How is it possible to be uninterested in a hummingbird? Their speed of flight which must be one of their greatest defenses, the way that they hover and can fly in any direction quicker than the eye can see them come or leave, their iridescent colors that glimmer in the sunlight, their need to eat nectar and insects nearly constantly to maintain such acrobatic energy levels, their ability to go into a torpid state at night if the temperatures go too low while they can’t eat, their diminutive size as compared to their outright boldness, their claim to territories even if they have to mob other birds gigantic in size when compared to them, their eggs that are smaller than an m&m candy, their nests woven of elastic spider webs and mosses that expand with the rapid growing sword billed chicks, and their outright fearlessness over the presence of a person near their feeding place—all of these things, and so much more make them astonishing wonders of the Lord’s creatively speaking voice. I often wonder how Adam could actually choose a name for such a marvel (“…and whatever the man called a living creature, that was its name.” Genesis 2:19)!

In San Diego we have the Anna’s Hummingbirds, with their crimson red markings, that stay with us year-round. They are a delight in all seasons. I have watched them puff up at our feeder even in the windiest winter storm coveting the vital sugar water that is provided on our porch. In the ease of summer they come like a brilliantly lit-up Christmas decoration out of season. I am familiar with their sounds and behaviors, but always curiously excited over their antics.

The picture posted here though is of the autumnal orange Rufous Hummingbird—the first that I’ve spotted in several years. We really have to watch for them because their visits are so brief as they are only passing through on the longest migration route of any hummingbird, from southern Alaska to southern Mexico. They are 3.75 inches long with a wingspan of 4.5 inches—a mystery of flight with their unimaginable 12,000-mile round-trip migration.

I am not at all accustomed to the Rufous’ behavior since I see them so rarely, but I do know easily when they arrive on the porch. The sound of their widely spread wings is like the roar of a motorcycle that appears alongside in traffic, seemingly out of nowhere. Even though the Anna’s are twice their size they can immediately chase them from the feeder with the sheer force of their superb flight. Nothing will stop them in getting the nourishment needed for the unbelievably long trip. I look at them and I am amazed at their monumentally determined behavior. They are, indeed, little to our eyes. But I really think that for this kind of tenacity they must find themselves to be giants, perhaps measuring against a gnat, or a piece of pollen on the wind.

I really like the curious story of the amazing Rufous, and I’m drawn by what it means to me spiritually. Within we can have the power of the Holy Spirit, and I have witnessed miracles of such broad proportions to my small woman-sized dimensions ever since He came to live within my heart. I also know that Jesus said: “…I say to you, if you have faith as a mustard seed, you shall say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it shall move; and nothing shall be impossible to you.” Matthew 17:20

For me, the rare visitation of the fiery Rufous makes him my mustard seed reminder in my faith. I can become a great flier on the whirring and most skilled wings of the Holy Spirit--hovering, or dashing with lightning speed as He guides. I can ingeniously construct nests of protection for the little ones by His instructions. The nectar for the serious energy to persevere for the longest journey is the Communion of Christ, in His broken body and His blood shed for me. And I can be fearless because He tells me in 1 Samuel 17:47 that the battle is the Lord’s. And what about the colors of his love for me—dazzling in the Light of His Son!

Blessed preposterous flight dear Rufous! My faith flies along with you on Holy Spirit wings.