It Is Finished

Today I shipped the last of my orders from Itty Bitty Birdie Bites. All that's left is the inventory, changing the index page on my website, and a good cry. 8 years ago it was a germ of an idea, cheered on by bird-owning friends and acquaintances on the 'net, enthusiastic about the possibilities after offering my gourmet bird food-treats to their own birds.

It started in my kitchen after lots of prayer, just something to do while my husband worked nights, to kill at least a couple of lonely evenings each week. Before long, it was "killing" every lonely night, then the days. I added more products, each as well received as the ones before it, until I had more than a dozen. After a few short years I outgrew my space, and spent the next year planning the perfect custom kitchen in which to produce my creations.

Selling my home and moving my family to a more suitable home where I could build my "shop" as it came to be called, Itty Bitty Birdie Bites continued to grow and add products. By now I was selling through quality online vendors across the US, from Alaska to Florida and from Arizona to Virginia, plus Canada. I was shipping internationally on a regular basis. My lovely "shop" became my second home where I sometimes worked all day and half the night. It was my happy place, as my friend Roxanne noted.

Things were changing though. I developed arthritis in my spine which made the bending, lifting, and twisting painful...but not painful enough for me to give it up. No, I planned to continue making my food-treats forever. I gradually lost sight in one eye, totally skewing my depth perception which caused numerous cuts and burns to myself, as well as misjudging distances that left my expensive organic ingredients as well as the result of my hard work on the floor, and me in tears...

Then last fall something happened in my head. It looked like a stroke, acted like a stroke, and left me with a different brain and different abilities than I'd had before; those close to me see me as a different person than I was before. Doctors called it a "cerebrovascular event" (as opposed to a cerebrovascular accident - a true stroke) and told me that I'd be back to normal within 6 months. Meanwhile, I struggled with any processes involving math, analysis, organization, and multitasking - the very things required to do what I did. Added to my spinal pain and loss of vision, it became impossible to get through day-to-day operations, to do the things that previously I could have done in my sleep, let alone manage accounting and inventory. Mistakes and injuries became daily occurances...

In short, I had to accept the fact that I was no longer the same person I'd been in 2001, and I no longer had the abilities required to continue my dream. And so, as of May 31st, my doors are closed. I grieve when I go into my shop now, it's no longer my happy place because there are no dreams left there. I'm continuing one of my products only, until a friend can take it over - something that doesn't require cooking or cutting, and hopefully I can still do. I've already accepted that even this one product isn't mine anymore.

As a Christian, from the first I acknowledged God's leading in everything, and numerous - no, constant - acts of God as He guided me and I followed His lead. I never could have done this myself, and it has been my way to serve Him and, through my dealings with others, shine His light. I know that He's not going to let it all end here, that He has something else in His plans for my life and will reveal it in His time. And I will embrace the opportunity to serve the Savior I love so deeply. For now, I think He's giving me time to grieve, enveloped in His loving arms...