For The Beloved
07/05/2010 § 4 Comments
Our large picture window affords many a view of birds in flight and little feathered ones snatching up morsels to fill bellies. They flit, they fly, limb to limb, continual testing of surroundings for that final place of respite where weary wings may rest. I try to snap a photo and think to myself, “Hold still!”
The caution of their nature is never quenched. Self-preservation pulsing continually through microscopic veins, fear of capture. I pause to reflect, a parallel emerges, first dimly then brighter, fuller.
I have lived a generous portion of my vapor-like existence such as one of these. The gently firm voice of the Father, all too familiar in my ears, “Hold still!”. I bow my head in solemn comprehension. I am face-to-face with my past, the majority of my fleeting life before me, I relive in a flashing moment.
Then, what’s this? A smile? No gut-wrenching sobs of pain? No searching through endless files to find someone to blame? What has happened to the wee sparrow whom fear once left lame?
Where guilt, regret and shame once held frail wings from flight, the chains now lay at feet, capture no longer my plight. For the Lord my God has delivered me, enemies now eat bitter defeat. So long, fare thee well, never again shall our paths meet.
With branch weighed low, I stretch wide once battered wings, pressing down and lifting up, I soar high and away on winds now safe.
“Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father’s will. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows. ” ~Matthew 10:29-31
Getting used to my wings,