WHAT A SONG BIRD CAN TEACH ABOUT HEALING

The following article of mine was published in “Focus” for their May 16 – 26 edition. I hope you enjoy it. -Dave

Several years ago, I was in a staff meeting when a panicked song bird flew into our meeting room in. It flew from wall to wall. Then it tried to escape, and slammed itself into a closed window. It landed on the floor in a daze. As we approached, it flew to perch on one of our book shelves.

As we approached it flew to a perch on one of our bookshelves. All of our staff had watched these events happen before. We knew what the natural consequence would soon be if we did not intervene. This frantic bird would continue to bounce against walls and closed windows until it had killed itself. It’s only hope would be for our intervention. Gently and quietly our staff all left the room. Our numbers would just get the bird more frantic. Then we selected one of our own to enter the room and save the bird. Due to my gentle pastoral nature, I was selected to be the one to usher our sweet bird to safety. I quietly entered the room. I made no sudden movements, and tried to set the bird at ease. Then I slowly opened each window so the bird’s flight path to freedom was completely clear. Finally as the path to freedom was clear, I gently shooed the bird to freedom.

Our staff cheered as our treasured victim flew to its freedom. We had triumphed. Tragedy had been averted. Our experience, insight, and wisdom had overcome the confusion and fear which reigned in our sweet bird’s life. We had saved the bird.

Then as we watched our victorious victim fly to new heights, a kite swooped down upon him. With out a second thought the kite carried our precious triumph to a nearby tree and ate him.

We felt physically ill. While we had supposed that we knew what was best for the song bird we had neglected to look outside. The song bird had entered our office in a desperate escape from the kite hunting him. Then in our presumption of knowing what was best for the song bird we had simply become a tool in the hunter’s hands. We were had acted as the kite’s hunting dog instead of a preserver of life.

My three year old son Timothy listens to a song, “Stop, look, and listen.” It seems good advice for children. Before they act, they should stop, look, and listen. However, as we become adults our need to stop, look, and listen should not decrease. We tend to take pride in our education, age, and experience. We assume that we have all the answers for the world’s problems. Both my pastoral profession and kizungu heritage are some of the world’s worst offenders in being hunting dogs for kites.

What does it mean to be a healer of humanity? The first qualification is that we ourselves are wounded healers. Healing is not for those who have no wounds. The scars of life where ointment has been poured become our own marks of healing. Our wounds can not be open festering sores if we are to heal others. Festering wounds simply stink, and the infections of bitterness poison all who contact them. But a healed scar brings with it a story of divine grace and personal resilience. These marks are captivating and compelling.

Second, however we must guard against turning our story of healing into a simple paradigm that others can borrow and repeat. Each wound brings its own story. The event that caused it may share patterns with others or even be clinical, but yet it is unique. By making our story all of humanity’s we neutralize the miraculous grace of individual healings. Also, in our worst moments we may make a disastrous assumption that will lead to the further victimization of the innocent.

So what is the way forward when a frantic bird flies into our office? Stop, look, and listen. The first question must be the big one. Why are you here? What has led you to this place? In order to be able to help, we must first be willing to understand. This is consuming of both time and energy. It does not work well for a healer working a tight schedule with an agenda.

Then our place to be one of healing it must be one of safety. If only I had bothered to look outside the window when the song bird flew into my office, I would have seen the hunting kite. All would have made sense. Too many times we neglect to understand the depths of pain suffered by the victim. In simple platitudes and hurrying implement justice without providing protection, we only force the victim into another pattern of victimization.

Yes, when the song bird flew into my office, intervention was required. However, the intervention was not what I presumed. Instead my presumption did more damage than good. The wise words of a childhood song remind me of my most basic task as a healer – Stop, look, and listen.

P.S. You may also want to check out “The Christian Chronicle’s” article on President Kagame’s visit to Oklahoma Christian University.