I know, that basically screams “Wow Rach, welcome to the country where there are chickens duh you city girl,” but although I’ve seen chickens, I’ve never owned or had chickens that where just, living in my garage. (Apparently they are not actually chickens. They are actually guineas, but they look like chickens, and I have never read a cardboard book that said anything about baby guineas, so they are chickens.)
Despite the fact that they will probably have an identity crisis when they are older, they are pretty cute! We have two white ones—Marshmallow and Snowball—two grey ones – I forget their names—and two brown ones—Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. (I see that look you are giving me… Don’t judge.)
They are so fluffy! Granted, my hands are always cold, so they don’t really love me, but hey, that’s why we have Precious. (Who can be very compassionate. When provoked.)
I love sitting and watching them just scuttle around and peck at stuff.
We took them out on the drive way for the first time, and my mama—who has become the chicken whisperer of the family—was kind of sitting down on the cement. Whenever the baby chicks got scared, they would run under my mama, and have a little conversation before running back out and exploring a little further.
This happened a couple times, and each time they got scared, they would run and huddle under my mama.
As I was watching them (and poking them with a long piece of grass…) I noticed something.
Whenever I get scared, what do I do with my life?
Usually not under my mother—because that would be awkward-- but under things like my popularity (or lack thereof) under my talents, acceptance, cool looking clothes and under music that I probably play to loudly. (That was a run on sentence that I’m not even going to fix. You’re welcome.)
Anyway, as I was sitting there poking the chickens, I started thinking about the Bible and about how Jesus mourns over Jerusalem, that he just wanted to gather them up and let them hide under his wings as a chicken gathers up her baby chickens.
To be there for His children when they are scared.
I almost wonder if when we look at the things we are hiding under, we are taking what could be comforting and cheating ourselves.
When we hide under our popularity, our music and stuff that we can contain and control, are we cheating ourselves from what God is longing to give us.
I found this verse that says: “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you can hide. His truth will be your shield and protection. You will not fear any danger by night or an arrow during the day…” (Psalms 91:4-5)
When we are afraid, he is there to be our strong tower. He wants to gather us close and hold us in his unfailing love.
But do we let him?
You see, like my mama with chickens they had to come to her.
I suppose that they could have hidden under a lot of other things, but that was one thing that they knew would stay steady.
I know Jesus will always be steady, but do I run to him?
Do I run to him when the mountains seem too high to climb and when the giant spider chases me? Do I run to Jesus when my sibling takes my piece of grass and when the wind is so stiff I’m falling?
How often to I run to Jesus?
Because it’s not often enough…
“Jerusalem, Jerusalem!... Many times I’ve wanted to gather your people as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings but you would not let me…” –Luke 13:34