Working in the kitchen for over 25 years has taught me a lot. Some lessons came in little bites over time, others hit like a flaming sauté pan to the face. Now, my wife… bless her heart… has not spent 25 years in a professional kitchen. And, in our early days of marriage, that fact became painfully, sometimes hilariously, clear at dinnertime.

One particular dish, comes to mind. The very first dinner she ever cooked as my wife. We had been asked to house-sit for my parents, keeping an eye on my younger siblings and my grandmother. Wanting to impress her new husband and the whole family, my wife threw herself into making dinner. She decided on meatloaf. Classic, right? Comforting, homey, simple… in theory.

When she called us to the table, she proudly presented the dish. And, well… it was definitely loaf-shaped. And it probably contained meat. I’ll never forget the moment. My younger brother leaned over and whispered, “What is that?” I shot him a look and muttered, “It’s dinner. If I have to eat it, so do you.”

But the real dagger came from my sweet, soft-spoken, wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly Southern grandmother, Mama. She took one look at the plate, then at my wife, then at me, and calmly announced, “I have a can of soup upstairs,” before standing up and leaving.

My poor wife was devastated. And like any good husband would in that moment, I did the only reasonable thing…I lied. I told her it was great, kept a straight face, and ate every last bite.

Fast forward a few years, and my wife, ever the brave soul, decided it was time for a rematch with meatloaf. This one was… less loaf-shaped. And she claimed it was meat. But before I even opened the oven, I swear I could hear Latin being chanted backwards from inside. We ended up needing to call in the Ghostbusters, Mystery Inc., and the Winchester brothers. After they all took one look and said, “Yeah… you’re on your own, man,” I resorted to the only weapon left in the house, completely out of holy water, I hurled ketchup at it while screaming, “The power of Christ compels you!”

After that, meatloaf was banned in our home for a very, very long time.

But then, years later, my wife made meatballs. And you know what? They were good. Dare I say… great. Now, anyone who has made meatballs knows that a meatloaf is just a badly shaped meatball. But here’s where I messed up, I didn’t celebrate her win like I should have. I didn’t acknowledge how big of a deal it was for her to take another shot at something that had haunted our kitchen like a culinary poltergeist.

So, right here and now, I want to say, Hannah, I’m sorry. I should’ve made a bigger deal out of those meatballs. You crushed it that night. And I should’ve let you know just how proud I was of you.

Also, if you ever want to try making meatloaf again… just, uh, give me a heads-up so we can pray up and anoint the house first.

Life’s a wild ride, isn’t it? We’re all racing to hit milestones, achieve goals, and cross off to-dos. But here’s the thing, how often do we actually hit the brakes to celebrate the wins, big or small? Too often, we treat victories like they’re just the bare minimum. “Oh, you succeeded? Great, moving on.” No high-five, no shout-out, just a shrug and a quick pivot to the next thing. But what if we’re missing out on something deeper, something richer? Let’s dive into what it means to truly celebrate wins, recognize achievements, and show generosity in how we allocate credit, to others and to God.

Here’s a truth bomb: a small win for one person might be a massive victory for someone else. Think about that friend who’s been trying to quit smoking for years and finally goes a week without a cigarette. To them, that’s a huge, life-altering moment. Or that coworker who finally cracks the code on making decent coffee after years of creating what tastes like boiled sadness. These are wins worth celebrating. The problem is, we’re conditioned to see success as a spectrum. If it’s not a gold medal or a standing ovation, it barely registers. That’s messed up.

We’re meant to celebrate each other. Not just the promotions, the engagements, or the new babies, but the everyday victories; like waking up and choosing to fight another day. Celebrating is about saying, “I see you. I’m with you. And I’m proud of you.”

Now let’s talk about giving credit where credit is due. This one hits hard, doesn’t it? How often do we gloss over someone’s effort or downplay their role in a success story? It’s like giving someone half a trophy and saying, “This is all you get because I’m keeping the rest.” That’s not how this works. Recognition is a form of generosity. When you share credit, you’re not just patting someone on the back, you’re lifting them up. You’re saying, “Hey, your contribution mattered, and I’m better because of it.”

But let’s get real for a second. The place we mess this up the most isn’t just with people; it’s with God. How often do we forget to give Him credit for what we have and what He’s done? Spoiler alert: way too often. We’re quick to pat ourselves on the back for our hard work, but who gave us the strength, the resources, the opportunities? Exactly. God deserves the ultimate shout-out.

Now, let’s shift gears to the book of Joshua. Chapters 11-19 read like an epic adventure, think Lord of the Rings but with fewer hobbits and more divine intervention. This isn’t just a story about conquering land; it’s a masterclass in hospitality, celebration, and generosity. Let’s break it down.

Picture this: Joshua and the Israelites are up against a coalition of northern kings who thought teaming up would make them unstoppable. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. With God as their strategist, the Israelites wipe the floor with them. It’s a classic case of “if God is for us, who can be against us?”

God’s guidance here is like the ultimate act of hospitality, creating a safe space for His people to thrive. Hospitality isn’t just about offering someone a cup of tea; it’s about making them feel secure, valued, and cared for. When you have a chance to show hospitality, whether it’s a dinner party or a simple coffee date, think about how you can create an environment where people feel safe enough to let their guard down. Just, you know, leave the flying burgers out of it.

This chapter is basically a highlight reel of victories. It lists all the kings the Israelites defeated, kind of like a trophy case on display for everyone to see.

Celebration is woven into the fabric of community. When we acknowledge achievements, we’re not just boosting someone’s ego; we’re building them up and strengthening bonds. Whether it’s someone’s first time hosting Thanksgiving or finally nailing grandma’s biscuit recipe, these moments matter. Call them out, celebrate them, and let people know their wins aren’t just noticed, they’re appreciated.

Here, Joshua starts handing out land like it’s candy on Halloween. Sure, there’s more to conquer, but he ensures everyone gets their fair share.

This is where we see generosity in action. Joshua’s leadership ensures that everyone, from the biggest tribe to the smallest, gets what they need. It’s a reminder that true hospitality is about fairness and generosity. Think about your own table. Are you making sure everyone gets a slice of the pie? Or are you hoarding the good stuff for yourself?

These chapters dig deeper into how the land is divided among the tribes. Spoiler: it’s not just about geography; it’s about legacy, promises kept, and God’s faithfulness.

Hospitality isn’t just about what happens in the moment; it’s about the long game. When you make a promise, keep it. When you offer someone a seat at your table, make sure they feel like they belong there. Joshua’s careful distribution of the land is a testament to the importance of honoring commitments. It’s a reminder that hospitality is as much about integrity as it is about generosity.

Celebrate Wins, Big and Small: Don’t downplay achievements. Acknowledge them, celebrate them, and let people know they matter.

Be Generous with Credit: Whether it’s recognizing a friend’s effort or giving God the glory for His blessings, be generous in allocating credit.

Create Safe Spaces: Hospitality is about more than food and drinks; it’s about making people feel secure and valued.

Honor Commitments: Just like Joshua honored God’s promises, we’re called to honor the promises we make to others.

So, here’s the challenge: the next time someone in your life scores a win, no matter how small, celebrate it. Be the loudest cheerleader in the room. And when you reflect on your own victories, remember to give credit where it’s due, especially to the One who’s made it all possible. Life’s too short not to celebrate, recognize, and share generously. Let’s make sure our tables, our lives, and our hearts reflect that truth.

Stay Salty Friends