A bird in the hand...literally
This morning is a gray, cloudy morning. One the birds really love. There are sparrows and finches fluttering about our whole yard. They seem to be looking for worms, left over seeds from our harvest and whatever else they may find. I was heading out the front door to the trash can with an arm full of trash. I stepped off my step only to come up to a little sparrow just sitting there looking at me. I was surprised because I know how skittish birds are, especially with movement. This little one didn't seem fazed by my presence. I put down my trash and stooped down to get a better look at him. He wasn't hurt, seemed bright eyed-though maybe a little sleepy. I sat there and talked to him and decided to see if I could get closer. I was able to touch him without him reacting. I started to pick him up and he flew onto my arm instead. He sat there looking at me and I decided to take him to where the rest of the birds were. I was able to pet him, scratch his head (as most birds like) and talk to him. We walked toward the garden where he decided it was time to fly. He flew to the garage window and I could see he was quite a bit smaller then the others. I went to retrieve him again and he stepped onto my hand then gently flew to the butterfly bush with the others. This must be how the Saints felt when they were able to be at peace with even the wild animals. No fear from the animals and only peace from the human. It was a moment that made me smile and appreciate the moments that God allows us to revel in. Amongst the spiritual dry desert that I have been traversing, a little sparrow came and gave me a moment of refreshment. As I'm writing this, the verse came to me about God not even forgetting the sparrows, how He even knows when one falls from the sky. Aren't we more valuable to Him then them? There is a lesson in there for me somewhere. For right now though, I will enjoy the moment of being so close to something so pure and innocent in a world that feels like it is spiraling out of control.