I heard somewhere that people believe that when you see certain types of birds that it is the spirit of your lost loved ones paying you a visit. Now, believing in heaven and it’s perfection, there’s no way that I really think anyone’s spirit would want anything but heaven and lots and lots and lots of Jesus. But, that being said, we have this gorgeous blue jay that has begun to call our yard his home. I know that my son isn’t actually visiting, but every time I see those stunning blue and grey feathers and the regality of this stoic bird’s movements, I can’t help but think of George Mason. It’s almost like God sent this sweet bird to wake my heart, just a little bit, each day. He comes and sits in the tree outside the kitchen window. It’s not that I need a reminder of my son because he’s never out of my mind, but to have such a beautiful piece of Gods creation place itself in my view everyday is a very sweet way to be reminded of George Mason’s life, not just his death. With each new morning, as this blue jay arrives, I’m reminded to say Thank You to the Good Father who loves me. Who protects me and sustains me, and deserves every ounce - and a whole lot more - of praise and glory I can muster.

This house has been a source of stress and pain over the last 6 months but it has also been a source of joy and a very tangible reason to dream about our future. It has allowed me a bit of space from the depths of my grief. It has provided relief and distraction from the sorrow of losing our son. It has presented me with options and reasons for dreaming about what our family might look like one day. That instead of being stuck in the picture I had always imagined, and then was ripped to shreds, I’ve been able to process life now that Adam and I are loss parents. The picture of our family won’t look anything like I had imagined it would, and there will always be a hole where George Mason should be, but because of a caring God who writes in even the tiniest of details in our stories, my heart is slowly mending. It will always have the scar from the heartbreak of losing my child, but it is being made new each day, ready to face the world and play my small part in God’s greater story.

I miss my son and I know that I won’t be reunited with him until heaven, but I’m reminded daily of how much I am loved by my Father in heaven. And that’s the greatest reason I can think of to shout from the rooftops. So for today, I’ll be thankful for a beautiful blue jay that reminds me of my son and the security of my Father’s love.

He will cover you with his pinions,

and under his wings you will find refuge;

his faithfulness is a shield and buckler. - Psalm 91:4