Last week my kids all came over for supper. Brittany had mentioned a month ago that Will had never had my fried chicken and gravy. They have been married 9 years so not sure how that happen. But I promised her I would make it for everyone one night.
So, I stopped at the store and picked up all the fixins for fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, macaroni and cheese, and white chicken gravy. The meal that will always make me think of my Grandma Hanks. My grandmother was a wonderful cook but if you ask anyone what she was famous for her fried chicken, and gravy would definitely be at the top of the list. And there was a special trick to the gravy. I know most people eat their gravy over their mashed potatos, but for me growing up the gravy was always poured over torn up pieces of white bread.
As a little girl I not only remember the fried chicken but I also remember the whole day that was set aside to dress those chickens. A big ole cast iron pot was set out over an open fire filled with water. They would gather up the chickens, chop off their heads and drop them in the boiling water. They would pluck off all those feathers, once in awhile I got to help with that. My favorite part was cleaning out the gizzards, and playing with the feet. It all sounds strange now but those were good old days. The days when a whole group of family, neighbors, and friends would get together to help. Knowing at some point they would be enjoying the fruits of those labors with one of my grandma's fried chicken meals.
As I sat out to make supper that night I was reminded of the first time I attempted to make fried chicken and gravy. Brett and I hadn't been married very long. We were living half way across the country from everyone and I was craving some of my grandma's good ole fried chicken and gravy. I was probably craving the family atmosphere as much as the food. Now I had stood on a chair and "watched" my grandma make that meal probably hundreds of times, but no one had ever really taught me how. I wrote my Grandma and asked for directions. She mailed me directions on how to make it. My fried chicken turned out pretty good, but my gravy was horrible. It was thin like water. My wonderful new husband was great, he said it taste OK it is just thin gravy. I was so disappointed I threw mine in the trash and wouldn't even eat it.
It would be many years later before I would even attempt to try it again. But I finally did, and this time I realized what I had done wrong. I didn't wait. That step after you pour in the milk, and then it starts to boil, and you let it boil for a minute. I skipped that one. The first time I just poured in the milk let it heat up a few seconds and dumped it up. I missed that important part where you wait for the gravy to thicken.
There are lots of areas in my life I didn't wait, where I didn't allow God to "thickened" me or the people I loved. Times when I moved ahead like Sarah, and Rachael and tried to fix things my own way. Times in finances where I moved ahead on my timing where if I had waited God would have "thickened" my wallet. Or even times in the life's of my kids, when I maybe tried to fix things for them, or make things easier, when maybe God was trying to "thickened" their faith and I got in the way.
I am proud to say that I can make a decent fried chicken and gravy now. I would never compare it to my Grandma's but I can hold my own. And I can say that I am getting better about waiting on God. I am learning the sweet taste of that "thickening" process.
Psalm 62:5&6 says "Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken!"
Love and miss you Grandma!!
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