First Hummer and Thoughts of Grace

The wind is  blowing wild, wild.  The rain, like a cloud of mist from my spray bottle when I’m ironing, blows around the shed, into the garden and across the yard at Shady Acres.  I feel it smooth over my face as I scramble to cut the last few stalks of asparagus that can be called “ready.”

The house feels safe and dry and warm.  Blind Linda rocks to the gentle music of Fisher Prices “Baby’s First Hymns” in her chair and I call my Sweet Mama to see if it is raining there.  We chat about the surprise storm and then, suddenly–!

“Oh, there’s a hummingbird!”  My Mama’s voice is light and full of joy.

“Really???” I ask, almost enviously.  I’ve been looking for hummers for a couple of days, and even put two feeders up last evening, hoping to entice early scouts to our yard.

“Yes,” breathes my Sweet Mama.  “And I don’t have any food in mine yet.”

I come out of the study into the kitchen and mosey on over to the window.  At that very moment, a flash of green with a ruby red throat caught my eye as it made a dash for my most protected feeder on the deck.  I catch my breath.

“Mama!”  I say, almost unable to believe my eyes.  “I have one, too!  Just now!  It’s the first one I’ve seen this season!  I can’t believe it!  I am so happy!!!”

He darted around for a lengthy amount of time for such a flighty little bird.  He looked healthy and fit and ready for another summer.  I wonder how he likes this unpredictable weather, even while noting that it probably was somewhat the weather that drew him to a stable source of sustenance.  And I gave thanks for the unexpected gale.

The days since just before Easter have been tumultuous for this Delaware Grammy.  Just hard decisions to make, trying to please the right people while not making enemies of the ones who may or may not have the right to speak to the situation.  Wishing with all my heart to spend time with the Ohio grandchildren, but understanding that it just isn’t going to happen right now.  I’m feeling keenly some losses, and also feeling sad over choices made that were not mine to make, but never the less, are still heavy on my heart.  And there have been some difficult psychotic moments with OGA and some trying, anxious moments with BL.   More than once, it has felt like gale force winds and blinding rain. Today, at a funeral for an old lady that I barely knew, I found myself crying and knew it had nothing to do with the funeral and everything to do with how life is on several fronts right now.

I watched that little hummer at the feeder, blown by the wind, but seemingly indifferent to it, and realized again how it is really all good!  All these things that drive us to the stable source of soul sustenance are all good.  And I do not need to fret or worry or be dismayed.  The One who loves me and knows what I need is on the watch, and He will provide.

In my heart ring the lyrics of my Grandpa Dave Yoder’s favorite song:

  1. If, on a quiet sea,
    Toward Heav’n we calmly sail,
    With grateful hearts, O God, to Thee,
    We’ll own the fav’ring gale;
    With grateful hearts, O God, to Thee,
    We’ll own the fav’ring gale.
  2. But should the surges rise,
    And rest delay to come,
    Blest be the tempest, kind the storm,
    Which drives us nearer home;
    Blest be the tempest, kind the storm,
    Which drives us nearer home.
  3. Soon shall our doubts and fears
    All yield to Thy control;
    Thy tender mercies shall illume
    The midnight of the soul;
    Thy tender mercies shall illume
    The midnight of the soul.
  4. Teach us, in every state,
    To make Thy will our own;
    And when the joys of sense depart,
    To live by faith alone;
    And when the joys of sense depart,
    To live by faith alone.
    ~Lowell Mason

The sun is suddenly peeking out on this unpredictable day, and women I love are coming for our own small group while the men go to see Gary Burlingame.  There will be kind words, prayers and encouragement.

These days are made better by these glimpses of glory, touches of grace.

My heart gives grateful praise.

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