>> Thursday, November 7, 2013
A folktale handed down through the years is of an Indian who found an eagle’s egg. Unable to find the nest it came from, he slipped the egg in the nest of a prairie chicken. When the eggs hatched, out came several chickens and one eagle.
But it didn’t know it was an eagle.
So it scratched in the dirt, pecked for seeds and fluttered its wings to fly a few feet above the ground. Occasionally it would raise its head, spot an eagle soaring high in the sky and wonder what that would feel like.
But it was a chicken, so it would lower its head and return to pecking in the dirt…never delighting in that glorious feeling.
I grew up in a chicken pen.
Due to a combination of older age, too many children and religion, my mother filled my head with rules and judgments that kept me scratching in the dirt and eating seeds. At school I would see a group of children…laughing and playing together…and wonder what that would feel like.
But I was an obedient daughter and a Christian, so I would sit alone. It was my lot in life to stay true to God. There would be no soaring for me.
How grateful I am for the people in my life that saw my eagle’s wings and asked questions about why I wasn’t using them. What a surprise and delight to discover God had endowed me with the capability to soar.
“But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40:31 (NLT)