Fractured Eggs

A few weeks ago as I was stepping out of the van onto the grass just beside my carport and underneath the tree, I noticed a beautiful bird's egg. It was almost blue with tiny brown speckles all over it. I bent down for a closer view. What I loved most was that it was still slightly hinged. I carefully picked up the egg and the final synapse that held the egg together gave way. I marveled at it's size and fragility. I said aloud, "My word, I've got rhinestones on my shoes bigger than you are, Little Egg!"

I looked up in the tree. I could hear the squawks of the bird who no longer needed that home. I found myself transported into a child's world instantly. I wanted to show. And tell. And I did. I took it to lunch and showed it to my daughter and my 9 year old friends and their teachers. (Sidebar: There's always a germ phobic teacher who is just convinced that this one small, something will kill her students! I wasn't gonna let HER look smother my enthusiasm.)  It lost a few more pieces, but once home I carefully placed my treasure in a fake nest I had bought at some warehouse sale months ago. The fake eggs, hot glued to the nest, that originally looked quite authentic, were poor imposters when resting against the real egg, cracked as it was.

I placed it as the centerpiece on my dining room table. I have enjoyed knowing I was paying attention and got to participate in one small part of God's creation. Much more it was a reminder of God's goodness and His tender mercies.

I heard God's voice that day, so clearly. "How much more do I care about you, Love?" (Matthew 6:26)

Fast forward to this past Saturday. Annie Beth, Emma, and I were sitting down with our late dinner sacks of Sonic at the dining room table. Emma, a lover of small things too, assumed the eggs were all fake. She enthusiastically grabbed the tiny egg. With that rather innocent move, she crushed my treasure into hundreds of pieces--the speckles no longer even discernible.

"OOOOOOO Emma!!! You ruined my egg. I loved that egg!", I whined.  It was too late to correct the edge in my voice and the shame I'd shoved into her lap. I tried, nevertheless, to adjust my response and try to pick up the more important shattered pieces of my niece's esteem and heart. She waited until she sensed her "grown aunt" was over her pouting and apologized. I apologized as well for my terrible response.

Today as I walked along a favorite portion of my path, I noticed another broken bird's egg. Same variety. "How great! I'll carry this home and place it in my nest! I'll call Emma and tell her that I found the perfect replacement. This will be a teachable moment." I was still 30 minutes away from home.

I was aware of the fragility of that egg--all too aware of what the wrong move of even a loving, small hand can do to that shell. My focus was on not jarring my large hand. When I crossed a rather busy street I was concentrating on the safety of my egg. The same hand that protected my egg, could also destroy it. All at once the rare June breeze, which I'd thanked God for so many times already, carried that egg out of my hand and it landed on the hot pavement. Because of traffic, I was unable a mere attempt at saving it. It was gone.

I hadn't considered the other risks to my egg. I let it go and asked God to teach me.

He reminded me that the context of His Word spoken to me all those weeks ago was about daily needs: Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Matthew 6:26. 


There was nothing particularly sacred about that first fragile remnant of a former life I found last Spring. It was a sacred moment, though, because God spoke to me and fed me with it that day. He let me know that I am loved and valued and treasured by Him in ways that I cannot fathom. It's a great thing to be reminded of His daily blessings and the food He used to nourish my soul. My little altar on my black dining room table was not a pagan offering. When I shamed a child that I love so dearly because she ruined my treasure, it had become a form of idolatry--unintentionally. How grateful I am that God pointed that out to me. And today, I know that the lesson of the today's fragile egg is an entirely different message than the first. (AND another blog entry.) 


Give us our Daily bread.....Thanks for the reminder, Lord.