There’s one thing I know for sure: moments of grace appear in my life exactly when I need them. Some are completely unexpected and rather spectacular (my husband), while others slip in gently, as if content to go unnoticed.
A recurring phenomenon is the appearance of feathers in my world. It’s become quite an anomaly, really; feathers appear at times when I need a gentle reminder that I am a child of God, that the universe has my back. That I am loved. (There are many amazing examples, dating back several years, and I’ve decided to chronicle them here on this blog.)
My daughter began her freshman year in college just two weeks ago. On the second day after dropping her off (and coming home without her), I found myself in deep mourning for the dramatic change taking place in my life. It was an emotion that caught me by by surprise—and after inexhaustible tears, I offered a deep and soulful prayer for help making my way out of the deep emptiness I felt. I awoke the next morning to find this scene just out my kitchen window, in the pond behind our house.
What on earth is that, I thought, taking another sip of my coffee. I threw on some clothes, grabbed my camera, and headed across our damp yard to investigate. Is that… Surely it’s not… Can it be…
It took a moment to catch my breath. One feather, and then another, and then another, in every direction, as far as I could see.
The tears began to flow again. But they were different—these tears were filled with relief and joy and promise. And so I offered one more deep and soulful prayer.
This time, it was a prayer of gratitude.