Fat Pheasants

A cohort of four scrawny cock pheasants pecked their way across the field just outside my window. Vibrant, rich plumage drew my admiration. How could anyone shoot such a creature?
Suddenly they grew nervous, one dashing ahead and the others scattering but remaining in a fairly tight group. They peered round warily and then resumed their pecking.
Two things on their pea brains, I thought. Eating and safety. Nearly spring though, when three things will occupy their thinking.
Later, washing up from breakfast, I noticed the usual visitor who comes daily to pick up the scraps dropped from the bird feeders on the Chinese Rowan tree. Nothing scrawny about him. He knows where to go to get fed and he goes there daily.
We all have a choice. We can peck around through the world's wisdom, getting the odd bit of nourishment but remaining spiritually scrawny. Or we can sit at God's table and fatten up on his word.