Well friends, I can practically taste the turkey and the dressing!  My family is actually taking our show on the road this year to celebrate Thanksgiving. We’re traveling up to the North Georgia Mountains to enjoy a Family Thanksgiving Retreat.  It’s going to be a great time featuring lots of good food, daily campfire conversations, some hiking and maybe even some fly fishing.  Thanksgiving always renews my gratitude for the simple blessings like good food, good friends and memorable family times.

My wife, Amy, is already prepping Thanksgiving dishes!  Amy is in charge of the critically important cornbread dressing (aka stuffing), the sweet potato casserole and A CARAMEL CAKE.  She is an amazing cook! My sister, Ashley, is baking casseroles galore, so this is definitely shaping up to be an awesome feast!

I was tasked to sit down with Grandma Jeffords today and get step-by-step instructions for preparing Giblet Gravy.  Traditionally, the giblets that give Giblet Gravy it’s unique identity come from farm raised chicken parts, namely gizzards and livers.  I’m not sure about your household, but liver and gizzards are not typically on our menu.  Maybe we should try them with Mac N’ Cheese sometime…  Anyway, Grandma Jeffords has adapted her Giblet Gravy over the years, and she now excludes the traditional chicken parts.  Gizzards or no gizzards, Grandma still manages to get the consistency and the taste of her Giblet Gravy just right!

The phrase,”all the trimmings”, is fully-expressed when Giblet Gravy is presented in a gravy boat alongside rich dressing and a juicy turkey.  That’s the real deal!  That’s a meal that’s sure to beckon an afternoon nap.  Grandma has been cooking from the heart for so long, it’s hard for her to articulate  cooking in terms step-by-step directions.

Cooking is all about instinct for Grandma, and her measurements are neither metric, nor customary.  I asked Grandma about how long one should cook the gravy before adding the precooked ingredients, she replied “as long as at takes for the gravy to thicken up.”  I suppose that you’ve just got to have the touch.  Here’s Grandma J’s recipe for Giblet Gravy:

Grandma Jeffords Vintage Giblet Gravy
(Adapted for those who have not yet acquired a taste for gizzards;-)

Ingredients: Chicken Broth, Flour, Eggs, Turkey or Chicken, Onions, Celery, Seasoning

Precooked Ingredients: Four Boiled Eggs, One Large Pinch of Pulled Turkey or Chicken Wing Meat

1. Mix two or three tablespoons of flour with 5-6 cups of broth in a saucepan and bring to a low boil.
2. Mix in a few chunks of onion and celery, along with a dashes of salt and a few dashes of pepper.
3. Cook on low until gravy begins to thicken (15 minutes or so).
4. Strain out the onion and celery chunks out if you so desire.
5. Stir in boiled eggs and meat, then simmer for 5-7 minutes.
6. Serve hot in a vintage gravy boat alongside turkey and dressing!

Happy Turkey Day People!  God Bless You!  What’s you favorite Thanksgiving Dish?  Please feel free to share the recipe in the comments section of this post!

For those who enjoy the great outdoors, there are certain days in the field which feel more like being lost in a vivid storybook than living within the boundaries of reality.  For me, a hike across the wiregrass savanna’s and through hardwood bottoms of a Longleaf Pine Forest is like a lullaby to my soul, especially in the fall.  These woods embrace me and facilitate a state of quiet contemplation that brings clarity and renews my resolve.

The landscape of the Longleaf Pine Forest in the fall is a living work of art.  The scene is etched on a giant canvas exploding with faded browns and muted greens, then freckled with clusters of vibrant autumn leaves.  The forest canopy opens her windows each fall to permit cool breezes and soft sunlight to flow freely through the forest.  The fall air is light and crisp, and the sounds of the forest carry for some distance.

The Longleaf Pine Forest ecosystem is indigenous to parts of the Southeast.  Unfortunately, only remnants of this majestic forest are still in existence.  About 3% of this once dominant forest system remains today in small tracts across eight states.  The story of this unique, fire-dependent forest is pretty intriguing.  One small remnant of the once mighty Longleaf Pine Forests exists on my family’s farm in South Georgia.  Experts, who understand things like biodiversity and woodland conservation, refer to this small tract of forest as pristine.  I just call it timeless.

