Eat More Chikin

Eat mor chikin:

I recall a few years back for homecoming seeing half a chicken (Amish raised on the menu and when I ordered it I couldn't finish because Half of a chicken is actually like a lot of food. Ever since then it's been pretty apparent that I have a small stomach. 

As "African Elders" we have an in with everyone from the continent even if they are from places like Nigeria, Liberia, or Ghana where they speak English. We have a member on the Stake High-council from Ghana who likes us because we teach Africans so he invited us to his home for dinner. 

He and his family were super nice and when we sat down for dinner we were told we were being fed African style chicken and rice. The chicken was in a big pan, sitting in broth, covered with peppers so you couldn't really see it. I saw Elder Alleman pull a single drumstick out of the broth so I was deceived into thinking I coukjd get away with eating small portions. I loaded up my plate with rice and salad and when I went to get some chicken the first piece I saw was kind of... big. I reselected, and only found an even bigger piece. The member, thinking I was confused on how to get the gargantuan meat to my plate grabbed it with some tongs and slapped it on my plate. I could see the broth running down the side of it glistening in the fluorescent light like the sweat that would soon be running down my balding forehead. I had just been served half of a chicken roughly the size of my sizeably large plate. If I wanted my rice or salad I had to eat my way to it. 

As you know, I am not a fast eater and the wife was fretting because she thought I didn't like it, I did but half of a chicken is a lot of food and also, it was hot in there. I struggled through it, it was at least 90 degrees in there and sweat was rolling into my eyes, no one but me seemed to notice the heat. Soon everyone but me was done and they were getting uncomfortable about how slow I was eating. I went into panic mode, I stopped chewing my food and just swallowed. Finally I scarfed down the last of my chicken, mentally sighing with relief. Now I could eat some spicy African rice and be done with it.

The member, who had been talking about how he met his wife abruptly stopped. I looked at him confused then he and his wife in a synchronized motion leaned over the table and like mighty morphin' power rangers said, in unison, "HAVE SOME MORE ELDERS!"  And then they  did a  double fist bump  and used their powers to levitate chicken out of the broth. And another chicken half, this time, even bigger than my plate was thrown before me. This one was all fatty and I was freaking out, I was NOT about to pull an Elder Rowley and throw up (or poop on my shirt). And I was NOT about to waste food in front of people who were just talking about how people are starving in their home country.  

I pumped myself up and entered the avatar state of food eating. The sweat stopped and I began following my hosts example of shoveling food into my gullet. I learned that if I mentioned Fufu at all they loved it, I think Fufu is the way to an Africans heart. They said that's what they'll feed us next time. 

I finished, and gave myself a pat on the back for eating a full chicken. 

On a more spiritual note:

We were walking around an apartment complex the other day and this random guy walked up to us, "Hey can I ask y'all a question? My Brother died at his bachelor party last week and lately I've just been wondering about where we go after this life." We were caught off guard because normally people only approach us to harass us or tell us to leave the complex. 

Then we started teaching him the Plan of Salvation and since he didn't have much time (he was carrying like 3 pizzas) and we miraculously had an English pamphlet. 

It taught me 2 things: 1 always carry teaching material in English 2: We take the Plan of Salvation for granted. People that  arent of our faith have little understanding of God's plan for us and we need to share it.

Je vous aime,

Elder Murdoch