"She can deal with stress and carry heavy burdens. She smiles when she wants to scream, and she sings when she feels like crying. She cries when she is happy and laughs when she is afraid. Her love is unconditional. There is only one thing wrong with her. She forgets what she is worth!"
When we moved to the South over thirty years ago, I spent many afternoons at my sister's home which was in a serene country setting. It was the first time I ever saw bluebirds in such an abundance. If allowed to, I could sit in awe watching the graceful birds until sunset. There is something about any birds with blue feathers that can be hypnotic and mystifying. Perhaps, it's because they're a shade of Heavenly Blue or that bluebirds are symbols of happiness, or maybe Godly is the word I'm trying to find to explain the feeling I got observing these beautiful and delightful creatures.
Kevin Spacey starred in an early 2000 movie whose name was Prot. Prot was portrayed as a mental patient, or as the script wants you to think, possibly an alien. There were several characters in the script Prot helped, but a fellow obsessive-compulsive patient named Howie, was who came to my mind. Prot tasked Howie to look out into the garden until he saw the bluebird of happiness. Rather than going about his regular routines, Howie sat at the window for days watching the trees for the elusive bird to come to him. There is much more to the story, but this is the movie that came to mind this morning. However, the thought and the setting seem appropriate for the state of repair I am in. Mental.
Every home we owned had a large window, French doors, or sliding glass doors in the kitchen dining area. I based the purchase of our homes to have this requirement, because I thrive on bright natural light. It was important because the kitchen has always been the nucleus of our home. It is the place our family and friends gravitate to. It is where we traditionally gather daily for meals, where we solved problems whether they were important or insignificant. It is where we entertained, studied, laughed, and cried. When my children were babies, I bathed in the sink while the aroma of fresh baked goodies escaped from the oven. Birthdays, weddings, funerals, and graduations are all centered within the kitchen, and it is no wonder to anyone who knows me well would know I would be writing this post at my kitchen table.
Lately, more often than not, I've been sitting at this same table with my head in my hands, wondering. Wondering about trivial things and those which are not so easy to define, such as my worth on this earth. I gazed without expression at all the gorgeous flowers I have planted which have finally reached maturity, and the freshly mowed lawn and felt nothing. An emptiness comes over me which I can blame on countless things. My mind goes blank when I try to pinpoint any one thing that lets me move forward, the other is fear. Fear of not being able fully recover from my depression was the biggest obstacle to overcome. The fear that I will never lose this nagging itch of suicide. Then one day deep in the moment of desperation, I placed my head in my hands and prayed, like I never prayed before. When I lifted my head from my tear soaked hands, and focused my medicated eyes, there was a bluebird sitting on a shepherd’s hook planter just inches in front of the window. I froze in amazement except for the stream of tears that ran down my cheeks. If I did not know better, it looked like he was looking at me looking at him and transmitting the thought that tomorrow will be a better day. I praised my Lord God. Do I believe in that moment God knew I needed a sign? Do I believe God knew I needed to see that bird of hope on that day? Yes. I believe He did.
This exact incident has happened three times within a week’s time, and each time my eyes teared. It was therapy I did not have to pay for, and I know in my heart, God is walking by my side through this journey. I felt the same overwhelming hope Howie did when the blue jay landed by his window.
Since those painful months of healing, a day does not go by without seeing one of God’s glorious, blue-winged creatures, whether is it a bluebird, a blue jay, or a Pipevine Swallowtail butterfly, or the splendid three to four inch winged, Red-Spotted Purple butterfly. I know it is a subtle sign of hope that the Lord is guiding me to the precipice of healing, and to never question that He is always with me.
Beautiful! I believe in those signs too! I believe God wanted me to see that beautiful butterfly you shared. I have a tattoo of that butterfly, it is the same butterfly with a broken wing that I saw the day before my mom's funeral. It reminds me of though we are broken, we are perfect. You can see the tattoo (and story) on my "Through These Veins" page. Signs are everywhere. :)