I never tire of seeing the azure blue of the Eastern Bluebird. Its blue head, back and wings are a contrast to its rusty brown chest. As songbirds extraordinaire, they are not only a delight to see but a wonder to hear.
When my best friend unexpectedly died, I found myself reeling from the impact. We had activities planned that suddenly fell off my calendar. When her daughter, Suzy, suggested the she and I continue the plan to shop First Monday Trade Days in Canton, Texas, I said yes, even though my heart wasn’t fully engaged. We both hoped the adventure would lighten our souls.
About half way through a day of shopping, Suzy and I became separated and without clear phone signal, we weren’t able to find one other. Knowing what a maze the flea market could be, we were grateful we’d already made a Plan B in case this very thing happened.
I wandered for a while and then returned to the car where I expected my friend would appear at the previously designated time. Because she had driven, I didn’t have a key. After leaning on the car for an hour, I grew weary. I sat down on the red sandy East Texas soil in the shade provided by the car.
Sitting cross-legged, alone and still, it was easy to dwell on the fact that my best friend wasn’t with me and wouldn’t be again. As a tear slid down my cheek, an Eastern Bluebird appeared about a foot from my left knee. It tweeted a happy song, looked at me and then flitted around my knee for a minute before flying away.
In 1 King 17:6, ravens fed Elijah during a time of drought. When God brought this tiny bird to me during my time of drought, my spirit was fed and my heart was encouraged.
Within a short time, Suzy appeared in order to empty her first round of packages in the car. We continued our day with me a bit giddy from my Elijah experience.
Have you had an Elijah experience? Please comment below with your story.