Hi, all. Just a thought to help start your weekend.

My wife and I are proud members of our local Lions Club, part of the world’s largest service organization. We enjoy the club and are thankful for the things we get to sponsor. One of our fundraisers is our Brunswick stew sale. Before I even explain, I wanted to give you an official definition of the stuff, so naturally I “googled” it. The all-wise and mighty world wide internet (ha!) describes Brunswick stew thusly — “Brunswick stew boasts a rich Southern history. The original Brunswick stew was said to be made with little more than onions and squirrel,” and, “Brunswick stew is an iconic Southern dish, stuffed with controversy as well as pretty much everything else in your garden.” And that pretty much sums it up!

We spend several hours cooking four or five very large black cast iron pots full (nearly 90 gallons in total this time) of what is considered a delicacy in these parts! I won’t give away all of our secrets, but we use ground beef and chicken, not squirrel, in case you were wondering. We know how much of what is supposed to go into each different-sized pot, we load them up that way, and once the fire is lit, we stir constantly with boat paddles for the next three hours or so until we shut off the heat and start dipping it into containers for those who have purchased some.

What is just as interesting and has just as many ingredients is our visiting and conversations that take place throughout the stew-cooking process! We reminisce about the local history, who’s kin to whom (I learned some new ones this time!), and we enjoy one another’s friendship and laughter through the mania it is!

You see, it isn’t just the beef and chicken and tomatoes and okra and potatoes and onions and lima beans and broth and seasonings and other stuff that make our stew so good. It’s the time, the effort, the stories, and the people who are a part of it all.

God’s church is just like one of those big stew pots. It takes all kinds, sizes, and flavors of ingredients, stirred together with loving care and plenty of good conversation that make it what it is — a love-filled haven of rest for weary soldiers marching up to Glory.

I look forward to those stew days. I’m admittedly grunting and groaning for a day or two afterwards, but as I told one or two folks this past weekend, I consider it a “good tired.” We’ve done good, we’ve supported and financed good, we’ve eaten good, and it felt good. And God has told me to do good.

Fix some cornbread, grab the saltines, or pour yours over rice and enjoy the fruits of your labors in the Kingdom. When the end has come, I promise you that it will without a doubt be a “good tired.”

Just a thought. ’Til later.

Rev. Brad Campbell can be reached at mastah.pastah@yahoo.com.