When we got some chickens and baby-stepped into the world of farming, I knew I shouldn’t bond with those birds. So I didn’t, which really wasn’t hard since chickens seem to mostly peck and scratch and poop everywhere. They’re not very nice to each other, and even less nice to the rest of us.
But I have to admit I was a little sad when two of our chickens were killed within the span of a week. We’re not sure what kind of critter got them. Forensic evidence found at the crime scene proved inconclusive. (Yes, I do watch too many crime shows.)
Joe discovered the first victim the morning after we returned from a trip to California. Nothing like a grisly murder in your backyard to dampen the happy buzz of time with adorable grandkids.
We felt a little guilty because we should have known one of the chickens wasn’t safely in the chicken house on the night of the crime. You see, we have a video camera inside our chicken house so we can watch the chickens on our phones. (Oh yes, I did too just write that.)
That, my friends, is a column begging to be written on another day. For now, let me just say the camera was my husband’s idea. I thought it was nuts until I realized the chicken-cam is useful for taking “roll” after the chickens go inside to roost every evening.
It’s really important for our chickens to go in when it gets dark because once the door to the chicken house closes, it stays closed until dawn. The door is controlled by a light sensor.
And guess whose idea it was to install that fancy automatic door? If you guessed “not Mary Ann’s,” you are correct. This is what happens when a computer guy decides to raise chickens.
But back to our chicken murder mystery. Our theory is that the first victim, the spunkiest hen of the bunch, shilly-shallied around that evening and didn’t get inside before the door closed.
Having spent 12 hours in airports, planes and cars that day, we just didn’t think about looking in on the chickens when we got home around midnight.
When Joe found the dead hen the next morning, it seemed like she’d probably been killed the night before. Dawdling outside too long was a fatal mistake.
Never one to let some good drama go to waste, here’s the lesson I gleaned from this: getting in before dark can literally be a matter of life-or-death.
According to the Bible, we’ve been living in the “last days” of this world for 2,000 years. That means we may now be in the very last of the last days.
One of these days, perhaps sooner than we think, the door to heaven is going to close and those outside will be stranded in darkness, where Jesus said there will be eternal “weeping and gnashing of teeth.”
I’ve occasionally wept and gnashed my teeth for very short periods of time, and it’s definitely not something I can stand to think about doing FOREVER.
Thankfully, I don’t have to because God provided a way for us to get “in the house” before it’s too late—by placing our faith in His Son, Jesus Christ.
“He who believes in the Son has eternal life; but he who does not obey the Son will not see life, but the wrath of God abides on him,” Jesus said (John 3:36).
It breaks my heart to know that multitudes will make the tragic mistake of dawdling out in the darkness too long, wrongly assuming they can slip in at the last moment when the door starts to close.
Why risk it? Now’s the time to get in the house.