Thoughts from Megan...

Every morning one of the first things I see is the Camper Garden. My eyes are often drawn to the compost bin, where in bright colors these words are painted: “The Earth is the Lord’s and everything in it.” A verse from the Psalms that I am trying to take to heart. I am learning to appreciate God’s creatures, seeing them through new eyes as I work with the earth. Thanking spiders instead of crushing them. Getting excited about worms instead of squealing in horror. Yes, the Earth is the Lord’s and everything in it.

But that rooster? I don’t think God had gathered eggs yet when he looked at all creation and said that it was good. I will admit it, free from the euphemistic “strongly dislike”, I hate that rooster. On my first day at the farm nearly three weeks ago, I was warned that he wasn’t so friendly, so I should bring a big stick with me whenever I enter the pen. The big stick seemed to be working just fine for awhile. That is until that one fateful day. I always keep an eye on the rooster, acutely aware of his distance from me. That particular day, he was crowing more than usual, so I was even more careful to watch him. I headed to fill the feeder, looking over my shoulder to see the rooster at the other end of the pen. Relieved, I continued pouring the feed.  When I finished, I gathered the eggs and took my usual exit, a step over the nearest fencing. My back turned away from the chickens, eggs and stick in hand, I walked at a leisurely pace. The rooster, on the other hand, was not. He was running, more like charging at me, which I didn’t notice until he was about three feet away. When I turned at the last minute and caught him sneaking up, I screamed at him, poking my stick forward “Go away, I’m not afraid of you.” Roosters have built in lie detectors. He continued onward. At this point I basically leaped over the fencing, getting my foot caught. Maybe the rooster had mercy on me; maybe he just realized I had given him his lunch. Whatever the reason, he decided he was no longer interested in me. I was safe. That sneaky rooster, I thought to myself. Ok, maybe I cried a little.

But other things have been sneaking up on me too. Things I don’t want to scare off with a stick. I turn around and the asparagus has grown four inches, poking up valiantly from the ground. Overnight a tree bursts into bloom and I decide that pink is my new favorite color. Two lambs are born, skipping around as they discover what their legs can do. A new community embraces me with ease. I receive these surprises with gratitude and delight. I have a steady hopefulness about being at Chestnut Ridge. I think my time serving as an intern and entering this community will bring much joy and growth, and I hope not just for me. Occasionally, I may get caught in a fence, experiencing loneliness, uncertainty, or fatigue. I may have moments of fragility, when my strength and confidence seem to fail me. I hope to remind myself to be gentle, to get up, and even let myself cry if I need to. Perhaps I will find that I have no enemies here, not even the rooster. That even he is my teacher, pressing me on to be courageous and trusting. The Earth is the Lord’s and everything in it. We belong to a loving presence that is responsible for all that is good. I have a feeling the rooster is included.

*Megan is serving 10 months as the Community Farm intern at Chestnut Ridge - living, working, and worshipping in intentional Christian community.*