“For we are what God has made us, created... for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.”
—Ephesians 2:10 (NRSV)
In stillness, the red-winged blackbird looks like any other common creature: coal-dark, small, shaped as birds are shaped, tucked into the reeds and rendered nearly invisible. But then – ah – it lifts. Truth is revealed. A flash of crimson and gold ignites its wings like a flame withheld too long. In motion, secret truth is shared and becomes transformative.
I think of my mother when I see them. Her fire blazed—in wit, in perseverance, in the fierce way she pushed against a world that didn’t welcome a strong woman’s softness. She didn’t always know how to bless me, but she taught me how to burn. Within her complicated love was a force that shaped me, challenged me, and—perhaps more than anything—dared me to fly.
We live in a country where relationships are not just personal—they're political. Our national rhetoric echoes with the voices of those who cling to power by stoking fear of the “other,” who legislate against the vulnerable and wrap oppression in pious language. It’s tempting to stay quiet, to keep our beauty folded beneath us for safety.
But faith doesn’t invite us to steep in the self satisfaction of our unique gifts. Real liberating faith calls us to rise.
Ephesians tells us we are God's handiwork, created to live lives that reflect divine love. That's not just spiritual poetry; it is an ancient and everlasting call. Our true selves, when embraced and embodied, become acts of resistance against a culture that rewards conformity and punishes difference. When we live authentically, we honor the truth that all people are beloved. We become part of the redemptive fire.
So may we take flight—each in our way—burning with justice, beauty, and courage. May we name the harm and work to repair it. May we challenge inherited beliefs, even from those we love. And in doing so, may we create a legacy of love fierce enough to change the world.
Prayer
Holy Fire, Help me rise in truth, even when it costs me comfort. Let me celebrate the beauty You placed within me and others—especially those the world deems unworthy. May my life be a witness: to grace, to justice, to love that does not flinch. Amen.