What if we were like him somehow?

That bird gave me a hard time, and I was only trying to help him!
That morning, I found him flying close to the ceiling, stuck by the upper part of the stairway. There was a glass window high up on the wall, and this little guy was bumping his head on it, and falling to the floor. He would fly up to the window, hit his head, fall, then redo it all over and over. Baby bird could clearly see outside through the glass, but in fact, the only way for him to get outdoors didn’t involve that window at all. It was sealed, that bird needed to get over his stubborn (low-key suicidal) plan. So I decided to help him out.
When he saw me approaching, he totally freaked out! Our little guy went crashing himself even harder against the glass. I tried all I could to appease him. Smh, you should hear me talking to that bird, and trying to catch him (and reason with him)! But all my gymnastic efforts and the good motivation of my heart were not yielding results. At that point, he was totally controlled by fear, acting the craziest to avoid me, yet still going to hurt his little self on repeat against the glass.
The first time I caught that bird on the floor, I’ll let you imagine how he kept battling his way out of my hands! As I was figuring out how to deal with that little body and these violent little wings, next thing I knew: my hands were just holding onto a bunch of his tail feathers… Actually, all of them🫥. He had already escaped and was crashing himself just everywhere on the wall at that point. That was painful to see, but at the same time, honestly I was getting annoyed too. That bird was insane! All I wanted was to help him; but there we were, both struggling and feeling worse than we should have. (Of course I was fighting a bit of guilt over his tail, but was it really my fault?)
His fear had a stronger grip on him than I had!

And okay, it was understandable. I mean, how could he know that I was not going to fry him after all? Fear was expected in such a situation from a bird’s perspective! But on my side, as the one who could positively intervene in his case and help, since I knew about the reality of the glass blocking the only possible way that he could see, -although not being able to see it, didn’t prevent him from getting hurt big time by it-, since I also knew the way out based on the context of the whole house, and since I knew my intentions, it would have been easier for both of us if he had just trusted me. From my position, his fear was totally unnecessary. But of course, he couldn’t know that, so I needed patience…
But well, let’s finish telling you the story. Eventually, our little friend crashed his head into the glass and fell on the ground one last time. He let me pick him up, too exhausted to do anything else than breathe. l secured him tight with both my hands that time because he was about to get agitated again. Then I walked the hallway as fast as I could. He significantly calmed down when we got outdoors, I could feel his pulse under my fingers. And there, I released him.
Maybe it was that uneasy way I felt every time I watched (and heard) him cracking his head against the window. Or maybe that horrible view of his entire tail left in my hands, while all I wanted to do was to help him. Anyway, for some reason, long after he was gone, I was still thinking about it all…

How many times, thinking we are protecting ourselves, do we end up making decisions that cause us more harm? What do we do when we feel the hurtful impact of an invisible glass in our way? Do we keep hitting ourselves on it? Or do we let it teach us to maybe stop and rethink the whole situation? Do we know when to allow some helping hands to take over the case on our behalf? How well do we welcome God’s interventions when they don’t come in familiar ways, and cost us our own plans? Do we operate out of fear when our path changes suddenly, or do we embrace life’s turns positively with faith?
The parallelism of dimensions/realities makes sense to me. Therefore, just like I had the bigger picture over the little bird’s situation, and just like it would have eased the process if he knew to trust and cooperate with me, the same way I believe that God has the bigger picture over our situations, and we would gain in time and well-being by trusting and cooperating with Him. From this, I also learned that trusting God doesn’t require my understanding. I still believe there will be some logic behind what He does, but His logic does not always have to make sense to me. God’s logic could be way beyond my little perspective, just like the path that I took to get that bird out was unimaginable to his little mind. Better yet, it could have even seemed to the bird that I was carrying him to an opposite end than the one he desired, when I took the opposite direction from that window… until we reached outside.
The more I pondered on that bird’s attitude, the more convinced I am now that it’s better to make peace with the dead-ends in life. To learn to pause and reconsider, out of certain pains. Sometimes, it’s simply not a battle, but just not the way out intended for us. It takes a humble and open mindset to stop forcing through these unbreakable glasses and gracefully embrace a change. Anyone who prays and recommends their path to Jesus should be able to trust His hands through life’s flow. God sees the bigger picture. He knows all these contexts around us that we cannot perceive and always has our best interest at heart. He can unexpectedly send people, seasons, new turns, abrupt changes and disguised opportunities in our lives to be real blessings to us.
I pray we discern. May fear, or stubbornness never cause us to miss them. #🐦
Amazing article! May God inspires you to write more.
In Him.
Thank you Rose-Laure❣️!