"Be as a bird perched on a frail branch that she feels bending beneath her, still she sings away all the same, knowing she has wings." Victor Hugo
For months my friend Lisa has been training wild birds to
come and eat from her hands. Regularly she would write about her progress on
her Facebook page, I loved these posts, entitled "As the Bird
Turns". It made me want to have the
experience that she was having. To feel those tiny feet land on MY hand and eat
from MY palm. And so I asked Lisa could I come, could I feed her birds.
Graciously, my friend said yes. When my alarm woke me early this morning, I
couldn't layer up and head out the door fast enough, mittens, heavy coat and
husband with camera in tow.
We arrived at Lisa's and I finished bundling up. The morning
temperature was 26 degrees and I wouldn't be moving. Lisa gave me her hat,
which the birds were already familiar with, instructions not to move, how to
hold my hand, and a reminder not to look around or move my eyes, and then we
were on the porch. Lisa settled me on the chair, gave her familiar bird “hello”,
to her feathered friends, and then left me, sitting, not moving, my mittened hand full of
fresh walnuts.
All was still. Snow still on the ground and chill in the
air. I took slow, quiet breaths. I felt myself melting into my surroundings.
And I waited. The minutes stretched on. 10 or 15 minutes passed and although I
could hear tiny, feathered friends flitting and stirring around me, none
approached to feed. My fingers began to feel numb. I was not giving up yet. I
began to pray. I lost track of the time, and then the unmistakable rustle of
wings nearby broke the silence.
Suddenly a little Titmouse appeared. Thoughts tumbled
through my mind, stream of consciousness, "Don't be afraid little one,
come and feed, I have good things here for you. Stop fluttering about, don't
hesitate, I won't hurt you, come and rest and enjoy these blessings." The feeling of tiny feet on my fingertips
will never be forgotten; my heart
soared. My facial expression never changed, I barely dared to breathe, I made
no sound, but, my heart was singing, my spirit was smiling. All the long
minutes (about a half an hour) of silent, stillness, and waiting, were for that
one moment, worth it all. The experience repeated itself over and over again. The
thrill never abaited.
I would have sat there much longer but my hand was starting
to shake and the cold was taking its toll. As much as I wanted the experience
to continue, I knew I needed to stretch and move, even though doing so would
mean ending this amazing encounter. I had to warm up. Reluctantly I stood and
my new feathered friends scattered to nearby branches. A squirrel who had
ventured a peek scurried down the trunk of the snowy tree hanging over the
railing. These special moments would never be forgotten.
This experience was Holy on so many levels. The closeness to
the tiny, perfect creatures warmed and amazed me. Their fragility, and their
courage, their beauty and perfectly equipped feathered bodies were stunning.
The stillness, mine and the world around me, altered my being, drew me into a
quiet state of worship. As I looked at the fresh bounty in my palm, I thought
how God stretches His hand laden with blessings out to ME and to ALL of US. I
realized how often I flutter around, too busy, or too afraid to reach out and
receive God's blessings. I realized how His heart must soar when I (and you)
rest and refresh in His hands. God spoke to me in the stillness this morning
and through the beauty of His creation.
As I approach my 60th birthday next January, my goal is to
enjoy 6 new experiences, one for each decade of life. Today was my first. Hoping each adventure
will be as amazing. Praying each one of you finds rest and refreshment in the
hands of The Lord. He's sitting very still, and very patiently waiting to bless us all.
Many thanks to my
friend, Lisa Schnoor for sharing her birds with me, and to my amazing husband
for capturing these precious moments.
You both blessed me abundantly.
