The Wind under my Wings
Recently, I watched as some birds darted about, gliding through the air in rapturous joy, almost as if they were purposely putting on an air show for my benefit. Perhaps they were, for as I observed their antics, I noticed how drawn I was to envy their freedom to enjoy such liberty at will....everything in sight could be reached almost effortlessly, helped by the ebb and flow of wind currents--all they had to do was spread their wings and glide. And even when in the company of hundreds of other birds, they never once collided with one another.
Unfortunately, my "world" confines and limits me to walk among many other humans who do collide with one another. While birds may flit about in absolute freedom, so much of mankind wanders aimlessly about looking for rapturous joy, often trampling one another in their pursuit of it but at the same time overlooking or ignoring what already lies at their feet.
There is a bitter aftertaste to so much of the world's alluring and seductive thrills. Trapped in cascading river whirlpools like some rafter; the ride has turned into a swirling nightmare for which there is little hope of escape. Yet there is always hope in the darkest despair; for when I find myself discouraged and disheartened at such things in life, I can sit and learn lessons from this world that concern myself; lessons that will allow me to escape every chain that attempts to bind me. I do not need to look far to find them; for I am literally surrounded by them at all times if I choose to abide in His presence.
When I was in India this March doing mission work, I had two other ladies traveling with me; Melanie and Bess. One night Melanie had a dream, and the next morning she shared it with us as we opened our day in prayer and meeting with the Lord. In her dream she saw a building with five rooms, three rooms on the lower floor, and two on the second. As she walked inside, the three rooms on the ground floor were so crowded with people that she could not find any place for herself, so she went upstairs. There she entered the first room, but the view was not good. So she went into the last room, which was empty. As she described it, "It was absolutely gorgeous! such a lovely place, and the view was fantastic! You could see for miles, and outside were flowers and fields and streams. I could not understand why no one was occupying this room!"
After sharing the dream with Bess and myself, we prayed to the Lord for the interpretation. It came quickly: The lower three floors were jammed with people, sometimes colliding with one another...but the people there had chosen to remain on the earthly ground floor in the realm of the world, doing things the way of the world system in which they lived. Yet above them were two rooms. The first one, though it was apart from the earthly realm it had no view. Only the last room brought joy and beauty; for in that room one could see nothing but beauty and the view was fantastic! God was saying to us; don't choose to live your life in the earthly realm, for though it is crowded with others, it can bring no lasting joy. Come up! but don't stop at the first place you come to. Just leaving the crowd and running away from it to become like some hermit is not the answer: come into the room with the view, where a place has been prepared for you to meet with your Heavenly Father and enjoy His presence and to let Him show you things as He sees them, for they are always a delight and joy.
It is called the Secret place of the Most High God.
We may know about God, but only in His presence is "fullness of joy". There we find strength, understanding, peace and comfort. Yet it is our choice to remain among the crowded lower floors of our spiritual house, or to come up higher and stay in that special place until our view becomes His--when we see things as He sees them and know the wisdom and love He has for us in every detail of life. Having taken up residency there and made it our abode, we can then soar above this world with our Heavenly Father and come to know the same rapturous joy of our feathered friends.
Free as a bird...
MARY E. ADAMS