I Am My Chicken

I haven't gathered an egg in a week. I don't know what my little flock of hens has up their sleeves, but for one thing: Patty Pearl is going to hatch whatever she is sitting on, or die trying. The other two hens have taken up another hidden nest that I have yet to find.

It takes 21 days for an egg to hatch and by my guess, we are approximately half way through. In the past 10 or so days, I have seen Patty off her nest one time only. She is being very diligent about this. Which, I guess, is a good thing. The only negative is that whenever I peek in the coop to see how she is fairing (which I do daily much to her annoyance), she makes this weird squawking noise and then the rooster comes and drop-kicks me.  He is better than a watch dog, let me tell you. I might start keeping hens in the house as protection against burglars. 

It could be just the moments when I am invading her space, or it could be the fact that she doesn't have a proper wooden nesting box and has to lay eggs in a five gallon bucket, but I've noticed that Patty Pearl has a decidedly sour expression on her face every time I see her. Yesterday I took Patty some grapes, she loves grapes. As I was tucking them into her bucket (this would be moments before she does her signal squawk and I get karate chopped from behind), I realized that she has the same expression on her face that I have felt on mine time and again! I realized, I am my chicken! 

Does this look like the face of an expectant mother-to-be? 

Oh, I'm doing my duty. Diligently wiping noses or bottoms, whichever is running worse, dressing my kids in clean, warm clothes, bathing them, feeding them, reading books and whatever else, but by my expression, you'd think I was being tortured. Ok, granted, pushing kids on the swing for hours on end is a form of torture and is an exception, but I think you can see where I am headed. 

Attitude is everything. 

There is a verse in James that says if you lack wisdom, then you should ask God for some and He gives generously. (my paraphrase of James 1:5) I've decided that I can also apply that to joy, and to satisfaction, and to fulfillment in the daily life of a mom who often feels bored, out of sorts and ready to do something different. And every single time I've asked, I've found it given to me in an endless stream of satisfaction. 

In another part of James (James 4:6a)  I found another little gem, just a few words, not even a complete thought nor the entire verse that makes me think of a fragrant spring morning, all green and gold. "But He gives us more grace..." Isn't that beautiful? I see a large, wide field green with life, and a Gardener whose harvest is never finished. 

But He gives us more grace out of His endless supply. Take hold to that, friends. Ask for more, He will never run out!