I have more than my share of Silkies. We have had a dozen hatch in the last two weeks, some under their mama and others in the incubator. Often it happens in the dark away from prying eyes. But the other day the tiny bird was chirping loudly in the effort to escape, and a friend and I came to watch. I found out you cannot use your camera as both a video camera
and a flashlight, so we split the work between us.
The egg wiggled. Small bits of shell came flaking off. More chirping. Silence, as he or she lay exhausted from the exertion. Other people in the house were fixing breakfast, and rotating laundry, but the two of us could not walk away from the incubator. I witnessed the raw urge for freedom, and it took great willpower not to intervene. I could of course open the lid and pick away the shell easily. Yet
something deep within me held me back.
My friend said it this way.
Watching a baby chick hatch has been rather illuminating for me. As Lori and I patiently waited for the chick to hatch, we began to pray and infuse the space with loving thoughts. We spent a while simply encouraging this new life to break free from the constraints of that egg shell. I found myself fighting the urge to help the struggling chick; thoughts of opening the
egg for it came to mind. But then I was reminded of our relationship to the Lord. He is constantly with us, encouraging us, praying for us and filling our life with his love. Has he ever had the urge to just relinquish our struggles? After a good long while, the chick broke free of the shell, in complete freedom, and grew stronger. We are constantly faced with obstacles that bring into question the Lord’s intentions or mere presence with us. Perhaps, like Lori and I with the chick, he loves us
enough to sustain our freedom to grow with adversity. If we were to crack that egg open, the chick might not have had the strength to survive the coming days.
There are people I love who have been flattened by sickness this spring. God is a God of healing and I wondered why He would not intervene. But perhaps they are, in their weakness, growing stronger. Another friend has been through enormous pain in her marriage. Yet her love is exponentially more
robust than it was six months ago.
It felt like a long time for the bird to emerge. Maybe ten minutes. Not an exorbitant price to pay for freedom.
Maybe two months of illness, or nine of rebuilding will in the end be worth it too. I pray so.
