DH and I were feeding the bluebirds meal worms on the patio the other night. They’re picky eaters. They only like the meal worms that are alive and squirming. I was still kind of mad at God for letting something eat their baby birds, when we had this conversation:
DH: “What if God said no?”
Me: “Huh?”
DH: “What if God said no them? They can’t have babies.”
Me: “Oh. I’m still mad.”
DH: “I’m sure you’ll find something insightful about this.”
And, as DH usually is, he was right. My guess it just isn't what he thought I'd come up with.
It struck me weird that I was “mourning” the loss of these baby bluebirds, because they became food for something else, when at the same time I was getting live meal worms out to feed the parents. There’s this whole cycle of nature and I determined/decided that the bluebirds were worthy of living and the meal worms were not. Apparently something else decided that the bluebirds made a good meal. And we tend to think cows and chicken and pigs and fish make good eatin'.
I'm really hoping nothing thinks I'd taste good!
I'm really hoping nothing thinks I'd taste good!
I thought of you yesterday when I saw a cat jump up at the bird feeder. I ran out to scare kitty away and came into the house singing, "The Circle of Life" from The Lion King. The fam got a kick out of it. Thanks for the laugh!
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