It looked like a wren and I don’t know how it got into my writing cave. But the terrified little bird taught me an interesting lesson. I’d been hearing chirping and thought it was something on the computer. Then it seemed to come from the fireplace. Then panicky flitting about the room, banging off the windows.
I quickly removed screens from two windows and used one to try to guide the bird out. Needless to say, it avoided me like a giant snake. Then it flitted into the workout room. I hurried in there and did the same thing, hearing behind me all the research papers and index cards for my current novel fluttering to the floor in the cross breeze.
For several minutes the bird raced back and forth between rooms, desperately flinging itself at the windows I had not opened and ignoring the ones I had. The lesson should already be obvious. I was the key to this creature’s freedom. I meant it no harm. I provided four means of escape. And yet it continued to try all the other—closed—avenues.
Finally I guided it to the open window and thought I heard it chirp a swear word as it escaped. After all that, I think my pulse was higher than after my workout.
So now I’m back at the keyboard and my novel based on the life of the Apostle Paul, on the one hand happy to be back in my element and on the other banging against windows and sensing an open one is nearby. It’s as if I can hear a still small voice reminding me, “C’mon, dude, I’m trying to help.”
Jerry B. Jenkins is the author of more than 175 books, with sales of more than 70 million copies, including the best-selling Left Behind series. Visit him online.
Photo credit: Liz Noffsinger