Having Faith and Letting Go

This morning, I sit staring at an incubator holding a clutch of chicken eggs on the 20th day of incubation. Over the next three days they may hatch, or they may not. We kept them warm. Maintained the correct humidity level. Candled them and were reassured to see veins, and then a chick, developing inside.

But sitting here, I can’t help but be overwhelmed by the “what ifs”. What if we did something wrong? What if they won’t turn correctly in the egg? What if they won’t have enough air? What if they don’t hatch? What if….what if… what if….

Less than a month ago, on the night we moved our ducks outdoors, I was troubled by the same “what ifs”. What if the electricity fails? What if they get cold? What if a predator sneaks in? But in the morning chill, I opened the brooder door to be greeted by 13 happy ducklings who had all survived the chilly night. I just had to have faith in them to know what to do. I had to have faith in their design, that they would be just fine. I had to have faith in myself that I had given them everything they need to survive the cold night.

Last week, we received muchly anticipated guinea hens. We had been waiting for them for 4 months. They were tiny and wonderfully colored, but they had been delayed for a day in transit. Two perished before they arrived. Over the next two days, 7 more passed. We tried reviving the weak ones with sugar water and electrolytes. We tried giving extra protein and heat. The chicks would appear healthy and then would decline in a matter of hours. We reached out others with more experience. Followed their advice. But nothing seemed to make a difference. We just had to wait it out, and see how many would survive. One morning, I was sure the last four would perish in a matter of hours. But, when I went to check on them two hours later, they were happy as can be chirping and pecking at their food.

That’s when I learned that sometimes we have to let go. We must do our best, always, but we also must realize, that many things are not under our control. This is not an excuse to not try, or be careless in the care of those who depend on us (plants, animals, humans). This is a realization that there is something bigger than ourselves, and we are just playing a part in it. When we see it go right, we should stare in awe and celebrate but also realize that we did not control it. When we see it go wrong, it’s sad and painful, and we can feel that pain. But we should also realize that we did not control that, either.

So, as the incubator hums and the seemingly lifeless eggs sit in it, I wait. I must have faith in the force that will give life to the chicks inside. I must have patience and find peace in letting go. I must have faith, that those little chicks inside know what to do, but I also have to let go of the responsibility of their hatching. If we hear the little peeps of life in the next days, we will celebrate. Each one will be a miracle. We will mourn the ones that don’t hatch, but also realize this is just the way things are.