Concerning Chickens and God and Bold Adventures

Chickens love bananas. At least MY chickens do. And how did I gain this precious pearl of wisdom? I got it in a moment of inspiration in my kitchen. Then I walked up to the barn and fed them a banana. And they loved it!



Kirkhaven chickens love bananas so much that they will run across the meadow when they see me coming. Have you ever seen a chicken run? It is either hilarious or endearing or a scientific anomaly, depending upon your perspective. Neck stuck waaay out front to enhance the forward motion . . . feet pedaling frantically behind for traction . . . wings poised for flutter-flapping if extra momentum is needed. And if I call them with my patented “chicken call” . . . chick-CHICK-eeeeees (short pause) COME ON . . . they burst into supersonic scurry. It makes me laugh. Every time.


I feel quite sure that if I Googled “chicken treats,” bananas would top the list. Of course, other keepers of farm fowl might surely express other opinions about the chicken palate. And there would probably be some old farmer who would insist that chickens don’t even need treats. But I could, without a doubt, copy and paste some kind of “chickens love bananas” quote from a totally respected source into any intellectual essay I would write about chicken living.


I can state that chickens love bananas with complete confidence. And I can be assured that I am right because others agree with me. And my own life experiences totally back up such a truth. Chickens love bananas. Yours should too. All good farmers feed their chickens bananas.


THIS, my friends, is how heretical teachings creep into the Christian community.


First there is the moment of inspiration . . . revelation.
Then comes the experiential confirmation.
Next the “truth” is sealed with corroborating evidence such as the opinions and experiences of others.
And finally, people are subtly lulled into revelation discipleship by morphing it into a moral imperative.


It happens so very easily. People are looking for inspiration. People are drawn to a supportive, loving community where they can find like-mindedness and like-heartedness. And in a world where tragedy is all too common, people need leaders who are strong and have answers and are passionate.


That’s how cults are born. And that’s how well-meaning churches can get off on a religious tangent. And that’s how precious believers can become confused about Christian living.


The other day I asked my husband, “Exactly what did Jesus purchase for believers at the cross? What does salvation mean for us on a day-to-day basis, here on earth, before the “going to heaven” thing?” This wasn’t a flippant question. I was not looking for a pat answer.


My husband paused for a minute. He knew where the question had come from. A dear friend of ours had just lost their daughter to cancer . . . after years of praying for her healing. Another friend of ours had a daughter who had recently attempted suicide . . . a precious, sweet child who loved the Lord and served Him wholeheartedly. Our own household has been broken and torn from estranged relationships with family members who reject us.


He could have given me an easy answer:
God purchased our freedom from demonic oppression
or our forgiveness of sins
or our health of body, soul, and spirit
or the prosperity to meet all of our physical and financial needs
or the ability to receive revelations into the glories of His grace
or all of the above.


But my husband didn’t say any of that.


He simply said, “God purchased me. All of me. The good and the bad. I belong to Him now. Whatever He wants in my life . . . whatever that looks like . . . that’s what I want. ‘Therefore I urge you, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship. And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect.’ “ (scripture reference: Romans 12:1-2)


No need to start a new movement.
No need to revive an old one.
No need for any deeper revelation.
God bought me.
Now I am His.
His Biblical Truth is my truth.


This is servitude in its richest definition and exaltation in its realest form.

To live in
and with
and by
the mercies and grace and lovingkindness and supernatural enablement
of God.


It is a life that is both unfathomable and utterly simple.
It is a life that can only be pursued by faith as it is completely upheld by God Himself.
It is a life that requires the courage and the tenacity of a bold adventurer . . . and the humility and obedience of a faithful bond-slave.


All God.
And all of me.


I know that when I walk up to the barn this afternoon to bring my chickens their banana treat, they will come running. Would your chickens do the same?? I truly have no idea.


Forget about the bananas.
And the revelations of men.

What really matters is this:
Who owns you?
At what price have you been bought?

I love You, O LORD, my strength.

The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer,

My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge;

My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

I call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised,

And I am saved from my enemies.

Psalm 18:1-3

Beautiful Savior indeed.