Feathers and Wings

The sun is not out, the rain is pouring down and as I sit staring outside my study window at the long grass I'm claiming to grow into a wildflower meadow I see stuck to a long blade of grass a feather. In the wind it holds on tight and doesn't want to let go. 

I open my front door, realise that the torrential rain means I shouldn't go out in my slippers, put on my trainers and go to rescue the feather clinging for dear life to the the blade of grass as the wind blows strongly. 

The feather is now on my desk. It dried out quickly, it's found its shape again, but it is clearly feeling the effects of that moment in the storm. It looks a bit bedraggled and will never be the same again, not least because its fallen from the wings of the bird it belonged to. 

Over the last 18 months or so I have found the image of being under God's wings really helpful. It comes from Psalm 91:4 which says:

"He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart"

At the moment I desperately want refuge. I desperately want to find calm in the storm, I love the moments when I'm snuggled up in my duvet with nine pillows (yes nine) in my smallest bedroom because it feels cosiest and a bit like a protective nest. 

But every day I have to get up and carry on doing the work I am called to. And each time I do that I worry what I might encounter and I don't want to go to the shop and I feel grief for the state that our country, that the world is in as we face what is before us. The protective wings don't feel like they are there any more. At a time where we are encouraged to hide, hiding is not possible, and to be honest, there are times I'm a bit scared. 

While I know that God is with me, I have to emerge from under the protection of his wings as I do the work I need to do, as I encounter difficult situations and have to go out into the community to make sure that other people can find shelter under his wings, as I guide people to where the shelter lies and look after those that despite being under the shelter are so battered and bruised they need gentle tender care.

My encounters with God, right now, are not about the safety of being under His wings, but are about the feathers that are promised - "he will cover you with feathers". And as I walk onwards, away from the safety of the hidden places, it is the feathers that remind me that there is a safe place and I will return to it, if not today, another day, if not another day, one further away - but those wings are still there. 

As I watch the feather clinging onto the grass in the rain and the wind, it becomes a sign of hope - that there are wings, the safe place is there. As I see the sunshine break through the rainclouds, goldfinches on my drive, the clematis in the back garden come into bloom, the smile that greets me as I knock on a door and the signs of thriving despite - those things, they bring promise that again those wings will be where I find rest once more.

But for now, I simply need to recognise that God is here, he is working, he is living, he is active. He is in the actions and the sacrifice of those who each day emerge from the safety of their doorways, scatter, do those things they have to do, ready to return to do it all over again. He is in the sunshine and the rain, the voices on the end of the line, the loud singing of the London birds, the weekly zoom meetings that bring life (some of them actually do) and in the feathers that dance in the wind and the rain that remind us that those wings, they are there.