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Broken Wings

Natasha Warwaruk | The Voice of Zion May 2023 - Column --

The Lord is in His temple.

Whiteness of the snow on this sunny day causes me to squint. Sunlight creates warmth on my cheek. I tilt my head to enjoy it. It is the time of year when winter yet holds on, not wanting to give up its place for spring. But certainly spring will come!

I drive my scooter down to the river where I can watch the water cascade over the pier. Pelicans swim about, searching for fish in the turbulence below. It feels good to sit and watch. A black bird catches my eye as it lands on the rocky shore. I’m pretty sure it’s a crow. I notice it’s hopping on one leg. The right claw is curled up, somehow deformed. I watch in fascination. You see, I suffer from an illness that has rendered my right limbs almost useless.

The bird nimbly hops rock to rock, making it look so easy! Is it searching for food? I wonder what has happened to it and how it has survived and adapted. I soon am endowed with watching a one-legged take-off as the bird stretches its wings and flies effortlessly to its next destination.

My child why are you standing outside the temple doors?

My desk taunts me as I reach over my computer screen to place my water bottle out of the way. There’s a minor crash and I tip my computer screen forward a bit to see what’s going on. My heart sinks a little when I see my Willow Tree angel, the one that has a bird ready for flight in its cupped hands. A wing has broken off the grey bird. I sigh and reassure myself that I can try glue it back on. It makes me think of another angel I have, one that stands at attention beside a picture and a poem. The picture is of my nephew who died in the first year of his life, and the poem relates of a miraculous happening that night. Well, somehow that angel’s wing had gotten broken too but is glued back together so well one doesn’t notice unless it’s closely examined.

There’s honey here and manna.

And as I’m pondering these broken wings, I think of a message I received from a fellow traveler on heaven’s way. “Greetings from my nest. God has to clip our wings for the purpose that we don’t fly so high. Your wings have been clipped with loving care and’s wonderful to be within the flock of God’s children.” We land, pausing in our flight. Nourishing rest is provided and feathers rustle close with contentment.

From day to arid darkness, oh, may I never leave.

I’m not sure if I’m writing this for myself or for you. Perhaps for both of us. Do you ever experience times when the spirit of God leaps in your heart? I think it must be for joy. Joy for being with other believers, sitting at the feet of Jesus, listening with rapt attention to what He has to tell us. That has been my experience at the recent winter services in Phoenix and then in the following week listening to the radio broadcasting programs.

Dear child of God: go to the gatherings of the believers. There God’s spirit of love, the gospel of the forgiveness of sins, miraculously heals our broken wings. Once again we can “trill with happiness and soar” (SHZ 564).

Italicized passages are from song of Zion 155.

Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh. – 2 Cor. 4:10

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