They are so tiny. Every colour is delicately drawn,
identifying one family of bird from another. Each one is absolutely perfect. A
smear of red on one breast; a stripe of blue or yellow, black or white, on tail
and wing and breast. Even the greys of the pigeons reveal the skill and joy of
the Designer. Details. No bird haphazardly formed. Every one made with love
according to the plan of the Maker.
I watch them darting round the peanuts, clinging on and
pecking out a few beakfulls before surrendering their perch to the next hungry
bird. Others dart below, along the ground, gathering the seed spilling out of
that feeder.
Every one different, yet every one related. They all have
feathers, bills or beaks, wings and tails and heads and feet. They all have
songs to sing, each according to its own kind.
Each is tiny. When one mistakenly flew into the house last
summer, she was easily caught in my cupped hands and carried back out to
freedom. Tiny, and yet the great Almighty God is aware of every feather that
falls from one of these precious creatures.
How much more he cares for us, in all our diversity. Our
different abilities, our different gifts, our different backgrounds and
ethnicities and languages and cultures. If only we could care for one another
with the same loving attentiveness, kindness and understanding.
Help us, Lord, to be more like you today.
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