At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.”
He said to them, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it!
How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!
See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.'”
How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings.
You a chicken, Lord?
This is one Biblical symbol at first I had trouble grasping.
Then I watched a hen protect her chicks – to her death.
She stretched out her wings, chest unprotected, giving her all to block harm towards her loved ones.
You did too, Lord.
You stretched out Your arms on the cross.
You took the pain so we didn’t have to.
You stood between death and us.
You fought for us like a hen protects her chicks.
I live in the shadow of Your wings, Lord.
I live forever because You came to earth, our measly barnyard, to defend us.
I live as Your chick, Your child.
You live as my Savior.