A feather

This morning I picked up a downy feather and
as I studied it a poem from the way past--think
childhood--came to mind.


'A spot of whiteness on the grass
Caught me as I hurried past.
I paused to marvel at a feather,
Beauty fallen from a wing,
But marveled more at God's perfection,
Poured into so small a thing.'

I am amazed at the shades and softness of this
feather--a feather hidden below the surface.
God is not only the maker of feathers, He is the
keeper of birds, for not one falls to the ground
that He does not know it.

Reader, if your heavenly Papa cares this much
about the detail of a hidden feather, how much
more does He care about YOU!