The flight of hope
One of the things I like most about myself is my love of nature. I can sit for hours in my garden watching bugs, flowers, the sky, and just about anything else that goes on out there. Nature and creation fascinate me. That healthy sense of curiosity is probably one of the driving forces to me becoming a science teacher.
The more time I spend in God’s word, the more I realize how much nature is tucked into the verses. With each new discovery in verse and in nature, I feel like I am drawn closer to God. On a recent trip out to a friend’s farm, my senses were on overload.
Heaven and earth are full of your glory . . .
The sky was filled with blue gray skies as a small rain had just dampened the parched ground. The smell of rain permeated our vehicle. That is an amazing smell. Is it one of the smells of heaven? The prairie roses were thick in the roadside ditches. But the best part was the witness of a tiny escort as we drove down the lane to their home.
A flicker of bright gold feathers boldly flew right in front of us until we reached the house. I was captivated by the flash of colors and the bold courage of one so small. Even my husband remarked at his beauty, later confessing that it was the second time in a week that he had witnessed one escorting us. (Apparently, I had nodded off in the car the first time; so, he had a private audience with the little friend.)
I was on heaven’s cloud nine taking in all the sights and sounds of beauty on the prairie. Gorgeous doesn’t even seem to begin to be a big enough word to convey the scene.
Later that evening as we were preparing for bed, I shared with my sweetie what joy I felt in my heart. The goldfinch is our little Clo’s bird (the one she receives as an ornament each Christmas). The first one appeared in our yard, shortly after the loss of Clo’s twin in utero. I have always seen that first appearance as a sign of God’s promise of hope. I didn’t understand it at the time, because we didn’t know that we were still pregnant with the other twin, Cloie. Something about the bright cheery color of the male plumage just exudes hope.
It was during our bedtime conversation that my husband shared the earlier encounter with the other finch. Revealing a piece of my heart, I told him that each time I see one darting about, I think of our other tiny little girl. Teary-eyed, I explained how I wonder if she is as spunky as her sister and if she too holds a bundle of energy inside a head of curls and face full of freckles.
While I will always have notes of sadness in my life’s song, I cannot help but be filled with soaring bars of hope each and every time I see a goldfinch fly.
Sing to the Lord a new song;
sing to the Lord, all the earth. Psalm 96:1 (NIV)
If creation will let me, I am going to be singing along.