“Hope” is the thing with feathers That perches in the Soul –And sings the tune without words –And never stops — at all –

—Emily Dickinson

Could the red cardinal perched in the Cedar outside my window actually be the Angel Gabriel sent with a message for me? 

My dear departed friend Tallu believed seeing a cardinal was always a promising sign. 

During a strenuous worrisome season in my life, I started seeing these brilliantly colored red birds popping up everywhere I went. A redbird couple started frequenting my moss chapel bird feeder just outside my kitchen door. I keep it stocked with their favorite sunflower seeds. Many afternoons a redbird sentry would be waiting for me at the gatepost to our house. And then there is the redbird wonder who frequents the Cedar across from my writing desk window. What a gift his beautiful splash of red is brightening the grey blue sky of winter. Then I hear his whistling performance on the eve of spring. 

Unlike other birds who migrate to warmer places when the days become gloomy and the temperatures drop dismally in middle Tennessee, the Northern Cardinal braves the winter bite with the rest of us. They have a reputation among ornithologists as birds of endurance. I loved that they were named after the bishops of Rome clothed in their ornate scarlet robes and red Italian skull caps called zucchettos. 

Today, redbird sightings lift my spirit. Just when I reach a low point, a red bird shows up. God will do just about anything to keep hope in our breasts. 

Miraculously, the more I look for cardinals, the more I see them. The same is true when I pursue beauty and look for signs of hope. The Universe responds in kind. 

Like the bold cardinal you and I must embrace the life before us with steadfastness. The redbird whistles in winter, spring, summer and fall. Can we say the same about ourselves? We have to be so careful that in a dark situation or season we don’t downcast our eyes and miss God sending red flares to keep us carrying on. 

At a recent funeral a red cardinal made an angel-landing on the tombstone next to me as I gave the benediction. He stole the show, whistling his lovely hymn. That moment was somehow holier and hope-bearing. The family was convinced it was a sign from heaven. I have heard it said, “When a cardinal appears, an angel is near.” That day it felt especially true. Many of my parishioners have reported the appearance of cardinals after losing a loved one. Maybe the redbird  lives on the border of two worlds, heaven and earth. For me, the Red Cardinal is a reminder that God is always reaching out to us. 

On a blustery February afternoon on the way to pick up the kids from school, I did a double take from my window spotting a cluster of trees in a small yard populated with red cardinals. There must have been twenty of them perched in five different trees. On closer look, I discovered they were artificial, each hand-tied to individual leafless branches. I pulled into the driveway and the owner of the house came out to greet me. “May I help you?” she said, her white standard poodle standing at attention beside her. I said, “I noticed your red cardinal display. They are so joyful.” She smiled. “I started putting them in the trees in a dark season in my life. I needed a little extra encouragement. And now the neighborhood depends on them.” As I turned to get back in the car. She called after me. “Sometimes, you know, it’s just plain hard to be human. We need these “redbird” nudges to rise for the new day.” 

On March April 1, 2026, three astronauts made a historic mission to the moon. From 250,000 miles in space, the Artemis II team was shocked by the unfathomable, overwhelming black void of outer space. Hope came by looking out the spaceship window at Mother Earth, an unbelievable oasis of shining light and colorful life. God will never leave us in complete darkness, not on earth, in space, or in the chapel of our hearts. 

Stay alert because in God’s world the most ordinary moments can quickly turn holy. We live in a divine forcefield of signs and wonders. We are flesh and spirit “treasure hunters.” Every day a little bit of heaven can surprise us.