Sunday, April 12, 2009

Resurrection Day

In the saga of the dove, life goes on. For 2 days I looked for remnants of the cat kill, wanting to bury her, but there was nothing but a few feathers blowing on the lawn. This morning as I prepared food for the Easter feast I glanced at the bird feeder, and there on the ground two doves were contently eating. A third close by clung to another feeder happily munching away. We've only had 3 doves visit our yard, so unless one got a new mate then the dove family lives on...Happy Easter.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Good Friday

The mournful calling of a lone dove echoed in the early foggy morning. Opening my kitchen blinds I gasped; the nest was empty. Rushing to the door I saw the evidence I hoped not to see, broken eggs and feathers lay scattered on the ground. Hope dashed in the morning light. My hope that the dove family was a sign that we were out of the Valley of the Shadow of Death ended in a whimper as I cried out to John...another death...too many this year. The symbolism of last nights killing was not lost on me, last night it was Passover and the angel of death visited us again. Then, a vision of the priest at the temple in Jerusalem accepting the dove, the prescribed sacrifice for God to cleanse His people from sin. Another vision: our little dove giving her life to protect her family hoping to bring about new life, and now today, Good Friday, the day I remember that Jesus Christ died for love, to cleanse our sins. The little dove precious to God, Jesus his son precious to Him, and His beloved mankind ransomed when He laid down His Life. There is my hope, a hope that sustains me in this valley.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

A Little Bit of Hope

The worst thing about losing your mother is all the little things you want to share with her. Daily, since January when she left for heaven, I have caught myself thinking Mom would love this picture I took today. Emily Dickinson wrote that "Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul." Sometimes it takes a little hope sent from heaven to remember that even with your loved one gone, life can be look carefully at the little bit of hope I found outside my kitchen window. Look it's perched in the grapevine behind the angel.