Chores

To some, it would be easily described as a chore.  But the mere connotation of something obligatory, and worse yet, something dreaded is so far from my experience that I can only call it a chore in jest.  I stop by the coop with a breakfast of oats and mealworms for the girls.  It's yet too early for the automatic door to have opened, but as I talk with the girls from outside the coop, I hear them jump off the roosting bars and even peck at the door.  Knowing the eager parade of feathered excitement that awaits, I happily open the door myself, and chuckle at the onslaught of chatter and energy from seven crazy chickens.  The oats and mealworms are greatly appreciated and quickly devoured.  I open the window on the coop from inside the run before making my departure to go around to the coop and the remaining windows. 

When I step inside the coop, Della comes in from the chicken door.  Abandoning the oats and mealworms is no small deal, and I know even more certainly that I have in the past few days that she is getting close to laying her first egg.  She jumps up on the small step stool I have in front of the nesting boxes and begins her quiet cooing.  It delights my soul in ways I cannot describe.  I know it makes me sound truly crazy, but it truly feels like a sweet conversation.  I give her a little pep talk and she hops up into the nesting boxes.  She's done this before, but today she settles in more than previously and I know for certain today there will be an egg.  There is something very serene about a hen in a nest.  They are so quiet and still I often think they might be praying.  I relate more than I care to admit; enjoying my own solitude and quiet whenever I can and understanding the satisfaction that comes from doing even just one thing well. 

I have to leave for work before I see the results of her efforts.  But I carry this little moment, this simple peace, with me throughout my day.  


They say God speaks to us.  If only we are still enough to listen.  I hear Him.  His creation speaks to me.  In the soft cooing reassurances of a bird, I hear Him say, "Be.Here.Now."  And I stand, in the coop, with Della and my Lord as company.  It is well with my soul. 

Comments

Second Mom said…
Isn't it the little things in life that give us pleasure?

Popular Posts