The birds outside are singing, trilling the high notes, those creatures without a care in the world. They can't watch the news on the television, read the newspaper, stand in long lines at airport security, they chirp and fly above it all. Can I be a bird for five minutes? To drown out the chaotic noise with my own singing, deaf to the all the crazy madness running rampant in the world. Blind to the Presidential election and the man who sends chills down my spine and those guns that shoot all that maiming pain and belong off the streets, not here, not now, not ever.
The birds are singing and my minds trips over itself, working the puzzle, desperate for a concrete plan to fly for just five elongated minutes and then I hear the song over the radio. God sends down His presence in mysterious ways and I closed my thoughts, listened, super listened, a door gently opened and I peered inside. He's telling me what I already knew, what I've already practiced at stop lights, in a crowded grocery store, when I see the man on television.
Breathe, just breathe
Come and rest at My feet
And be, just be
Chaos calls but all you really need
Is to just breathe
And I practice it all over again, this breathing, as if I am a tiny sparrow nestled all warm in its mother's nest, opening its itty bitty eyes for the very first time. I take that elongated breath, scan the back yard. And exhaling joyous hope, I see it right clear. A perfect spot to hang a brand new bird feeder.
Welcome
