They both have wings.

You would think that’s the end of it, right? Their similarities, I mean. That just about covers it.

Not so fast.

I have to say that though I have never seen an angel (that I know of), hawks must be a kindred spirit.

From knowledge gleaned, angels are not human. They are beautiful. They are fiercely strong and vigilant guardians. And they are messengers of hope, or of despair. They are deliverers of news and are guideposts for the forlorn.

I was made to see these same traits in hawks. Hawks are not human. They are beautiful, in a fierce sort of way. They are strong, vigilant, and bring a message in the way they cry out. This cry could be a warning, or it could be a shout of sheer pleasure at having the ability to fly freely above the trees. It could be a cry of joy, a hosannah, if you will.

I have to tell you that many things have been plaguing my mind, of late. People will say, “I have a lot on my plate.” Well, I feel that mine has been heaped to overflowing in the last two years. Lots of running, lots of striving, lots of appointments, and not just for me. There have been lots of attempts to fix what is utterly broken.

So, I have been feeling quite alone.

The Spirit must have known this, must have seen that this week in particular, I needed some sign, some nod from above that says, “We see you. You are never alone.”

On Friday, I went to work in a foul kind of mood. Not grumpy, not mean, just down-in-the-dumps and ready to slog through the day because I knew I would not be able to keep my attention on the tasks at hand. I had been thinking a lot about my family, my health, and the sickness of a very dear family member. I had been told I probably would not see my grandson this weekend either, which was something I had been desperately trying to arrange for a month. I felt beaten, and the heavens opened, sending cold, hard, pelting rain. I walked from my car to the building, and as if God had cued it, this fantastic hawk took off into the sky from a nearby tree. It sailed just above me, right along my path across the parking lot. This beautiful bird let out two piercing cries. It didn’t mind the rain, and it seemed to say that I shouldn’t mind it either. I stopped in the downpour and gazed upward, in awe of its beauty and perseverance. Thank you, God, I whispered.

On Sunday, I picked up my grandson who is not yet two, and not very verbal. He loves to be outside. I bundled him into his coat, and we walked through the yard to the swing set. He and the dog and I had a good few minutes just enjoying the brisk air, the bright blue sky, and the time to be together. I pushed him in his swing, and he laughed. As we continued, his laughing changed to simple enjoyment. I could see that he relished the wind in his face, this time of joyful movement. Peaceful bliss.

I suddenly felt this pang of loneliness for my son who was on military deployment, and for my other children. These feelings come and go since my kids have flown the coop. I see my grandson once a month, and my children are far away from me at this time in life. This sadness filled my lungs, and I wanted to let tears fall in my melancholia. The mood threatened to ruin a perfect moment of happiness with my grandson, who was oblivious to my hurts. As he was swinging, he kept a contented smile.

Just above us, I noticed a hawk riding the breeze with the same kind of joy. He cried out in delight, and his wings hung broadly on the air with such ease. The hawk’s call somehow comforted me that we were not alone. The call was insulating and reminded me of the beauty and purpose of nature. Even the rocks and the trees will cry out to praise God if we don’t! (Luke 19:40)

Tuesday came quickly, and I had a major drive ahead of me. I rose early, awakened my grandson, changed him, fed him, and packed up the car. I drove two and a half hours to return him, then began my lone journey to my parents’ home eleven hours away. I would make the trip solo, as I had decided to see my grandson before leaving. This meant that my extended family members had already left without me. My children were unavailable, and my husband chose to stay home. Driving cross-country alone is never a favorite, and my mood faltered. I don’t like complaining or feeling sad that I am alone, but it happens a lot these days.

Once again, on cue, a huge bird of prey launched itself from a branch above my moving car. Yet another hawk in my path. Its wings flapped and then spread out into the wind to glide freely above and beside my vehicle. He hovered and called out. That fierce cry came out of his soul and into my ears. This didn’t feel like a warning; it felt like God sent the hawk to remind me that I would not be alone on this trip. It held its spot right beside my car and escorted me for what seemed like more than a minute. What a delight. How fantastic are the creatures of The Universe, and how lovely was this reminder that God is always with me, even (and especially) in the low moments.

It is my practice to see life’s synchronicities as non-accidental, as purposeful. And I suggest that if you stop, review, think, and write down these small synchronous happenings, you can see the message and the hope that I see.

The hawks tell me that I am not alone. I cannot give up. (2 Corinthians 4: 16-18). –“So we’re not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace. These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There’s far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can’t see now will last forever.” (The Message version.)

I think Antoine de Saint Exupèry paraphrased this piece of Biblical wisdom in his philosophical masterpiece, The Little Prince. The Prince’s friend, the Fox, gives wise counsel: “And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

I’ll be hoping for another hawk in the upcoming days. God knows I need the encouragement!