WAITING FOR THE HUMMINGBIRD. Big Blessings That Come In Tiny Packages.
She hugged her pillow, embracing the familiar worn, gray, pillowcase, and rolled to her side so she could look at him. The coiled springs of the unacquainted mattress groaned and grumbled as she curled into comfortable. She pulled and draped the patchwork, country quilt over her bare shoulder as she lightly swept her hand across her forehead, pushing away her tangled brown hair. His eyes were closed, relaxed, restful, and the image made her smile. His rhythmic breath had sputtered when she twisted, searching for her niche, but steadied its rhythm with her stillness. The days preceding this precious moment had been troubling, scattered, and edgy. Relaxed felt unnatural, but it had unexpectedly showed up and she had invited it to stay, at least for the weekend.
Morning softly danced through the open, screened, window casting shadows on the knotty pine walls and bouncing beams of sunlight from the antique dresser mirror to the opposite corner. She stared up, fixing her eyes of the tall, angled, pine ceiling, and the heavy, solid wood beams that made the cozy, cabin, bedroom feel spacious and grand. She looked forward to the nothingness that lay ahead of them during this “gotta-get-away” weekend, and she hoped desperately that she could find it.
She ran her fingers through the coarse graying hairs on his chest and gently touched his face and beard. The ten consecutive days of brain radiation had marked him with its residual mementos of hair loss and radiation rash that speckled his scalp. She looked at his handsome profile and his weakened, battered body; all she could see was his strength. She softly kissed his cheek and quietly slid towards the edge of the bed until her feet found the floor. The fatigue had poured into him like wet concrete, weighting his steps and soaking his endurance. He needed to sleep. She tiptoed across the wooden floor, cringing and hushing the squeaking floor boards as she hurried into the hallway. She hoped for his rest, and prayed for sweet dreams, as she stepped slow and silent down the stairs, casting her eyes on the picturesque porch that waited beyond the wood trim moldings and glass french doors.
She was glad she had remembered to grab her familiar pillow from her bed at home. Backing out the driveway, four hours southeast of where she stood, her mind was checking the list of the items she remembered to pack and scanning for the empty, forgotten boxes. Pain medicine. She hurried back through the house to his bedside table, checked the labels and gathered the pills. It was then that she tucked her pillow under her arm, assuring a bit of comfort within the unfamiliar bed that lay ahead of them.
She liked a bit of mundane in her day; a small slice of consistent and unchanged. The past few years had been stained with the unexpected, dappled with unknowns and disillusion. As hard as she pushed, shoved, and prayed, cancer was never out of her mind, not completely. She wanted a miracle, she wanted a good surprise. The doctor’s reports, the needles in his veins that pumped cancer-killing liquid into his body, his pain…it all left her flat. Yes, she wanted a good surprise.
The long, timbered, covered porch extended the length of the mountain cabin that they would call home for the weekend. Between the wooden handrails and the canopied roof was a rolling, mountainous, panoramic view that flooded her eyes with beauty and tears. Above her, and hugging each and every mountain, was a shade of blue that she was certain she had never seen before. To her left, hanging quietly from a wooden roof beam, was a lonely, red, bird feeder. She unfolded the blanket that draped the back of the couch and wrapped it over her shoulders. It was a bright, cool, crisp, perfect morning. She nestled into the large, weathered, Adirondack chair and took her first sip of coffee. She sat silent, as the sunlight shifted, silently casting its rays on the mountains and the leaves. She stayed still for a long time, watching the light slowly expand its brilliance, offering an ever-changing, fresh perspective of nature’s artistry.
It was so quiet; she closed her eyes to lend sight to her ears. The air was still; there was no rustle of leaves, no creaking, swaying branches, no movement of water, or a babbling creek. The gravel road, that inclined and curved to their mountain get-away, was silent, no rumbling of engines, or tires crunching rock…for a moment, she wondered if time had stood still. A part of her heart wished that it had. She felt the familiar, gritty lump travel up her chest and into her throat as her heavy, disheartened thoughts pierced through her peaceful surroundings.
She heard a buzz. Her eyes were still closed as she shifted her narrow, inner thoughts outward, and listened. The soft, distinct, buzz drew closer and she opened her eyes, shifting her sight to the lonely, red, bird feeder hanging patiently from the wooden roof beam. The tiny, bright green hummingbird floated and waltzed, back and forth, around, and upside down the red bird feeder, dipping its long, narrow beak into the sweet feast within. She didn’t move a muscle, she didn’t want it to end. Joy washed into the empty, dark alleys of her heart as she memorized the tiny dancer.
Her perspective flip flopped…just like that. Entering the silence of that crisp, perfect morning; in her cozy chair; on that beautiful deck, extending from her dream cabin in the woods, overlooking a breath-taking view of the Blue Ridge mountains; all beneath a cloudless sky; there came a hummingbird, and she knew that she was blessed. Just as her sad, sullen thoughts flooded in; as her cup turned from half full to half empty, there came a hummingbird, and she had a front row seat to its rare, playful, and joy-filled show. In that moment she knew that God had buzzed in, and delivered her a good surprise.
She relishes the memory, sinking deep into the blessing of the moment, elevating herself to that Adirondack chair, on the long, timbered deck, overlooking the breathtaking mountain view. She lingers in the quiet now. Her heavy thoughts are less reckless and hasty; unknowingly, she has discovered patience within the silence. The hummingbird gave her hope, reminding her that even when God is silent and quiet, he is there, always with her. The hummingbird was her gift, a symbol that God can break his silence at anytime, unexpectedly, and deliver a good surprise. She squeezes Kevin’s hand, kisses his healing scalp, and she smiles. Together they cast their eyes on the mountains before them; patiently, peacefully, they wait for the hummingbird.
