The Real Egg

This August will mark our 2nd anniversary of farm living. Having lived in the same house in the same small town and then moving to the ultra urban environment of Portland for a 13 year stint does not adequately prepare one for the experience of life on a farm. Last Spring, I decided that all small farms are not complete without the presence of chickens. So, like any knowledgeable city person, I went to the store to buy some. I ended up at our local feed and ranch supply store. I told the nice young man behind the counter that I wanted to buy some chicks, to which he replied, "what kind?" I stood there for a moment, perplexed. Thinking to myself...What kind? The kind that lay eggs! I answered back, "what kind do you have?" For about five minutes I was inundated with more information about chickens than I ever cared to know. After careful consideration, of about 45 seconds, I decided to buy five baby chicks from the Barred Rock variety. (Don't ask me why they are named that I didn't retain that information.) They were about 2 1/2 inches high mostly comprised of black and grey fuzz. I decided to go with five because that's how many kids I have and I figured they could each name
one. We set up the heat lamp, feed, water and waited. And waited. And waited. They grew and grew and after several months they looked like chickens. Although, it became very apparent that naming them was an exercise in futility. (To this day, you can't tell them apart!) Eventually, we built a nice pen for them complete with lovely nesting boxes in the hopes that they would get inspired to start, doing what they were supposed to do, lay eggs. It was like Christmas Day, every day, at our place. Every morning I would go out and look in their boxes hoping to see an egg. Day after day, my hopes, dashed. My Dad, thought that providing a visual aid might help. He placed a few white golf balls in a couple of the boxes. Now, keep in mind, that whenever I would visited my local feed store, I would ask them about my chickens and bring up the possibility that they were defective. To which, I was assured that they would start laying, eventually. Finally, that much anticipated blessed day arrived, we got an egg! I carefully carried it into the house (after all five children had to look at, hold it and smell it.) After a few days, I had enough eggs to cook up and eat. I remember very vividly the first time I cracked those eggs and put them into a pan. The yolks were thick and BRIGHT yellow. I am talking....florescesnt! I proceeded to scramble those eggs, wondering the whole time, if they were safe to eat because they were so o-r-a-n-g-e- in color! Let me tell you, every shred of skepticism and doubt were erased with that first bite! Farm fresh eggs have such flavor! There is no comparison! Farm fresh eggs have such flavor that I am amazed that the stores still sell "store bought" eggs! The secret must not be out. Otherwise, there would be revolts and protests staged in our grocery aisles! The average consumer would never settle for such widely accepted counterfeits if only they knew the truth. How many of us go through life believing in counterfeits that have been passed off as the real thing? Psalm 34:8 says, "taste and see that the Lord is good." God wants us to give him a try. "Taste" him and see how he measures up to what the world has to offer. The world offers only empty promises, fakes, that in the end only lead to disappointment and want. Just like I discovered the truth about "real" eggs I hope you experience the real Creator God in your life. By the way, I am planning on buying some more chickens this Spring. If you want some good eggs, look me up...I 'ld love to share. Afterall, as my Dad once noted, "who knew nightcrawlers tasted so good, run through a chicken?"

Lorlee