The sound of birds chirping, as the soft yellow light of day broke, was a drastic comparison to the the week just passed. As I lay there listening to them, I pictured them gathering twigs for their new homes. It had been gray and wintery of late and today opened with a glimpse of the spring to come in every detail of it's design, and the birds were at work. I lay under the white fluffy cloud of my comforter. I loved my bedroom. The soft latte colored walls made it feel like a protective nook and the white lace curtains and bed linens made it feel luxurious like I was in the palace of Cleopatra. I had often thought that in modern times I was as blessed as she was and lived with the same kind of comforts that she did, and I lived a lavished life. I would often think of how opulent I thought her life was against the backdrop of the slaves in Egypt, and then think well I am in the same kind of life, and I could see that as I looked honestly outside my own chamber windows. I wondered what God thought of that. My mind was brought back to the sound of the birds. The birds have nothing but song. A humble gift that gives US joy. They ask for nothing, that they themselves cannot get on their own for survival, and yet they are happy to live their life in the natural simple cycle of it. We are so much more able than that, and yet we have not learned the lessons. We are always searching for more and wanting what we can't have. We need to learn that the quest of want and accumulation is pointless. We need to give up our song for others to enjoy, for in the end we will return to the crust of the earth just like the bird. Pin It Now!