You may already know about the bird in my garage. One morning this week, I went out the kitchen door to a very disoriented bird flying like a Kamikaze pilot around my car. I quickly scrambled back into the house to avoid being dive-bombed. When I cracked open the door to peek out, the bird decided that my kitchen light looked inviting and headed straight for me. You would think smashing into the door would have stunned him long enough for me to make my escape. Not so. It must have appeared to be the gate to freedom, because when I opened it a tiny sliver, I was face to face with a frightened bird flying right at me. Once again, the door closed just in the nick of time. Bam! He flew right into the door again.

The bird and I played this game for several minutes before I decided to wait him out. Standing inside the door with my ear pressed against it, I listened for a lull in his furious flight pattern. Once the fluttering stopped, I waited a bit to make my move. Jacket over my head and hands full, I made a break for the “button of freedom.” I could only hear the wings flapping wildly towards me as I tried to hit the opener without falling down the step. Once my hand pressed the button, I turned towards my car, trying to avoid the flustered fowl while limp-running to my vehicle. The noise of the garage door opening seemed to agitate him further, making my short journey seem like crawling across a battle zone. Not to mention the fact that I don’t move very fast these days. My legs seemed to be in slow motion.

My mind, however, was racing, trying to figure out how to get into the car without the bird following. My imagination ran ahead, picturing what I would look like driving down the road with a bird INSIDE my car with me. Blocking the images, and forcing myself to remain calm, I quickly surveyed the garage before opening the car door. The bird flew hysterically from side to side, and then in circles desperate to get out of the confinement. He was fast, so I waited until he was on the far side before quickly ducking into the car. Once the door was closed beside me, I breathed in a sigh of exhausted relief and took the coat off my head. My heart was racing, my hair a disaster, my stuff a mess, but I was safe inside my car. I started the engine, further frightening the bird…but I showed him the way out. And he followed me to freedom.

You can SEE the message. We frantically try to find our own way in life. We smash into walls. We worry and fret. We go in circles. All the while God simply wants to give us our freedom. He tries and tries to show us, but we are too worked up to see him. He appears to be an enemy. We push him away. We shake our fists at him. Then we watch, as he risks our fury and frustration to show us the way out…which is what we needed all along. He pushes the “Jesus button” and suddenly we can see the way to freedom and life. Pretty cool how he shows us the path, not just by telling us, or even by opening the door but by getting in there with us. I just love that about him.

Since the morning of the bird, I have found that he has a nest in my garage. Now each morning, he sings for me to open the door. Since that first day, he knows that I am helping him. No more frantic flight…a simple waiting…a calling out to me to set him free to live his day. Beautiful how God speaks isn’t it?