This blog is a republish from June 18, 2018 of last year — Susan. We lost Susan this past Friday. I’ll miss her but I’m so, so grateful. The lessons Susan taught me will stay with my for a lifetime. Lessons the Lord taught me through a chicken.
SUSAN
You’d be surprised what you can learn from a chicken. Yep, a chicken. I’ve had laying hens for about a year now and I’m convinced you can learn all you need to know about life from them. Everything I Need to Know I Learned From a Chicken – not really, but sort of.
I have seven laying hens, different colors, different breeds, different sizes, different personalities (yes, chickens have personalities), even different egg colors – white, brown and blue. I started with eight but Esther ended up being Edward and had to go. Anyway, I have one named Susan. She’s a beauty. A Rhode Island Red with this deep rich red coat. She’s a handful.
As we were leaving for Church one Sunday, I glanced down at the barnyard. Susan had hopped out of the chicken pen and was wandering alone in our front field. We headed out.
After Church a quick check on “the girls” revealed Susan had not yet come back. I went on the hunt. It is not safe for a chicken to be out and about alone in our neck of the woods – predators. I walked through the field calling her – yes, she knows her name, making my chick-chick sounds. No answer. I walked through the barn – no answer. I was concerned. The search party (Livi and Tony) eventually located Susan inside the barn – she had been hanging out on the hay, alone. Susan was taking a minute. She had left the hustle and bustle – yes, of the chicken pen for a moment alone. The chicken pen is an active place, noisy — squawking, one is always bossing, pushing around, pecking, trying to nudge out another, always butting in line, talking over top of each other, constantly trying to establish the pecking order, stealing each other’s food, making a mess of the hen house, generally messing with each other’s minds. Sound familiar? Kind of like our lives, right?
Susan got fed up and made a getaway. Susan needed a minute. I completely understand where she was coming from. Don’t you? Sometimes we need to pull-a-Susan and take a minute. Runaway, get rid of all the noise in our lives – all the squawking, pushing and shoving, and get to a quiet place – we need to run to Jesus. We need a minute — sometimes two.
You see that’s exactly what Jesus did and we are to follow his example. Mark 1:35 tells us:
And in the morning, rising up a great while before day, he went out, and departed into a solitary place, and there prayed.
Jesus was in the thick of things – Jesus was the thick of things. He was a busy man. He was gathering His flock – calling His disciples, organizing, giving instruction, teaching the Good News, traveling from town to town healing bodies and souls. The more he taught and healed, the more people came to be taught and healed. In the midst of that hustle and bustle, Jesus needed a moment. He needed to be alone, without companions, away from the squawking, pushing, shoving, etc., to speak to God, His Father.
Jesus started his days by taking a minute in the morning. We do that too sometimes — take a morning moment. But do we often run to Jesus throughout our day, or do we just wait until the next morning to take another moment? Luke tells us in 5:15 that despite Jesus’ instructions, word of His power spread like wildfire and loads of people came to hear his message and to be healed. Hustle and bustle. Luke then goes on to tell us in verse 16: “But Jesus often withdrew to the wilderness for prayer.” It doesn’t say Jesus withdrew occasionally, just in the morning, or once a day, it says he “often” withdrew. Often, again and again, regularly, usually, repeatedly, consistently.
Paul tells us in Philippians 4 not to worry about anything but instead pray about everything. Take a moment – separate yourself from the life-craziness, the overdrive of this world – and lift your cares to Jesus. We are told if we do this – take a moment — we will experience God’s peace which is more wonderful than our minds can comprehend.
When we found Susan, she hopped off the hay bales and calmly walked back to her pen. She was refreshed. Susan’s escape lasted for a few hours. Our escapes may only last a few minutes but then we too can walk back to our pens, our jobs, our families, our laundry, our kids, our Churches, our communities, our lives – refreshed.
Yes, you can learn lessons from a chicken. Thanks, Susan.