We know we are growing feathers for a reason. Looking at the shell we’ve broken out of, we realize we don’t quite fit in that world anymore. There is something bigger. Looking over the edge of the nest, we come to the conclusion that maybe we’re not quite ready yet.
Growing feathers is painful; growing is painful. The comfortableness of our skin is being stretched to fit the muscles that build on a new layer every day. We stretch our puny arms and see fluff where pink rubbery skin used to be. But what kind of feathers are we growing?
Are we growing long, sleek feathers for soaring high? Short and straight for diving and flying quickly low? Are these wings meant to get us from A to B or are we meant to migrate each winter? Are our feathers meant for show or do they have a more direct purpose?
We cannot see now what kind of feathers we are growing. We simply know we were meant for something more than the tiny shell we came from. True, protection does not lie within the walls of a shell any longer–those walls are paper thin! We are much safer once we escape the claustrophobia of the shell. Only then may we learn to seek shelter-in the trees, in others, and learn to be a shelter for others.
We cannot see what kind of feathers we are growing. We only know that we were crafted for something much greater than hobbling around a dinky nest. Yes, it is a bit bigger than the egg, but we come to the edge and instinctively know the world holds much more.
Growing feathers is painful and uncomfortable. We cannot see now what kind of feathers we are growing, or how exactly we will use them. But a time will one day come when the nest and the egg are both too small. We will climb to the edge of the nest and stretch out what we now call wings. As the breeze brushes through the fluff, the down, and the feathers we still may not fully understand what kind of feathers we have.
But we will finally realize that we were created to fly. To soar. And soar, we will.