When Birds Hop

I met a friend of mine for Jason's Deli for lunch today. I get one sandwich there. California Club, no Swiss, regular potato chips, and a chocolate chip pecan cookie. I'm a creature of habit. Eating habits are not the point of this story though.

I was sitting outside, waiting for her to get there. I'd brought a book for such a circumstance. Meeting anybody for lunch in BR is crazy right now. One person will always have to wait because of traffic. So I brought "Shopgirl." A friend of mine recommended it and lent it to me. I've not finished it yet, but I'm going to. I can somewhat identify with the main character. There's a bit of language and a bit of other stuff that makes me blush occasionally. But I just skim over some parts and tell myself to not be such a prude. But it's funny and simple in an easy read kind of way.

So I'm sitting out there, enjoying the warm sun on my skin, knowing I can't stay too long in it or I'll burn. It's just toasty enough for me to comfortable. So I'm skimming my reading, trying to watch for her with my nose in a book. Well, there just happens to be four or five little birds hopping around. It was right then and there that I had an epiphany. I love watching little birds hop. They were just skipping around, minding their own business, having what looked like to me lots of fun. They weren't shaking their heads with worry, or frowning about where their next meal would come from. They were just dancing in the sunlight. And then the thought flits through my head that if God can take care of these little hopping skipping sprites, then how much more does He care for me?

After that thought, a small part of me wanted to dance in the sunlight with them.