Sometimes our need exceeds our language to express it. It may be that our pain is so profound, or that we are stunned into silence. It may be that we don’t understand the situation or that we are confounded by agony. The truth is, we don’t always have language to think, much less vocalize, our suffering. We simply know we need help. The wonderful news is, there is a God bigger than our biggest sorrows.
I have chickens. 5 of them, to be exact. I happened into chickens when my son came to live with us a few years ago while going through a painful divorce. He had two chickens he had raised from babies and rather than find a new home for them, I told him to bring the coop and we’d take care of them.
Dutchess and Lucky provided more hours of entertainment than anything I found on television. You see, I grew up in the suburbs so I never had a chicken. I had to learn everything from scratch. I discovered they loved peanuts, sunflower seeds and lettuce. Every day before work I chopped up greens and put them in the coop, and every day after work I let them out to forage bugs from the lawn and eat treats out of my hand. We quickly discovered the wonder of fresh eggs and decided to add four chicks to our flock. I will never forget the joy of holding my first chick and the pleasure of teaching them I was worthy of their trust. We lost a chicken in the spring of 2024 and have happily settled with our five girls.
If one has never owned a chicken, one would never know how intelligent they are. They are also fast. They can run, fly, and hunt. They generally don’t like to be held or petted. Still, when I call them, they run to me because chickens are extremely food motivated. Just like me!
The chickens all began to molt late last Fall. Dutches was first, but the rest followed suit. Molting is a very painful process for a chicken. Not only do they lose all their feathers, they lose half their body weight as well. I think this happens because of the calories required to grow a gillion new feathers. When the pin feathers begin to grow in, it hurts the chicken a lot. They nibble at the pin feather and made sad lamentations. They are pathetic. Not unlike Job, they sit around and “scrape” their wounds.
The late molt coincided with a deep freeze across the midwest. I quickly discovered bald chickens don’t do well in an open coop outside. I came up with a quick solution in the form of a large dog crate filled with wood shavings. My basement is unfinished and as long as I monitor them and clean up quickly, the mess doesn’t get out of hand. I quickly learned the joy of having pet chickens with one notable exception, a chicken is not shy about expressing its feelings and can make an awful lot of noise.
They make soft clucks when they are happy. They purr when they are filled with gladness of heart. But when they are in distress, they make a loud “rawrk rawrk” noise. This usually happens if they are getting ready to lay an egg, but it also happens when they feel threatened or are in pain. I’ve come to recognize that noise, so when they make it, I run to see what is wrong and attend to their needs. This noise saved Dutchess’ life the night she didn’t make it into the coop and a possum tried to eat her. Her loud cries woke me up and I dispatched that critter to the other side of the fence. I thank God she was not seriously injured and only lost a few tail feathers. Needless to say, my ears are very attuned to the cries of my chickens. Why? Because I love them so much!
Our Father in Heaven is also attuned to the cries of his children. Not unlike a chicken who is having trouble laying an egg, He hears us bawking. He never turns a blind eye to our tears. And when the dark nights of the soul arrive in all their blackness, He is still there listening, watching, and loving us beyond our capacity to understand or maybe even sense His presence. He is real. He is good. He is kind.
“If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,’ even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.” – Psalm 139:11-12
I have been experiencing a great deal of pain for the past few months and have done my share of bawking. And, as I shall write about in my next post, I have doubted the goodness of God. But his provision will never be less than my need requires. In the fullness of time, He has gently guided me through the pain to arrive at a ‘fully-feathered’ life experience. Just as Dutchess survived her months-long molt, I too am revived by His tender mercies and grace.
If you are reading this and you are sad or grieving, please know that you are not alone. If all you are able to do is cry or maybe even utter a loud, “Help!” God hears you. He will run to your aid. He has promised, and this promise is sealed with the blood of His son.
”In my distress I called upon the Lord; to my God I cried for help. From his temple he heard my voice, and my cry to him reached his ears.” – Psalm 18:6
For good measure, I am including a picture of Dutchess post molt. And I also have to add, because of my tender care of her while she was in pain, she has come to regard me with new tenderness and affection. Not unlike how I come to regard my Father because of His care for me in my distress.
Dutchess in her splendor with new feathers
Wonderful.
Thank you!