“It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for a bird to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.”

C.S. Lewis

I have a confusion of guineas. I could also say “flock of guineas” but with both being correct terms for a group of guineas, I picked what I felt was the most fitting for the species. I bought my confusion of guineas as little keets last summer and raised them to help control the grasshopper population in my food forest. I trained them to come when I call and to coop up at night to help keep them safe. I have discovered that I really enjoy guineas – they are entertaining and useful birds! Since I have both males and females, I decided to try incubating some of their eggs this year so I could add to my confusion, and potentially sell some guinea keets as well.

As it happens, I have incubated 70 guinea eggs in three different batches. Of those 70, three have hatched and I have one currently showing early signs of development in my latest batch. The rest of the eggs were apparently unfertilized. So, potentially four keets out of 70 eggs. Those are terrible fertility rates, obviously. However, those unfertilized eggs started off as good eggs. They would have made a delicious omelet or fried egg sandwich or egg salad – or all of the above and more! But once they sit in the very warm incubator long enough to tell if they are fertilized or not, those eggs aren’t good for anything except composting. Eggs can only stay good for so long.

We are the same. Just as babies wean from milk to solid food; a student becomes a teacher; or a Christian moves from salvation to ministry. Good eggs must hatch or go bad. Maturity – intellectual, emotional and spiritual – is necessary to prevent becoming a bad egg. No one wants to see an adult acting like a toddler. Everyone understands that. But what about spiritually? It is so easy to sit cozy and comfortable, nestled in the familiar warmth of my egg. I get too busy doing my own thing in that small space to bother with hatching and finding my wings. However, if I don’t, not only will I not learn how to fly – I will grow stagnant and eventually I will go bad.

I am a good egg but in order to stay good, I must break out and move on and continue to grow. Just like those few adorable little keets who formed inside and then somehow broke out of those tough, almost impossible-to-break guinea eggs; those tiny, adorably crazy keets who are ready to take on the world – one grasshopper at a time. They don’t hatch and then cling to their broken eggshells either. No, they kick those eggshells away with as much strength as they can muster so they can get up and walk. And then run. And then fly.

If those nutty keets can do it, so can I.

Side Note: I don’t know why my guineas have such abysmal fertility rates. Perhaps I never will – but if anyone has any thoughts on that, or anything else to share, please comment and let me know!