The Guardian

This morning I took some bits of apple core up to my ever decreasing little flock of chickens. They love fruit of all kinds, so this was a treat for them. To my call of "chick chick chick, here chick chick chick" my few hens and their rooster came running through the pines sounding like a herd of elephants coming through the dry, rustling leaves. As I threw the bits of apple to them, the rooster made little calling noises to his hens, showing them where the food was. The hens, selfish gluttons that they are, fell all over themselves to see who could get the most, even stealing from their sisters. (Hens are such notoriously dumb clucks.) I have seen my roosters behave this way before over the decade I've had chickens. (My, but I've had so many over the years, and I remember them all!) The rooster will first call his hens to the food, then he will pick up and drop several pieces to show his hens where and what it is, clucking and calling all the while. Then he will step back and let them all eat while he stands so tall and proud and watches for danger. He always keeps one eye on me, too, even though he knows I'm the one who brings the food. If there is enough, he will eat when the hens are finished, otherwise he doesn't eat.

I know I'm just an old lady out of her time, but I see in this rooster behavior a foggy reflection of how God our Father calls us to nourishment then steps back to guard and watch while we feed on what He has brought.

When difficulties, hardships, and heartaches come to us in this life, it is good to stop and think that there is still nourishment for us; that there is One Who is always there lovingly and carefully watching and guarding and protecting us, even though we are too busy and perhaps too heartbroken to see it.