God speaks in.......birds?

It may sound strange, but I believe that God has a number of ways in which he speaks to me; the whisper of a soft breeze through the tops of the trees, or just a whisper in my mind, through the words of another person, through the written word, whatever the source of that word may be, and, yes, occasionally, he speaks to me in birds.

The darkest moment of my life, the moment when two women sat me down on my couch to tell me that my beloved Jimmy was never coming home again, my world went black. Thoughts, words, feelings...they all became meaningless. There was only pain. Hot, searing, ripping, tearing pain. When I opened my eyes, there was a perfect red cardinal outside of my living room window. He was looking intently at me. He flitted from branch to branch over the next several moments, never leaving my sight and always with his gaze fixed on mine. As strange as it may sound, I found comfort in that bird. Comfort in the moment when I could not be comforted.
Looking back on it, I can say without pause that God sent me that bird.


The cedar waxwing has always been my favorite native Michigan bird. The first time I ever laid eyes on one, I was about twelve years old. After hearing that dreaded "thump" at my picture window, I raced outside, hoping that whoever had hit the window would be just stunned enough so that I could hold the wild thing gently in my hand until it regained it's wits and flew off. A cedar waxwing lay dead on the ground. I had never seen such a creature; it's feathers so fine and soft that they didn't resemble feathers at all, but rather a sort of creamy silk overlay. Almost as if it wasn't a real bird at all, but a fine wax sculpture of some imaginary bird that couldn't possibly exist because it was too perfect. Too beautiful. It laid dead in my hand with a trickle of blood coming from it's mouth and I cried. Cried because it was so beautiful, and cried because it was dead.

Immediately following, I went inside and proceeded to read my mother's birding field guide cover to cover. I found myself overwhelmed by the sheer number of breathtaking creatures existing in this world. That day began what has become a life-long passion of mine. Bird-watching continues to be a very avid, very personal, and very meditative hobby of mine. And it all started with that perfect dead cedar waxwing.

This weekend, as I moved my things into my new place, a sense of fear and despair began to overtake me. I was not home. I would have been sobbing openly, but my apartment was filled with people who had helped me move. As they began to leave, I found myself drawn to my sliding glass window. I stood there and listened....a series of high-pitched trills filled the air. As I watched, a flock of cedar waxwings made their way from deep back in the woods to the tree less than ten feet from my window.


There is no doubt in my mind that God sent me those birds.

So, for those of you who have been asking "how am I doing?", the answer is.....God is sending me birds.....how could I be anything but fine?

On a far less introspective note....the red-winged blackbirds are officially back for the warmer months.