HOW Did the Chicken Cross the Road?
Q: Why did the chicken cross the road?
All together now…
A: To get to the other side.
Okay, so I know the chicken crossed the road. Or at least I assume and hope she did.
But here’s what I wonder… Assuming the chicken did, in fact, cross the road, how did she get to the other side?
Throughout my life, I’ve been privileged to be a student of several “chickens”. In the process of this road crossing, many times the choices they’ve made have resulted in disappointment. Other times, they’ve had life-altering consequences.
And not for lack of wise counsel, let me tell you.
In some cases, feeling rather like the father of the iconic prodigal son (Luke 15), I’ve shaded my eyes and squinted at these chickens from the other side of the road while they’ve either proudly strutted over or limped along. But they’ve made it.
For me, the question isn’t, ‘Why did the chicken cross the road?’, but how?
I may wave a particular chicken over, instructing her to high step across the road it in a straight line. Why? ‘Cause the straight and narrow way leads to life, the path with the least amount of risk and trouble. Sadly, I may find she’s wandered out of my line of vision and traveled to who knows where.
Eventually, the chicken might emerge again, make her final crossing and stand safely beside me. But the chicken will have crossed her way, in her time, employing her own method and unique style.
While I may wag a crooked claw and squawk, ‘Listen to me chicken, just cross the road from here to there and be done with it, blessed and unharmed’, some chickens won’t listen.
Raising the decibels of the squawking is futile, chases the chicken farther away.
Do I believe my ‘Point A to Point B’, genius map is the only right way to cross the road?
What if this chicken steps into the road, goes down the street a pace of two, gets injured, goes to a party, races around the block, is detained by the law for a bit, stops for a bite to eat, makes bad chicken friends along the way, but eventually finds her way across?
Who am I to say exactly how the chicken is supposed to cross? Won’t God use their crooked or meandering steps? Is it so awful if the chicken arrives on the other side of the road with scratches and bandages?
Because that scratched chicken has a story that begs to be told and might redirect the course of other wandering chickens.
Jesus said, “I am the Road, also the Truth, also the life.
No one gets to the Father apart from me.
However a particular chicken chooses to cross the Road, they can’t circumvent the cross. Period.
The Lord has His hand on all the chickens in my life. He’s set within their hearts a need to cross the road, and He will oversee them on their journey.
Until that day, I’ll be waiting on the other side with my chicken knees bent to the curb, praying expectantly for the chicken’s arrival.