Fun fact: I generally enjoy scraping the remaining meat off a leftover rotisserie chicken.
I guess that’s how you can tell I’m not a vegetarian?
In any case, it feels productive. And it usually leads to a convenient batch of “homemade” chicken salad. (“Homemade” because I didn’t grow the chicken, so saying “homemade” feels a little fabricate-y.)
When making “homemade” chicken salad, one must have the proper proportion and distribution of mayonnaise and seasonings. (Go ahead and BE your fancy self and ADD those cranberries, ma’am! I just decided to keep it simple…and I don’t think we had cranberries.)
The mayo (doesn’t it feel intimate to give an inanimate condiment a nickname?) was added, and it was time to season.
I’m REALLY thankful my body lets me eat salt, because I have a friend who has to pretty strictly limit her salt intake right now, and I was thinking of her as I added my lil pink Himalayan sea salt and other seasoning mix to the salad.
Can you imagine a world with limited–or NO–salt?
I can’t. (I mean, my imagination is prettttty active and I could probably get there, but that’s not the point.)
Salt is great because it doesn’t just change the dish it’s going into; it shines a light on the flavors already in it.
When you make a bowl of oatmeal and put in your typical cinnamon, sugar, etc, adding a pinch of salt actually helps magnify the cinnamon.
When you salt something, everything benefits.
I think I was about 11 when I started thinking of acting as something I wanted to do for my life, and not just as a “thing” or activity.
One of the reasons I wanted to act and, Lord-willing, expand my platform, was to be a godly role model to anyone who watched me.
Now, that’s a lot of pressure, and I am quite imperfect, but that was such a beautiful opportunity in my mind, and I had a theme verse for acting that really helped illustrate that goal for me:
You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.
Matthew 5:14-16
I love the idea of being the person who gets to shine and point people to Jesus. SO cool!
Right before that verse, in Matthew 5:13, Jesus talks about salt:
You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
Christians are “the salt of the earth”.
Most times when I read verse 13, I think, “Ok, I like cooking–so salt adds some flavor to the world and kinda makes it more colorful. Cool.”
But it’s more than that.
Because, when the salt does it’s thing and lets loose, the cinnamon gets to shine brighter, too.
But, when the salt loses its saltiness, it’s not only not seasoning the dish; it’s hampering the cinnamon, too.
I recently made a “Happy Graduation” video (#covidlife) for a sweet friend who just graduated high school. In the video, I felt inspired to share what God had revealed to me lately about the “light of the world” portion of Matthew 5: that it instructs/commands us to “let” our light shine.
“Let” as in “it takes effort, so you have to choose”.
I encouraged my friend to be intentional about letting his light shine. Because, for me, it can be really easy to get lazy or scared or a million other excuses and just not let my light shine. Maybe I feel like it needs to be polished first, or I feel like the room’s so dark that uncovering my light would hurt everyone’s metaphorical eyes too much.
Whatever the case, letting that light do its thing is usually prefaced by a decision on your part. And the same goes for salt. I love how Jesus is just like, “Hey, you ARE the salt and light. Like you just are. So what are you going to do about it?”
So? What are you going to do about it?
Mr. Cinnamon down the street is counting on you–his seasoning needs a little extra salt love.
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