Who Do You Perch With?

If you were a bird, what kind would you pick to be? If I were a bird I’d be a yellow-feathered, fluffy butt. I’d wake up singing Christmas favorites and waking all of the other birds around me to my songs of joy. I’ve noticed that the yellow-feathered, fluffy butt is indigenous to the prairie of North Dakota where I tend to perch. Occasionally other birds attempt to nest in my nest but only because my boundaries are not very good.

For instance, recently the black- billed, blubbering bird tried to darken my day. I purposefully dropped it a worm just to get rid of it’s dark and dreary bird voice. Just for future reference, it’s a real gossip! Should you ever come upon one, plug you ears.

No sooner had I gotten rid of the black-billed, blubbering bird, when out of the blue the orange-tipped, feather head appeared.

This bird was grand but knew it. She pranced around on the branch of the snowy cottonwood tree as if she was walking. She put her feather on her hip and would open the feathers on her head in a display of, “Look at me, look at me! I’m the prettiest, the fanciest and the best that can be!”

She pranced her way right off the branch and flew away to show off to others of her kind. You know the kind -the attention stealer birds of flight.

Down yonder on the top of a round bale sat a grey graying grayling, as grey as grey could be. Not another color of any hue graced its little bird body. This bird was intelligently designed the polar opposite of the orange-tipped feather head.

The grey graying grayling tried to morph into the wood on the side of the grey weathered barn hoping never to be recognized. This bird hates attention but loves to observe all that is happening around her. She’s very much an introvert and would die should she every be asked to sing a birdsong solo.

The last kind of bird that attempts to perch where I often do is a bird I call the blue-footed, black-feathered meanie bird. She reacts to the slightest greeting in yapping song that sounds like she’s yelling a scowl directly in your face. This bird has eyebrows that furrow whenever she sings She always sings the blues. She’s a mean looking meanie bird.

Out of all the birds that flock to my perch, it’s the blue-footed, black feathered meanie bird that I hope comes perch with me. After all, I’m the yellow-feathered, fluffy butt and I love to hug. I’m just the bird she needs.

It’s funny how the birds you need to be near you during any season of life just seem to appear.

So, I ask you, what kind of bird are you among your flock? Do your feathers change colors or are you who you are? Whoever you are today, try to remember that you’re purposed, loved and intelligently designed. Now go sing your song and sing it proud, loud and like you’re in God’s choir.