©Jeanne E Webster
1If it had not been Jehovah who was on our side,
Let Israel now say,
2If it had not been Jehovah who was on our side,
When men rose up against us;
3Then they had swallowed us up alive,
When their wrath was kindled against us;
4Then the waters had overwhelmed us,
The stream had gone over our soul;
5Then the proud waters had gone over our soul.
6Blessed be Jehovah,
Who hath not given us as a prey to their teeth.
7Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers:
The snare is broken, and we are escaped.
8Our help is in the name of Jehovah,
Who made heaven and earth.
Night was over; an uneasy dawn crept in the bedroom window. I stirred, shuffling the covers over me, trying to feel that warm snuggly feeling one more moment before I rose to a new day. I needed the warm and fuzzy. Months had come and gone since I had sensed my “safe room.” My soul limply clung to memories, recalls of known, tried-and-true sharing with my heavenly Father. Where had they gone?
An ominous presence had staked out my habitual trails, smearing the pathway thoroughly like a dense smudge pot cloud. My outgoing attitude had changed into defensive warfare, a struggle to survive. Something had changed, as if I had been hung out to dry. Small and large satanic darts found their targets on a daily basis, and I was becoming sore and weary. Where were the days of yore?
My spirit resolved to endure the onslaught, knowing beyond a doubt, “All is well with my soul.” I went about praying, asking my friends for prayers, praising God, reassuring my spirit with those familiar Words of Life in the Good Book. I knew, yes, I knew this would pass. I just needed to hang in there on the promises of God and let Him do His work in me. And He did.
After rising from a good night’s sleep, I greeted my husband in the kitchen for breakfast. As we prepared the toast and coffee pot, I glanced out the window at the humming-bird feeder and took a second look with awesome wonder. Behind the feeder, sheltered from my view, was a golden bird’s tail hanging down. What?! I couldn’t speak. I pinched my husband shirt and mumbled, “Mmmm ooofff!” He turned and peered at my focal point. Yikes! It was a Baltimore oriole! Our first up-close look at one. In that split second the bird walked around the feeder and offered a full front look. He walked around the red bottle, tapping on the holes to the sweet nectar but having no success. In a few moments he was gone.
What a treat, a super blessing…and a cloud breaker! Thank you, Lord. He hadn’t used the grey-speckled wings of a dove to break the ominous spell; it was a beautiful yellow oriole. We were both instantly transformed at this splendid sight, within a foot from our eyes. I could feel the positive influx into the air as it discharged the negative ions. After breakfast we went straight to the oriole feeder on hand but never used, filling it with orange nectar. I read in the bird book that orioles only eat very early in the morning and after 9 or 10, they have finished their daily feeding.
As we were hanging the feeder in front of the kitchen window near the humming-bird feeder, I noticed a pair of wild turkeys off in the distance shuffling along the ridge. My husband had never seen them in that area before. To top off the morning, a pair of Canadian geese flew over the house, honking all the way. Oh, what a wonder spell breaker! The morning of the birds! Praise be to God! Amen.