Cleveland Worries

This is my little red canary, Cleveland Brown.  I named him this because he sports the colors of my favorite football team, and I love him with all of my heart!  You may remember that I wrote this post about him several months ago.  Cleveland has a beautiful singing voice, and when he begins his melodic arias each day, it's like the entire house is filled with the essence of Spring!

But Cleveland's joyful trills are a bit deceiving.  Although he is provided daily with fresh water, a variety of delicious foods, fun toys, and a bright, sunny location from which to sing, Cleveland worries.  A lot.

When I approach his cage each day, his singing is replaced with frantic, frightened calls.  "Bweeep!!  Bweeep!!  Bweeep!"  Even though I do this EVERY day, and he is NEVER harmed, Cleveland worries.  Actually, EACH time he is rewarded with fresh water, replenished food, and even a freshly-diced apple treat.  But still, Cleveland worries.  I understand that it must be very unnerving, indeed, to experience a large hand reaching into your territory each morning and invading your space, but I'm stunned that he hasn't yet learned that these few seconds of discomfort ALWAYS lead to delicious treats.  Still, Cleveland worries.

I hate that I cause this fear in my sweet little songbird.  I wish I could somehow make him see that I love him with a heart so big, so full,  I couldn't hurt a feather on his precious, tiny head.  I wish he could see that I would defend him against anyone or anything that dared tried to cause him harm.  I wish he could see that the times when we DO need to cause him discomfort, it tears my heart into little pieces to hear his frightened cries.  Like when we have to catch him so we can hold him to clip his nails or put him in a holding cage so we can clean his home.  By the time we finally finish the unpleasant task and return him to the safety of his cage, I am a sweaty, useless wreck.

As I reached into Cleveland's cage this morning and heard the familiar "Bweeps" of fright, I thought about my own fears in this life.  Like the house we still own in York, PA, that's been on the market since last May, and still hasn't sold.  Or when we first moved here to Nashville, and I feared I wouldn't be able to find a job or make any new friends.  Boy, did I worry.

I forget about the One who watches over me, the One who is my protector.  The One who will defend me, and keep me from harm, and make sure I am clothed and fed.  The One who weeps with me when I cry and worry that things will never get better, even though He knows they will.

I'm a lot more like my little canary than I care to admit, actually.  He and I both have it way better than we'll ever know.