Prism

11/8/09…What compels me to step outside my house? I do not know. At 8am, the morning is waking up. I look outside and my soul feels like I am looking through cell bars. I am trapped inside a prison of my own making, one which I thought God was guiding me to but one that I now realize was dictated by my own free will. Like a caged hummingbird, my wings of my mind constantly flutter with thoughts of longing and lost hope. And yet…and yet if I quiet the stillness of my mind, there continues to be one thought of hope, one which is barely hanging on by a loose thread.

My relationship with God is broken. I find it hard to believe I could be in this place of devastation because that is what it is when the soul has no more hope, only devastation. Yes, I say devastation because that is what happens. The self begins to self-destruct into behaviors and thoughts and actions that further sever the relationship with God and others. The fruit on the tree is now showing signs of rotting. And yet…and yet there remains one lone piece of fruit on the entire tree that is not engulfed by rottenness. This one piece of fresh fruit is hanging on by a delicate branch. It hangs in the balance on the vine of the tree that created it. For some reason the tree has not let it go. It is as if it is saving this one lone piece of fruit. For a moment, can you picture a lone tree on a hill with the sight of fruit rotting on all its branches? Can you smell the stench as you approach? And just when you are ready to turn away, you spot this one piece of fresh fruit. Now that you can picture this, do you realize how easy it would be for someone to come by and pick it and eat it. The tree is strong, yes, but free will permits this possibility to occur.

So I am now sitting outside on my porch looking out towards a forest in the distance. I see the clouds before me silhouetting the blue morning sky. I can hear the sounds of birds tweeting. Slowly, the morning is waking up. I wonder to myself what compelled me to step outside my house on this particular morning. Rarely do I do this. Lately it has been too cold.

As the caged hummingbird is sitting down, its thoughts bring tears to its eyes. They are tears of sorrow to God and they are tears of pain. The isolation is too much. To trap a bird in a cage has got to be one of the most inhumane things to do to a creation of God that is meant to fly. But this is what others seem to want. Clip its wings and let it die from lost hope. Let it become a creature that eventually convinces itself it is comfortable here in this cage. It has food, it has water, and it has someone cleaning out its mess every day.

But deep down the hummingbird knows better and even though it suppresses it, there remains a thread of hope and there remains a lone piece of fresh fruit…one that is ready to drop with its seeds and sprout a new fruit tree.

As I look up to the left of me, my eyes widen and my mouth opens. There has been no rain for 7 days. The grass is dry and the air is drier. But unmistakably I see a prism appearing in the sky. It was not there just 4 minutes ago. Is this God? In the morning sky there is a lone wisp of a cloud that is not even a fully formed cloud. It looks almost like a circle of smoke and it is so transparent you can see the blue sky on the other side. In the middle of the vast blue sky where no rain has existed for 7 days, a prism appears within this lone cloud. It is not a rainbow, it is a prism. I see the red and I see the yellow and I see the traces of blue and purple. The prism just hangs there. I can’t look away because my eyes will not allow me. It is so…beautiful. And just as quickly as it appeared, it is just as quickly gone. In fact, if I had not looked to my left when I did, I would have missed it. If I had not sat down on my porch at 8:03 am or looked up at 8:07 am, I would never have seen it. Again I wonder what compelled me to go outside and into nature. What compelled me to look outside of the caged bars…and look up? I have seen many rainbows in my life but in my 42 years I have never seen this before, a small slice of a rainbow appearing in the middle of an almost cloudless sky.

My faith use to be so strong I would have had no doubt this was God connecting in a way only He could connect…speaking to me in the depths of my soul in only a way He would know how and giving me hope. But now, I am not so sure anymore.

But…and I say but, but somewhere deep down, the hummingbird can’t help but hope that it was…