A Night Without Chickens

We really thought we would be home earlier. But, no worries, they would just go into the coop when it turned dark. When we had left to share dinner with out-of-town relatives earlier in the evening, we had left the puppy on the porch and the hens outside still "grazing". They always go back into the coop at dusk and then we close them up for the night and let the puppy run more before bedtime. Tonight we were late. It had been completely dark for over 2 hours when we got home to find out that somehow the doors to the coop were closed - both of them. The hens had left lots of "signs" just outside both doors to show us they had faithfully waited to get in. Now they were nowhere in sight. All eight - including the two chicks we had hatched ourselves - were gone. No sight of them and the only sound we could hear anywhere was the barking of a stray fox at the bottom of the pecan orchard. Ugghhh. Ugly visions ran through my head and ugly words spewed from my mouth. WHO did not make sure the doors were propped open? WHO didn't double-check? WHO did this??! My children cringed in fear of my rant. As I tucked them in shortly afterward, I was overcome with guilt and shame. WHO was me. They were children who had done what I told them earlier in the day - let out the chickens as always. WHO was me - that did not tell them to be sure the doors were propped. WHO was me - that did not double check. WHO was me visiting and forgetting my responsibilities at home until late into the evening. Second Uggghhh. Fortunately my children are better at one thing than I am - quickly and wholeheartedly forgiving. So we went to bed. But I didn't sleep well. It could have been the double espresso with dessert but it also was my guilt that kept me tossing and turning. First I felt guilty about getting so upset with my children and with what I imagined had probably already happened to the hens by now. (We could name our little plot "Fox and Hawk Hill" as it is very well populated that way!). Then my guilt shifted. Here I was tossing and turning over the fact that I had lost my cool - but my children and God had already forgiven me for it. I was guilty over what might have happened to the lost chickens - but I was helpless to do anything to change their fate. Then I really was convicted. Chickens will live a few years. They are God's creatures but they are just creatures that we try to care for. People live for eternity. In heaven or hell. And how many nights had I tossed and turned over the lost souls of my loved ones? How could I lose sleep over chickens and sleep soundly when there are those who are lost for all eternity?

My son had prayed, "God, keep the chickens safe but if they're not, we know you have a reason for them to be hurt. Maybe the fox was starving." Oh, the faith and trust of little ones!! The next morning they were all 8 on my side stoop perfectly safe. They've never been there before but it was as if God led them there waiting for us to rise and see. And I thought of how God desires ALL - from the oldest to youngest, fastest to slowest of us to be safe in HIS arms. And how HE wants us to trust Him whether things turn out like we want or not. But most of all I thought about God wants me to have a heart that is ready to lose sleep over the lost souls of men. Lord, help me to never forget the night without chickens.