Leftover Chicken and Our Identity in Christ

Somehow, a stay at home mom of four has to find a way to draw God’s Word and leftover Rotisserie chicken into a blog post.  Multi-tasking.  It is what I do.  Asking the Lord to use everyday experiences to mold and transform me into His image, since those rare moments of me meditating and chewing on His Word are often interrupted by a diaper blow-out or a need to refill a cereal bowl.

The Lord has been graciously nudging me to freshen up on ways that I can build character in my children and little conversations like this nudge me all the more-

I lovingly set the buttery toast in front of her, smothered in homemade apricot preserves, “here you go, Darling Pie.”

“I not dar-pie!  I AUDREY GAIL.”

Steadfast, determined, certain of her identity.

Her brother is similar in his security, dare I say to him, “sorry charlie,” I will quickly be corrected that his name is Ryan McClaine.  Just in case I forgot.

I love it!  I so desire for my children to be secure, steadfast and unwavering in the identity that God gave them.  I want them to know in their heart of hearts what God has promised to be true of them.  I am praying that the Lord would continue to give me verses that show my children the promises that He has made for them.

When they grow, I want them to believe unequivocally who they are, lest some mean girl or dumb teenage boy, try to convince them otherwise.  I want them to know the manner of care and love that went into their very creation,

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together  in my mother's womb.  I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful,  I know that full well.  My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained  for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.  Ps 139:13-16

I  also want to know how to take that rotisserie chicken from the deli, that graces our table once a week and then sits in our fridge for days, and make it into something good and edible.  And like any savvy, multi-tasking mom, I find a delightful parallel between Psalm 139 and a rotisserie chicken.  Or at least a common word.

Chicken Frame Soup

Stick your leftover rotisserie chicken in a big stock pot.
Fill with water until it just covers the chicken.
Throw in half an onion and a couple cloves of garlic- I don’t chop mine because
1) I don’t like to listen to my kids whine at dinner about onions
2)  I don’t like to listen to myself whine
about how stinky my hands are after I chop onion and garlic
Add a bay leaf and some coarse ground pepper.
Boil until chicken is tender
(or at least until it isn’t dry anymore after spending five nights in your fridge).
Then strain the broth into another big pot, pull the good chicken meat off, add to broth
and ditch that gross carcass.

Bring broth back to boil and add about 1/2 pound of penne pasta.
While it is cooking to al dente…

…rinse a can of Navy Beans and chop up a couple carrots, add those to the pot.
Then, when the noodles are done, turn the heat off and add a container of basil pesto
(I used an 8 oz. container, but it could have used more).

And add a couple handfuls of coarse chopped Kale or green of your choice.

Garnish with shaved parmesan cheese
(and I like mine with a squeeze of lemon juice and a dash of cayenne pepper).
Serve with crusty bread and butter.

As challenging as it is to tie leftover chicken and our identity in Christ together, I was so glad that I made this soup.  It served as a great “mom cure” for Avery and McClaine who fought the stomach flu this weekend.

Thanks for the recipe, mom!

Side note- during the flu season, I felt myself slightly uncompassionate toward those who had sick kids.  And then yesterday came, and with it, five loads of puke-covered clothes, sheets and towels, and hours of disinfecting.  So sorry to those of you who have endured this multiple times this year.