Life as a Feather

“Listen: there was once a king sitting on his throne. Around Him stood great and wonderfully beautiful columns ornamented with ivory, bearing the banners of the king with great honour. Then it pleased the king to raise a small feather from the ground, and he commanded it to fly. The feather flew, not because of anything in itself but because the air bore it along. 

Thus am I, a feather on the breath of God.”  

Hildegard von Birgen

That quote, “Thus am I, a feather on the breath of God,” stuck in my heart and mind and would not leave.  As you know by now, I am a sucker for a good visual so I had to have a feather. The longer I thought on it, the more excited I became.  I began to wonder about how my life would be different if I truly lived as a feather on the breath of God.  I loved the beauty and the imagery of a feather being effortlessly borne along to places unknown and totally free.  My whole blog was born out of a desire to give up control of my life and allow God to have control, so this fit perfectly.   It would definitely call for a study on submission.  The thought of being a slave to God’s will floated into my mind and sacrificing my agenda to be moved by God’s breath. More questions wafted into my mind like why am I so earth bound and how do I give up control?  These were all topics I wanted to check into. This might turn out to be a real adventure.

Of course, the first thing I needed was a feather.  I immediately hopped on Amazon.com and checked out the feather possibilities and found a wide selection from the simple to the exquisite.  I settled on a small unpretentious feather.  Since the idea of being “out of control” was the theme for my blog, I thought I would incorporate that with an ink well for my feather.  I placed an order and waited.  In our age of downloading everything I need from crochet patterns to books, actually waiting for my package to arrive via USPS was challenging.  Finally one day I came home and there on my front step was a small brown Amazon box.  The feather had arrived. I quickly took the box inside and opened it.  There was the simple gray feather I had ordered.  My flesh was immediately offended.  It was too plain, too simple for such a grand adventure. It was small and a little frayed at the bottom.  It was not even capable of writing on its own. The quill had been cut not to drink up ink and write, but rather to hold a nib.    The ink well was smaller than I had envisioned. It was clear glass with a thin metal cap.  It was totally unimpressive. My flesh said you deserve something better – something prettier, bigger, and capable of writing on its own.  You should look for a brilliant blue feather from one of the Blue Jays that eats at your bird feeder or a bright red Cardinal feather.  Or even better, maybe I should order a fluffy red ostrich feather that would gently swoop down as I wrote.

It was right then that I was hit with my first feather “aha” moment. (You would think being hit with a feather moment would be no big deal, but this one packed quite a wallop.) This is not about me but about the glory of God.  I quickly realized my simple gray feather was perfect.  Everything about it was perfect.  It was small and plain to remind me that I am nothing without Christ. It was incapable of drinking up ink and writing on its own.  I too am at God’s mercy to speak, write, or simply live.  The nib does not hold a lot of ink and reminds me of my constant need to immerse myself back in the Spirit.  I can write one or two words and then I need to dip once again in the ink well and soak up more ink before I continue.  So once again, I was excited about my simple gray feather pen and its small clear ink well.

Several months have gone by and I can report that being a feather is much harder than you would think and I have had several more “aha” moments.  I have found it difficult to wait for the breath of God to lift me and move me effortlessly through my day.  I get impatient and demanding.  I have found a host of things like anger, unforgiveness, and grumbling;  just to name a few, cause me to be more like an elephant than a feather. 

My feather has also taught me some lessons in humility. There have been times that I did wait and catch the breath of God and moved at His bidding to write a note, make a call, or help someone in need only to find myself proud as a peacock and strutting my little feather.   I found myself aggravated that I was not noticed, applauded, or recognized.  Back to my original “aha” moment that feathers know it is not about them.

Surrendering my will to the Lord’s will has not been easy either.  Words like absolute submission and unconditional obedience seem to ruffle this little feather.  Sometimes the breath of God comes at inconvenient times and takes me in directions I don’t want to go. 

My simple gray feather and clear unimpressive ink well sit on my desk today as a constant reminder.  I am the feather and God is the King.