Bluebird

Bluebird

I stepped out the back door and heard it before I saw it: a tailless bluebird fluttering its wings against the sunporch screen—frantic but unable to fly. Tail feathers, it seems, provide essential lift for birds that mean to soar.

I moved closer; its wings flapped harder. I thought if I could position myself near enough, I might cup it in my hands and move it—before my curious dog went out for his first loop around the yard. Twice I tried to put my hands around the bird, and twice it flapped wildly, scaring me away. Then I saw a slim piece of branch broken from the pecan tree by the porch and scooted it under the bird’s feet. It flapped as it grabbed hold, and I took a few hurried steps then flipped it—and the branch—over the waist-high fence dividing my yard from my neighbor’s. (They have no dog.) It landed near their raised garden and, the next time I looked, was gone. I went back to the house, opened the door, and let Burley run.

For the rest of the day, I did reconnaissance in the yard before I let Burley out. I didn’t want the morning’s rescue to be in vain. But I also knew that, very likely, my bluebird friend would not survive for long. Not if it couldn’t fly. And human hands—even careful, loving ones—could not long ensure its safety. It was missing something essential. It was beautiful, but deeply flawed.

So am I. So is almost everyone I meet. We need something beyond ourselves if we hope to do more than flap and squawk and bump along through life. We are hopelessly earthbound and fated to failure without the lift that comes from beyond ourselves. We were made to soar, but without intervention, our wounds will surely do us in.

God helps us. He saw our plight and sent his Son in a form that did not frighten yet was full of power to save. Now to those who are the Son’s, he gives his Spirit: the lift we need to live the life we’re made for. We’re vulnerable, yes. But help is near. His hands mean to do the wounded good, and his scars say he knows well the price of doing so.

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

Psalm 147:3, ESV