Being Chicken

I just finished de-boning a chicken, and I must say, it was a disgusting thing to do. (de-boning it, not finishing!) It isn't the first chicken I've de-boned (in fact, I did one yesterday, too), and I'm sure there will be many more in the future, but that doesn't make me feel any better. It's one of the grossest things in the world, right up there with actually cleaning out a chicken, which is grosser by far. Well, there are a great many grosser things in the world, I guess, just not in my world. Which probably tells you that #1, I am a wimp; #2, my world is quite small; and #3, this person is not ready for missionary life in Africa or some other wilds. Right. I'm not :) That's why I'm going to Ukraine first :) Not that they don't do worse things to the chickens in Ukraine...

No, really, de-boning a chicken is not that big of a deal. As I plunged my hands into those gobs of slimy yellow fat and felt the brown stringy bits oozing through my fingers, saw the ghoulish knobby ends of the bones...I thought back to missions trips to Tamazunchale, Mexico back in my chicken hating days. Not only did I dislike cleaning, cooking, or de-boning them, the very idea of eating chicken repulsed me as well! (I think that came about shortly after we butchered our own chickens, which seems understandable.) Unfortunately for me then, but fortunately for now, I had to suck it up and get over it because chicken was the main dish most of the time. Somewhere between the last Tamaz. trip (March 2004) and the trip to Hong Kong (July 2005), I got over it big time. I wonder what it would be like going back to Mexico now, so ready to engage with the chicken and all with a fearless heart :) It's easier to relate to people when you can relate to their food.

Connor is in Mexico right now, getting all the chicken he can manage, besides working like a beast, leading worship for devos, clapping his hands to pieces in worship services, and having the time of his life. I envy him, but it's good that I'm here. Those short, intense missions trips changed me so drastically, concerning the chicken factor and so many other things. Not only am I happy to eat chicken now, I voluntarily cook and de-bone it...and yes, I will someday butcher it if I have to!

The best way to do gross things is to simply plunge in. Revel in the noisome oozings. And if that's simply not possible (like when cleaning up throw up, for example), there's always the bigger picture to look at. Chicken de-boning does not need to define me, it can simply be filed away as an exotic sensory experience while I get on with life.