Of Dogs, Chickens, and the Price of the Gospel

Monday evening I was relaxing with my family and contemplating the upcoming opportunity to check the inside of my eyelids for holes. Suddenly my eldest daughter shrieked “There’s a dog out there with a chicken in it’s mouth!” or something roughly equivalent. That was particularly disheartening because we are in the midst of raising chickens for the first time ever. I ran outside and brandished the closest conceivable weapon: a shovel which had been leaning against the apple tree. Chasing the dogs away we began to survey the damage. A series of our chickens had been eatencompletely by these beasts and a few more lay strewn about our yard in various macabre positions. Further detail isn’t necessary. Suffice it to say that once the Dogs had satisfied their hunger they merely desired to satisfy their outright glee at killing my chickens. Not a live chicken was in sight and I prepped the kids for the end of the chicken raising experiment and sent the youngest inside. Aftercleaning up the mess I got in the car with my wife and prayed. I knew who’s dogs they were and I knew that I was upset enough to do and say something that could easily build a wall between the young couple that owned the dogs and the gospel of Jesus Christ. God had burdened my heart […]