zoo animals

Alright, everyone. Turns out, I've got tons of drafted blogs that never got published. I think I'll release a few (as I approach my 200th blog posting) just for a little fun!




I love zoos. I love feeling so close to things so unique; close enough to breathe the same air, watch the same sun, and almost, just barely, close enough to touch. I especially like watching the fuzzy, fluffy, feathery, slippery creatures just be. It's like they're perfectly content and totally adapted to this synthetic, planned habitat. For the most part, they seem quite happy.

But then I wonder, are they actually happy? Maybe they do see those glass walls and chain fences. Maybe they're confused why they, the elephants, are beside the polar bears. Surely they look at all those toddlers and big people with little, inquisitive eyes wandering around. Perhaps, just maybe, they've decided, "this is as good as it gets."

And it can't be all bad. Meals come in buckets, hand delivered, rather than running around all the time. The water is freshly recycled and the bedding is fluffed. But maybe they know that this is not what they were meant for.

And some days, I feel like that zoo animal. The penguin who knows that's not real snow, and the band on her leg that is a color that does not occur in nature. And while the lion is fun to watch and the nice ladies bring fish right to my perch, l'm not living where I was intended to live. But something tells me that this is all there is.

But that's not what hope is about. Hope is about knowing that there is more. It's about knowing that things can always get better, blessings can always be bigger, and that promises can be kept. And in hopeless situations sometimes that's all we have, is the hope that tells us we were made for more.