Feathers of Faith

I spent several days with my father, who graciously offered to lend a hand around the house and help with the kids. It was a delightful time, especially since my boys cherish every moment spent with their grandpa. On that first morning of my father’s visit, my youngest son couldn’t contain his excitement, eagerly jumping out of bed before me. As I lay there, still waking up, I listened to the lively exchange between him and my father, spanning topics from geography and languages to politics, war, and, of course, football. Their conversation flowed effortlessly for over an hour and a half, leaving me in awe of their natural rapport and shared interests. It was as if they were crafting memories with each word exchanged, drawing me into the warmth of their connection and making me reluctant to leave the comfort of my bed.

It became evident to me that having grandchildren and being involved in their upbringing has brought newfound purpose and joy to my father’s life. Beyond his culinary prowess, he possessed a natural gift for mentoring and guiding young minds, a quality revered not only by our family but also by a wide circle of friends and acquaintances. I recall a time when, at around the age of six, he was asked to chaperone a group of teenagers on a school trip due to a teacher’s need for assistance. My brother and I tagged along, witnessing first-hand how adeptly he managed the group, channeling their energy and ensuring their safety. Now, my children, along with their cousins, have the privilege of growing up alongside their grandfather, a blessing I hope they’ll cherish for years to come. 

A Trapped Bird’s Lesson

As the day of our cleaning lady’s visit approached, my father suggested we step out for coffee, allowing her ample space to work her magic, so we ventured out for coffee with my younger son at a nearby sports venue. Before stepping out of the apartment, my father humorously quipped, “Looks like we’re finally keeping up – I’m not lagging behind for once!”. A playful smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he referred to his prosthetic leg, a companion for over thirty years.

Upon our arrival at the coffee spot, my son dashed off to play football while we were approached by the waiter, seeking advice on a small bird that had inadvertently flown into the enclosed terrace and couldn’t find its way out. The little bird remained stationary, hardly budging from its spot. We held onto hope, thinking that perhaps if we left it alone, the bird would eventually realize it could fly away. After all, it had bumped into the windows a few times, likely leaving it disoriented and dizzy. In a flash, a flurry of thoughts raced through my mind: What had I collided with, and with what force, leaving me disoriented and dizzy for weeks now? Or had I ventured into unfamiliar territory or inadvertently stumbled into a situation requiring a pause for reflection on my path forward?

The little bird and I found ourselves in similar predicaments, both recipients of well-intentioned but ultimately ineffective interventions aimed at hastening our recovery. While my father offered the bird refreshment with water drops, and the waiter attempted to motivate it with a broom, neither approach yielded the desired outcome. Instead, the bird retreated further from the exit, seemingly more bewildered than before.

Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” – Matthew 6:26-27

The Challenge of Stillness and Healing 

As for me, I’ve been inundated with advice, most of it emphasizing the need for rest and caution in my activities. It’s a chorus urging me to conserve energy, avoid unnecessary exertion, and allow myself the time needed for recuperation. Yet, amid this sea of well-meaning counsel, I find myself searching for a beacon of guidance, a path forward that resonates with my own intuition and understanding of what my body requires. This entails coming to terms with the possibility that this condition of mine may persist for weeks, or perhaps even months.

Even as I write these words, I sense a flicker of internal resistance, a defiance that defies easy explanation. It’s a struggle to envision myself enduring this state for such an extended period. How can I summon the patience required to navigate this uncertainty? How do I reconcile this need for inaction with the nagging sense that I should be doing more?

Paradoxically, any attempt to engage in activity only seems to exacerbate my physical and mental discomfort, leaving me trapped in a cycle of frustration and inertia. However, I refrain from vocalizing my discomfort, hesitant to express discontent when reminded that my situation could be far more severe. Yet, I ask you to briefly imagine the relentless dizziness and its accompanying symptoms, persisting with every slight movement, even a mere shift in bed. The only thing more unsettling than these symptoms is the uncertainty of what lies ahead, casting a shadow over any semblance of a path to recovery.

Finding New Wings

Will I simply rise from my bed and resume my routine, pretending as if nothing has changed? Can I return to work and maintain a facade of normalcy, concealing the inner turmoil? Or is a significant change necessary to safeguard my well-being? If so, where do I begin? Where should I head?

Who knows, maybe the little bird shares the same dilemma, unsure of where to venture once it’s finally able to fly. Maybe both of us will find our wings when we know where to direct our flight. Alternatively, maybe it’s when we physically feel strong that we’ll understand not just how to fly, but also where.

I can’t speak for the bird, but the idea of returning to my previous normalcy feels terrifying. The relentless rhythm of my former life, filled with constant work, bustling activity, always on the move, left me perpetually drained, caught in a ceaseless cycle of running. I struggle to envision returning to that state. But then, what other options lie ahead? And after all, is this a time for soaring aspirations or a time to relish the quiet joys of everyday existence, enveloped in the warmth of love?

In my heart, I hold fast to the conviction that every talent needed to craft the life of my dreams has already been entrusted to me by a benevolent Higher Power. It’s simply a matter of recognizing and embracing them. Yet, amidst all aspirations, my greatest fulfillment lies in witnessing the flourishing of my two beloved sons, actively engaging in their journey.

Whatever challenges may come, I stand ready, fueled by the unwavering belief that within me lies the power to shape my destiny and the lives of those I cherish. So, onward I march, with boundless hope and unwavering determination, for I know that with faith and perseverance, anything is possible.

Have you ever found yourself in a moment of uncertainty, waiting to discover where your wings might take you? How do you navigate those times when the familiar is left behind, and the unknown beckons?