With hooks they put him in a cage and brought him to the king of Babylon; they brought him into custody, that his voice should no more be heard on the mountains of Israel. –Ezekiel 19:9, ESV
There was, indeed, a sad part: the landlord bird that inhabited that cage for his prestigious years passed away a couple moons ago. It was such a sad sight; even today, I can hear the terribly acute squawks that terrorized the whole house at the wee hours of the morning. I’ll miss him whistle at the pretty ladies at my request. I’ll miss him trying to eat my turkey sandwich. Yeah, I’ll miss him pretty much.
But I remember: there was a chain from my past girlfriend that the bird pried open from my hands. He took it, almost swallowed it, and nested in a corner from the cage. We’re nothing anymore, but I always thought it was a goodwill gesture to give her something that belonged to her, anyway. So I thought that it’s a great idea for me to grab it. If it were that easy.
I slowly anointed my hand with grease and carefully slipped it one of the little back dents of the birdcage. Then I tried to turn my hand into the sides in order to get a little piece of the necklace. And then, I slowly let a corner go. And then I grab it again. And then I let it go. And then I took a firm grip and I finally got it!
But as I tried to get my hand out of the cage, I couldn’t. I clenched my fist, and it wouldn’t fit inside that slit –grease or no grease. I tried and I tried, but not even the rust in my hand would shake it out. I didn’t want to let go! I had a good intention, and by God, I’m gonna make it! And yet, I pulled and pulled and pulled, still I was hurting my own hand. It sucked! I didn’t want to let go! It was a favor, and as a favor, I needed to complete it. It’s not mine; I don’t even like her like that anymore…
But I had no choice. I had to let go. I’ll call her and explain what happened, but I can’t hurt myself. Not if it means destroying the tools God wants me to use the most.