Last night our church had our famous "Men's Chili Cook Off!". Listen, nobody cooks like folks in South Louisiana. Nobody. You may think that you have good food where you live, but you don't. Trust me. And we are serious about our food here. Deadly serious.
As the interloper to the group, the foreigner, the outsider, I was the heavy underdog in the event. Last year, my chili was voted the worst in the competition. This year, I redeemed myself by finishing an honorable second. That's me on the left holding my prize of chili powder, measuring cups, and of course, the silver cup medal. Since we are all Americans, the winner picked the hymn of his choice to sing. As a confession, I must say that some of the chili I ate was some stuff of legend. One chili in particular would curl your hair just by standing next to it. Now that's some hot chili! Just so you know, it's just as hot coming out as it is going in. Yowseh!
I am a pastor serving in my hometown of Albertville, Alabama. The greatest evidence of God's grace in my life are my wife, son, and daughter. One look at me and then my wife will tell you that her "yes" was a modern day miracle. Otherwise, I am almost completely mundane.