From Fear into the Fascination of Feathers

HOW RESTING IN GOD OPENED MY MIND TO HIS IMMEDIATE PRESENCE 

 by Pringle Franklin

I came to my usual spot on the floor with trembling anxiety.

This particular morning, my powerlessness to fix my adult child’s  personal crisis pressed upon me, squeezing my chest.  Every  morning, in good times and bad, at home or in a hotel room, my day’s first activity is this: simply sit on a folded blanket in a dark room, praise God and Jesus Christ with whispered prayers, and silently concentrate on the enduring nature of the divine love.

In the quiet of this dawning day, I reminded myself: his eternal plan is bigger than my immediate situation. Today’s journey through this tunnel of compression, fear, and uncertainty would include a stressful doctor’s appointment, and I worried that a difficult scene might arise between the doctor and my son.

But that was still hours away. In this unfolding and present moment, I was being offered the gift of stillness.

I pushed out the anxiety, the questions about the future, the agitated stirring of negative energy. In prayer, I proclaimed the perfect nature of God and focused on reassuring images from nature.

Snowflakes came to mind, and I felt the soft hush they make, felt the soothing blanket of calm they gently drape over a landscape. Seen by my inner vision, each snowflake shimmered in its own symmetrical pattern of stems and branches. Time slowed down and lost all relevance as I wondered at their shockingly precise structures. Why had I never appreciated the fullness of their artistry before? I felt I could happily sit there and watch them twirl and dance for hours.

The scene shifted; next wispy feathers drifted across my mind’s visual field. As I sat there, eyes closed and legs outstretched on the floor, I could see the startling beauty of these simple yet complicated designs. As if with super-powered eyes, I admired the compressed rows of the rippled vanes.

photo by Eloise Claire

Stiff stems ran down each feather’s center and produced these flexible “hairs”, tight as rows of disciplined soldiers in a line, soft enough to tickle your nose yet aerodynamic enough to allow flight. My worries lifted, and I felt completely at ease, thinking only of the wonder of the whimsical and flirtatious feather.

Feathers! Even the name sounded playful; mesmerized, I gazed contentedly upon their ingenuity. Then I remembered a vision from about two weeks earlier: my son had passed a difficult night of illness in bed and repeatedly called me to his side to pray over him. During the long vigil, I began to feel exhausted and laid down nearby to fall asleep. Whenever my son called out, I would get up, go to his bedside, and pour my energy into intercessory prayer. At some point, with my eyes closed and my hands on my son’s shoulders, I was surprised to see the form of an angel standing guard behind him.

“There’s an angel here watching over you,” I told my son. “I can see him.” While his face and broad-shouldered body were a mere silhouette, the angel displayed his powerful wide-set wings — startlingly white, pure as cotton, the groomed feathers radiated light.

Was there a connection? This time I was seeing bird feathers and, for the first time, sensing the evidence of the divine fingerprints. Pure joy filled me, and I found myself softly laughing; all this gorgeous plumage — whether of birds or of angels — testifies to the creativity and generosity of our Maker. If the Creator God could conjure up an ensemble of

photo by Christine Roth

exotic feathers to outfit the  mottled barn owl, the cheery  red cardinal and even the  showy peacock, then God  could certainly take care of my needs.

My complete absorption in  the extraordinary minutia of  ordinary feathers felt  unnatural. Yet it was freeing:  an escape hatch had opened  in my dark tunnel. I had  emerged into a bluish white  field where crystalline  snowflakes and colorful, frilly  feathers swirled magically  around me.

Yet the sweeter the prayer  time, the bumpier the landing  can be when your wheels  touch back down onto the  runway of everyday life. Two  hours later, panic attempted to seize me as my son and I waited in the vestibule of the doctor’s office. Nothing seemed to be going well. We had arrived a few minutes early, and the doctor appeared rattled. He told us to sit and wait while he rushed toward his office, went inside, and shut the door.

In the past few weeks, he and I had exchanged several frustrating phone calls, and our working relationship was strained. I sensed an alarming gap between my son’s untenable position and the doctor’s level of concern. Would this appointment offer a breakthrough or only more agitation?

Against my wishes, my legs felt weak and shaky. I started to pace, hoping to calm down, when I spied a stack of old National Geographic magazines on a corner bookshelf. The top issue displayed a lovely photo of the Eiffel Tower; to distract myself, I walked over and picked it up. Scanning the cover, I saw “the curious evolution of feathers” plastered on the left side among the titles of the featured articles.

Feathers! Again?

Hastily, I flipped the magazine to the article and saw stunning, close-up, vivid pictures of the most peculiar and diverse feathers from around the globe. Long frilly feathers; tiny down

photo by Tim

feathers; spotted woodsy feathers; jungle green and berry red feathers; sleekly straight feathers; loose, floppy ridiculous feathers…who knew natural feathers actually appeared in so many styles? They could outshine the flowers in any springtime garden.

Ornithologist Dr. Richard Prum

“Feathers are the most complex organ that grows out of the    skin,” Yale professor Richard Prum was quoted as saying    in National Georgraphic.

Of  course they are, Prof. Prum! God Almighty showed me that  this  morning.

And in God’s wisdom, he combined meaningful function with    magnificent form. These show stoppers are surprisingly practical,  as the article explained: feathers are used for staying warm, for attracting mates, for sheltering young, for staying dry, for buoyancy, and of course, for becoming air bound.

My fear left me, and that otherworldly sense of peace flooded back. I wanted to dance around the waiting room and sing, “I love feathers and the God who created them!”

Instead, I smiled to myself and continued drinking in as many details of the lovely

photo by Jim Champion

photographs as my mind could process. Through the article, I felt God had sent me a little love note, reassuring me that he was with me in that difficult place. Thank goodness for the feathers that had filled my psyche that morning. Without the sanctuary of devoted prayer and the covering of personal time with my Lord, my life would unravel. In surrender to his loving embrace, my eternal self belongs safely to him. Outward circumstances cannot change this security. So what about the doctor? What about my son?

At this point, I cannot tie up the story with a neat Hollywood ending. However, I will continue to walk this unwinding and rocky road with hope in the Beloved One whose ways are beyond my understanding and whose love surpasses my expectations. And I will never overlook feathers again.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13

Click this link to read another amazing story about how God used feathers to comfort Cathy Rigg Monetti of Columbia,S.C. during a time of sadness. You will smile with wonder.http://thedailygrace.com/finds/

photo by Simon Keeping