“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning. He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him! In everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” (James 1:17; Romans 8:32; Matthew 7:11; I Thessalonians 5:18)

I woke up this morning with a bad attitude. A I’m-tired-of-my-life-poor-me attitude. A I-wish-I-had-a-maid-and-a-cook-and-a-gardner-doggonit! attitude. A why-can’t-my-life-be-like-Queen-Elizabeth’s? attitude. You get the picture? Yup. I had a bad attitude. Give it up to God, our gentle, patient, loving Father, for not striking me dead on the spot; instead, he suggested I take a walk around our property. Oh, and take your gratitude journal with you, He said.

The first thing I did was to let the girls out. I'm thankful for chickens. They were climbing over each other to be the first to fly out of their imprisonment. A very vocal bunch fled captivity into freedom, either complaining that I hadn’t let them out sooner or thanking me for releasing them. I’m not sure which. I haven’t had them long enough to learn their language. I’m sure that will come in time, right?

Within seconds they began to look for food, pecking in grass, in dirt, in mulch, in compost, and it dawned on me that these creatures instinctively expect good. They didn’t timidly exit the run and then stand there looking pitifully around wondering if there was anything good to be found. They intuitively knew it was there. They just had to look for it.

Humility comes when you learn valuable lessons from poultry. God reminded me, via the chickens, that He is the giver of good gifts. I just need to open my physical and spiritual eyes and see those gifts. They’re all around me. Goodness abounds. The answer to my discontent is just under that blade of grass. Peace and contentment are a peck away.

I filled a page in my gratitude journal this morning.

Conie