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Dinner preparation was hard last night. I wept
Not from cutting onions, but from listening
to the evening news / Hurricane on immediate family
Lord, have mercy / Covid now in rural areas
Lord, have mercy / Politicking president
Lord have mercy / Fresh grief from a bereft mother
How long, O Lord? (I, too, have lost a 20-year old.)
George Floyd pleading in newly-released video
Lord, have mercy / (We know what came next)
All this put me over the top until I took refuge in a
Simple task: I went out back and fed the birds.
Or replenished the bird-feeder, actually. So much
Sorrow, so many concerns / Lord have mercy.
Somehow, putting the knife down on the counter,
Washing my hands, heading to the garage for
Birdseed helped me trace my steps to you, God.
Thank you for your birds. Not one of them drops
From the sky that you don’t notice, so I know you
Hear their prayers and cheeps and songs and calls
As well as all of mine and those of all your children
Who are calling out to you tonight. So again I ask
How long? Show me what you want me to do,
Beginning with (but not limited to) feeding these,
Your chatty birds. Amen. Oh, yeah, and keep
Rodney the Squirrel (one of your more rascally
Servants) away from the feeder long enough for
The birds to also have some. And so, Amen again.