Guy in his wisdom has made a cute little turquoise bird box on our patio. We can see it day by day from the comfort of an arm chair. We were delighted when we discovered blue tits had found it and watched intrigued as they bought twigs and straw to kit it out. They flit cautiously from branch to branch, their heads cocked to one side alert for any danger, their beaks full of construction material. However danger abounds a-plenty in our garden as we have two cats.
This morning we drew back the curtains to see one cat balanced precariously directly on top of the box, her head cocked to one side, hopefully listening and waiting. To her credit she almost looked sheepish as Guy yelled out of the window and she reluctantly withdrew. It is in her nature to kill, she is conditioned, she cannot help it, stop it or feel ashamed. She can not be talked to, appealed to, made to feel guilty and despite ever increasing barriers of holly, upturned nails, citrus peel she is drawn back again and again. She has no free choice.
Unlike our cats I do have choices despite the times it seems that what I do is not the good I want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it. How nice it would be to blame our instinct when the truth is we do feel the shame, the guilt and the disappointment when we get it wrong. We do have a conscience, not to condemn us but to help us.
Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God-through Jesus Christ our Lord!
Heather's ramblings 