Day 9: Not a sparrow falls but He knows

      Perhaps it is a result of being named for a bird (Robin). Or maybe it's because I grew up in a home bordering acres of forest, for whatever reason, I have always loved birds. I find them companionable. Whether I hear them singing in the morning greeting the new day; see them eating the cherries off the trees in my front yard, or just flying through the air, gracefully gliding through their days I feel a kindred spirit with them. Often at the coast, hiking trails or beach-combing, flocks of blue herons will delight me will their show of precision and skill. No matter where I find them, what they are doing interests me.

      Additionally, in my life, there have been different moments where birds have had special significance. One especially impactful time was when I was a young mother of four children fleeing an abusive relationship. The marriage had been doomed from the start, as early on I learned my husband's response to any stress, was to hit, yell and break things. I called everyone I knew to call. I read everything I knew to read. We visited doctors and ministers and counselors. I had tried to "fix" things but no matter what we did nothing would stop the violence. I was in terror, the children were in terror. We never knew when things would go horribly wrong and find ourselves, cold, alone in the night. Sometimes, we would flee and none of us would even have shoes on and barefoot we would try to use a payphone to find someone to help us. Those were dark days, but they finally came to an end.

      However, even after the final separation, we still faced tough times. Alone with four young children, I cried out to God to help us. I felt, many times as if I was hanging on to my life with my fingernails, and at any moment I could plunge into the darkness. Today we have names for what I experienced, PTSD for one. Labeling the painful emotions would not have helped me then I don't think, I needed a supernatural touch of healing.

     I sought refuge in going to church and no matter how difficult it was to clean, dress and take four fussy children, I persisted. I was certain that not going would only make things worse. After one particularly trying morning of looking for shoes, socks and all the other things that seem to disappear, I finally got the four children packed into our car. Most of the way there my nerves felt so on edge, "God," I argued, "I don't think I can take any more of this!" "Please God," I begged, "Help me!"

The drive to church continued, always a continual, "He hit me!" "Make her stop singing!" Or the baby would cry. It was anything but peaceful.
   
     After a good eight miles of driving we finally reached the church parking lot. We were late, but I was determined to not let that stop me. Unfastening seat belts, car seats, I got all four protesting children out of the car. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed movement on the ground. There amid the rocks was perched a nest with eggs in it. Nearby a nervous bird, chirped furiously; it was her nest. There were four eggs in the nest, perfect, intact, fragile. "What a dumb place to put a nest, " I thought. "Didn't she realize a car could crush it at any time?"

     Suddenly the significance of that nest swept over me. Myself and my four babies were just as precariously perched on the shelf of life. We had escaped violence and now were faced with the stresses of poverty and being alone. But, we were safe! Even as God was watching out for that bird and her four as of yet unhatched babies, so God was watching out for us. With His tender hands he had rescued us, and was gently leading us to a place where He could provide us with the support we so desperately needed.

     We didn't disturb the nest and the mother bird continued to chirp loudly after us as we walked the long walk across the parking lot to the church. As the large church door swung open, we entered and left the outside world,   God had brought us safely home.

If you are in the middle of your own storm, don't give up. There is a God who hears and answers prayers, someday, your night of weeping will end and you will find "joy in the morning."