Birdbrain

I'm confused. I don't like wall pictures of animals or birds, but I have a strong like of birds themselves. Indeed, for many years I've kept one or two in succession as prisoners in a cage in my house. These parakeets or cockatiels have gone by the names of Tigleth Pilesser III, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, St. Anthony the Hermit, etc. Oh, I've lost bits of two fingers to them, but after going a week without food and water, they learned to relax. And I'm a fanatic feeder of wild birds. It's kind of a spiritual exercise for me, reminding me of the gospel verses, "Look at the lilies of the field . . . the birds of the air . . . Your heavenly Father takes care of them . . . [see in them] the presence of the Father's kingdom, and seek it." So, as I engage in providential care of the birds of the air and the yard, I see my very pale attempt to duplicate God's providential care of me. The neighborhood kids wait for me to go the outdoor feeders in my yard, then they taunt me, "Look at the crazy birdbrain! Look at the crazy birdbrain!" But what do they know? They, like most people, prefer dogs (see my blog entry, "Dogfight"). Well, I do admit that "dog" spelled backward is "god" ("God"). What is the theological sigificance of this? I don't know, but I can ponder it as I feed my birds, listen to the children's taunts, and hear their yapping dogs in the background.

Oh, one more thing. Please see that Joanie has inscribed on my tombstone: "Feed My Birds."

-Old Doc