Broken Wings and The Little Things
My colored picture here might not make much sense to the general public,
but to me, it speaks volumes.
Owls are a much misunderstood creature,
and perhaps some may find them creepy.
Why would I choose this Bible verse to coincide with a
seemingly violent renditon of an owl, any way?
Let me give you a quick back story -
When we first moved onto the family acreage,
the backyard was pretty empty.
Farming had ceased a few years back,
and the outbuildings were rarely entered.
So the rabbit population was kept at bay by a family of owls.
The boys had loved the spooky sound of a random - "Whoo, whoo!"
whenever staying overnight at Grandma and Grandpa's house.
Now it was their backyard!
The night time explorers had a wonderful place to check out on their own.
In the middle of growing up out here,
I had decided to begin a book for the kids.
A fictional land of talking owls, and how they were once human
and what it takes to get their memories back.
(That kind of took a back burner to living, so it's still rolling around inside...)
Where were we going with this?
Oh, yes. The broken winged,
colorful, confusing owl drawing.
(From the book: Imagimorphia
drawn by: Kerby Rosanes)
Luke 4:18 says -
18 “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
and recovering of sight to the blind,
to set at liberty those who are oppressed..."
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
and recovering of sight to the blind,
to set at liberty those who are oppressed..."
This is Jesus reading the scriptures aloud in the synagogue on the Sabbath day.
When He finished reading, he set the scroll of the prophet Isaiah down, and said to the crowd
that this scripture was fulfilled that very day.
Because Jesus came to this earth and lived among us,
all for the purpose of dying for us,
We can live
with our broken wings
and confusing things.
Even the sad, and the violent, and creepy, and the disturbing, and the lonely, secret things.
Those are all forgiven and forgotten by the One Who loves us most.
For me, it is the lingering, haunting, lies of childhood - which grew into smothering, sinister,
tricks of the mind, and sabotage to the soul.
Writing my precious son's name with a sharpened edge on my skin, won't bring him back,
it won't change anything.
In fact, it just makes the list of false guilt grow longer.
Actually, I ended up with FOUR treasure boxes plumb full of wonderful things!!
How do I know I am forgiven?
When you trust someone, it's because they have proven themselves worthy of your trust.
Time and time again, I can find stories of how God has rescued me so many different ways.
He sees something that I apparently have a hard time envisioning.
I am worth His time.
All the time it takes.
Today, I am beat down. Again.
But because God even uses medical doctors; Yes, that's called healing, too.
- I am here to say that I have made it through another onslaught of tears.
Plenty of times since returning from the hospital, I have had that old familiar feeling rising up from within those walls of darkness, yet I have a perfect record of being able to redirect my thoughts
and tell the devil to go back where he came from.
How? You ask?
The eternal God whose everlasting arms are always there to pick up the pieces.
That is the only thing I have to give credit for every tiny thing that He sends my way,
just when I need it most.
Today, I had a not-so-merry-go-round investigation into the count of my prescription tablets.
Since I haven't been a regular customer for all that long at our local pharmacy,
it has never occured to me to actually count how many pills are in the bottle.
The other day, I happened to look at my bottle and see the count on the label.
I thought to myself, either I am bad at estimation,
or there really can't be as many as they say.
There wasn't.
Long story short - I learned a valuable lesson.
Fight your battles with your full armor on and never let them catch you off guard.
(Next time, and every time I guess - I will count the pills as soon as I get them home. Or I have no leverage to stand on.)
After leaving the store, exhausted, and a might uptight,
I am putting my cart back only to overhear a mom and her daughter, saying just a bit too loud...
- "Oh, that's so sad.. I feel sorry for her.. She's even all dressed up, look at the....."
By then I was out of range and struggling to open my car door to get in.
Boy. I didn't need a pity party right then.
(Gee, I didn't know a pleather jacket and an orange walking stick was that much of a sight?)
Must have been the clumsy, drag/walk I had going on.
Standing on a cement floor debating over a small bottle for almost a half hour will do anybody in.
That was the limit for me.
I struggled to fight back the tears, but failed.
I was going to go visit another young man's grave on my way home.
But I just couldn't.
So I stopped at our local library instead.
My eldest son had told me recently that they were cleaning out the shelves and getting rid of a few books, so I thought I would take a look. Sometimes, I find a jewel or two.
Today - I found a treasure box!
Now, I love to read, yes.
But am I planning on reading four huge boxes of books for adults and children alike?
No, much better than that!
In memory of our son,
because he was compassion wrapped up in a bundle of miracles;
Every Christmas, we take boxes of books and bags full of warm socks, gloves, hats and other goodies
and deliver them to prisons and shelters across the state.
He always had a big heart for the wounded and weary,
the broken and the forgotten.
To carry his memory we have this goal - to share Nathanael's Legacy everywhere we can.
Those books are going to be part of the love we share to others who have known heartache and loss.
That's a beautiful thing to brighten up anyone's broken wings!!
Even if they are a bit colorful and confusing ...
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