Back when I kept chickens it was part of the daily pattern to feed them. It is a charming experience to satisfy the needs of a dozen fluffy birds, with nothing more than grain and corn cobs. I adored the sensation of having them trust me, following where I walked, or in the case of a golden hen named Toffee flying to my shoulder. They came to believe that I had their best interests at heart, and would protect them from foxes. I don't think worrying was part of their disposition. The bald truth is I did not always succeed, as mama vixen are wily in the spring as they hunt for their pups. 

 

A friend mentioned that the part of our brain that makes decisions is called the thalamus. There is respite in waking up to the same routine, being comfortable with how September plays out. We can reserve mental acumen for following through, without using it all up before we even begin. 

 

In these months of relentless reevaluation, our brains are taxed. There is no such pattern in place, and our thalamuses are overheating. The side effects can be exhaustion, irritability, confusion. 

 

There are ways I can be like that flock clucking over corn. It is possible to look for and find the ways God is indeed providing for all of us. Even that moment of innocence can be an oasis in a terrain that has many sharp teeth. 

 

"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, How often I wanted to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were willing!" 

-Matthew 23