Soaring and Stillness: Life with the Chickadees

I’ve deeply wrestled lately with identity and purpose.  I believe I’m prepared for the road. I’ve diligently studied the map. But then, BAM, there is an unexpected turn or I encounter brambles that pull and tear at my clothing. Here, in the unknown, I turn into a frazzled, frustrated mess questioning each inch of the cartography.  “Why am I doing this?” “Is it even worth it to continue?” “Why is no one here to help me?” “Where am I actually headed?” I’ve long sought to teach the chickadees that there is a great difference between desire and purpose and that is normal and acceptable to question. Doing what we want to do  is incredibly different than doing what we are called to do. For small humans, it is remarkably easy to redirect the want for the should. It might have taken some extra persuasion, but generally those beautiful, big, soulful eyes showed agreement and little hands slipped inside of mine and we fairly easily continued down a path. They grew, and heels d...

Last night, something miraculous occurred. The phone rang. I answered. In the scope of the everyday ordinary it doesn’t sound like much, the act of seeing a call and accepting it instead of sending it to voicemail. She didn’t want to do anything but talk. Have conversation. Fellowship with me over cellular airwaves.  I answered because outside of immediate family, hers is the number set to bypass do not disturb. The phone knows that outside of regular hours, I’ve let her in.  I think she knows it too. She didn’t call for anything in particular; she was on her way home with an occupied babe in the backseat and had an hour.  She called me. I answered. We talked for the remainder of her trip. The big chick and the professor tried to find a movie to watch and wandered in wondering where I was and when I was coming back. Her little bit was occupied in the car seat and didn’t make a peep. I told them to go ahead without me. She let the golden haired angel watch the coveted tabl...