The Cage and The Songbird

I'm not sure why exactly, but growing up I would hear these words with a gentle pat, “Be sweet.” Most of the time it meant that I said something snarky or sarcastic, probably something terribly funny and honest with a bite. Either way, a gentle reminder was needed to “be sweet”. I think you naturally see certain traits in your children, I get that now I as soak in the gifts God has placed inside of my daughters. Mom loved that I was sweet spirited…most of the time. That was my natural bend. So when I was acting outside of a trait that suited me, I needed a reminder. But, just for a few seconds...maybe minutes, would it just be okay for me to be a little sour? I would think.

Weeks ago I needed a reminder to be sweet. But, I didn't want to feel that gentle pat when all I felt was soured disappointment. The sting of the battle wounds lingered for a few days until my tears dried up and my grieving was over. I'm not a fan of covering up things or hiding behind a mask in the hopes that people will think that I'm perfect. So, I'm honest with my emotions, even when it's ugly. I hold it in my hands asking God, "What do you want me to do with this?"

He reminded me of picture of an ornate birdcage, lovely to look at. The iron bars weaved a beautiful home for a songbird to sit and perch, singing a song for its master. The master loved the songs and the beautiful bird. Yet everyday looked the same for the songbird. The master would come to her gently placing the fresh water and food inside. No rain would ever ruffle her feathers. She was safe in her confinement, lacking nothing except for her freedom.

In this picture, the symbolism almost knocked me over. With multiple images to be drawn to, why did this one speak the most to me? It would take a few weeks for it to really sink in.

This cage, safe and contained, steel bars that trap, yet give the illusion of protection limiting the perspective of all that waits outside the locked door. Everything handed to you easily without the need of a song that sounds more like a cry. The nourishment measured out in proportions, today you will need this and today you will have it. And over time, the songbird's music doesn't sound as sweet. The caged bird can't sing a song of freedom; she's forgotten how and what freedom looks like. What once was a sweet song is now a cry. Soon, it will utter no sound. No song. No cry. Just something pretty to look at, but broken and muffled on the inside.

The image before me was this: the door was left open, the sweet songbird found her way out, and began to sing a different song. She sang the song of freedom, and it was sweet and lovely. It made you want to listen again, lean into as you soak in the softness of a moment when the song of freedom is remembered as it echoes in your heart...this is what freedom sounds like.

What is your cage? Is it other people’s expectations? Is it your fear of failure, but even worse, your fear of success? Is it the unknown and the trappings of familiarity that encase you, yet isolated you? Is it your past, your yesterday, your if-only?

All I know is a few weeks ago; I was a songbird with a broken wing because I just needed to spread my wings inside of a cage that couldn't contain me. The door was opened long ago, but from time to time I would fly back inside and perch for a while and take in my measured out proportion. But, God didn't call me to live a comfortable, contained, safe yet dull life. He called me to a life of freedom, so He nurses me back to health. He mends my broken wings and whispers the words of the song of freedom telling me to sing again. And it is sweet to Him because it is for Him. It is because of Him. He is the song I want to sing, the melody that I want to pen my life to. He is not afraid of my not-so-sweet moments. When I sing a song of the sour moments of life He erases those bitter, out of tune notes creating a symphony that feels like the sweetest embrace.

What does the song of freedom sound like?

It sounds like surrender.

It sounds like holding up your paper dreams in your hand and shredding them one by one until your hands are empty.

It sounds like the steady rhythm of the ready writer who has given the pen to God saying, “Here, why don't you re-write my story.”

He takes the pen, perhaps His eyes light up when He pens the words to your life's story. For He already knows the beginning and your ending. Even though the lines of heartache are never erased because we live in a broken world, He still writes a chart topping song that is worthy of singing.

He writes a silver screen story for you, His leading lady.

Take it from someone who has been there and lost her song. You cannot sing a song of freedom...until you first sing the song of surrender.

"It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." (Gal 5:1)

Let God take you there and mend your broken wings.

Much love to you all.