The Back Porch of the Abbey

Mac and Cheese

It was one of the first things my brother and I learned to cook. Mom and Dad sometimes worked late, and we were free to make our own dinner. There was one dish on which we both agreed, and it came in a blue box. Macaroni and cheese!

My older brother would turn on the stove, get the water boiling, pour in the dry pasta, and drain it 12 minutes later. I could handle of the butter and milk. At just the right moment, the “cheese” packet was sprinkled in and stirred to perfection. We considered ourselves to be dining on superb fare.

Later, my brother and I lived together again when I was in college. The blue box came off the shelf quite often because it was convenient and affordable. We would add ingredients like sliced hot dogs, browned hamburger, or whatever else was in the pantry to make it more filling. We often preferred our blue box creations to fast food or other options.

I got to thinking about mac and cheese this week when I read that the blue box people had come out with new restaurant style offerings featuring Romano, Parmesan, and Pepper Jack cheeses.

"A culinary wonder," I thought, “yet, why would anyone tamper with a childhood favorite?"

Upon further reflection I thought, “I better give this a try.”

The seasons of my blue box mac and cheese experiences have me thinking more deeply now. Childhood gives us roots. Youth invites exploration. Adulthood calls us into a deeper, richer life. Our tastes change. Our understanding grows. What once satisfied us in a simple way begins to morph into a taste for something more.

Through it all, God meets us. Not only in the refined and sophisticated moments of life, but also in the ordinary, improvised, hot dog in the mac and cheese seasons. The grace of God does not wait for us to mature before it reaches us. It shows up in the simple meals and the changing palates of life. Over time, that same grace deepens us. It takes what is familiar and leads us toward something that truly nourishes. The Holy Spirit grows our faith from simple beginnings into a deeper trust and a more seasoned love.

I am going to try that the new mac and cheese and report on my experiences. I may find myself deconstructing my old mac and cheese convictions. Time will tell.

Bon appétit!

Finding The Way Home

When I was about ten or twelve, my Uncle Lester told me a story from when he was that same age. He had gone squirrel hunting alone one afternoon, roaming the Alabama woods he thought he knew well. At one point, he spotted a squirrel darting along the branches, but before he could take a shot, it disappeared into a hole just above a “Y” in the limbs of a large oak tree. He paused, noticing how unusual that hole looked, then moved on.

After a while, the wind picked up and the sun began to sink. Lester said, “I looked around, and all at once the woods felt strange. I had walked those woods plenty of times, but now I didn’t recognize anything. I was lost, and the sun was going down!”

The thought of being lost and alone terrified him. Instead of wandering, he found a big oak tree, settled on the sheltered side, and decided to wait. As he sat there, he began thinking about home, his momma and daddy, and how worried they’d be when he didn’t show up for supper. “I started crying,” he said, “and then I started praying.”
As he looked up into the oak tree, something caught his eye: a “Y” in the limbs, and just above it, an odd-shaped hole. It hit him all at once. It was the very tree where he had started hunting earlier that afternoon.

“It was like the whole world turned around,” he said. “I knew exactly where I was.”

Within moments, he found the road and ran all the way home.

Lester’s story is a simple reminder of a deeper truth. All of us lose our way from time to time. Life can leave us turned around, unsure, and searching for direction. But when we slow down, remember, and turn our hearts toward God, things begin to come back into focus. We find our bearings again.

That’s who we are as a church. We are a community of people who have been lost and, by the grace of God, find our way home. We don’t gather because we have it all together, but because we trust the One who leads us. And as we walk that road together, we help others find their way home, too.

I look forward to being in our church home with you this Sunday.

Just Preachers

My father once told me about a chance encounter he had in a bookstore in Montgomery, Alabama. He was downtown at the Alabama Bible Society, quietly perusing the shelves. At the time, he was a student pastor, serving small churches while completing his educational training.
As he walked around one display of books, he noticed a well dressed man browsing nearby. Almost instantly, Dad recognized him. It was Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Dad gathered his courage, interrupted politely, and introduced himself. The two men shook hands and exchanged brief greetings.
Dad had selected a book to purchase and asked Dr. King if he would be so kind as to sign the inside cover. By then, Montgomery had already placed Dr. King on the front pages newspaperspp. Still, Dr. King graciously agreed and signed the book.

Many years later, I asked Dad what it was like to meet Dr. King. With characteristic understatement, he replied, “He was very kind and genuine. In many ways, he was just another preacher.”

To this day, I have not found Dr. King’s signature in any of the books from my late father’s library. What I do possess is this story of two preachers sharing a chance encounter and a moment of polite, respectful hospitality.

Preachers, like all believers, are mere mortals who have given their consent to follow Jesus Christ. Sometimes Jesus leads them into the heat of the world’s most visible battles. Others, like my father, are sent to tend Christ’s sheep in quieter and less dramatic places. Both go where the Lord sends them, and both discover that faithfulness to the calling makes a difference.

As we observe Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. weekend, may we remember that God works through both the public witness that shapes history and the quiet faithfulness that shapes hearts. May we honor Dr. King not only for his courage and leadership, but also for his deep commitment to Christ, justice, and love of neighbor. And may we, wherever God has placed us, be willing servants of the gospel, trusting that even small, unseen moments of faithfulness can echo far beyond our own lives.

Ann and Anna: A Legacy of Love in Action

Ann Jarvis was living it out long before the term activist became common. A devoted mother and community leader, Ann faced tremendous personal hardships. Over 17 years, she gave birth to at least eleven children, but tragically, only four survived to adulthood. In the rugged Appalachian region of the mid-1800s, high infant and child mortality rates were heartbreakingly common.,

Motivated by love and through the resilience of faith, Ann organized women in her community to advocate for better health and safety for their children. When the Civil War divided the nation, she became a strong and compassionate voice for reconciliation between mothers on both sides of the conflict. Her unwavering trust in Christ was the bedrock of her life, guiding her efforts to bring healing and hope to those around her.

Her daughter, Anna Jarvis, was deeply inspired by her mother’s selfless devotion. Determined to honor not just her own mother but all mothers, Anna organized the first official Mother’s Day celebration in 1908 at Andrews Methodist Episcopal Church in Grafton, West Virginia. She invited friends and family, and handed out white carnations—her mother’s favorite flower—as a symbol of love and remembrance.

The celebration struck a deep chord. Anna devoted herself to the cause, and in 1914, her dream was realized when President Woodrow Wilson officially recognized Mother’s Day as a national holiday. Anna once said, “The best Mother’s Day gift is a hug.” Simple, heartfelt, and true.

This Sunday, we will celebrate Mother’s Day. Mothering, in all its expressions, is one of the most powerful and enduring influences in the world. Come honor your mother and all those who have nurtured and guided you!

Happy Mother’s Day!

“Light can neither enter into nor emanate from a closed mind.”
-Jon Meacham

“Any jackass can kick a barn down but it takes a carpenter to build it.”
-Sam Rayburn

“It is a wise man who realizes that the church is bigger than its pastor.”
-Sam Rayburn

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Let's Not Be ChrINOs: Christians In Name Only - Today Can Be Different Let’s seek His wisdom -- especially on the days or in the seasons when we don’t feel like it. (Because we are almost certain to have some of these too.)

The abuse of power for personal gain or benefit is called CORRUPTION.