I recently read -- and you very well may have recently heard -- a sermon in which the pontificator used an illustration about an eagle who, at a very young age (like, still an egg), was transferred to a flock of prairie chickens. The eagle hatched and was raised alongside the prairie chickens, scratching in the dirt and "flying" in short bursts of wing-flapping chaos.
One day, the young eagle looked up and saw an adult eagle soaring high above the barnyard--majestically surfing the air currents. "What's that?" asked the misplaced eaglet.
"Oh," answered one of the prairie chickens, "that's an eagle. His eyes are keener than barbed wire, and his wings are stronger than the shutters on the barn. He's the king of the birds. But don't give it another thought. You're just a prairie chicken, like me."
From that day on, the eagle contented himself with scratching in the dirt and fluttering for a few seconds from fencepost to fencepost...never realizing that he, too, was the king of birds.
Then the sermoneer, in an attempt to inspire his flock, said, "Friends, let's refuse to live and die as prairie chickens. Let's soar with the eagles."
Well . . . that's fine . . . if you're an eagle. What the well-meaning preacher seems to have forgotten is that God created prairie chickens, too! And if you're talking to a prairie chicken, all the encouragement to "Soar! Soar!" won't do a lick of good.
You can see this truth plainly displayed on American Idol. It ain't everybody what's meant to be singing in front of other folks! And instead of being distraught over the fact, it's time to celebrate the way God made you.
I'm average, and I'm proud! If not for people like me, there would be no fawning masses to give people like Paris Hilton a reason to go on sucking air. Where would Jay Leno get his sense of self-worth if not for millions of boring insomniacs who think he's funny?
The world needs prairie chickens, and the sooner you realize you're one of them, the better.