the common

This fellow who has discovered our feeders,

is deemed common because of his colorless plumage

or perhaps because of his vast numbers or his nondescript song.

He flutters gracelessly to the feeders, wings flapping.

Would we be more impressed if he wore the scarlet jacket and cap of the cardinal?

Would we be intrigued if he was the elusive oriole?

Would we listen if he sang as sweetly as the purple finch?

Would we applaud if he darted in like the acrobatic nuthatch?

Worshippers are we of the beautiful, the rare, the famous voices, the olympians.

The audience, those seated in the onlookers chairs- do they not wish to soar with voice and wing above and beyond? Secretly begrudge? Wish to shed the brown for scarlet, exchange the chirps for tra-la-las. Retrain the fluttering wings.

and yet...

The Father Creator cares for the sparrow..."not one of them is forgotten in the sight of God" (luke 12:6) The Son Redeemer chose common men to be the foundation of the church.

The nondescript to rise above.

Perhaps as I look around at my messy house, under renovations, and I wish to shed the common tasks put in my day I should remember to also let these nondescripts rise above.

Still

somedays

I would rather soar....