Lessons from the bird feeder

I identify with these anxious birds who flit in and out, buzzing busily, occasionally creating an outburt if another bird lands while they are feeding. Hummungbirds are a new discovery of mine, since buying an aesthetically pleasing feeder and a porch swing just under it.

So industrious they seem, as I rock in my chair, trying to clear cloudy thoughts, trying to push away hurtful thoughts, file them somewhere deep in the abyss of the mind where I will never go looking again.

I remember distinctly learning in science that hummingbirds never land, but fly always. Now that we have a dozen or so ambushing our porch day and night, I can honestly say they sit aLOT. But only when they're not anxious. When they're anxious, they flit and flicker here and there, emitting a strangled warble now and again. So like me, picking at my clothes, looking for something I can tear or a way to hurt physically...like the hummingbird, indecisive but edgy, unable to make her choice.

I flit about my home for a few days, the suicidal thoughts building. Finally they scare me into calling the doctor. Who, of course, says I need a tune-up. So as you read this, I'm probably being "tuned up", in the hospital where they can adjust meds more quickly.
"Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?" (Matthew 6:26) 
"Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows" (Matthew 10:29-31).