Some years ago I remember a story being told by Chuck Swindoll about a bird, a small bird in a cage. This bird was all cleaned up, fluffed up in fact, set in his/her cage for safe keeping yet it had lost it's song! I heard this story and I must admit I identified with the poor thing. The point of the analogy was the likened experience to one's life by religion. I was there. The fluffy little cleaned up bird, but boxed in and without a song. It is amazing how God has enabled us to sometimes relate our own human experience with those from His extended creation.
There was an undoing in my life. The past had indeed gone. I was a new creation. However, in and through the process somehow I had evaded the essence of who I really am in Christ.
It had to have been six or seven years ago that I recall hearing that story and feeling the "spin cycle" and high dry setting of religion in my own life. More recently I have equated myself again to the bird species as a broken small bird, crushed, lame, unable to see, wounded, hindered and scarred. However in this likened image there was another greater one present. God Himself was seen as my covering. One who kept me in the shadow of His wings. I did not realize that in describing my experience in such form I was really saying. I am not healed, whole or able to fly on my own. There was a lot of vulnerability in this description or myself. In trying to recover, I suppose from the fluff of religion, I had taken on the "martyr" approach to life.
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