When I find myself alone with my thoughts in the forest, I recall childhood excursions to The Harrisonville Farm (as my family calls it).  My memories are rich, not only because of how fondly I recollect them, but because the landscape actually looks and feels the same.  I don’t have to imagine the setting, I can still see it quite plainly.  Certainly, the forest undergoes subtle changes as old trees fall and new trees grow, but the landscape remains the same.  I can fully visualize an aerial perspective of The Farm in terms of specific natural features of the terrain.  These features have been present since long before me, or anyone else, ever laid eyes on them.

My Grandaddy walked through these same woods as a boy, and as a man.   Perhaps his quiet contemplations were much like mine.  Grandaddy was the son of a farmer.  During the planting and harvesting seasons, Grandaddy lived out on The Farm, so his backyard was a wide-open wilderness with fields and sharecropper shacks interspersed throughout.  His hard-working, simple upbringing served him well.  In the early 1940′s, my Grandaddy was a young man with a promising college football career ahead, but events on the global stage interrupted that path.  Instead of finishing college, Grandaddy became an Amy Officer in WWII.

When I was a child, my Aunt Mary would often tell me one particular story about my Grandaddy and The Farm.  As she told it, Grandaddy carefully considered how we wanted to spend his last full day at home before reporting to the Army.  It was the fall, so he chose to spend a full day afield Quail Hunting with his favorite bird dog.  I don’t know exactly what thoughts passed through Grandaddy’s heart and mind on that monumental fall day seventy years ago, but I do know how this forest feels on a fall morning.  Even though the world has changed around it, that forest landscape is the same.  For me, entering this forest is like stepping back in time to quietly contemplate the opportunities and the challenges of my modern life.

Timeless truths are vividly illustrated on the landscapes of life, we just have to pause and reflect to discover them.

The revelations and insights that come to us during moments of quiet contemplation are connected to timeless truths that have always been there, in the background, waiting for us to discover.

Where and when do you carve out time for quiet contemplation?  

The phrase, made from scratch, awakens our senses with one of life’s simple pleasures, the authentic goodness of freshly prepared entrees and homemade treats.  Growing up in South Georgia, I was often blessed with delectable homemade desserts, tasty appetizers and dishes that can just warm your soul.  My Grandma is a made from scratch specialist.  A few of the amazing things that Grandma makes from scratch are; cornbread dressing with giblet gravy, cheese straws, fried cornbread, divinity, tea cakes (sugar cookies with icing) and peanut brittle.  Are you hungry yet?

When I was a child, eating out was fairly rare.  We did hit the DQ for ice cream pretty regularly, but mostly we dined at home.  A typical lunch at Grandma’s house included an entree, two or three side dishes, dessert and two types of homemade bread.  I still smile when I think about the old tin warmer that often sat atop Grandma’s stove brimming with mounds of fresh biscuits and thinly sliced cornbread.  Did I mention that I’m talking about lunch!?  My favorite meal at Grandma’s was pot-roast with homemade gravy, mashed potatoes, carrots and biscuits.  I know, I making you hungry again.

Made from scratch is a process of skillfully preparing food using a unique blend of ingredients.  It’s truly an art.  It’s more about discovering a recipe than following a recipe.  My wife Amy is a modern day woman, but she’s grounded by classic values and she knows how to make some great food from scratch.  She too grew up in South Georgia, where homemade meals were just woven into our way of life.  In spite of what sometimes seems like semi-controlled chaos at our house, Amy will often bake things from scratch because she knows how much her family, and our friends, enjoy her homemade specialties.

I think it’s safe to say that made from scratch is synonymous with quality.  The food industry goes to great lengths to capitalize on that fact.  Though there’s also something deeply intentional about preparing made from scratch dishes.  It’s a heartfelt, intentional act to prepare quality foods so that other people can enjoy them.  It’s practically a mission for made from scratch artists like my Grandma.  Making something from pure scratch isn’t easy, but worthwhile stuff rarely is.  It’s amazing how small, creative investments into the lives of others can make such a big difference.

A life that creatively and boldly serves others with gladness is a force of nature…    

When I think about some of the more thoughtful things that people have done for me and my family in recent months, two specific things come to mind.  My friend and colleague at Longleaf Church, Stuart Cashwell, also grew up in South Georgia.  Stuart’s Mom and Dad enjoy making homemade cookies and preserves.  The Cashwells have twice shared their homemade goodies with us, and to say the least, they were well received.

