Consider the birds of the air. A meditation on "Being present".
“Consider the birds of the air”, says Jesus in Matthew 6. And in Matthew 10:29 “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.” This morning we found that one of our cockatiels, Holly, the hen bird, died during the night. We buried her respectfully and reverently, in sure and certain hope of the resurrection of the dead and raising to life eternal. Psalm 36: You, Lord, save both people and animals. Her mate, Glimfeather, is bereft. He’s singing to her, looking for her. This is the second mate he’s lost in his sixteen years. Last time, depression brought on physical illness, before introducing Holly restored him to health. So I’ve moved a small table into the verandah next to the aviary, and I’m typing from there so that we can see each other, and I can talk to him. And he can sing to me. Which illustrates a motif well known to chaplains, that of “being present”. Wouldn’t it be lovely if Glimmy spoke English (he sort