Find the Swallow
Five days have passed since my little nine pound “Companion of Grace” entered our lives. I think I feel like so much has happened but so little seems to be getting done. Motherhood, right!?
I sit outside this morning, jacket on, warming my hands with this favorite cup, and listen to the swallows and watch the leaves shiver and shimmer in the cool, sunny dawn. I may just be sitting in a piece of heaven, and if I’m honest, I just don’t want to leave. Kids wake and I walk inside to pour three cups of chocolate milk and a bowl of cereal and answer questions about things that are kind of unimportant to me but are very important to them. I walk a bit slower; smiling and laughing are a little less free these days. I look straight up into the heavens and see the pure white crescent shape of the moon that is now shining over different parts of the world, and I long to “hang” up there in the heavenlies. I want to breathe the pure air that doesn’t just heal my physical bones but my spiritual ones as well.
I listen to the swallows. I look up what they symbolize. Freedom. Hope. Renewal of life. And it somehow all comes together for me. How, when I was a girl in North Carolina my favorite part of the morning was to hear them sing their morning song, and then as the lightening bugs would begin to appear at dusk, I would smile at their farewell, evening song. When there were days without the assurance of home, they gave their gift of song and I was comforted. Yes, there was freedom, there came hope, and life seemed new in those moments. Maybe that’s why I have this Cinderella fascination with birds these days. I favor my sparrows, but I have enjoyed watching all of them. With the windows open throughout these cool nights, I get to wake to their “alarm.” It’s like Father beckoning me to wake to His new mercies and faithfulness, and I eagerly come, be it after 7 hours or 2 hours of sleep. I can’t help it; I just want morning!
These “new” days will soon fly away. Life will find its way and resume to a new kind of normal and these weary, emotional days will become memories tucked away. Oddly enough, I find I don’t want to rush them away, sweep them out the door, or wish for a different season. Maybe it’s crazy or maybe it’s wisdom (and sometimes don’t those seem one and the same) but I guess I’ve found that being open-handed in everything, thankful in everything (every up, every down, every easy, every hard, every joy, and every sorrow) is better than trying to bypass them for an instant ease. I can easily say I don’t want this exhaustion or these weepy emotions or these adjustment and transitions, but the truth is…I think I do. Not so I can see the “measure of this woman,” but so I can see the measureless grace of God.
‘Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the achings of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy
And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are Your mercies in disguise
Then, if all this is true, why would I ever choose to satisfy more of me and miss more of Him? So, in these post-pregnancy days, I allow all the feelings and emotions and thoughts run their course through my body, mind, and spirit. I lean into Him, His arms, His comforting Voice, and I hear Father…
How great is Your goodness
that You have stored up for those who fear You
and accomplished in the sight of everyone
for those who take refuge in You.
You hide them in the protection of Your presence;
You conceal them in a shelter Psalm 31:19-20
You are my hiding place;
You protect me from trouble.
You surround me with joyful shouts of deliverance. Selah…
Many pains come to the wicked,
but the one who trusts in the Lord
will have faithful love surrounding him. Psalm 32:7, 10