Secondly, my family recently spent some time with my brother Jim and his fiance Lauren.  Jim is actually a super serious chef, and he only deals in fresh ingredients when prepping his entrees and desserts.  Jim took several hours to prepare some amazing homemade pizza’s for us during our visit, and he slowly demonstrated the process to our kids.  Made from scratch doesn’t just taste better, it makes other people feel better…

I sometimes feel like much of life comes in a box, or a can, or plastic container.  There’s a lot of conformity in our culture, and sure, much of that conformity is a good thing.  I mean, I’m for obeying the traffic laws, educating our kids and wearing shoes.  Yet, there are opportunities to do something original, something from pure scratch.  God has instilled bold dreams and unique gifts within us, so that we can become creative forces serving a greater good.  We’ve all been fearfully and wonderfully made from pure scratch, and we’re quite capable of blessing and inspiring others through our own original, pure scratch pursuits.

I cannot wait to celebrate the one year anniversary of Longleaf Church this Sunday, September 18 and to share our big, bad, bold vision for year two!! JOIN US!  I remember well the early days of our pure scratch church planting movement, the mountain that we have climbed and the lifelong friends that we have made.  Planting a church from pure scratch is hard work, but the reward comes later, and greater.  It’s truly amazing what blossoms when friends pursue mission-driven, pure scratch endeavors together….

What’s your favorite made from scratch dessert?  Share the recipe if you like!

The 70′s was quite an eventful decade for fashion trends.  Among other things, Disco Trends and Punk Rock Trends emerged in the 70′s.  The dreaded leisure suit also emerged in the 70′s (insert mental image of Cousin Eddie from Christmas Vacation wearing his blue leisure suit here).  The small town that I grew up in wasn’t isolated from fashion trends in the 70′s, but I don’t recall any Punk Rock fashion statements.  For me, the most revolutionary fashion development of the 70′s were those two-tone t-shirts with different colored sleeves and customized iron-on images.  Man, those t-shirts rocked!

The marketplace certainly wasn’t immune to fashion trends in the 70′s.  Almost all businessmen wore a suit to work in the 70′s.  The three-piece suit was actually pretty popular then.  Men typically wore wide-collared shirts and wide ties to compliment matching pants, jackets and vests.  This was before the era of business casual, dressy casual and just plain casual.  My Grandfather was a businessman in the 70′s, but as a man who worked around feed mills, farms and livestock, Grandaddy’s typical business attire was coveralls and boots.  I remember well that he most often wore a green pair of coveralls.  Coveralls were practical for Grandaddy, but they weren’t exactly fashionable out in the mainstream marketplace.

My Grandaddy wasn’t too concerned about how wearing his coveralls around town would impact his image, though most everyone knew that he operated a successful agribusiness.  Grandaddy maintained a quiet confidence under most any set of circumstances.  I don’t mean that he was a quiet man, just that his approach to the challenges and the opportunities at work were balanced and wise.  Grandaddy didn’t need a power suit to create an image, his magnetic personality did that for him.  As it turns out, Grandaddy was a more sophisticated businessman than his coveralls might have conveyed…

My Grandaddy served on several Boards, often as the Chairman.  He was a lay leader in his church, a civic leader and a huge presence in his community.  Grandaddy did have some nice suits, and he wore them on the many occasions.  He understood that dressing appropriately and professionally mattered, but that’s not what defined his work persona.  What defined his success in the marketplace was a quiet strength that transcended his attire.  I’m not discounting the ole dress for success motto, but I am saying that you can’t disguise your attitude, or your work-ethic.  Our identity at work is illuminated by where we place our faith and derive our values.

There’s intense cultural pressure for people to closely associate their identity with their jobs.  We are all intrinsically driven to respond with confidence to that everyday, defining question; “What do you do?”  At certain phases of our working life, our response to this question comes with disclaimers about the temporal nature of our current circumstances, and the details about what we are working towards. Our career aspirations can facilitate amazing future opportunities, but purpose at work is found through embracing today’s opportunities with quiet confidence.  Those who pursue their work with quiet strength are fueled by big faith that reflects the one who designed work in the beginning.

