No, this is not related to the Alfred Hitchcock movie, although it was quite obvious this week that God has been getting my attention with birds these past few weeks. Let me explain...
God has always spoken to me through things going on in my environment, and since I love being outdoors, He usually uses nature to show me things. Just as Jesus spoke to a farming culture with parables about farming to get a spiritual message across, so he speaks to us through things we relate to, in terms we can understand.
Most of you know that two of my children have been chronically ill for five years, since they were nine years old. When your child suffers from an incurable illness that brings them excruciating pain with no relief, for years on end, you grieve. No matter how you try to get around it, you live in constant grief. Then friends don't believe you or your child, church family rejects you, and family doesn't understand, nobody visits you and suddenly you find yourself isolated, alone, and depressed. You cannot get involved socially because you are grieving and you feel guilty if you leave your child. Your life is consumed with research, doctor appointments, physical therapy appointments, psychiatrist and counseling appointments. Any spare time you have you just want to be alone. And nobody understands you anyway, and you feel you can no longer relate to anyone unless they have walked your same journey. The only thing you can think about is your grief when you are stuck in grief.
After many years of failed treatments to make our daughters' lives livable, I lost hope about a year ago. Our oldest was at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia for three weeks last June. This was our only hope for her to be in less pain. But, another hope was dashed as it didn't help her. I gave up believing. I gave up on hope. I gave up believing that God was remotely interested in our family, or that He was even a good God. I almost stopped believing He even existed.
I trudged through this past year crawling through the mud and mire. Only by tenacity did I hold on ( I'm kind of stubborn). Like a wounded soldier left on the battlefield, I saw the helicopter rescue everyone else and watched as it flew away, leaving me for dead. I lay there, bleeding slowly to death, crying for help that never came.
This past spring, as the weather began to warm up, I forced myself (you should hear the conversations I have in my head fighting my will!) to get back up. I began searching for another treatment, more hope. I found a wonderful pain specialist (all the others gave up on us) in Rhode Island named Dr. Chopra. He offered some hope BUT also sent us on another journey to a geneticist. More questions, and hopefully more answers.
We were not prepared to be told our daughters met clinical guidelines for some genetic diseases we had never heard of, and none had long life expectancy. So they were tested, and we waited...and waited...and waited for results. Even though the news might be bad, at least we had some answers. Knowledge is power. Maybe this journey could finally come to an end one way or another. I was at peace for the first time in years.
The day I received the call from Dr. Chopra, I was walking and heard this loud screeching sound coming from the woods across from my house. I thought it was children but it was very early in the morning and it was so loud! I looked through the canopy of trees and saw....a peacock!! In the wild?? In N.C.??? It was beautiful (and did I mention loud?!)! I watched it until it disappeared. Immediately I knew it God was trying to tell me something. I mean, who sees peacocks in the wild when they normally are not indigenous to this country much less this area?! I prayed and researched. I found that peacocks symbolize resurrection, and are mentioned by name in the Bible when King Solomon's temple was being built. They were considered exotic and valuable. King Solomon had them shipped along with gold and silver to his palace. Obviously, their beauty was much desired and valued by royalty so much so that he had them shipped to himself. Something unexpected and beautiful in the midst of trial is what I saw that day. That peacock was a messenger of hope to me from God that day.
After two trips to Cambridge and Providence, we settled home and summer began. Where I live, we have an abundance of snakes, and they decided to make their presence known to me several times in one week. That same week, a bird started making a nest in one of my hanging flower baskets on my front porch. Most who know me know that my porch is my sanctuary, a place where I find solace and have my Jesus time. I listen and watch all of the creatures and trees and flowers. I feel the breeze as I sit in my swing and breathe in life and thankfulness. Simplicity at its best.
Not long after, the mama bird laid eggs in the nest. I watched her and studied her and did an internet search to find out what kind of bird she was. She was a House Wren, a small brown bird that is considered a songbird, is very common and plain, but has an effervescent song about it.They flit quickly from low-lying bushes and make their nests just about anywhere low to the ground. One evening, my husband and I opened the door and found a black snake on our porch! There was no doubt it was there to get that nest, to steal, kill and destroy the hope of new life from a songbird that brings joy and delight. Choking out this nest in my sanctuary, my place of solace was NOT going to "fly" with me! Oh no! So, my husband re-homed the snake back to the woods.
