Cage-less Bird: An Allegory

A cage that has been locked for so long. Inside, a bird sits. Some days it tries to spread its wings and flap its way out, in desperation. Other days, it has not the energy or motivation to stir. Some days it has hope of one day being set free. Other days it believes it is destined to an enclosed life, knowing only the confinement of its cage.
Though it may try with all its strength to free itself from the cage, it cannot.
It needs intervention.
It needs someone to come and unlock the cage.
One day it comes to the end of itself, and calls out, as a final act of desperation. It wonders whether anyone can hear its cries. It begins with a faltering, tentative whimper and continues, the cries becoming stronger and louder. The bird knows that freedom is imminent, and it yearns for it. It longs to be able to open its wings without feeling the constricting bars of its cage. It longs to fly again. But oh, it has been so long. It's forgotten what it feels like to fly. It's forgotten how to fly.
Then, suddenly, it knows not how, but it perceives that today must be the day.
The day where it will finally be set free.
After a lifetime of confinement, it will finally see a different world from the one it's always known.
With much fear and trepidation of the unknown journey it is about to embark on, it reaches out.
At just the right time, and in just the right way, hands appear and cradle the lock, possessing the key that will unlock the cage.
Though longing for this moment for a lifetime, the bird hesitates and feels overcome by fear of the new thing that is unfolding. Everything it has ever known - life inside the cage - is about to change.
Its fears soon dissipate, however, the moment the door is flung open.
A fresh wind blows through its wings and it can finally see the beauty that has always surrounded it, but which it has never known. The wind carries fragrant promise and overwhelming hope.
The bird, overcome, slowly stretches out its little wings, which have been cramped for so long, and flaps them a few times, feeling strength returning and relief flooding its frame.
It feels like a baby bird again, having to relearn how to use its wings. It takes a few tries before it can fly without crashing to the ground. Soon, though, it flies high, catching the currents of air and soaring in the breeze. This is its song:

"I'm soaring with You now;

I'm flying on Your wings.

We're going past the clouds; 

I'm seeing what You see."

Sing winter

The snow is silently sprinkling outside my window. It's a Sunday afternoon. Silent, save for the occasional car that passes by on the street below. My soul is rested and satisfied. The beauty of winter surrounds me: millions of perfectly tiny, unique snowflakes are falling and resting on streets, sidewalks, steps, and shrubs. The below-zero air is crisp and nippy, but it's warm in here.

There's something really special about winter. If you're not a winter-sports or snow kind of person, you're probably grumbling about having to shovel your driveway, scrape off your windshield, or driving visually impaired. If it's not any of those, it's the cold itself. You're probably dreaming about being able to wear flip flops and tank tops again, or a perfect sandy beach on a deserted island in the middle of Pacific.
Not me! I am loving every moment of it. Well, okay, I'm not gonna lie - there are times when I can't feel my feet and when the cold goes through my bones that I could really go for some time on the beach in Kona, buuuuut for the most part, I am loving it (especially when I am all warm and bundled up!). For someone that has grown up in a desert her whole life and who has never experienced anything below 10C to her remembrance, winter is kind of a big deal!

It's bringing out the inner child in me; wonder and awe are being awakened in my heart. I run over and peek out my window when I wake up to the sound of someone shoveling snow outside. It makes me want to jump up and down and dash outside so I can play in it or catch snowflakes on my tongue. It's deeper than that, though. It's like God is romancing my heart in a new way. He's showing me other aspects of the beauty of His character as He unveils sides of His creativity through winter that I've never seen before.
The desert is one of the most peaceful places I've ever been in, but a silent, snow-covered forest is pretty comparable. There's so much beauty in winter that is often overlooked. I love the sound of packed snow crunching under my feet, the sight of the branches clothed in white, and the peace that accompanies the falling flakes. I love that there's still life and beauty during a season where everything is supposed to be "dead". You see, He makes dead things come alive. That's who my God is.

May your heart be reawakened to the beauty of winter.
May you learn to marvel at the small things in life.
May you experience joy in ways you have never before.

Frozen in time: a perfect snowflake caught in my hair