Fly away home

My screened-in porch was so pretty after the snowstorm this weekend. It faces the woods behind our house, which were beautiful in the snow, and it looked as if a giant confectioner had sprinkled powdered sugar on it.

But as I stood gazing out at the porch, something unusual caught my eye. Do you see it?

I'm not sure how this little visitor got inside, but by the time I noticed him, he was eager to leave. My heart broke for him as I watched him nervously flit from one surface

to another.

I stepped out onto the porch to open the door to freedom for him, but my presence really panicked him. He flew desperately from screen to screen. It was as if he were trapped in a giant cage. I finally propped the door open, then went back inside the house. I stood at the door watching him try to escape, imagining his frustration. He had wings! He could fly! But he couldn't get out of the trap. Finally I left, hoping that he would eventually discover the way out. The next morning he was gone, and I was so relieved that he had made his escape.

As I looked at the photos I had snapped of him, I couldn't help but think of how often I've felt trapped in situations--usually of my own making--desperate to get out, but unable to find the way. But there is always a way.

Jesus. Jesus is the way out. "I am the way, the truth, and the life," He says (John 14:6). And I've found that to be the truth.

Just like in the words of the old hymn--have you heard it?

Flee as a bird to your mountain,
Thou who art weary of sin,
Go to the clear flowing fountain
Where you may wash and be clean.
Fly, for the avenger is near thee,
Call, and the Savior will hear thee.
He on his bosom will bear thee,
Oh, thou who art weary of sin.

He will protect thee forever,
Wipe every falling tear;
He will forsake thee, oh never--
Sheltered so tenderly there.
Haste then! The hours are flying--
Spend not the moments in sighing.
Cease from your sorrow and crying:
The Savior will wipe every tear.

--Mary S. B. Dana