My Deepest Wells: Part 1 - Cardinal - Stories & Memories While Listening to Kacey Musgraves' Latest Album

When I saw the title of the first song on this album, I immediately recalled a memory of myself at 8 years old asking God for a sign. At church that previous Sunday morning our pastor challenged us to look for signs of God when we needed his presence or help. I took this challenge very seriously.

I remember sitting on the grassy hill in front of our house, cross-legged and pulling apart dandelions. I'd been thinking about it all day and now the sun was setting and it was almost time for dinner. And I hadn't picked out a sign from God.

I looked up and out towards the sunset, squinting my eyes to behold it. A fluttering shadow blurred my vision and caught me off guard. I followed the image as my eyes shifted focus. It was a cardinal.

And that became my sign. I thought to myself, "Whenever I see a cardinal I'll remember that I am not alone and God loves me." I felt a sense of hope and wonder wash fill me. And then doubt crept in.

"You never see cardinals though. What if you never see one again? Maybeyou need to pick something else. Maybe you should pick a blue-jay. Those are everywhere."

And that's what I did. I picked blue-jays, despite spending the last few moments of sunset arguing with myself over which bird would best represent the god I worshipped. What's funny however is every time I saw a blue-jay, I didn't feel comforted. I knew I'd chosen wrong. I'd doubted myself and now the appearance of a blue-jay felt meaningless and empty.

But, when I saw a cardinal, it really was right when I needed it. For 30 years the sudden appearance of cardinals fill me with comfort and hope. Like when a cardinal couple moved into the tree right next to our front porch right after my mom died. Every spring for four years they screamed at us to stay away from their nest. They would dive bomb us if we took too long to bring the groceries in or if we were mowing or weeding around the base of the tree.

I didn't mind though. Those were very hard years. My mother's death and my journey with grief were brutal. But, the love and committment of those cardinals comforted me. They were a team and they successfully raised quite a few babies up in that tree.

I don't believe in God anymore, but I do still love cardinals. I have cardinal decorations spattered about my house as little reminders that I am never alone and I am always loved. We live in a new house now and the tree they used to share was cut down by the new owner, but I hope that little couple found a new tree. I hope a great deal of things.

That's what the cardinals taught me. Hope. And when I heard "Cardinal" start up and I let those words wash over me, there I was again. 8 years old. Thinking about love and happiness and hope and making wishes on cardinals at sunset.