Such a fragile little thing.

 Count your blessings name them one by one. (Hymn)

My mother use to say precious things come in small parcels and I thought of that when I saw the beautiful small feather lying on the table in my sacred space. A gift for the morning. It wasn't just any light brown feather because when it caught the light its true colours were revealed in a magenta  shining colour which caught you by surprise. Such a fragile little thing yet so full of beauty and I thought of the bird who had left it there for my delight and I thought of its creator and I thought of how the light of Christ can come and shine on us and reveal our true colours. Joyce Rupp says: 'And so in my life, what I see as fragile, weak and frail, may be my greatest gift.'

Left for my delight.