To the Rescue

As I walked from the kitchen to the landing at the top of the stairs that lead to the garage floor, I noticed a female hummingbird flying hither and yon near the high ceiling of the garage. I had no idea how long she’d been trying to find her way to the outside. And I didn’t have time to help her since I needed to arrive on time at the doctor’s office.

When I returned an hour or so later, she was still flying around and around even though I’d left the double-car garage door open. I knew the tiny hummer was exhausted and panic-stricken. Yet, I didn’t know how to help her. Even if I had taken a broom and tried to usher her toward the opening, I was too short to get it near her.

I prayed, “Lord, help me think of a way to help her.”

Then this idea popped into my mind: She’ll be attracted to the red single-stem tulip in a red vase in the living room.

I hurried to get it. I placed it on the small table in the garage. Afterward, I stood on the landing for a minute or so to see what she’d do. She continued flying around and around.

Then I thought, I can put water in the base of the hummingbird feeder I washed this morning.

I followed through with that idea, feeling quite proud of having come up with two creative solutions. When I returned to the landing, the little hummer was trying to sip from the silk flower. Even though she found nothing nourishing there, she was able to see the way out of the garage. In a flash, she was gone.

As I brought the vase and flower and the base of the feeder inside, I said, “Thank You, Father, for helping me save one of Your tiny creatures.”

I’m like that tiny bird. I sometimes get myself into situations that I don’t want to be in, situations that I never intended to be in and can see no way out of. When that happens, I am so thankful for those God sends to rescue me. I am especially thankful He sent His Son to set me free from the sin that entangled me and would have resulted in spiritual death and separation from God for all eternity. 

Connection

Around 7:30 one morning, I walked outside my house and paused a moment on the driveway before beginning my daily walk. Like the doe I wrote about in the previous blog post, I needed to make sure no danger was lurking nearby.  

Much to my surprise, when I looked to my right, I saw the right rear flank of a deer, but the rest of its body was hidden by scuppernong vines. I readied my cell phone camera and then coughed softly, hoping the slight noise would startle the deer just enough to cause it to reposition itself but not enough to make it bolt. My tactic worked.

The deer backed up a bit in order to see the source and location of the noise.                                                                                                                    

I gasped with delight, not fear, when I saw a young buck. He stood stone still while I snapped a couple of photos. After I lowered my phone, we continued to make eye contact with each other for several seconds before he fled toward his home in the woods.

As I began my walk, I continued to feel the joy of that momentary connection. I thanked God for it—and the photos! I remembered that God wants all His creation to live in harmony. But since sin entered the world ages and ages ago and disrupted the peace and harmony and replaced it with antagonism, the creatures experience only rare and fleeting moments of connectedness (and trust!) that God desires to be the norm.

Innumerable reversals will occur one future day when God sets all things right. The prophet Isaiah mentioned many of them, including these:

The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb,

The leopard shall die down with the young goat,

The calf and the young lion and the fatling together;

And a little child shall lead them….

They shall not hurt nor destroy in all My holy mountain,

For the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the LORD

As the waters cover the sea.

Isaiah 11:6-9, NKJV

 

It’s hard to imagine such peace and harmony, such absence of fear and danger and aggression, isn’t it?

But all those miracles, and countless others, will happen when God says the time is right. Until then, I relish even brief moments of connection.

The Doe and I

In Your presence is fulness of joy; 

At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore. 

Psalm 16:11 

 

The doe emerges from the edge of the woods and pauses before she ventures onto my lawn. After turning her head to the left and to the right to assess the safety of the space, she steps cautiously onto the grass. Still alert for possible danger, she strolls toward the pear tree so laden with fruit that one of the branches has fallen off and now lies on the ground. After she nibbles on a green pear, she wanders around the perimeter of the backyard in search of clover and other treats. 

As I watch her, I wonder, Why is she alone? Where are the other does that frequented the yard this time last year? Have they moved elsewhere? Or been killed on the highway? Does she have a fawn that’s too young to venture into the yard?

I hope she does, for I so enjoy seeing young ones grow up and slowly learn how to live in the adult world. And I want her to have a relationship that brings her joy. 

I sense a kindred spirit with the doe. I, too, am alone since my husband passed away six months ago. I, too, am learning to engage in self-care while also making careful decisions about how best to proceed in my current situation. Like the doe, I dare to venture alone into a wider world but then return to the spaces that feel more familiar—and less frightening. After I’ve spent time in seclusion, I summon courage to emerge again to experience the pleasures outside my four walls.  

