Watch a bird. It jumps from a limb and flies. And they essentially have one speed. Fast. Watch the bird race between buildings, among branches, blown against the win and you wonder how the bird can have any idea where he will land. But they always seem to find another branch to land on. That’s what you call faith and confidence. It is what birds do.
When I was a boy I often brought animals we kept in the classroom home to watch over the holidays. One day when my family returned after being away — probably a party, we never went shopping as kids — I found the hamster cage open. Panic was the only reasonable response for very young boy. I panicked. I panicked until I saw the two hamsters sitting only inches outside the open cage door and the third still in the cage peacefully munching carrots and corn.
That’s what you call security of another kind. The cage.
I catch myself thinking about this often, recently more often than not. I can only draw conclusions about faith and security when thinking about animals if I have some sense of what that means for me, a person. Then I wonder…am I too much hamster or too little hamster; too much bird, not enough bird? Can I choose?
So I wonder, too, if I found the cage door open, would I fly away or stay inside and peacefully munch away?
- Tips for a happy, healthy hamster (shoppingdivas.com)
- Ideas that don’t Sing (thesubwayspoet.wordpress.com)