I have been felting animals. Donkeys, sheep, hummingbirds, bunnies, puppies and teddy bears have all appeared from balls of wool. In the effort to get them to look realistic, I spend hours watching tutorials and photographs on the internet. My gaze goes back and forth between the armature on my lap and the picture on my screen. If the legs seem too gangly, I pound them with needles to thicken them, and if the back is too shallow I add another pillow of wool. You might think that looking once would be enough but it seems that fifty comparisons do not suffice.

 

Still the effort is not without rewards. I currently have a yellow duckling tucked in my arm. She is very soft. In celebration of finishing her I sang about five little ducks with my granddaughter, who was in the tub at the time. Olly knew all the verses. It was fun to share our crocodile tears when the duckies were gone, and shout when they came swimming back. 

 

The other night I watched a documentary about wildlife in Africa. There is new technology that enables scientists to film animals in the dark. It is revealing previously unknown patterns of hunting, and migration. I find that my allegiance waffles. If the lioness is stalking a zebra colt, I want him to escape. But if the show down is between a hippo and a tiger I side with the cat. It turns out that I don't actually get a vote. The food chain in the jungle pays no heed to the preferences of a bystander on another continent, which seem to be linked to fur and age.  

 

There was a dramatic scene of cheetahs chasing antelopes through the grass. They can reach speeds of a hundred km/h for short bursts. It certainly gives them an edge over their terrified prey. But even as I marveled at their fluid grace, I had a thought. 

 

"Their heads are too small."

 

This was the aftermath of days of calibrating the rabbits and hedgehogs I have been poking into life. It was my task to correct such mistakes of proportion. But these magnificent creatures were real. God made them, and expertly so. It was actually none of my business. God seems to know what goes into designing animals capable of sprinting. Or reaching the leaves in the tops of trees. Or legs long enough to stand in water without drowning. Hence the variety we find on a well researched documentary. 

 

It occurs to me that I could be so bold as to trust His judgment in other areas of my life as well. But sometimes my head is just too big.