If the doe and I could converse with each other, perhaps we’d discuss strategies we’re using to ease the ache of aloneness. I’d assure her that God is my Maker and Sustainer—and hers—and that He knows what we need. I’d also tell her that being in close relationship with Him brings me joy despite the loneliness in my heart.

Although she can't understand words, I’d also click on this link, and together we’d listen to the song, Your Presence, Lord: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2zEiiZi2DKk 

Happy Faces. Happy Hearts.

 Below is the content of a blog post I created in June 2015. Enjoy.

Since childhood, I’ve known the song that says, “If you’re happy and you know it then your face will surely show it.”

I was reminded of that recently when I photographed children attending an event in our community. A few were “glum chums.” Others wore bland expressions. But some had such a radiance on their sweet faces that I was immediately drawn to them. They made my job easy, for I didn’t even have to try to coax a smile out of them. All I had to do was take the picture!

Regretfully, I failed to ask permission to post their pictures here. But if I could post them, you’d immediately see the HUGE difference a genuine smile makes. The eyes light up. The face is relaxed. There’s a warmth and a gentleness on it, which is so appealing.

So, I’ll post two photos: one of my Daddy, taken many years ago; and one I took of myself recently while seated near a window in our dining room. Like Daddy, I have a perpetual smile. Like him, I have a glad heart, even when life isn’t one big happy, happy. And, as the song says, the inner happiness (and joy, gladness, cheerfulness) shows up on the face.

A glad heart makes a cheerful face….

~Proverbs 15:13, ESV

Meaningful Memorials

In celebration of Memorial Day, American flags line streets in towns large and small. Flags wave proudly on the grounds of public buildings. Flags flap on residential lawns in response to gentle breezes. Small flags border a huge, raised bed near the front entrance to a nursing home near my house. 

Special ceremonies have been scheduled throughout the USA. Some desserts served at picnics or other gatherings will feature the red, white, and blue colors found on the American flag. Some towns host Memorial Day parades to commemorate soldiers who lost their lives while serving in the armed forces. Graves of the fallen have been decorated with flags or wreaths.

Because we live such hectic lives, we need special days, foods, and activities to remind us to remember someone or something too important to forget. That’s been true throughout the centuries. Even in Old Testament times, people were instructed to observe certain days and/or to construct a memorial of some sort to help them recall a person or an event that impacted their lives.

For example, the seventh chapter of the book of 1 Samuel mentions a memorial the prophet Samuel made from a large stone and placed between two towns. Its purpose? To remind all who saw it of how faithfully God had helped them and, by implication, would continue to do so.

Do you take time out of your busy life to observe Memorial Day and other special days, like Mother’s Day and Father’s Day? Do you have objects that trigger memories of important people and events? Do you pause to give thanks for them?

Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen, 

and called its name Ebenezer, saying, “Thus far the LORD has helped us.” 

1 Samuel 7:12-13, NKJV

Grief and Gratitude

As I write these words, today is day 116 since my husband passed away. I’ve felt particularly sad and lonely today, which happens when I stay home all day and don’t keep busy, busy, busy. Obviously, activities and conversations mask the grief. But, oh my, I feel the full force of it when I’m alone and not focusing on projects and other tasks on my to-do list. But sometimes I have no choice but to let my tired body rest.

To escape the grief, I went to visit a friend in a nearby nursing home. She was delighted to see me, for she deals with griefs of her own. I was happy to be with her. We talked of many things as we sat outside while relaxing in the sunshine and listening to the birds chirping as they flew among the branches of the trees and boxwoods.

When I returned home, I noticed the first rose of the season on the bush my husband had planted years ago. My heart filled with happiness when I saw it, thankful that the work he had done long ago was lifting my spirits. I looked around the yard and saw not one, but two, pink and white amaryllis blooms--bigger than my palm--with other buds in the background. Once again, I felt grateful for his planting them.

As with most things these days, even a happy thought of days gone by can lead to tears as I realize those days are gone. He will plant no more flowers. But I can enjoy the ones he planted, even as I brush away the tears. 

Every day, I see other gifts he left behind, each a reminder of his love. And I whisper a heartfelt thank you to him and to God who gave us many years together as husband and wife, years when we made wonderful, now bittersweet, memories.