The Two-Headed Chicken

It was a warm Monday eve, west of Lahaina town,

We’d just downed penne pasta, baked and golden brown.

As we returned to our ride, my son tossed an odd look,

Was his Lyme acting up, or had he been poisoned by the cook?

My eyes met his gaze, across the top of our car,

In the foreground a sight, something fowl, quite bizarre.

At the end of a trail, formed with black and white poop,

Sat a two-headed chicken, in a makeshift bird coop!

“Oh my!” said Lil Jan, “What on earth shall we do?”

“The thing has two heads, four claws, and a coo.”

“Let’s drive off,” said I, “The wind will fix this,”

“60 miles per hour, will end this bird bliss!”

“Oh no!” said my Jan, “That’s cruel, inhumane.”

“This two-headed bird, has suffered enough shame.”

“Put it in the trunk,” said Jas on a hunch.

“We can bring it to the parsonage and have nuggets for lunch.”

“Oh no!” said Rach, as she finished her Wordle,

“This fowl is quite rare, like that giant sea turtle.”

“We could sell it,” I declared, as the bird started a cower,

“Let’s go to KFC, is it open this hour?”

With time running out, Rachel spotted some fescue,

It was time to take charge, it was time for a rescue.

She approached the two heads, and reached for its beaks,

I jumped into the car, “That thing is a freak!”

“Be careful now, Rach,” said Jas under his breath,

“One false move and you’ll get pecked to death.”

“Stand back,” Rachel said, slowing her pace,

“If we startle this fowl, we’ll get egg on our face.”

She calmly reached out, gently cradled the bird,

Its two heads bobbing, a sight, quite absurd.

Rach spoke to the bird, as if it were a baby,

“You’re not a freak, just a two-headed lady.”

She placed the bird in the grass, with a tear in her eye,

The sweetest rescue ever, I’m not gonna lie.

“I hope you are happy; I hope you find purpose,”

“And if things don’t work out, there’s always the circus.”

The Two-Headed Chicken

Loading

Just Do It

On our way from the airport to the parsonage yesterday, I asked my friend Carl about projects needing done during our month in Maui. He thought for a moment and said, “If you see something that needs done, just do it.”

Hmmm.

I would have preferred, “Take out the garbage weekly.” Or “Offer an invitation at the end of your sermons.” Or “Brush your teeth regularly.” I also prefer when my wife tells me “The bed could be made” or “The grass is getting a little high.”

Doing what we’re told to do is FAR easier than doing what needs to be done. It takes less energy. Less perceptiveness. Less creativity. Carl, whether intentional or not, was challenging me to up my game—to raise the bar. I wish I hadn’t asked.

Of course, he didn’t invent “Just do it.” I think he got it from the suits at Nike. They may have gotten it from God, who may have said it to a puzzled Noah after telling him to build an ark. Yes, God gave Noah many specific instructions on how to build the floating container. 

But my concern here is not doing what we’re told. That’s a good lesson for the 1st graders I occasionally teach. My concern is seeing something that needs done and just doing it. That’s graduate level Christianity. That’s our challenge on Maui, and that’s my challenge to you.

If the old man is hungry, feed him.

If the child needs clothes, clothe her.

If a single mom needs groceries, buy them.

If a jobless dad can’t pay a bill, pay it.

If students need mentoring, mentor them.

If a poor person in a foreign country needs a home, go build it.

If the Walmart checkout clerk needs a smile and compliment, offer them.

If a flood-ravaged home needs mud removed, remove it.

If the parents of a special-needs child need a break, provide it.

If the widow need encouraging, visit her.

If prisoners need hope, bring it to them.

If someone hasn’t met Jesus, introduce them.

Having to be reminded to take out the trash or make your bed is cute in your first month of earning a childhood allowance. Being told to “rinse the ‘hars’ out of the tub”—as my wife once put it—is funny in the first week of marriage. However, only doing what one is told to do grows tiresome. In matters of faith, it reflects spiritual immaturity.

The world doesn’t need more ideas. My restless mind pumps out ideas daily—the good, feasible ones are rare and mostly ineffectual. The world doesn’t need more critics. Yes, we know you would have done it a better way. The world doesn’t need more sideline observers. Change happens in the arena.

No, what the world needs are more doers—more Christians in the game. More Christians who have been taken hostage by James 1:27, which reads, “Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.”

Today, I hope we make our beds, take out the trash, and mow the grass. Let’s do what we’re told. And then, I hope God gives us the eyes to see “something that needs done” and the courage to “just do it.”

Loading