Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Grand Ole (Soap) Opry

"Please! I don't want to hear any more of 'Days of Our (Chickens') Lives!'" my son Jamie groaned over the phone when I reported the latest drama with our poultry the other day. And every day it gets worse! Something broke in and decimated our flock last week. Today we found only 7 chickens left of the 100 or so birds we had up until recently!

Anyway, I have had it! We saw a chicken hawk sailing low over the farm and scanning the area today, as if there were anything left! I think it all started with our giving them a little freedom from their shelter where they were protected by chicken wire to go into the fenced, but topless, enclosure.

A few began to escape, alerting wildlife to their existence, then something bigger (Bobcat? Fox? Dog?) breached their pens and wreaked havoc, death and destruction. Feathers are everywhere. Even our prized guineas are gone.

So when I heard my husband talking to our son (his partner in crime, or should I say chicken business) and saying, "I'd like to get a few more hens and build it up again," I strongly protested.

"What did Greg say?" I asked at the end of their conversation, and I was deflated to hear, "He said he's going to build the pens back stronger than ever!" I give up! Howard was calling to me that the mail had come and there was a new Guidepost magazine.

The first story I read was from a woman whose husband was determinedly hanging on to a failing farm. She saw no hope as disaster after disaster plagued their cows, their crops and their water system. It seemed as if all he did was read the Bible, much to her impatience. She sounded like me! (Don't get me wrong, I love the Bible, too, but I am a fast reader...not so good, I know.)

Anyway, after his stolid perseverance, their cows got well, the rain came and things turned around. Their milk sold, they could take showers, and contentment settled in. (They even opened craft stores and such on their property!)

Was God speaking to me through this story? The timing was astonishing! Maybe it was a sign. If so, God will surely give me peace. Our granddaughter is good at painting rustic signs. I can just see one with "Gregory's Egg-ery" or some such slogan in my future!

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