There B Chickens

Last year my dear wife decided we needed 5 chickens. A friend that lives down the road gave us a 4 Bantee chicks, the Bantee hen that laid the eggs and an ornery old hen that Michele calls, "Queen Victoria". The same friend that gifted us the chickens, also spent a couple days building us a chicken coup and run. The chicken coup turned out amazing, complete with a couple windows and a ladder for them to chill-out roosting on. Anyways, the 4 snow white Bantee chickens discovered they can fly so, keeping them inside their pen is a joke. They come and go at will. One of my other neighbor "friends" snuck into our chicken coup and gave us a very obnoxious rooster. His life expectancy has been in question ever since he announced 4:00 a.m. his first morning here. I suspect I know why the neighbors left the little heathen in our chicken coup. However, a month ago, I opened the door to the coup and there was ”Bob", a day old Bantee chick. Bob was a pill and it took two of the mothering hens working around the clock to keep the little nuisance out of trouble. Bob lasted a week and disappeared. He was small enough to run through the chicken wire and escape the protection of his mothering hens. Two days ago, I stepped outside with "BubbaJoe" our elderly Pug for his morning patrol of the property and there in the middle of the grass was one of the white Bantee hens with 11 day old chicks. This is a far cry from Michele's plan for 5 chickens. Did I mention that my beautiful wife doesn't eat eggs? Anyway, I scrounged a treadmill box out of the recycle bin, filled it with fresh green Alfalfa and introduced the chicks to their new world. They have a lot to say and every-time they feel threatened, they quickly scurry under momma, all 11 of them. I observe layers of sermon illustrations in this blog. First is the dangers Bob chose to expose himself to when he left the protection of his mothering hen and the wire fence. I observed Bob having a good time and exploring all the world had to offer -- right up to where a hawk or owl swooped in and ruined his day. Second, the mothering hen and her 11 chicks have no appreciation for the protective box, green Alfalfa, constant fresh water, the nightly heat lamp, or the frequent feeding of chick scratch. They simply take for granted all we provide for them. They are so busy eating, sleeping, drinking, and exploring that they seldom pay us no more than a passing glance. I will limit my rambling observations, but know this, if a predictor were to come up on the porch looking for a chicken dinner, he would have to face me and my .45 caliber Colt. Why? Because I choose to be the caretaker, provider and protector of those 11 chicks. What do they do for me? Nothing. What do they have to offer me of value? Nothing. It would be silly for one of them in a grand gesture of gratitude to offer me a speck of chicken scratch that I tossed to him in the first place. What do I need his speck of scratch for? I have a whole bag at my disposal. Am I supposed to be impressed by the little chicks offering of a tiny flake of food? I often suspect the Almighty good Lord looks at me the same way as I offer Him a tiny speck of what He gave me in the first place. So what does God desire of you and me? "O man, He has told you what is good. What does the Lord ask of you but to do what is fair and to love kindness, and to walk without pride with your God?" Micah 6:8