Catching Wind

As I settled in against the rock face, I felt ecstatic about finally finding the perfect spot. Below me, the interstate curved through the trees, the cars swiftly moving along it, looking like an electric car set from childhood. The sun streamed through the tree above me. Thousands of little lady bugs crawled on the rocks, steadily marching toward their destination or sitting placidly in the shade. Suddenly, I was startled by a loud crack from above, like the snap of a belt or the catch of a flag caught in a gust. I instinctively ducked and my heart nearly leaped out of my chest as a shadow passed over me. I glanced up and noticed a hawk float on the breeze above me, fly in an arc and then settle back on the pinnacle. Without hesitation he darted off the edge of the rock again and caught the breeze, the snap of the wind catching his wings and holding him aloft. He splayed his feathers and pumped his wings periodically as he scoured the land below.


Recently, my friend and her husband adopted a son from eastern Europe. When she first told our little group of friends, her first words were, "You all are going to think I'm crazy." She was so excited about her idea to adopt that she could hardly see straight. Her husband was coming around, and her kids were excited about the idea, too. The major hang up? she had to fly to go pick him up. Nothing scared her as much as the idea of being on a plane for seven hours to get her child.


The months ticked by, and they worked to fill out the tedious paperwork and undergo a series of home visits. Then they had to fill out the paperwork again. At each step in the process, her major fear still remained: the flight. We joked about it with her and told her to take some good drugs to knock her out.


When the announcement came that it was time, she and her husband packed up and made their last arrangements for the home front. Then, she got on that plane and flew. The whole seven hours. She didn't parachute out or anything--she arrived. They stayed in a little apartment in a country where they didn't know the language. They couldn't drink the water, not even that in brewed coffee. She couldn't wear her favorite bright green coat, either. And after a series of what one could call lucky breaks or divine intervention (she leans toward the latter), they had their new son with them in record time. She made the flight home without a hitch, too--I know, because I had the privilege of meeting them at the airport. She was alert and in one piece, holding the hand of her new son who stood shyly beside her.


My friend has inspired me. She had an idea, a hope, a calling, and went for it--obeyed it--with all her heart. She certainly had her fears and her obstacles, but that did not deter her. Now she says it's like her son has always been with them. Don't get me wrong--they're still working through adjustments and figuring out the new normal for daily life. But like that bird, she took a soaring leap off that cliff and caught the Wind. And It carried her.


Just imagine how much easier it must be to catch the wind after we've experienced it once...