Often, when I’m home alone (without my husband), I’ll leave the back sliding glass down open, even the screen. It allows the dogs to go in and out as they might wish and I can concentrate on the chores I’m doing.
Yesterday, I walked downstairs to have a bite of lunch. The screen door was open and our biggest dog, Becky, was standing by it looking out, until I started to eat. Then of course, she was right next to me (like the little ones) hoping that I might drop a tasty morsel (which I don’t). After lunch, I went to grab the scissors in the pencil cup next to the phone. Now understand, that pencil cup is on the kitchen counter and an entire room away from the sliding glass door which is in the dining room.
Reaching for the scissors, I didn’t exactly look right at them because I knew they were there. You know how it is. You reach for something, glancing to make sure of the location, but not really concentrating on that item. I mean, it’s something you’ve done a million times, right? Anyway, in the process of reaching for the scissors, my mind began to process that something was sitting on the top of the scissors handle.
The first thing I thought was that it was a moth, because of the size. Until I actually looked at it. Lo and behold, sitting on top of my scissors was a beautiful little hummingbird. Yup! You heard me right. Sitting there, obviously scared to death (trying not to move), but as right as rain. This beautiful little female (I think) hummingbird.
Okay. Now I have a dilemma. It’s several feet to the sliding glass door (and outside). At least fifteen feet, maybe more. And between me (and her) and the outdoors are all kinds of things she could hurt herself on: windows, walls, ceilings, furniture. How to get her out safely . . .
Well, my only thought was to send up a basically wordless prayer for her safety and pick the scissors up. She sat there, looking right at me, hardly moving. I began to wonder if maybe she was sick, but there was no choice. I have dogs inside my house, not whom would particularly want to hurt her, but who would do so simply because she was so small and they were so much larger. So, I carefully reached to pick up the scissors.
She didn’t move.
I took the scissors and began to walk slowly outside. I think she and I were both barely breathing. Step. Step. Step. Slowly. Then down the outside steps and into the yard.
Now, mind you, we’re outside now and she’s still sitting on the scissors. I’m so concerned that maybe she’s sick or injured, but I wouldn’t know the first thing about nursing a sick hummingbird. So, I thought of putting her near the hummingbird feeder. Maybe that would help. And as I reached the edge of the yard, she took one last look at me and flew off, her wings making that amazing invisible sight (like all hummingbirds do when they fly).
Away she went!
(My husband asked me later if I got pictures. Who was thinking of pictures at that moment, though it was a great idea.)
An amazing miracle in my life, to hold a hummingbird (well, to transport her, at least). To be that close, to look into her eyes and she into mine.
I began to think about how we are with the Lord. We fly ourselves into situations of grave danger. Unthinking, often impulsively, we go, not worrying or even considering what might lie ahead . . . until we are in the position of not knowing where to go next. Just like my little hummingbird who found herself in my kitchen, a safe place for me but obviously a place full of all kinds of dangers for her. So she stopped and waited.
I wonder how many times I should simply stop and wait for the Lord, rather than frantically flying around looking for a way out. My wise little bird-friend must have known that she was in an untenable situation because she simply landed (stopped) and waited for help.
I wonder how many times the Lord would love to rescue me, carrying me to safety. Am I willing to look into His loving eyes and trust Him to carry me to the place best suited for me? Or am I instead going to fly about, almost blindly, into things that can harm me, perhaps even threaten my life?
When I walk through the valley’s darkest corners, do I trust that He is with me?
Shalom . . . peace with God. What a blessing the Lord Jesus gave us through His death and resurrection.
“Nothing will harm you” (Luke 10:19 NAB).
© 2008 Robin L. O’Hare. All Rights Reserved. International copyright reserved. This study may be copied for nonprofit and/or church purposes only without permission when copied in its entirety (including this notice).
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