The Slow Noose Is What Gets Us!

"One day long ago, over the hot sands of a middle eastern country, a white Skylark flew in joyous loops about the sky. As she swooped near the earth, she heard a merchant crying you, "Worms! Worms! Worms for feathers! delicious worms! The Skylark circled about the merchant, hungry at the mention of worms, but puzzled about what the merchant meant. Little did the skylark know that the merchant was the devil. And seeing that the Skylark was interested, the devil motioned her near. "Come here, my little friend. Come See the lovely worms I have!"

Cautiously, the skylark landed and cocked her head to the merchant. "Come! Tasty juicy worms!" The skylark became aware that she was, indeed, quite hungry. And these worms look bigger and tastier than any she had ever dug for herself out of the hardscrabble ground of the desert. The Skylark hopped closer and put her beak up close to the worm. "Two worms for a feather, my friend. Two worms for merely one!"

The skylark was unable to resist. And she had, after all, so many feathers. So, after a swift motion she pulled out a feather – just a small one – from beneath your wing and gave it to the merchant. "Take your pick, my little friend... any two, your hearts desire!" The skylark quickly snatched up two of the plumpest worms and swallowed her meal with delight. Never before had she tasted such wonderful worms. With a loud chirp, she leapt into the air and resumed her joyful flight.

Day after day the Skylark return. And always the merchant had wonderful worms to offer: black ones and blue ones, red ones and green ones, all fat and shiny and iridescent. But one day, after eating her fill, the Skylark leapt again into the air – and to her horror, she fell to the ground with a thud. She was unable to fly!

All at once with a shock she realized what had happened. From eating the delicious worms she had grown fatter and fatter; and she had plucked her feathers one by one, first her body, then her tail, and finally her very wings had grown balder and balder. Horrified, she remembered how, slowly, imperceptibly, day by day, it had been getting harder and harder to fly, and how she had told herself it was no matter. She could always stop before it was too late. Now suddenly here she was, trapped on the ground. She looked up and saw the merchant looking at her. Was that a small, sly grin spreading across his face? He grabbed the now helpless bird, put her in the cage, and walked away laughing."

(Untamed: Reactivating Missional Form Of Leadership. Alan & Deborah Hirsch. Baker Books, 2010 pg 21- 22)