A Special Companion

In June of 2001, only a few weeks before I was to leave with the Lakota Mission team for Pine Ridge, S.D., I became quite ill. For a time, doctors debated whether I could still make the trip. But soon, with dangerously abnormal blood counts and with increasing pain, it was evident that I would not be able to go on the mission.

On the very day that the team was flying west, I was in the first of two surgeries to correct what ailed me. For the 14 days the team was away, I spent much of my time recuperating on the sofa of our family room. I had few distractions. My eyes couldn't handle reading, or even watching television. And all those projects that have awaited me all these years - little projects like photo albums and BIG projects like writing a book - were too much to tackle with my lingering pain and vastly reduced energy.

And so, I was quiet on the sofa. I rested. However, in the quiet, I became aware of the chirp of a bird. Investigating, I saw a female cardinal nested in the rhododendron bush just outside the window of the family room. For the next 14 days, the entire time the team was away, she sang and sat there. July of 2001 was perhaps the wettest ever - it rained and rained. But "my" cardinal stayed put, a constant companion. She was my cheer-er. She was my connection to the Lakota team and those who were praying so earnestly for me. She was my visible sign of the invisible presence of Jesus - companioning me through harder times, grounding me in all for which I am thankful.

The last members of the Lakota team returned by church van on Sunday night, July 8. When I arose Monday morning, my cardinal had gone. There were no signs of eggs, or of babies. She came and stayed for just the time I needed her most.

Ephesians says that in Him we find redemption and forgiveness and grace. And how He companions us in the process!

— Marilyn Dukes Bursch

Courtesy of The Church of the Good Shepherd United Methodist