It was obviously morning, I could feel the warm sun shining on my face through the window. It felt good, but I dreaded opening my eyes. They opened slowly, as usual, dreading my first move. Pain was my morning greeter. It was this way most every day, some being worse than others. I said a prayer that my spinal stenosis pain would ease just a little so that I could enjoy the day, perhaps get a few things accomplished. With my ears focused on the singing birds, and my eyes focused on the morning light, I limped my way to the kitchen to tend to my furry and feathered friends.

The dogs got fresh water, the wild birds got fresh seed, then my attention turned to a HummZinger feeder that was cloudy and needed to be cleaned and refilled. It had rained a little the night before, and the rain polluted the nectar. We keep the screen out of our kitchen window so that I can reach these feeders from inside, making it easier for me if no one is around to help me. I cleaned, dried, and refilled the plastic flower feeders first, and was about to reach for the Hummzinger when I heard that familiar, tiny chirp. A female hummingbird proceeded to investigate the Hummzinger, but apparently her experience told her that she should use it from the bottom. I chuckled to myself as I watched her struggle to find an opening along the bottom. She continued to do so long enough for me to get my camera and return to the window.

I snapped several pictures as I giggled, then began to feel sorry for her. She simply did not seem to know how to use this feeder. Given the fact she had not tried to use the plastic flower feeders, I assumed she was one of the many hummingbirds accustomed to using real flowers, or perhaps a different style of feeder. She zipped up to my face and checked me out, then back out to the feeder for another try at the bottom of the feeder. It was at that point she came toward me with what seemed a purpose. This is the last picture I snapped before she came to me again.

She hovered around my face for about 30 seconds, then landed on my shoulder. Her tiny feet slid a bit on my nightgown as she tried to get a foothold, so I placed my finger in front of her feet so she could perch there. I wasn't concerned about her being inside, she was only a couple of feet from the window, and I knew that I could prevent her from going any further into the house if she did happen to try. I let her sit quietly on my finger for what seemed an eternity as I spoke to her softly, but was more like 40 seconds. I extended my arm toward the window and gently placed her onto one of the plastic flower feeders. She drank for several minutes, and seemed so content to have me watch her. She would sip, then look up and chirp, drink some more and chirp again. She was captivatingly beautiful. I finally snapped out of it enough to pick my camera back up and take more pictures.

I was in total awe of her. I've held hummingbirds on my finger before, and I've had them land on me before, but this was special. This felt like a gift from God, an answer to a prayer. It went beyond the thrill of having contact with this lovely little creature. My soul had been touched with a message. My pain, or lack thereof should not hamper my ability to enjoy each day God grants to me. I knew this before today, but the message struck me this time in a way that was life changing. As I processed this realization in my head, my tiny friend hovered once more in front of my face. The breeze from her rapidly beating wings made my bangs blow back, and I went almost cross eyed trying to focus on her. The strong morning sunlight came in from behind her and framed her. She looked just like an angel, the light making her wings appear transparent. She chirped softly and flew out of sight.

I cannot speak for everyone, but I feel that most of us get bogged down with our pain, our problems, our worries. We pray for cures and for solutions. God's answer may not come to us as one quick fix, but rather in the form of small blessings to make a difficult path easier to travel. In my case, it has come to me today in the form of a hummingbird that taught me that joy transcends pain, if we allow it to. Joy and relief is all around us, we just need to open our eyes.

-TJ