It was early one morning as my 16-year-old daughter was getting ready to leave for school. She had raised the garage door, and went in and out a few times, to load her car.
As she climbed in her car, she heard them.
The two sparrows.
Their tiny wings flapping. Flustered, frantic movements had inched the glue board across the garage floor and out onto the driveway. They squealed and squawked as they strained.
They had flown by the open garage door, on their way to breakfast outside. When they spied a ripe harvest of bugs, ready for the picking, stuck to a glue board inside the open, raised door.
But it was a trap.
A sticky glue trap.
It was never intended for them. They were just in the wrong place, at the right time.
My daughter came inside, distraught, and called for me to help.
Because, that’s what moms do, she had told me.
They fix things.
When I first spied them, my breath caught in my chest. I had no words. I was frozen.
But they continued to wrestle.
And my daughter flapped her arms… “Mom, do something!”
I quickly scanned the garage for a tool of some sort to release them. I knew they wouldn’t tolerate my hands simply grabbing them. Beside that, I feared… to be honest, that I would pull too hard and… well, yank them off their tiny legs.
I found a metal bracket setting on the tool chest and thought I could use it kind of like a spatula of sorts. But the glue was too thick. And with each movement, their little wirey feet sunk deeper. I needed a new solution.
As I started into the house, my daughter called after me. I assured her I’d return with something better and flew back out with some tweezers from my bathroom.
As I picked up the corner of the glue board, their movements halted. I meant no harm, only help. It only took a try or two and I was able to tweeze around one of the sparrows’ feet. He seemed to stand still for me.
Suddenly, he burst into flight. Free.
I exhaled… and sighed relief.
I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath all this time.
Gaining some confidence, I began to believe this would work.
But now the other sparrow had more room to move… to flutter. She had a greater surface on which to get stuck. And each time I approached her, she would turn her head to the side, as if to look up at me and say, “Please.”
Her eyes were so tiny, I could not read them. But I simply wished for some way to tell her… some way to communicate…. some way to show her I cared… and that I wanted her freedom.
It was clear that we were not working together. For each time one of her feet was loosened out of the glue, she would do this little dance, as if she was mad and stomp it back on the board. The more I tried, the harder she fought me. It was like aiming at a moving target. And with the next pinch of my tweezers her tiny foot began to bleed.
And it broke me.
I never meant to hurt her.
I froze, and simply stared at her little left foot… bleeding.
My daughter shook me with her words. She told me that I had to keep trying.
But the little sparrow laid down on her side, as if to give-up.
I prayed that God would help me. He cares, even for these tiny creatures.
Shaking my head, as if to get my courage back, and re-focus, I lifted her wing off the glue and continue to gently pry her feet loose, careful to cause no more harm. It took only a few more movements and she was free from board.
But this little one did not fly away. She simply hopped off, first into the flower bed… and then into the wooded area behind our house.
And I whispered, “Lord, heal her! ”
I never saw her take flight.
All day long, I cried for that little sparrow.
I simply could not get her off my mind.
The vision of her little foot bleeding before me, broken.
Her struggle to be free.
Not understanding how I was trying to help.
She was so tiny… I was so looming and large.
Yet without the understanding of my kindness, she struggled against my help.
And I was drawn back to my days as a flamingo.
Even though He has healed me…
the places inside are still so tender, so raw, so bare.
Her bleeding foot reminded me.
The look she gave me, saying she did not understand.
It was like God nudging me…
“Tell your story, Lisa.”
Only this time, the perspective was His.
I was the large and looming God, hovering over her life.
I was the one who had control, who allowed pain and hurt,
before she could really be set free.
She couldn’t understand.
She struggled so much.
She simply wanted the easy things of this world…
those that were baited, on that sticky trap.
Don’t fall for it… the easy things.
Don’t struggle against His hand when He enters your life.
You may not understand it all, but He truly is trying to set you free.
Hold still and let Him do His work.
Don’t pull back, don’t stomp and fight Him…
for it may only cause further hurt and pain.
He will free you.
He will heal you.
And soon you will fly again.
Each day I think of her, I continue to pray for the little bird.
And each time, I begin to cry.
And I wonder,
if that is how God feels
for those of us who never return.
Those who look at Him with misunderstanding, anger, fear.
Those who see Him as hurting them, rather than setting them free.
I bet He cries over those who limp away.
This is a VERY real story.
A very real happening that God allowed in my life.
He wants me to share my story, to give Him glory.
If this post moved you in any way, I am inviting you to the launch of my new website…
Tomorrow it begins… my new website: pinkflamingopurpose.com.
No worries… this website, rooted2overflow, will remain!
I am not discontinuing this blog, nor do I have plans to stop my devotionals.
I am however, participating in the 31 Days blogging challenge.
This telling of my story has been on my heart for the past three years.
I have written and re-written pieces and parts of a book
and have struggled much… to weave it together in a way that I felt would honor God.
This 31 Day Challenge seemed to be something that I could do.
Take 31 daily bites… smaller nibbles… trying to share all that God has done.
If you would join me in my journey, I would be honored.
click on the link above, or HERE, and sign up for daily emails!