Mom is just about always right. She said, "You need a hobby."
Besides writing...because now I'm at the stage where the more I learn about writing, the less I know.
It's still a hobby, but one that requires full out energy and concentration.
As a mother, I need living things to nurture.
Nurture, an active verb, defines hobby for me.
Our large family seems to leap from one crisis to the next.
Perfectly functioning in dysfunction.
Only through GRACE.
We are mostly an allergic bunch. Cats, dogs, anything with fur.
Feathers are ok.
As a latch-key kid tromping through the orange groves of Plantation, Florida, I had my pets to greet me at the door after school.
One was a parakeet named Nelson. "Baby Face Nelson."
He began chirping as he heard my footsteps. He mimicked the kitchen cabinet creeking as I foraged for mini-wheats. Blue Nelson nuzzled my earlobes and played with my shiny earrings. He picked up cigarette butts out of the ashtray as he clomped atop our formica dinette. He said, "Pretty Bird," He was a companion.
In my home now, we've acquired 2 parakeets, "Spartan" and "Myra." Long story short, Spartan was lonely. He needed a female friend. So Myra fits the beak.
I am keeping finches for a friend who owns a boutique in our small town which she closes during the winter. The birds and their cage are sweet, charming, and fit right in her Garden Shoppe store with it's classical music, flowers, and home decor. The cage is as much a part of the appeal as the birds. Very shabby chic.
I want all this.
Eight birds dwell here now.
The finches names: "Spice, Flit, Fleck, SnowWhite, Braveheart, and Twitter."
I am drawn to helping a creature who needs me. I see a bit of God's grace waiting patiently in their wings.
I enjoy the conversation they sing everyday among each other. They work things out in their chirps and praises.
They chatter, hunt, and peck.
Like us, they wrestle with God.
In the meantime, my friend has promised me the babies. She is also helping me find the perfect cage. I look online and in antique stores everywhere. It has to be pretty. Yet, it's not all about me. "Finches gotta fly..." They need space to fly horizontally, mostly. A tall cylindrical shape is not the best. Flying up and down doesn't appeal to them as much as lateral. They are happy right where they are. Heaven will come soon enough and they will fly towards God later. He has them right where he wants them now. Even in seeking a simple birdcage, I see God's will.
In keeping birds, I'm reminded that He cares for me. He cares for you. He cares...
If you like this pearl, tweet your comment. I'd love to hear your song.