Hummingbird

"Consider the birds of the air..."

Photo by Dulcey Lima on Unsplash

A hummingbird shimmering golden
flits over the river.
Shining in morning sun
And I wonder, where does she nest? 
How long has she been awake and
privy to the morning glories?
Did we rise with the sun together? 

The scent of aspens waft in the breeze,
breathing life into my dreams of this paradise. 
We all belong here, in the mountains. 

Her wingbeat hums melodies of Divine secrets,
of maps we'll never decode to places we'll never discover.
She dances in colors only One spoke into existence.

So I stand and listen, breathing with the rhythm of living music: 
chirps, scurries, rustles, scuttles, wind, water, wings, breath, groans. 
As she buzzes above me, it's as if she whispers, 
Truly, we all belong here. 

In July, I gathered with my childhood friends. We met out west, in Colorado. We rented a literally charming (I mean, I really felt enchanted) AirBnB right smack dab in a mountain—snuggled between a small river (claiming to be a creek based on its name) and forest. Our time together was nothing short of healing, restorative, reminiscent, and purely joyful. These are the women who have known and loved me from girlhood, through adolescence and teenagehood, and still today.

One of them volunteered my first day of third grade at a new school to befriend me and taught me how to put my hair in a bun; she and another one took a redeye flight home from NYC when my dad died; another one taught me to climb trees and treat nature as a playground; another often quoted “sk8er boi” with me, binge-watched Lost, and had “chemistry study” sleepovers with me; two were close neighbors and we were together almost every day (it’s laughable that intially our moms forced us into friendship); and still another hosted the best “goodbye" (party?) gathering when I was going to move away (but didn’t) in fifth grade (and most recently, she jumped off a cliff next to me); another joined a little later, and we’re so glad she did. All of them heard my deepest (sometimes darkest) secrets. They were the friends every single adolescent, tween, and teenage girl needs in her life.

Seven women who know me and my history intimately. (Note: This doesn’t at all trivialize my friendships beyond high school. My friendships now are so precious and essential in my life, and I cannot imagine my life without them.)

I wrote about these women not too long ago, in a poem about friendship, and I intend to write about friendships throughout every season of my life through poetry. Friendship is such a gift, and my belief in that was rejuvenated in July.

Most mornings, I woke up around 4:45 AM MST, so I’d sit on the main level, read and pray, until another Midwest girl on EST tiptoed down and enjoyed the sunrise with me. Eventually, we’d make our way out on the deck, and that is when I saw the hummingbird. Sweet bird.

Many years ago, one of these friends made me an art print that quoted one of my favorite Bible verses, “Even the birds of the air…” She painted the words on a background of a whimsical bird scene.

Here’s the full text:

Consider the birds of the sky: They don’t sow or reap or gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren’t you worth more than they? Can any of you add one moment to his life span by worrying? And why do you worry about clothes? Observe how the wildflowers of the field grow: They don’t labor or spin thread. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was adorned like one of these. If that’s how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and thrown into the furnace tomorrow, won’t he do much more for you—you of little faith? Matthew 6:26-30

Jesus spoke of God’s love and tender care for his creation. If he cares for small birds and flowers that fade, won’t he care much more for me? And you? And her? And him?

Yes. Yes, he will.

Today, I reflect on one of the greatest ways that God “clothed and fed” me—through sweet friendship: past, present, and future.

Thanks be to God.

Consider how he’s cared for you today. Consider the tiny but breathtaking hummingbirds. May they remind you of the unfathomable love of God.

Peace to you and yours,

Kelly

Reel Recently…

1. Some artwork gets tossed, but some will be kept until she’s an adult and decides to throw it out. :) 2. My first ripe heirloom tomato from the garden. 3. My first time baking my own pie pumpkin. With the puree, I made pumpkin cookies. Then roasted the pumpkin seeds. So delish. 4. Fairs are magical. 5. Monarch at Kennedy Woods! 6. Cherry tomato overload over here, if you need some! 7. Enlisting my children to help me transport and wash our Jack B Littles. Just teaching them work ethic, building character, and having fun.

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