By: Darrelyn L. Tutt

A meal is being enjoyed over excellent conversation when it's suddenly interrupted by a small "thud." Instinctively pushing myself away from the table I make my way into the living room and look out the bay window of my client's country home.
A beautiful unique looking bird meets my eyes;
She lays lifeless on the grass covered dew.
Her head bears distinct and unusual black and white striping;
Her feathered body is composed of polka dots,
And something about her is colored with beauty and I want her desperately to live.
Call me strange ... but something in her speaks to something in me and her eccentricities somehow electrify me and fill me with a strange surge of energy.
And blast on the clean window, my mind thinks.
My client looks at me in curious wonder as I grab my coat and mittens, throw on my boots, and explain the "thud" that her "hard of hearing" ears missed.
A brief and breathless explanation is given as to my hasty behavior and I hear her chuckling and speaking my name under her breath as I rush out the door.
My beautiful little feathered friend is dead.
I stroke her soft feathers and speak to her with hopes of a possible revival but her situation seems hopeless.
Her coloring is unusual and I snap a photo of her lifeless body.
 I lay her back down and feel sad inside and I return to my client.
My client looks at the photo with interest:
She has never seen such a bird and she has sat by that window a very long time.
She suggests the uniqueness of both the bird and the events that transpire in "my" presence and she chuckles again,
"So many 'firsts' with you, never a dull moment," she says,
"You and that bird."
Hmmm ...
My lifeless friend composed of stripes and polka dots lies dead and a little buriel under a tree seems appropriate; I just can't leave her and look at her like that.
One more time I put my coat and gloves on to retrieve her.
Guess what meets me but ... blinking eyes!
Happiness floods me with the realization that my little friend didn't die;
She only got blasted in the head so hard that she was knocked unconscious a good little while.
I pick her up and admire her coloring and I speak to God about her.
She looks so beautiful and vulnerable in my mittened hand and I can feel her heart racing so fast I fear she will die a "second" death in my presence.
I snap a photo as best I can while she struggles in an awareness of this strange, soft white-mittened nest with a desire to be free of it.
I lift her up,
She begins to fight me,
And the beautiful signs of life take hold and she wants to be free.
"Fly free little friend,
You were made for more,"
I whisper.
And I thank God for breathing life into the little bird and for the message He gives me upon her ascending departure:
Sometimes we pass through trials and heartaches that feel almost "death-like" in their hour.
But in reality ... we just blasted our heads and hearts so hard against a window that our breath got temporarily taken away and our heart quit beating for a moment;
But God's intention of getting our attention is fully realized ... and it is good.
 Christ comes near and comforts with a holy gloved white hand,
Offering safety and shelter,
Provision and promise.
He speaks life and breath into the little being made for a larger ascent.
And He whispers:
Come away with Me,
Fly away with Me,
You belong to Me.
And "together" the Great White One and the little winged one fly off together.
Cling to the promises of God;
You were made for more.
*See the photo of my friend by scrolling down to the bottom of the page.
"To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under the heaven."
Ecclesiastes 3:1