Wednesday, 29 January 2014

Wednesday thoughts . . .

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We have a feeder in our back garden, just beyond the gate and in the grassed area, next to all of the rose bushes.   Actually it is several feeders in one.   There is the suet basket which holds great blocks of suet and seed . . . the nut cage which we fill with peanuts . . .  a long feeder tube which gets filled with Niger seed . . . another tube which we fill with mixed seed . . . and a tiny tray which we put our scraps of toast and bread crust in.  Occasionally when we are feeling a bit flush we will treat them to a dish of meal worms.  We are always rewarded for our generosity.

In early mornings the feeders a hive of activity as the birds flit back and forth between it and the hedgerow that runs the length of the garden on three sides.   I don't think there is a finer vision to behold in early morning than the sight of all those little heads popping up out of the greenery of the hedge to greet the morning sun.  It cheers my heart to the very core . . .

I often wonder at their stamina.  January is the coldest month of the year for the most part, and the stormiest and wettest, most miserable . . . a bitter month.  How they can withstand this extreme weather is a great mystery to me . . . they are such delicate creatures.  There are times when I have had occasion to hold an injured bird in my hand and I have wondered at the delicacy of it . . .

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"Oh, so light a foot, can ne'er wear out the everylasting flint." ~Shakespeare

To hold one of these dainty creatures in your hand is like holding a puff of air . . . their delicate little feet seem far too small to support much of anything . . . their bodies so tiny beneath the softness of their feathers.  Their strength and endurance are a miracle to me . . . when I think of the conditions they live under, how can they continue to fly . . . and sing.  Why do those little feet not freeze on the branch?  And yet . . . they don't.

When I see those small feet hopping over ice and through snow, I am amazed at the miracle of their survival.  I moan if the thermometer dips below ten degrees, and I shiver and I shake and turn up the thermostat, and yet . . . these dainty little beings have no such options.  They merely fluffy up their feathers and endure it . . .  and still they sing.

Somewhere in that there is a great lesson for us I think . . .   

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I do not believe that any of us are here by accident.  We have, each of us, been created for a glorious purpose and as a part of a wonderful plan.   I oftimes think of the great pioneers and all that they went through and endured.  I am not sure I could do the same.  I am not sure I have that same strength of being that they had to be able to cross oceans into the unknown and walk across valleys and plains in all conditions, making great sacrifices . . . to reach their promised land.   And it still happens today . . . each day I hear and read stories of people all over the world who take great chances and overcome great obstacles to find their promised lands, many dying in their attempt.

I am one of the blessed ones.  Having been born in a time and in such circumstances that I have never known what it is to be truly poor . . . to be hungry or without a roof over my head, with no shoes on my feet or clothes on my back to help keep me warm, and dry.  I have been loved beyond measure and yes, treasured.  I have always been able to see, hear, touch, feel, taste, walk and dance . . .  along with about a bazillion other things I take for granted most days.

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Why are there people so wealthy and blessed that they live in homes and lives filled with more opulance, extravagance and abundance than they need or could possibly ever use up . . . and yet others struggle to find and enjoy even the very basic necessities of life???  Why should some have so very much, and others so very little.  It doesn't seem fair somehow . . . and when I think of these things I wonder  I have been so blessed in life and yet others have not?

The only answer I can come up with is this.  Perhaps I have been given a crust of bread so that I might break it in half and share it with one who has not bread to break . . . change begins with one.

A thought to carry with you through today . . .

His light can pierce the darkness
And reach those places where all hope is lost.  


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Cooking in The English Kitchen today . . . Broccoli and Cheddar Chowder.

Have a great day! 

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