I love birds. All sorts of birds. Even the red-winged black birds that have this sort of annoying call. I love them. I love the little brown birds that hang out in the bushes at my office. They like to hop onto the tailpipes of pickups and chirp and chatter at anyone who walks by. They make me happy. I don't know where my love of birds came from. Possibly from my mom who claimed she'd give a dollar to any one of us children who could spot a red bird. (I'm not sure if she ever paid up). Or I might have really gotten it from the time I spent in Tennessee with a good buddy. We'd fill the feeders. sit in the sun room, and watch the birds and the squirrels gobble it all up. He could name every bird. I just call them by their colors. Red, blue, brown.
So apparently the singing hymns in the morning, wasn't my idea. It was in the very next chapter. The one I read this morning. The anecdote was about a gentleman who decided to change the pace of his life after watching a bird wake in the morning. The bird stretched. Went back to sleep for a few minutes. Woke and stretched again before singing a little tune and getting on with his day.
So the man started singing hymns each morning. I guess his wife thought he'd lost a rocker or something, but it slowed him down. Luckily for me, nobody is going to hear me sing in the morning. And I know it was only the first day, but I did remember the words when trouble arose. When work got busy, I just laughed. When I met a rather frazzled woman, I simply reminded myself to be calm - "It is well with my soul." It wasn't a perfect day to be sure, I still have to work on the not introducing communism into conversation. No, I am not really talking about communism. I just mean negative thoughts, negative news. It has to go.
I'm off to wake the neighbors. What song are you singing this morning?