Quoting Quiverfull: Debi Pearl Conquers Chicken Poop?

chickens

by Debi Pearl from No Greater Joy magazine – Now Debi Has Something in Common With a Common Egg

Editor’s note: No theology here, no toxic ideas. Sharing because it’s pretty funny. I hope Debi got all the chicken poop scrubbed out of her hair. Betting Michael teased her endlessly about this. Makes me wonder why Debi is doing the manly man work instead of Michael though.

Still, I did not panic, but I was a wee bit closer to doing so. It was hot—stifling hot—loud, and I was feverish. I imagined Mike cooking and visiting. Common sense told me that he was too distracted to notice how long I was gone. I couldn’t depend on him coming to rescue me. One thing I was sure of, I had to at least get my head out of the heat as I was feeling very faint and the thought of fainting in the slick fowl poop with all those creatures piling in on me was nightmarish. Did I mention that I was, as usual, wearing a skirt? Who cares, I thought. It was so terribly hot! I dropped to my knees and arched my back so I could get my head down lower than my behind. I stuck my head through the hole into that blessed 95-degree outside air. The chickens got so excited they ran to welcome me, so I had to stick my arm out to protect my face. Now, you may wonder how long a 66-year-old woman can stay in that position. I was holding myself up with one arm while the other arm was waving off kisses from ducks. One knee was holding me while the other leg was kicking off chickens that were investigating my legs, which were, of course, still inside the hen house. I lasted about 30 long seconds before I went down on my belly, slick poop and all. Now the chickens inside the house jumped on my back, and those outside fought for rights to be closest to my head. Desperate times call for quick action. I managed to get my other arm out the small opening. Wiggling like a worm, I got my top half out but my hips were too wide to squeeze through. I have to admit, it was the giant ducks staring down at me that were the last straw. I panicked but panic is good because it unlocked a secret super-hero strength I didn’t realize that I had. It was like my brain took on a whole new dimension as I suddenly knew things I never knew. I KNEW that tiny chicken door was taller than it was wide, so I flipped over on my side because my hips needed the extra 2 inches of space. Crawling on your side is not easy, especially if you’re old, sick, and have fowl both inside the house pecking your bare legs and outside pecking your ears. The slick poop was now used to my advantage as I slid myself free and down the chicken ramp. All the chickens that had been stuck in the house due to me taking up their door rushed out while I was still on all fours but I WAS FREE.

QUOTING QUIVERFULL is a regular feature of NLQ – we present the actual words of noted Quiverfull leaders, cultural enforcers and those that seek to keep women submitted to men and ask our readers: What do you think? Agree? Disagree? This is the place to state your opinion. Please, let’s keep it respectful – but at the same time, we encourage readers to examine the ideas of Quiverfull and Spiritual Abuse honestly and thoughtfully.

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