A Bird in the Hand

Kathy magically appeared at my door the other day. I say magically, because she is magical to me. This amazing woman, the mother of Seth (read about them both here and here), is among those dear ones that roam this planet who I hold closest to my heart.

There was a time about two years ago when she was so sick I thought we would lose her. I would visit often, never knowing quite what to say or do, so I’d massage her back and hug her and listen to her talk about faith and her love of God despite her many trials. At times she spoke in a whisper, barely able to keep her head up, and she would tell me how grateful she was for her life. In her fragile state, she was so amazingly strong.

Now, here she stood in my living room looking vital and alive. She smiled and laughed and poured out her love to me. She is a walking miracle. She had heard at church, though she is in a different congregation than I am, that I was struggling with this pregnancy. In her hands she held a small brown box.

“The spirit told me to get this for you. It had to be this one, only I didn’t know for sure that they even made it. I just sent Steve and told him if they had it, to get the one called “Peace”.

I smiled and pointed to the shelf behind her at the gift Adam had given me for Christmas, a metal design of my favorite word; Peace. I have that word in a prominent place in each of the rooms I frequent most. On a small etched stone in the bathroom and one by my bed, on beautifully embellished cards by Steph in the kitchen and studio, and scratched in Sharpie marker on a 3x5 note card, tucked in my dresser drawer.

That word calms me like no other. It says, Hush, its ok, breathe...everything is going to be okay.

I opened the box and removed the figurine, a slender woman in white holding a bluebird near her heart, and my eyes filled with tears. “Come here, I have to show you something.”

I took her to the studio. There stands a large, half-completed painting of a woman in a snowy field. On her shoulders rest four bluebirds, one for each of my living children. In her hands she holds an empty nest, and though they are not painted yet, on the ground is space for four broken eggs. I began the painting shortly after the last miscarriage, and stopped. I couldn’t move any further, not knowing how many broken eggs would eventually be on the ground.

Only a week ago I decided I would, could, paint an egg in the nest.

And here, Kathy had brought me “peace”, and a woman holding a bluebird in her hands.

I guess many would say it is coincidence, that I saw only what I was looking for. And I imagine that is possible. I have pondered the possibility of this being a message with spiritual origins. Wouldn’t God have plenty on his hands without worrying about my feelings? Why now, after so many hurts and losses would the feelings of one small person on this planet matter? I don’t really know for sure, but I choose not to see this as mere chance. Somehow, my friend was able to bring something that meant something to me, a deep personal symbol that she could never have known about.

I choose to see meaning.

“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” -John 14:27