The story of the chicken

This is my cousin. The girl, not the boy.

She is more like a sister. I don’t have any of those. We don’t get to talk often or see each other very much, but you know when you have “that person” you just connect with. She’s that girl.

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Before house renovation life began, we actually had family visit and we laughed and had fun. We went out to eat and played cards. That life……coming back baby.

Jamie lives in Ohio. She was visiting Florida and staying with us.

I was gardening, like a real vegetable garden, and I mentioned that I would one day like to have chickens. I had heard that chickens eat bugs that would normally eat your vegetables. That’s one reason I wanted a chicken. I also think they are cute. Her name would be Betty. She would have a plume of feathers that come out of her head like a hat.

Jamie thought it was a great idea.

Steve….not so much. No chickens Charma. Chickens are dirty. Chickens are not for people who live in town and so on and so on and so on. Those who know Steve can already see “the face.” His forehead wrinkles up and he tries to look stern. Whatever……

Jamie comes in one from shopping and hands me “The chicken.” Made me laugh. It’s not Betty but if I can’t have a real chicken it’ll do.

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Now I can’t show you the chicken because there is way more to the story.

Jamie later found out that she had cancer. Cancer that you don’t survive from.

She had surgeries and treatments. She had relapses and she was so sick.

She had so much of her pancreas removed that I didn’t know you could survive with only a small percentage.

I will never forget one time when she came to visit after one of her surgeries. She was trying to figure out what she could eat and what she couldn’t. The ride home from the airport was scary. She asked if we could stop at a rest area. She went in and stayed. I did’t know what to do. Should I go in? Should I make sure she was ok? So I did.

I called to her. She was ok. Gosh I was scared.

What now? I wait. That’s what you do. I knew that she was worried about being so long. I started to pray. I prayed that she wouldn’t worry. I prayed that she would stop being sick. I prayed that she would pray.

Fast forward to 2016. Jamie is healed.

Jamie is married to a wonderful guy.

Jamie is a Christ follower.

So the chicken has special meaning to me. When I see the chicken I don’t just see a chicken statue or a dust collector. I see a miracle. I see the love of Jesus and his anointing on my cousin/sister. I see so much more than just a chicken.

The chicken does not have a place yet at the old house. When her place is chosen, you will see her.

Love,

the girl who is still “one” with the floors. One room to go!!!!

 

 

 

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One Response to The story of the chicken

  1. Pingback: Lockers revisited | Abandoned

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