Mr. and Mrs. Blue Jay: Part 1

There's a pair of blue scrub jays building a nest in our backyard clematis vine.  They've been very industrious, carefully laying twig upon twig in a tidy configuration deep in the recesses of the bushy plant.  Earlier today this small black-and-brown tabby who has an entitlement complex as regards our backyard planted herself at the base of the vine and watched, nonchalant, as Mr. and Mrs. Blue Jay had a collective conniption fit.  One of them -- Mr. Blue Jay? -- repeatedly banged his beak against the metal patio furniture and the wood of the patio overhang in a manner that would have given our formerly outdoor, now kid-bed-resident Stanley cat a nervous breakdown.  Entitlement Tabby didn't appear concerned.  At one point she chased Mr. or Mrs. across the yard -- a cheeky sort of enterprise for a cat who isn't much bigger than our oversized squirrel population.  Then she proceeded to stretch her way up the trellis, and at that point Mr. and Mrs. resorted to joint-strike dive-bombing efforts.  Entitlement Tabby finally beat a retreat.

The animal world can be an unforgiving place.  Mr. and Mrs. Blue Jay may annoy our household as their family grows, but I was rooting for them nonetheless.  Jesus tells us that God looks after the birds of the field as illustration of how deep his care is for us.  That doesn't stop the Entitlement Tabbies of the world from sometimes reigning triumphant.  Neither birds nor cats peddle in abstract concepts.  Their world is their lived experience at any particular point in time.  Fortunately, we've been granted a glimpse, however, dim, into a broader and deeper reality.  At those times when the Entitlement Cats of our existence might seem to be gaining supremacy, it's worth remembering that God's plan is more intricate than our immediate, temporal reality.  We can trust that a bigger plan exists, even if we struggle to understand the details.