The Miracle of the Prodigal Chicken

 

On the grounds of the palatial Waldron estate there live thirteen individuals who have Two Legs.  Seven have gone to school or will someday attend school, while the other six indulge in Fowl Language on a regular basis.

There might be other differences noted between those who make their abode in the Yard of Chickens and those who live in the House, but I will leave that for another Time and Place.

One day, it so chanced that my daughter, who has just turned seven, went to the Chicken Pen with the intention of Collecting Eggs.  She found some and then returned to our house.  Unfortunately, she Forgot to Shut the Door.

So it was, that an hour later I looked and behold, the door was Ajar.  On further investigation, only three chickens remained within the pen.

Now, we live with woods surrounding our home and there are many Critters that are glad for Chicken Dinners that they find when we do not pen our chickens up for the night.  So, my heart fell as I beheld our Chicken Pen only half full.

One chicken was found soon afterward in our yard.  Another chicken returned that afternoon and was permitted re-entrance to the Yard.  Of the sixth chicken there was no sign or feather seen of it.

All that afternoon I prayed for my Hen Neighbor to return by nightfall, but as the sun sank below the western horizon, I scanned the woods and saw no trace of her.  I felt a sense of discouragement, knowing that some racoon or fox in our woods would have a solitary feast that evening.

I had prayed quite a few times that afternoon for our Prodigal Chicken.  I gave it up that evening, knowing that she was a goner.

The next several days passed as usual.  The sun rose, although not with burning heat, for March in Virginia is anything but Toasty Warm.  I went daily to my Office. My children also went daily to their Institution of Lower Learning.

Then, five days later, my children discovered hiding under an outbuilding, a hen that resembled greatly our recently departed chicken.  She had no desire to come into the open air, but when she finally emerged, she was found to be no ghost chicken returned to warn us of some coming danger, but a flesh and blood hen, who was Hale and Hearty.

Whether she was there the whole time or only just returned because she missed us so much, I cannot tell.  Either way, it seems to me to be a miracle.

Matthew 18:12-14 says, "How think ye?  If a man have an hundred sheep, and one of them be gone astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and goeth into the mountains, and seeketh that which is gone astray?  And if so be that he find it, verily I say unto you, he rejoiceth more of that sheep than of the ninety and nine which went not astray.  Even so it is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish."

I am no shepherd, nor does my living depend on the presence and vitality of my chickens.  Yet, my heart rejoiced greatly when the Lost Chicken was found.

I understood a little better my Heavenly Father.  His heart yearns for His children who are roaming afar, though they do not heed His voice.

It is not that He does not care for those of us who are within the fold.  He loves us greatly, but His heart breaks for those who are lost and prey for the Evil One.

His love is great and He cares for each one us, and welcomes us home.  For His excitement at the return of a sinner is even greater, if it were possible, than my joy at welcoming my Prodigal Hen back home.