The birds in the planter outside the window have grown to a size where they are vying for space in their crowded nest. Why the parents waited so long to start their little family is a mystery to us. Only a couple of weeks ago we became aware of the nest after watching the sparrows enter and exit the dense blanket of flowers with purposeful activity. Now, the little mouths, open in silent screams, wait for the food to bulk them up and prepare them for their harsh entry into the real world where they will fend for themselves. It appears that soon there will be an empty nest as the autumn creeps up on the hanging basket.
Within our home, we too are preparing for just such an event. Over the past school year, the recent months and summer days, we have prepared our daughter for what we believe she will need to leave for college. The conversations have helped us plan for situations in advance; the shopping trips have supplied the necessary and comforting staples to extend the feeling of home beyond this cozy and coddling environment. In less than a day we will take it all to her dorm and return home to our emptier walls. Lyn meanwhile, busy with her own goodbyes to friends, prepares excitedly for her departure.
In a hospital bed in the cancer unit of Fairfax hospital lies a dear friend. This expert of diaphanous and flighty dragonflies is tied to her bed by webs of tubes that supply her with palliatives and nourishment – essentials to maintain her life since the latest and unfavorable medical reports. Nancy, once an energetic explorer of the wonders of the natural world, is confined to a room that has become her interim residence, where amid friends and loved ones, she also is preparing and longing for her departure for a pain-free heavenly home.
And in the space of a few hours they all left. A silent, empty planter revealed that the birds had taken flight to discover the world beyond the nest. A phone-call confirmed that Nancy had made her departure, breaking free of the earthly and flimsy chains that had held her; early next morning we brought Lyn to college and said our goodbyes.
No doubt each of these departures took place with the conflicting emotions of fear and expectation of what lies ahead; those who are left behind experience their own emotions of relief and pain of loss. But each was prepared and ready to go to the next stage, to break free and embrace what lay ahead – the birds to the world of flight, Lyn to the future, and Nancy to a new body. As we watch, we commit them all to the loving care of our Lord who reminds us:
Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns; and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?
Matthew 6:27
August 20-21 2005 - Jill Moore
