A parable of chickens

Can we learn from animals?

I have six chickens and a cat currently. My husband and I started off with seven baby chicks in spring of 2020. Of those first seven, only one is still alive. Then we got three more about three years ago. One of those has already died. Then this last spring we got three more. These last three are doing well and are now great layers. My chickens communicate with me. When they are hungry, they squawk. It sounds like begging. The oldest hen even pulls on my jacket when she wants me to shake the food dispenser so she can get the best nuggets. When they lay an egg, they tell me about what they did with great pride. It sounds like unmitigated excitement. One of the new little ones tells me that she doesn’t know how to get into the nest. I don’t know why she can’t seem to get in, but she sounds desperate. “Please help me. Please, please help me get in. I need to lay an egg!” When I change something a little or something out of the ordinary happens, there will be loud squawking and sometimes scary wing flapping. When I let them out to free range a little, they run joyously to the door. A few of them even fly towards the door in their excitement, and sometimes even dash into it in their haste. Then, when it’s time for them to go back in, I say, “Chickie go home” as I tap my two sticks together and try to guide them back to the entrance. If they feel obedient and satiated with bugs, seeds and grass, they will cooperate, but if they don’t feel like going “home,” they will do everything they can to get out of doing what I want them to do. As you can see, they really are good communicators. They all have their own kind of chicken emotions. Do I sometimes act like a chicken? Similar kinds of fear, excitement, or wanting my own way? Hmmm.

There is one hen who will not let me touch her … ever. We got her as a pullet (a chicken teenager), and I believe that she had never been touched. I tried to get her used to me in the first weeks after she came, but she always ran away and stayed away from me. She still runs away if I ever try to get near her, and if I try to pick her up to see if she is okay, she dashes herself into the wall in her absolute terror. I just want to help her! No amount of calmness or trickery on my part works. Now, that is a bad thing because chickens have needs at times and in order to see what is wrong, we humans have to pick them up. She would sooner die of fright than let me pick her up. She currently has a sore foot, and I have not been able to pick her up to see what is wrong, never mind help her to be healed of it. If it’s an infection and if the infection spreads, she will die.

We are not so different from chickens (in certain ways!). Sometimes we need physical healing, and the doctor has to be able to check us out. We have heard stories of people who were afraid to go to the doctor, or to the dentist. Some people would rather have their teeth rot out of their mouths than go to the dentist! We also need spiritual healing. God our Father is the most wonderful spiritual doctor. He is the best specialist in that area. He has to be able to touch our lives in order for us to know what is wrong and how to overcome the issue. If we do not let our lives be touched in whatever way necessary, we cannot know the problem or the solution. I can see that I am lacking there. We have to, I have to, trust that when God touches our lives in a way that shows us something that we must see about ourselves so that we can change it, we have to believe that He is our divine doctor whose only motive is that he always, always wants the best for us. He wants us to be healed and to overcome so that we can get closer to Him. His single ulterior motive is to have a closer relationship with us. What an amazing Father we have!

Can God speak to us in parables in our daily lives? Yes, truly. He always wants a conversation with us to bring us higher. Is there a parable in your life that can really help you to get closer to Him?

**Postscript on the hen with the sore foot – I prayed for her. That’s all I could do for her. Somehow, she is doing much better now! No longer limping. Thank you, Lord!