Tuesday, July 5, 2011


A baby bird lays on the grass—dead.
I had read somewhere that mama birds push their babies out of the nest when it’s time for them to move on and sometimes one may fall. There’s no one to rescue them from cats or other predators. I tried to get that baby bird out of my mind, but this week it has reappeared. It has a human face that begins to age, lines deepening, hair graying, and skin growing loose.
The bird lays in the grass. He once flew catching the wind and gliding, a thing of beauty and promise in the blue sky. He could have been someone, done something, and instead he lays still unable to fly because his wings have been clipped. They have always been clipped. He thought he could fly, but he never flew far from the nest.
That face floats in my mind now and I pray for him. I pray fervently for this bird and I see how his life has impacted others. The blind follow the blind. Pity reflects off of the faces of others and one day he will realize too late that if he doesn’t change his ways and turn to God for guidance, he will lie in the grass an old man while his friends grow younger and younger.
This bird has a purpose still, if only he will fly!

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