Fingerprints on Friday

A yard full of chickens really isn't one of my favorite things to talk about, but these particular ones live very close to me so I get to see and hear them quite often.  There is a particular rooster that lives among them...I call him "Rusty" as his call sounds rather like an old timer clearing his rusty pipes, very coarse sounding, yet very commanding.  Before they finished building their hen house and fenced in the yard, these chickens were all over the place.  Talk about free range, they certainly had it for a while, at least.  Rusty acted as more of a herding dog, making sure none of the hens ever got run over while they decided to chat in the middle of the road.  He would sound off whenever anyone came down our road, and some days this was so often, I started thinking this rooster thinks he's a dog.  He would sound off before any of the actual dogs joined in to warn of something coming our way.  And stand courageously beside the road, in front of all the hens, until the danger had passed by.  He also seems to like to follow the farmer around and gives him the latest report of the day.  These chickens are organized, I tell you...and they are all fingerprints of God.

I Corinthians 16:13
Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be men of courage; be strong.