Feathered Grace

"He will cover you with His feathers,
   and under His wings you will find refuge;
 His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.'
                                              Psalm 91:4

Sometime back in high school, Hunter (Son #3)--needing funds to feed his Chick-Fil-A and Milo's habits--created his own dog/house sitting business: Hunter's Hounds and Homes. (He's got some great stories from these adventures!) Several families still call on him while he's home during the holidays to care for their pets while they are away for Christmas. On Christmas Eve about 9:30 p.m., he set out for one last check on the dogs. (He tells clients he's willing to stay any night but Christmas Eve--guess he thinks Santa might not leave anything if he can't find him!) I'm busy in the kitchen, happily preparing for dinner the next day.  Out of the corner of my eye I see Austin reaching for the front door, and he stammers, "Um, Hunter just called and he's having a little trouble with the dogs.  I'm going to help him." Probably my incredulous look caused him to revise his story right away.  (Hunter may need help with lots of things, but not dogs--he's the dog whisperer!) "Well, actually, he's just run off the road a bit, and I'm going to check on him. But he's fine; he's fine." My heart began to gallop, my mind racing wildly, and I began praying fervently.  In a few minutes I called Hunter who reassures me that he is fine as he tells me about the deer that darted out in front of him and how he swerved to miss it and ended up hitting a tree. All the while he's trying to ease my concerns.  "Yes, the air bag went off... a kind man who lives across the road heard the crash, came out and stayed with me...Austin is here now... Yes, the car is pretty bad, but I'm fine, really--I'm fine."  

At least somewhat convinced, I hung up and breathed relief.  Within moments though, the "what ifs" charged in mightily.  The tears stormed as my mind wrote a different story and then even went back to that terrible golf cart accident his tenth grade year. As I cried out to the Lord in my "what ifs," He seemed to say, "NO--you must look at what IS.  He is fine; I, along with My army of angels, protected him.  (Psalm 91:11) You must not consider what might have been--only what IS.  And I AM."  Yes, Lord. I did hear Hunter's voice; he is fine.

A little while later Austin called to let me know that the policeman was there and they were waiting on the tow truck as he reassured me yet again that Hunter was okay.  I'm much calmer now, baking the traditional red velvet cake as part of my therapy, and thanking the Lord over and over that he was not injured.  Suddenly, the jingle bells on my front doorknob begin to sound as the door opens. My heart somersaults, but this is where the comic relief begins.  

Dallas and Caleb had come by to check on me.  They had already been to the accident site and wanted to reassure me that Hunter was indeed unharmed.  As they opened the door, a bird--one that apparently had been nesting in my wreath--flew inside!  It whizzed right by my head into the kitchen where the counters were covered with food: three layers of red velvet cake cooling, bacon for the green bean casserole... Dallas starts tearing off paper towels and covering the food; I'm just wringing my hands and squealing; the silly bird is darting from the top of the kitchen cabinets to the top of the bookcase in the den and then back to the kitchen and then flitting all over the den.  Meanwhile, we won't let Caleb come into the kitchen (he's banished to the dining room) because his large unwrapped Christmas present--a basketball goal--is sitting here.  (There's rarely a surprise gift when your children are grown, and I didn't want to spoil that!) He can hardly breathe because he's laughing so hard.  Doubled over in fact. We now have the front and back doors open. Dallas has grabbed the vacuum cleaner attachment (yes, I still had some cleaning to do before dinner guests arrived the next day) and is chasing our feathered guest with it, trying to swoosh it out. Ah--it is now in the foyer--almost to the front door! Caleb runs down the front steps and begins whistling, and the little bird flies out!  Just like that.  (I guess we now have a bird whisperer in the family, too!)

Now we're all laughing until Dallas points to the ceiling.  There are a number of dark spots sprinkled around.  Gross... Yes, that was my first thought, too, but thankfully, they were only tiny bird feathers!  A kitchen chair, more paper towels, and a clean ceiling again. Whew--what a night!  As we're still chuckling and shaking our heads in disbelief, Caleb mentions something about this resembling a Griswald Christmas. "Well, the Lord knows when we need a comic relief, and He must have thought this was a good time for one." Indeed. Not sure when I have run through such a gamut of emotions in one evening. I raced out to meet Austin and Hunter as they drove up, tears spilling out again.  This time though, they are streams of gratitude.  I am reminded of my many blessings: that Austin was home to go help his brother, that Hunter is without a blemish even though the car was totaled, that the newlyweds care so deeply (and are so quick-witted), and that a little bird has brought us laughter. God is so good to give us what we need in our time of need. 

I saved one of these feathers, taping it to an index card with the caption: "Grace in time of need--December 24, 2015" and tucked it in my Bible. I always want to remember how grace showed up with feathers on this most memorable Christmas Eve. First, covering Hunter in his car and then covering the fear in my heart. Indeed our faithful Father covered us with His feathers and there we found refuge.  He is so worthy of our trust.  A little bird told me...