The other day, one of my crow friends posed for me, and altho' he looked like an eagle at first, I realized when I drew him, it was not at all the image I sketched. It was of a lonely bird!
Blackie the crow and his mother had always been together, until she sacrificed herself to make sure he got away--from then on, he showed up by himself. Whenever he landed on a branch, he would not feel the familiar second bounce; bathing in the stream meant not seeing a second reflection in the water; and catching a worm meant not feeling a playful tug on the other end anymore. I'd never associated feelings with crows before, but for at least a month, I sensed something akin to mourning from Blackie.
But while animals usually do not care for those of other species, it was Blackie, a crow, I saw fly off of his branch to protect a weak carp from human teasing. It seems the crow with the broken heart had a capacity the other crows did not know.
Could it be God could make you better than what you know now, by bringing situations in your life that break your heart? Hm.
