Creating Something from Bones

Photo by minchephoto photography: https://www.pexels.com/photo/soup-on-white-ceramic-bowl-6989864/

The pleasure of soup simmering on the back burner is just one of the things to love about winter here at the foot of the Cascade Mountains.*

Shauna Niequist, in her book Celebrate Every Day, has some thoughts about soup:

“I chopped garlic, onions, carrots, and celery and boiled the [turkey] bones in my big red soup pot. I added some leftover turkey and a handful of rice, and all of a sudden, soup!

“That soup, that plain old turkey soup, made me feel like a miracle worker or a magician, bringing something from nothing. It’s a very practical act of redemption. It’s essentially making a meal out of things that would otherwise become garbage.”

I’ve boiled chicken and turkey bones for soup broth. I’ve thrown ham bones in with the pinto beans to make delicious pots of bean soup. But I’ve never pondered how I was creating something from what normal people would consider to be garbage. Bones.

In the first story of the Bible, the Trinity—God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit—said this: “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness …” – Genesis 1:26, NIV

We were made in the image of our Creator for multiple purposes, and one of them is to create.

I have friends who are excellent artists, writers, and filmmakers—award-winning creators whose work blesses those who view their art, hear their music, read their books.

My husband is a creative genius when it comes to electricity, mechanics, hydraulics, and plumbing. This is a man who uses his creativity to serve people.

When I’m making soup, I’m creating nourishment that will feed my body. And my family. The process also feeds my soul—this partnering with God to make something from nothing, from bits and pieces.

Writing is similar. Plain, common words are arranged into sentences that have the capacity to encourage, and restore, and spread hope.

I see threads running through this concept. When we’re operating in God’s image as mini-creators, the threads connect us to the people we’re feeding, or teaching, or singing a song to.

Those threads are made up of love. They spool out from God, and circle us, along with the one(s) who benefit from our creativity. The threads then return to us and wrap us in the joy of giving a gift, the joy of serving.

And we find ourselves love-entangled in a brilliantly designed tapestry with God and with the people he’s brought across our paths.  

Shauna Niequist ends her thoughts on soup bones with these words:

“That’s the heart of the story, really, the story of God and people and his hands in the world. All through history, he’s making soup from bones, life from death, water from rocks, love from hate.”

We’re operating in the image of God—and bring him joy—when we create something that will bolster courage, or provide sustenance, or usher in beauty.

And the world is a better place because of our roles as mini-creators alongside our Creator.

Chicken and Wild Rice Soup:

Here’s my recipe for Chicken and Wild Rice Soup—from memory and with approximations, since it’s not written down:

1. Peel and chop 2-3 cloves of garlic, ½ onion, 1-2 carrots, and 1-2 celery stalks. Sauté over medium heat in 2-3 Tbsp olive oil for about 5 minutes.

2. Stir in 4-6 cups of water with the chicken bones (or 4-6 cups chicken broth if you have no bones). Bring to boil.

3. Add approximately ½ to ¾ cup rice (I like Lundberg’s Wild Blend Gourmet Rice). Return water or broth to boil, cover with tight-fitting lid, and reduce heat to a low simmer for 45 minutes (about half that time if you’re cooking white rice).

4. While the rice is cooking, sauté 6-8 sliced mushrooms in 2 Tbsp butter.

5. When the rice is done, remove bones. Stir in any additional leftover chicken, the sautéed mushrooms, and a couple teaspoons of Italian seasoning. Add more broth if needed. Heat through. Taste. Smile.

* So much to love about winter in central Oregon:

In addition to pots of soup simmering on the back burner: Fireplace lit. Watching snow fall. Knitting while watching snow fall. Knitting and sipping hot tea while watching snow fall. Aroma of pumpkin scones hot out of the oven. Winter scarves. Hot apple cider. Beauty of snow-covered mountains. Tiny white lights. Reading by the fire indoors because the snow fall is too tall. Tromping through the tall snow in snowshoes. Winter music (similar to spring, summer, and fall music). Ugg boots. Candles lit. Reading indoors for hours (and not feeling guilty about it). And so much more.

Now, if it will just snow.