A young chicken laments to God...
God, I will spend my every day and every night complaining to You. And at times, I might even be so mad at You that I'll scold You.
You have made me the least of all birds, with wings that cannot take me as high as the soaring Eagles, with legs too short to run fast like the Emus, with such plain-coloured feathers that look like a complete disgrace beside the Peacocks, a shame before the splendid colours of the Lories.
You have made my eggs fragile while the ostrich's can withstand the weight of a full grown man. My feet cannot take me gracefully across the waters like the swans or even my closer counterparts - the Ducks. You have given me no long beaks to savour the sweetness of nectar nor a hook to tear the meat of a fresh catch. No intelligence and good vocals to mimic sounds and speak like a Parrot or to sing like the Nightingale.
No sharp vision to hunt in the night like the Owls, no flippers to shoot me through the ocean waters like the Penguins. I am without the elegance of the Flamingo and even the Sparrow's chirp that adds a pleasant music to a prayer space reminds me of my crow that sounds like Your creation-gone-wrong.
You have indeed made me the least of all birds and if that is not enough, my kind has become Man's daily diet. And even this is not enough to satisfy Your cruel desires for You have given Man the freedom to abuse me and rob me of my dignity. They cage me up in such a space they would call inhumane if they were similarly treated. They take away all my eggs and demand of me to grow faster than I can. They want my meat to be thick for the platter and when I cannot deliver to their expectations, they force into me the chemicals that make my body no longer what it should be. When the bird flu breaks out, they kill my family without blinking their eyes, which look upon me as a terror just because I am not on the brink of extinction. Can't their intelligence find me a cure instead?
How can I then stand in Your presence to praise You? How can I join with all of creation to sing Your praise and thanksgiving? Wasn't it You who caused me to be the least since You fashioned me this way? No, I cannot acknowledge Your goodness, I will not bow down before You.
God the Father looked at the young chicken with tenderness and love, picked him up and placed him in His arms. Then, He said to the chicken...
My little one, I have not created you to be any lesser than these others. What you perceive as inferior are not inferior in my eyes but are unique and special.
Your feet that scratch the earth for food loosens the soil for air and water to enter easily. The plants are thankful to you. Your crow is not my masterpiece-gone-wrong but a deliberate addition to the vast sounds of nature, announcing the hope of a new morn.
I have made all things good. Yes, you too have been made good because in your nothingness, I have made you humble. If you have nothing to boast about yourself, only then can you boast about Me. And then, I will be your pride. You can walk with your head held up for I breathed life into you only because I saw that you are beautiful and worthy to be a part of my creation.
You are not my failure and I have not failed you either. You have been chosen to nourish Man's bodies with your own, and their failure to respect you does not make you any less special and dignified. It is not your failure but theirs.
So, little one, be who you are and take your eyes off the other birds that remind you of who you are not. You are not made to be like the others. You are made to be you. Be the best in all you are made to be because to live to your fullest potential is the most beautiful song of praise and thanksgiving to the One who gave you the gift of that potential. You shall sing not with your voice but with your whole life.
Were there times you felt inferior and that God seemed to lavish His love and abundance upon others more than upon you? What is He saying to you?
inspirations on a motorbike ride around a village and a 2-seconds glimpse of a kampong chicken trying to fly up onto a higher ground