I subscribe a a definition of success that charges us to honor God and do the best we can, where we are, with what we have.  That definition conveys not just working hard and pursuing excellence, but faith and focus.  Success is not about getting results at any cost, it’s about what our work reflects.  The quiet strength and steadfast approach that we see in the lives of the many successful people that we know is derived from the right perspective.  A perspective that’s derived from a defining passage of scripture:

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.  (Colossians 3:23 TNIV)

If you attended Longleaf Church this Sunday, you heard a great message called @work from Jeff Henderson.  Jeff triple-dog-dared Jesus followers to approach work this week with a convicted stance on Colossians 3:23, and to share some thoughts on how that goes.  So, if you accepted this challenge, make a comment below… If you are not a person who has bought-in to following Jesus, love for you to just track along with my blog and consider some of things that we discuss.  I would also love to know from the 70′s kids what your favorite iron-on t-shirt was…..

In the late 1940′s, men and women across America ushered in a revived post-war culture and the baby boom era began.  This remarkable generation had been hardened through The Great Depression, and they had emerged from WWII as one of the most honorable, and the most industrious, generations in the history of our great country.  This generation cherished the simple richness of the American Dream, and they were primed to pursue it.  This generation was driven by values, values that would continue to define a nation.  This generation understood that though challenges are a part of life, an unwavering focus on the right things can establish a foundation that endures.

My Grandfather returned home from The War to Sylvester, GA where he met and married my Grandmother on March 1, 1946.  They started their life together simply.  Grandaddy returned to his roots as farmer, and he moved his young family to the outskirts of town around 1950 to farm a promising plot of land near a very small community called Shingler.  Their home was a small, but cozy, refurbished tenant farmer cottage with wood shingles and heart pine throughout.  Not long after my Grandparents moved out to Shingler, that small corner of the world experienced quite a drought.  In fact, it didn’t rain on their farm for nearly two years.  My Grandma recalls my Grandaddy taking my Dad outside one day when he was two-years old to see and to feel rain for the first time in his life.

As one might imagine, the well went dry on my Grandparents farm in Shingler.  For months and months, Grandaddy would haul a tank of water out to the farm almost daily to temporarily replenish the well.  Sometimes, Grandma would need to take my Dad and my Aunt to my great grandparents home just to give them a bath.  Farming in the midst of a drought was next to impossible in those days, but Grandaddy managed to cultivate some cotton, raise some chickens and grow some vegetables.  Grandaddy and Grandma more than made do, and eventually Grandaddy decided to pursue a career as a Fertilizer Salesman.  His career in agribusiness ultimately grew into a very successful enterprise called Worth Milling Company.  Click HERE to read a post about The Mill…

Recently, I asked my Grandma to recount how she felt, and what she remembered, about those early days of starting a family and farming during a season of drought, on a small farm, in place called Shingler…

My Grandma fondly recollected a rich and happy season of life.  Grandma recalled making play clothes out chicken feed sacks.  She recalls my Dad and my Aunt Ann picking cotton alongside the farm hands with their miniature cotton sacks in tow.  Grandma laughs as she recalls Grandaddy getting home and chasing chickens around the yard because Dad and Ann had let them escape the coop.  She laughs harder as she remembers my Dad and Ann ruining their new green jackets one afternoon because they were trying to see who could cram the most eggs into their pockets.  Grandma remembers when my Uncle Van was born on that farm in Shingler, and how as a school-age boy, after the family had moved into town, he would take the school bus back out to that farm after school to ride horses and go fishing.

Character is measured by how well we honor our values during those seasons when the well runs dry…

There’s a Chick-fil-a and a Kroger about a mile from my house.  We have TWO automatic ice-makers in our home.  I have an iPhone.  Amy and I both have a car to drive.  We have cable TV with DVR.  We have air-conditioning, and typically, there’s no livestock in our front yard.  It’s possible that John Harmon keeps frogs and lizards corralled somewhere, but that’s another story.  Fresh water flows freely from the faucets and fixtures all over our home.  Our closets are full, and so is our pantry.  If just one of the things in our lives that we think are necessities goes awry, you would think that we were enduring an actual hardship.  Our blessings are great, but sometimes our perspective gets skewed, at least mine does.

Imagine values so strong that we actually celebrate them when times are tough.  It’s amazing how brilliantly life can bloom when it’s set against a backdrop of adversity.  It’s amazing how enriching life can be when we can truly appreciate the rain.