Fluffed Up About the Right Stuff

After a stimulating breakfast with someone from the congregation, I drove down 225 toward the church. Cars were stopped up ahead as part of a flock of turkeys (or a "dole," or a "death-row") was crossing the road. The cars moved on when there was a gap in the flock, but I had to stop as the last two male turkeys crossed, each in full feather, one coming straight at my car, then turning to show the back of his tail right up against my front bumper, like some sort of turkey crossing guard. I was struck that here was a man puffed up to protect his family from the danger of a massive metal object 10 times his size. Then I remembered that I spend more time puffed up in full feather, protecting not my wife, but myself from imagined injury, from thinking I've been misunderstood. I want to be a husband who will pull himself up to his full manhood to defend his beloved from all that threatens her, instead of guarding his own pride. Jesus has SUCH a work to do in me . . .