Friday, May 1, 2015

The Gift that Can Fly: Thoughts From my Room by the Window

I found the gift that Christmas.  It wasn’t wrapped because it was not something my mother could easily cover with green and red paper and tape.  She decided to give me what I had asked for. She couldn't know how deeply my heart had desired it and maybe even needed it.   I see now that because of her love for me she gave to me what I wanted,  a good gift.  

I named him Chucky.  He was blue and white with some black and he sang a bird's song in a cage hanging from the hook near the patio door.  I think we were all smitten with him and all took turns singing and talking to him.  My mom, I think, did it the most because he learned to say what she said to him.  And we all learned to say her words to him; “Pretty Bird!”  And she would make a smoochy sound to him and we all learned to smooch.  And Chucky learned too. 

After I had had him for a while I wanted to let him out of the cage.  My Uncle, Jim Stevens, suggested I tie a little string to his ankle the first time so that I could take Chucky’s freedom back at my own will.  Chucky did not feel free with the string on his leg and he would only crash and awkwardly waddle around with the string on his ankle.  He would not fly with the string.

Sometime later my mother just opened the door.  She opened the door, no strings attached and Chucky flew.  He flew in the big family room and sang his “Pretty Bird” song and smooched at us all.  I think he smooched more having been set free.  After he flew around and around he landed atop his cage and sang most of the day. He sat up there telling us all that he was “pretty”.  And he certainly was as pretty as he said he was.  That is what he did best after all.   And when evening came he put himself to bed, going into his cage.  Mom would close the door and put a towel over the cage to help him rest and to see that he didn’t start his singing too early in the morning.

Freedom must be intoxicating because before long Chucky acted intoxicated.  When I would wear a ball cap, he would fly to me and land on the cap’s bill.  Turning upside down like a bat he would speak into my laughing face, “Pretty Bird!” and “Smooch, Smooch!”   Sometimes he took it too far and would land next to my plate of food thinking he might help himself.  The farther Chucky flew with his new freedom, the more my family and me delighted in him. 

Luke 11:13  If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” 


How can I fully absorb the magnitude of THIS gift given, not on a Christmas morning.  This gift I read about and know in my spirit recorded in Luke 11:13.   How do I absorb it just sitting here in my room by the window? 



Luke 11:13  If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” 


 The gift that is far too much to wrap up in red and green paper and tape. The gift that is given on any day we ask, not just at Christmas.  



Luke 11:13  If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” 

 My heart knows that I always need this gift far more than even I can realize.  I think it is a living gift that should not be contained.   And  for it to do its complete work of delight in me and you it must be free to set us free.  

 Will you join me in a state of wonder today?  Will you stay awhile to think this out for a time with me; the implications, intoxications, the filling up of our heart's desires?  How about our life time in holy contemplation? 

Romans 8:5  If you live your life animated by the flesh—namely, your fallen, corrupt nature—then your mind is focused on the matters of the flesh. But if you live your life animated by the Spirit—namely, God’s indwelling presence—then your focus is on the work of the Spirit.