running around like a….

When you are at home,
even if the chicken is a little burnt,
what’s the big deal?
Relax.
Jacques Pepin

DSCN3178
(The Bunratty rooster, a copy of a photo from the property)

I was city born and bred…
yet I’ve been country ever since—-
or maybe we should just say more rural than urban,
as I wouldn’t exactly call my small Georgia town country.

We are quite modern actually.
Hospital, factories, plants, large grocery chains, shopping centers, a college, a technical college…
But we do have a sale barn where farmers head every Monday morning to buy and sell their animals.
We have farmland 5 minutes from the downtown square.
We have wild animals lurking about…
fox, deer, turkey, coyotes, snakes, rabbits, armadillos, possums,
raccoons, snakes…did I mention the snakes?
Rattlesnakes, copperheads, black racers, rat snakes, corn snakes, garden snakes…..

Growing up meat and chicken was something we purchased from a grocery store…
much like I still do today.
Nice and neat in its shrink wrapped packaging.
Same with eggs, milk, hamburgers…you name it—it came from the store.
I never thought much about the “before the store” aspect….

My grandmothers grew up on farms.
They were the original farm to table girls.
Tales of butchering hogs, cows, chickens, etc. rang throughout the stories I heard as a child.

I personally love animals too much to raise them only to turn around and kill butcher them for food.
But I get it.
Living off the land as it were.
I like the idea of living off the land.
Just as I like the idea of getting my meat from a store all nice, neat and shrink wrapped.
For even though I love animals, I am truly a meat and potato girl.

I do have a chicken coop however, all ready for the day when I will have my own girls offering up fresh eggs…
yet my time for chickens, let alone much of anything else, is terribly limited these days.
Hence why I often feel as if I’m running around like a chicken with my head cut off…

They say that when a farmer butchers, slaughters, chops a chicken by first waking off its head, the body will jump up in the air and actually take off running—as if for dear life—
not exactly realizing dear life is sufficiently over.

Reflexes the experts tell us.

Shades of Tim Burton, Anne Boleyn and Marie Antoinette all rolled into one.

So maybe my willy nilly running about like the proverbial chicken with my head cut off–running wildly and madly here and there all helter skelter could be chalked up to mere reflexes—the reflexes of being overwhelmed and over stressed.

Time to slow down, regroup and refocus….
and most importantly, time to seek God’s words….
Words of comfort, teaching, instruction and assurance….

You are righteous, Lord,
and your laws are right.
The statutes you have laid down are righteous;
they are fully trustworthy.
My zeal wears me out,
for my enemies ignore your words.
Your promises have been thoroughly tested,
and your servant loves them.
Though I am lowly and despised,
I do not forget your precepts.
Your righteousness is everlasting
and your law is true.
Trouble and distress have come upon me,
but your commands give me delight.
Your statutes are always righteous;
give me understanding that I may live.

Psalm 119:137-144

8 comments on “running around like a….

  1. Wally Fry says:

    Great as usual Jule, with lots of truth. However, I may semi hijack it for a story. Charge me one comment coupon, as ColorStorm says.

    Roosters hate me. Since I am at people’s houses all day, I obviously am exposed to pets and animals all of the time. I never have problems with dogs, cats, or most anything else. But you can bank on it, if there is a rooster in the yard, it is quite likely to attack me. I have no clue why, but I am quite familiar with the feel of rooster spurs working their way up my leg.

    Have a great day!

  2. atimetoshare.me says:

    My grandma had the honor of butchering the chickens on her farm, though I consider it less than an honor. I know how you feel though. When we’re overwhelmed by the everyday junk of life, there’s no where else to go, but God’s word. I feel your pain, Yoda. Btw I’m working with we support to get back in the reader. Let me know if you’re seeing my posts.

  3. Lynda says:

    In the midst of all that you do may the peace of God be with you always! Blessings and prayers.

    • Thanks Lynda–I’ve always been partial to the psalms as they are so real, so human, so full of our need, our voice–in good and bad—it always does me good to stop and remember that since the days they were written—we have been struggling and God has seen each and every struggle as His hand is always extended offering us a way out

  4. My mom talked about her mom going out to the yard on their farm and catching a chicken for dinner and wringing its head right where she caught in and then mom had to pluck all the feathers off before it was cooked. And I used to hear similar stories from James grandparents, but their would be no chick dinner for me if I had to go out and snap the little buggers neck. With all that you are going through you still manage to knock out great posts wonder woman. Love, N 🙂 ❤

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