I was at my Mom’s. We were sitting around the dining room table, just being together. My Mom’s house has a wall of windows and sliding glass doors on the south side of the house. I love looking out those windows because you can see the birds at the feeders and in the flower garden.
As we sat there, a small bird flew right into the glass door and fell onto the deck. It got up and just stood there for a few seconds. When it didn’t fly away I went out to see if it was ok. It still didn’t fly away when I reached down to pick it up.
The poor little thing was in shock, I think. I held him and covered him in my hands to keep him warm from the wind blowing that afternoon.
As I sat there, whispering to the little bird that it would be alright, I realized that the Lord was showing me His kindness again. I was that little bird, trembling in the Father’s hand. I was, and still am, so broken inside that all I can do is sit and tremble.
That little bird probably didn’t know that he was in the safest place in the world. But I know I am.
The Lord reminded me that His strength is perfected in our weakness. And I am completely weak.
He reminded me that we are to be still and know that He is God. I know He is God because I can’t move to do anything in my own strength. I have none.
Then the Lord reminded me Jesus said that no one is able to snatch us out of the Father’s hand.
I held that little bird until he stopped panting and trembling. Then I put him back in the tree.
When I went home that afternoon, my best friend and I were watching TV. I looked over at my glass door to the deck, and saw a little finch flapping against the glass, like it was trying to get in. It stayed there for about ten or fifteen seconds. I said, “What is with the birds today?”
The next afternoon, I was sitting on my deck, just talking with the Lord. I was telling Him how much I missed Julie and that I still couldn’t understand why it happened. My heart was so heavy.
I watched a tiny bird fly from the big oak tree to the fig tree beside the deck. He hopped around on the fig tree then flew to the rail of the deck, right beside me.
Then he hopped to the chair right in front of me. He stayed there for a minute or two, just chirping and looking at me.
When he flew away, I started to cry. I was so grateful for the picture of the little bird the day before. I knew where I was – I was in the Father’s hand.
Later, when I told my best friend that I’d seen a third little bird, she said that the one I had helped was telling everyone about me. She said that they were coming to see the one who saved his life. That made me laugh.
I love thinking about that little bird I held. He was safe, warm and loved. So am I.