Fledgling Flight

I am your little bird—

Snuggling in your big strong hands—

Tucked in Your front pocket—

Warming to the beat of Your heart.

I am fuzzy and happy,

Innocent and unafraid.

For I am Your little bird—

You said so.

I am completely at ease-—

 

Untried.

Yet to fly.

Pocket protected.

 

Oh, so there is more?

What could be more than the soft downy here in Your inner pocket?

Snuggled next to Your beating heart?

 

Stretch your wings, little one—

There are dreams hidden there, neath the downy feathers.

 

Fly? Are you saying fly?

But, but, that would mean I would be in the direction of “away”—

 

Birdie smile fades.

Wrinkled brow rises stiffly.

Feathers fluff, as against a cold wind,

 

Then—

Your laughter cracks the cloudy sky, and the sun beams warm upon my wings.

 

Not to fear little one—

Never away if you mount My winds.

The winds of the spirit and I are one—

We can take you anywhere and anywhere will not be away,

But in—

 

In the center of my heart.

In the power of my love.

In the wind of my spirit .

 

A breeze comes up under Father’s strong arms-—

I cannot stop the stretching of my wings against its beckoning,

I must admit the wind seems to belong-—

A little gust and aloft I flutter.

 

I  am flying!

Father!

I hear His laughter on the wind.

 

You are riding, little bird, but flying day will come,

Enough for now.

 

As He places me back into His oh so soft pocket, I become drunk with sleepiness.

But dreams of breezes that catch my untried wings and stretch them to new places fill my head.

The beating of His big heart and soft delight of His laugher lull me into deep rest—

Not away, but in.

 

If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and our right hand shall hold me.  Psalm 139:7 NIV