Chicken Dish

Today I got to eat chicken and not just any chicken, the old traditional, left over eating, earth scratching chicken.

For you to get to eat this meal you have to first catch the chicken which is usually a tedious task except in my case all I had to do is get one from the chicken pen.

I had to be fast as the 'man of the house' was threatening to peck at my hand so that I could stop messing with one of its queens. Eventually I got through to having it in my hands and I was on to the next step which was to make sure that the head was separated from the body. This I have to say is no mean task as the chicken by now has a vague picture of what you intend to do.  Its wailing and twisting and what I did was to put its wings under one of my feet and quickly do the slice maneuver.  With quite a few jerks it later became still and I ventured on part three of making supper.

The old way of plucking feathers involves you dipping the now dead hen into a bowl of boiling water. This makes the feathers pluck off easily but this was done mostly because the chickens that found themselves onto the dinner table were old past menopause chickens that by trying to pluck their feathers without the use of hot water meant that you came off with more than just the feathers but rather with most of the supper.  My chicken was not old but prime. The feathers came off easy except for those on the wings and that's when I had to use hot water.

Part four involves dissecting the chicken into manageable eating parts and making sure that the insides are well removed otherwise you'll have poop and bile all over your precious dinner. There's an art to it and you don't just dissect it anyhow otherwise you'll get yourself having to break bones rather than dislocate them at the joints. After all this is done then and only then are you able to make your supper by either making it a broth or frying the pieces.

Leaves me wondering, the process we go through just to make one meal of the day. It doesn't feel like much when you know what you'll be meeting on the dinner table.

Just like my salvation. Sometimes I grow through a lot of hard times and those Megiddo moments when I have to make decisions on what the Lord would love me to do rather than what I'd like to do. When I conquer those moments where sin is looking me straight in the eye and telling me 'don't you like what you see?' the joy is greater than all those things that am supposed to be 'missing'.

I have choosen the narrow path and I intend to stick to it. It doesn't have many travelers and even those traveling alongside me are cautions and silent not trusting me but everytime I look at them I smile and I know they are just as careful as I am.

Jesus is coming back like a thief in the night and I wonder if for some people it will be like the owners hand coming through into the chicken pen.