I had a unique experience at our factory the other day. Mid-morning, and I had entered our structural hardware room. Large bright windows covered the entire southern wall. Something was amiss. Thumpings. Flutterings. It was a cardinal who had had the misfortune of entering an open door. Beautiful, brilliant red. A crystal clear song. My favourite bird. Seen and heard often in our steel yard, and in all kinds of weather.
Apparently he saw his only option for escape in the bright sunlight of the windows. Time and again he collided with the invisible barrier of the glass. Initially I took the approach of trying to whisk the little fellow into a cardboard box. He shrieked and evaded my efforts. Again and again into the glass.
It was evident that he was tiring in his efforts, and this was probably a good thing.
Finally I grabbed a cloth shipping bag and enclosed the panting little prisoner with a tender right hand grasp. He dared not to move. His brilliant little eyes examined me without any apparent emotion. What would be next? Destruction or release?
We were quickly out the back door. I saw a stack of wooden skids over to the right. I placed my friend upon the top boards. He sat there stunned for a few seconds. I shifted that skid slightly, and he was up and off. Back to his glorious perch under the sun in one of the trees at the edge of the yard.
What an interesting little parable on being lost, on exercising pointless self-help, on encountering a Rescuer and doubting His motives, on realizing finally that He means only friendship and freedom.
(Psalm 27: 13)
Doug Blair, Waterloo, Ontario