Wednesday, August 07, 2013


“Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life” Psalm 143:8. (NIV)

"Oh, no!” My sister Kristy laughed. “A bird flew into the house!” 

It was one of the swallows that had been nesting on Mom and Dad’s roof—the birds that sound so sweet and happy until we get too close and they dive-bomb us. 

I made it to the dining area just as the swallow circled the light fixture. Mom opened the front door and started coaxing the bird toward the door with a swishing hand towel. 

The swallow chirped and flitted in every direction except toward the door. We clapped our hands, stomped our feet, whistled, waved our arms toward the door shouting, “Go on, shoo,” as a chorus of birds called to him from outside, but the swallow kept flying in circles. He perched on a ceiling fan blade then on a window sill. I could almost hear the poor thing’s frantic thoughts: How did I get here? And now I can’t escape. Help!

After a while, we all stood back in defeat, knowing all we could do was wait and pray he didn’t start pooping on the furniture. 

He took another airial lap. My mind started reviewed the many times I had felt like that bird—stuck, flying in frantic circles, crying, “How did I get here? Help!” Some of the traps I flew into on my own; other times I followed the lead of someone I thought I could trust only to have him leave me stranded in the cave. Overtaken by shock and fear, I couldn’t see the open door leading out, even as friends called from the outside, “This way! We’re out here! It’s okay!” This might sound silly, but I honestly felt that bird’s pain. 

Lord, show him the way out.

The swallowed quieted and rested above the living room window, probably tired out from trying so hard.

A few minutes later, my prayer was answered. Dad opened an escape route via the garage door, which included fewer obstacles, and the bird swooped right out to freedom, reminding me that God never leaves us stuck forever. How many times had I, like that bird, found the way out as soon as I stopped screaming and flapping in circles and gave up trying so hard?

I’m sure there will be more days when I feel like that frightened, trapped swallow, but remembering his ordeal and the many that God has loved me out of gives me hope. In each one I will have friends calling to me from the outside and praying, “Lord, please show her the way out,” and a Father to open the path to escape just in time.

Lord, thank you for being with me even in my most frantic moments. Thank you for never leaving your children completely helpless, and for always providing a way out.

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