I used to gather feathers as reminders that freedom was possible. Now I gather them selectively, with delight, from the life where freedom is already mine. Thank you, Jesus.

I found this nest on the ground with a broken blue jay egg beneath it. After the wind toppled it from the tree again, I brought it inside and made small clay blue bird eggs for it. A little nest, inhabited again. And now the feather sits among them. Brokenness is never the end of the story.