A few years ago, my daughter called to say that she was going to the hospital, and I would soon be a granny. A yellow-billed cuckoo bird hit the window hard enough to knock himself out. I picked him up and put him beneath a bush, while memories of my childhood played through my mind. Lord, help me.

My mother was superstitious. She was convinced that a bird at the window was a harbinger of death. I knew the rare cuckoo bird hitting the window would leave no doubt in her mind, that someone was going to die. Why did this happen, Lord? Are You testing my faith?

I stood at a distance, and watched the bird slowly regain consciousness. I did not want him to be afraid, but fear was nagging me. I remembered all the times an owl’s voice had frightened Mama. I knew what she would say about a rare bird almost breaking its neck on the window. Why today, Lord?

Fear always sends me straight to God. I prayed for my daughter, my grandson, the bird, and my anxiety, as I watched the bird try to fly. He appeared to be drunk, so I continued praying. He flew into a tree, and he stayed there for a while. When he left, he flew in a straight line. Thank You, Lord.

My father was not superstitious in any form or fashion. Daddy taught me that believers are not lucky. They are blessed. If a black cat crossed the road, I did not need to turn around. I could walk beneath a ladder, but it was better to go around it. Breaking a mirror would not bring me bad luck for seven years.

He answered many questions about my mother’s beliefs and behaviors. Her superstitions were based on fear and ignorance, but they were rooted in mythologies handed down by her parents. Daddy was my anchor in that stormy childhood. Before I was an adult, he made sure that God took his place.

Last month, I found a barred owl’s feather in the yard. I thought of Mama, when I picked it up and displayed it with my flowers. My husband and I love to listen to the owls calling to each other in the evenings. We have several large birdbaths, and they come for water.

My father could call them up to the very tree he was sitting under. My sister and I were thrilled when that great horned owl would fly up, and “talk” to Daddy. He taught us about the stars, the wildlife around us, but especially about God and living beneath His wing.

I cherish all three of these legacies. He would be thrilled at how much his granddaughter and his great grandson love the Lord. Praise God! He helped me pass it on to them. It is my heart’s desire to pass it on to you, dear Reader. God is very good, and He is very real. Search for Him, as if your life depended on it.