During this time of year we incubate duck and chicken eggs, and then raise them up after they have hatched. There’s a definite appeal to baby poultry, a harmony to their peepings, and a beauty in their softness, before their downyness turns into real feathers. With our ducks, we raise them inside, with a doorway open during the day to an outside pen. They will hardly ever leave the inside pen for the outside world, even though that’s where the sunlight, bugs, and water are. We have to push them out the door the first few times, and even then they will try to turn and come back in. Why?–because they are afraid of the unknown, of change, even though it is a movement toward the very nature of what they are, of what they wish to be. What did I learn from the ducks? That it’s normal to be fearful, to resist change. But by facing our fears we will reach the sunshine and the water. We may turn and run back in a time or two {or three}, but with patience, with persistence, with God’s pushing us out the door, we may feel some of the beauty and harmony that is our true nature.
