Don't Chicken Out

It is hard to imagine, after enjoying the beautiful 50 degree day yesterday, that schools were closed just last week due to the bitter cold.  During that bitter cold spell many advisories were issued.  One of those advisories was to make sure you made proper arrangements for your outside pets.

Our pets are two Bantam roosters named Roadrunner and Speckles.  Due to the limitations of their coop, there was not ample space for them to nest under a heat light so I grudgingly agreed to allow the duo to move into the garage.

The thing is, the garage is right next to our bedroom.  The other thing is, I have this super sonic hearing issue and noises drive me crazy.  I knew there would be a lot of late night ruckus and early morning crowing and I was not looking forward to it. 

The husband lovingly set up their temporary space in the garage.  He crafted a comfortable bed of hay adorned with a top notch heat lamp that would ebb out the creeping cold during the freezing temperatures.  Around the nest of hay, he provided complimentary feed and drink to make their stay as comfortable as possible.  He deposited the chickens into the bed of hay and bid them good night. 

Before the evening ended he returned back to the garage to see how the chickens were doing in their new environment.  As he swung open the door he took in Road Runner and Speckles perched upon a pile of sleds and other garage goodies.  They cackled their alarm at his arrival and he shook his head in disbelief.  The comfortable bed of hay lay empty.  They had made preference their instinct to roost elevated, hoping to escape the potential danger that lurked below.  In their fear they rejected the protection of the bed of straw and warm light their keeper had set up for their benefit.  There was no way for them to know that the forecast would plummet to temperatures that would threaten their safety, but my husband, the keeper, did. 

I wonder how many times in this life do we respond to God’s leading with such absurd measures?  We go with the comfortable, with what we know, and take our perch.  We reject the new, due to fear of it being different.  We settle with how it has always been instead of trusting in the light and protection of the keeper.  To put it simply, we chicken out.

The problem in the above scenario is that the chickens did not trust their keeper.  They quickly reverted back to their primal instinct, fear.  If we allow that fear to reign it pushes out trust.  If we don't trust, we tend to fight.

“There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear.....” -- 1 John 4:18

I am not sure where you are at in your journey, but I do know this: You have a keeper that dearly loves you.  I do not know the avenue of fear that may hold you hostage, but I do know this: He is worth the risk to leave the perch you have always known.  

This life, that is just a vapor, was meant to be lived in the the light and warmth of His goodness.  It was not meant to be lived in darkness, clinging to regrets.  Even our stubborn chickens eventually realized this.  It took some coaxing from the keeper, but eventually they trusted the light and realized his set up was way better then their own.  I think we would be well off to do the same.

My friend, life is too short and precariously precious to chicken out and let fear rule.  Let it go, and trust God to be your keeper.