Of Angels and Angelfish

I was sitting at the table in the livingroom awhile ago, busily knitting away on my current afghan. I have a person in mind that it is intended for and while I am knitting I pray off and on for both her, her daughter and her granddaughter. Cheyenne is still curled up on part of it, snuggled down and very comfy. I reached over, petted her head and neck and she started purring. I thought to myself - how wonderful it is that God has given us the gift of touch. Her fur is so soft and gives such pleasure when stroked. Of course, that doesn't happen very often because she usually does not like to be touched at all. About the time I reached down and gave her a kiss-kiss on the ear (the kind that doesn't really touch anything), I heard one of the fish jump in the little aquarium I have sitting on the table.

I have four fish now. One is black, two are white and one is an angelfish - at least I call it an angelfish. Actually, the only one I am sure about is the molly - I know that one is a molly. The others, well, I just know that they are fish. These fish were a gift at Thanksgiving from one of the new couples in the church. I like fish, I like watching them swim around in their tank. I would love to have a much larger tank and several more fish, but right now, I'm pushing my luck with Mel as it is. He is concerned about who will take care of them during the times we are gone.

Scientists have reported that goldfish have a memory span of something like six whole seconds. I wonder how they know this. I also wonder what the fish are thinking if that is true. Every six seconds they see a whole new world. That could be very exciting, depending on what your world consists of. Somehow I seriously doubt if after six seconds they have forgotten that that bigger fish over there in the corner would really like to swallow them up for dinner.

My fish have much better memories than silly ol' goldfish. My fish know me. When I come in the room, they swim over to the corner of their little world that is closest to me. They float there, looking at me looking at them, waving their tails and fins gracefully in the water. When I sit at the table to eat, or read or knit, I often look up and they are there watching me do what ever I am doing. I wonder what they are thinking.

The angelfish always tells me when he wants to eat. He starts jumping and breaking the surface of the water with a little splash. I glance up, he swims back over to the side and sends me telepathic messages, "feedmefeedmefeedmefeedme" until it finally sinks into my dense brain. He wants fed. Other times I think he just jumps for the joy of jumping.

I know that God has made every creature that lives on the earth. And I know that each one was created to bring Him joy and pleasure in some way. As I watch my fish living their lives in a couple gallons of water, I wonder to my self - how do these fish glorify God? How do they praise Him? I have no doubt that they DO praise Him and glorify Him. I am just unable to see it in my limited human way.

"Praise the Lord from the earth,
you great sea creatures
and all ocean depths."
Psalm 148:7
(I'm sure my fish are included in this verse, even though they aren't "great sea creatures," just little ones.)
Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.
Praise the Lord.
Psalm 150:6
(the last verse of the Psalms)

I don't know where angels come in this post, other than the fact that they also praise God and glorify him at all times. But it made a nice title. {grin}