I watched every day as the baby birds hatched and the mama worked feverishly feeding those five mouths with bugs she foraged. I enjoyed watching her work around the clock to protect and feed her young. If we got too close to the nest she would aggressively fly toward our heads to scare us away. She was cute and joyful, yet fierce when necessary. She was diligent. I could relate to her. I have been so diligent to make sure I have done everything I can to help my kids live normal lives.I have fought so many battles against people, doctors, and myself during this journey. The snakes of doubt, despair, and death tried to get my nest.
My girls are learning to navigate their teen years despite chronic pain and illness. It has been a tough road psychologically for them. So many times they wanted to give up and I had to push them forward when I was so weak myself. We have traveled to many places for treatments, usually for at least 3 weeks at a time, and I usually left my other two at home since the middle child is in remission for one of her few diagnoses.They have felt neglected and have not had trouble telling me so. So then comes what I call "Mommy guilt". We moms all know how that feels.
My oldest, the one in the most pain, has never been away from family for more than a night or two. Since she has been sick, I have only left her once for a week, but she was still with family. I have been by her side, day and night, for five years ya'll! That's a long time. We have definitely bonded through suffering. She has asked the tough questions such as, "if God loves me, why won't he heal me?" and, "am I going to die?" I have held her through nights of wailing herself to sleep only from exhaustion. I have cried on the bathroom floor, completely shattered, listening to them both wail and scream in pain for weeks and months at a time. But recently, I knew it was time to let them live life on their own, even if I have to push one of them out of the nest.
So, last week they both attended church camp. I had to make the oldest go as she is very introverted by nature and feels different because of the challenges she faces. Boy did I have a hard time letting go. We have homeschooled for ten years, and they are all going to be attending school this fall, so this was our " practice letting go" week. The day they left for camp, I got the genetic testing results: Negative for all of the really bad stuff. Positive for something manageable. Praise God!!
I don't think it is a coincidence that while my children were at camp, the five baby birds made their way out of the nest into the cocoa lining of the hanging basket. They were there for a day and the last day of camp, I got to watch as each baby made its way to the edge of the planter and hopped off into the large bush nearby while mama encouraged and coaxed from a nearby tree. I can relate to that too. I was so worried they would fly out of the nest and splatter on the concrete porch, but each baby knew to jump out into the bush and not the other direction.
There were five babies. When the number five is used in the Bible, it usually is symbolic of grace or the atonement (five wounds of Jesus, five offerings,five in the tabernacle of Moses) or life (five loaves, the bread of life). What do I carry from this? Life. New life. Grace. Thanksgiving. In my sanctuary, on my porch.
Now, to seal the deal, God went even further to bring confirmation to me in two silly, seemingly insignificant ways. When the girls returned from camp, one answered the call to ministry and the other's life was changed forever by their camp experience!! I am not looking at the same two children who left five days before. As they we telling me of their experiences, they sang the song that they sang every morning to wake up. Get this! The song was about BIRDS!! It was silly and funny but about birds!! I was like, "ok God, I get it."
Then, today we went to see a children's play about the ugly duckling. It made me cry because I could relate to Ugly's feeling rejected because of his differences. I know my girls can relate. It is such a difficult age anyway when you already want so badly to fit in and then add to that illness and 504 plans and accommodations at school and, well, you get the picture. What did the cast of this play consist of?! Ducks, geese, swans, magpies, etc. BIRDS! There was one poignant scene when Ugly's Mama let him fly, letting him go on his own and I cried!
Is it time to let go and let God? You bet, at least for this Mama bird. I have been holding on to so much hurt and anger and despair and grief, but it is time for me to let them fly. God is responsible for the results, not me. He created those birds to know what to do to avoid the concrete, so he surely knows how to teach my children well. I believe they will soar!
