Crying Over Burnt Chicken.

I bawled my eyes out yesterday, I’m talking guttural cry, swollen eyes, deep gasps type of cry. What was I crying about? Burnt Chicken.

I read this cooking blog that said you aren’t a real housewife until you know how to cook a whole chicken. So I went out and bought my first whole chicken, I found the perfect Pinterest recipe, I spent a half hour cleaning it, making the perfect potion of seasonings, and covering every inch with oil and spices to create the perfect baked chicken. I set the oven to 425 like the recipe said, and I waited patiently for an hour as the bird baked. Every 20 minutes I even burned the hairs off my arm trying to cover my masterpiece in the boiling juices. At the chime of the timer I excitedly pulled the chicken out and compared it to the golden bird in the Pinterest photo. Only, mine was 2 or 3 shades darker than the golden perfection photographed. I stared at (what I thought was) the burnt chicken. In my mind the blog statement, “You aren’t a real housewife until you can cook a whole chicken” haunted me. So I set the bird on the table and collapsed on the couch crying.

Now we all know that the burnt chicken wasn’t the real issue, it was simply the “straw that broke the camels back.” What’s really been going on then?

Let’s backtrack a couple of weeks. As you know I’m recovering from surgery, that’s a battle in itself. But I also have been having issues with my shoulder and back. At first I was told that 5 of my ribs were out and I have bursitis in my shoulder, then it changed to my dorsal scapulas nerve was damaged, and now they are unsure whether a nerve is damaged, or severed beyond repair. The result of all this being that my scapula has slid out of place and my muscles won’t hold it up. I have a lot of pain in that area, I can’t move my arm in certain ways, I get tired early and can’t do things at the pace I’m used to, and we are again venturing into the unknown so I don’t even know if there is anything I can do about it.

I’ve done my best to stay positive about the whole situation. I have spent a lot of time praying and asking God for strength, and I really thought I was doing well. Until the chicken.

Adam came home to a bawling mess of a wife, a dark chicken in the kitchen and a bag of brussel sprouts cut in half and then given up on. As he held me while I cried he asked me what was wrong. Initially I said through tearful sighs, “I spent so much time on that dumb chicken and now it’s burnt! And the blog said that a true housewife can cook a chicken!” As the words escaped my mouth I realized that it was much more than the chicken. Earlier in the day there was a woman who told me that MLM companies don’t make you money and are pretty much useless. Earlier than that I was told that there may not be anything I can do about my scapula and all I can do at this point to save my posture is wear a brace. Earlier than that I did 6 weeks of radiation and it didn’t work. Earlier than that I did 2 months of a Clinical Trial and it didn’t work. Earlier than that I had a surgery and it didn’t work. Earlier than that I did 6 weeks of Proton Therapy and it didn’t work, and the list goes on. My tears were a result of a whole 2 years of, “It didn’t work.”

Now this is the part where my husband is a God given miracle to me.

“Why did you start LipSense?” “For fun.” “Oh not to make tons of money?” “No.”

“Do they know for sure that your scapula can’t be fixed?” “No.” “Are you doing everything possible?” “Yes.”

“If surgery and radiation and all those things didn’t work, would you still be alive?” “No”

Then he walks into the kitchen and cuts off a piece of chicken. The inside was juicy and tender and perfectly cooked. As it entered his mouth he told me that it was the best chicken he has ever tasted, and it was.

The moral of the story? I’m still trying to learn. I guess one take away would be that things aren’t always as they seem. The burnt chicken was a reminder to me that I see only a very small perspective in my fragile human mind. ¬†What I see as a disaster may very well be the most beautiful thing ever created. The last two years look like a burnt chicken to me, but God knows that on the inside is a beautiful, juicy, perfectly cooked plan.