Pheasant or Buzzard?

I opened the curtains onto a new day, a new world, less soggy and drippy than yesterday, with the welcome sun making a comeback and smiling out of a blue sky. On the fence post next to the manure hill sat a big bird. I could only see its silhouette because of the position of the sun, so wasn’t sure if it had the colours of the pheasant which often warms its feet in the manure. 

I continued to watch, sure that pheasants don’t usually perch on fence posts, but neither do birds of prey usually come so close to our home. Still only a silhouette, the bird turned slightly and I was pretty sure I glimpsed a hook in that beak. Still unsure, I waited, eventually realising I would only really know what it was when it moved. So I opened the window, slightly startling the calm bird, and he looked my way (I think) and then dropped gracefully from the fence post, skimmed the ploughed field and rose to the height of the telephone pole to resume its reverie. A buzzard, not a pheasant.

People reveal who they really are only when they move, too. Jesus said his disciples would be known by their love. Love is a verb, and is revealed in action. We can claim all kinds of things, but the litmus test is who we are towards others, and how we show that.