This may sound a little bit out there... but I have a thing with birds. It hasn't always been this way. I think I realized in my adulthood. I always notice them. My eyes are drawn to the sky, and what they're doing seems significant... though I can't always put my finger on why. I hear them as well. Really hear them -- in the middle of the night, on walks, sitting in the backyard. I suppose it's more true to say that I'm listening for them.
The day I found out I was pregnant with Owen, I woke up early as was always the case, so that I could let Henry out for a morning walk. When I opened the door, my eyes were immediately drawn to a tall skeleton of a tree outlined in the breaking morning light colors. At the very top was an enormous bird. I tried to figure out what type it was, but I couldn't determine... It was very still and imposing sitting up there. And it might sound odd to say, but it seemed to be quietly looking down at me. I had that feeling anyway. I shuffled around to get Henry on his leash and when I looked back it was gone -- nowhere to be seen.
I know. It sounds like no big deal. I mean, a bird in a tree... so what?
I guess it's that some things seem important, like there is a message or a sign there just waiting to be heard, or caught, or noticed. When I have those feelings, I trust them because usually I find a meaning that makes sense. Sure enough, that afternoon I discovered I was pregnant.
There are countless other times that birds have come to me at significant moments. After deaths, during heartbreak, when I've been struggling physically. Once on a run I remember feeling really down about where I was athletically. I think it was shortly after having Brookie. The negative voice in my head was on full blast and I was listening. But something caught my attention -- a loud, dry whooshing sound. I looked up and an eagle -- beautiful, powerful, enormous, heavy feathers, was flying low directly above me through the trees. I felt the breeze it made as it flew over me... I was immediately uplifted.
But without a doubt, the most powerful bird that made an impression on me was a dove. When Quincy was just under two years old I found out I was pregnant. We were elated. Shortly after, I was sitting in the living room and noticed a white bird circling the house. It flew in big circles around the greenbelt to the side of our home, over the neighborhood, and would return again to sit in a tree right outside the window. It did this for a few days, and I realized it was a dove. I had never seen a dove in the wild before. It was quite beautiful and I took it as a very positive sign. It came back everyday for days, and would always rest in the same tree -- right where I would see it. One day it came and landed right on the tippy top of our roof while I was in the backyard. It was so close I could see it breathing. I felt it was a blessing. Then, it didn't come back. Only a few days later, we found out we had lost the pregnancy. I grieved and mourned... and kept thinking about that dove, that never did come back again. I came to feel that perhaps it was a blessing after all. Perhaps the dove was there to tell me that it would be alright. That though I was devastated, God was there in that grief. I was comforted. I researched what doves symbolize and I was amazed.
I once read that if you stop listening to *that voice* in your mind -- you know the one... the one that tells you things. The one that maybe isn't logical or practical or pragmatic... If you stop listening, it will soon speak softer, until it is but a whisper. And then it will die and won't bother to speak to you at all. Listening is important. I love the presence of birds in my life... It makes me happy.
No comments:
Post a Comment