Back in the fall of 2022, right after we packed up and moved to Georgia, I had a dream. And not just any dream. The kind of dream that shakes you to your core, the kind that leaves you questioning reality when you wake up. Now, I won’t get into all the details of the dream just yet (that’s a story for another day), but I will tell you this: it was so real, so vivid, that when I woke up, I still could see a wound on my hand that happened in my dream. We’re talking about a full-blown, gory, “I-should-probably-go-to-the-hospital” nightmare fuel, kind of wound. And the kicker? My hand hurt. Not an “oh, I must’ve slept on it funny” kind of hurt. This was a deep, searing pain, like I’d been stabbed straight through. The vision of the wound disappeared after a while, but the pain lingered most of the day, well into my shift that night.

Now, I’m not saying every dream is from the Lord. As good ol’ Scrooge once said, sometimes it’s just undigested beef. But growing up in the church, I know that God has a way of speaking in all sorts of ways, including dreams. And in that moment, I did what any grown man does when he has a dream that rattles his soul…I called my Father.

Now, this is where you might expect me to say, Yes! I called on my Heavenly Father! Nope. I mean, yes, eventually. But first, I screamed for Daddy, just instead of from in bed, it was from Facebook messenger. My dad’s been a pastor for a long time. I like to joke that he started preaching back with John Wesley preaching in Savannah. (Sorry, Dad.) But when I asked if he had any experience with dream interpretation, he just said, “Nope, but I know a guy.”

Enter “Joe.” (Not his real name, because, well, I didn’t ask permission to use it.) Joe pastors a church up in New England, and let me tell you, this man is the real deal. You ever meet someone and immediately think, oh, this guy talks to God at the Moses level? That’s Joe. The anointing on this man is unreal.

So, I set up a time to talk with him, walked him through the dream, and he helped me unpack what everything meant. But then, he hit me with something that humbled me to my core. He said, God has a plan and an anointing for you…a BIG one…but you’ve been running from it. Stop it. Right now. God is saying, “Crap or get off the pot,” because if you don’t start walking in it, He’s going to give it to someone else. The line in the sand has been drawn.

Yeah…that stung. And, of course, I’ve had some “church folks” push back, saying, God wouldn’t do that! But, uh… yes, He would. And He has. We’ve seen it in the Bible more than once. Moses was supposed to lead the Israelites into the Promised Land; except, whoops, Joshua had to do it instead. Saul was supposed to have a dynasty, but his kingship got handed over to David, and his bloodline lost the throne. It happens.

But here’s the part that sticks with me the most: Joe didn’t just drop that truth bomb and walk away. He offered to mentor me to come alongside me as I figured out what stepping into that calling looked like. And if it weren’t for that hospitality, his willingness to take the time, to listen, to tell me the hard truth, and to guide me through it. I can tell you; I wouldn’t be where I am today if it was not for him.

And that, my friends, is the power of true, godly hospitality. It’s not just about meals and handshakes, it’s about walking alongside people, helping them see the line in the sand, and making sure they don’t trip over it.

Joshua 24 isn’t just a history lesson; it’s a full-blown leadership masterclass wrapped in a covenant renewal. It’s a moment of checking in, calling up, and sending out. If you’ve ever wondered how hospitality fits into the grand scheme of faith, Joshua lays it all out right here. It’s not just about making people feel welcome, it’s about inviting them into something deeper, walking with them, and knowing when to step back and letting them grow.

So, let’s break it down:

Step 1: The Check-In (Verses 1-13)

Joshua gathers all the tribes at Shechem, which, in ancient Israelite terms, is the equivalent of calling a family meeting. And not just any meeting, the kind where Dad sits everyone down and says, “Alright, let’s talk about how we got here.” But instead of bringing out embarrassing childhood stories, Joshua lays out God’s track record.

He reminds them of everything God has done, from Abraham’s calling to the Exodus from Egypt, through the wilderness, and into the Promised Land. It’s like a highlight reel of divine intervention, a reminder that they didn’t get here on their own.

Stop treating it like a one and done task, How often do we show hospitality and think our job is done? We invite someone over, serve a great meal, maybe even have a deep conversation, but then what? Joshua reminds us that true hospitality is ongoing. It’s not just about serving food, it’s about creating a space where people feel like they belong.

Checking in with people matters. It’s easy to assume they’re fine, but real hospitality means following up. Are they still growing? Are they still walking the path? If all we do is offer a meal without offering a relationship, we’ve missed the point. If we aren’t keeping up with those we serve, we’re just running a drive-thru, not building a community.

Step 2: The Line in the Sand (Verses 14-15)

Now, Joshua isn’t one for half-measures. He looks the people dead in the eye and says, “Alright, enough reminiscing, what’s it going to be? You either serve the Lord, or you go chase after the false gods of your ancestors. But as for me and my house? We serve the Lord.”

Boom. Line drawn. No waffling, no second-guessing.

Hospitality Lesson: Invite Others to Stand With You

It’s not enough to serve people, you must invite them into something greater. Joshua is essentially saying, “Look, I’ve made my choice. I know where I stand. But what about you?”

Hospitality isn’t just about welcoming people; it’s about challenging them. It’s easy to feed someone and send them on their way, but real hospitality is discipleship. If all we do is meet people’s physical needs but never invite them to grow spiritually, we’ve only done half the job.

When we extend hospitality, we should also extend an invitation to something deeper. Whether it’s a friendship, a faith walk, or a community, people need to know they’re welcome not just in our homes, but in our lives. My sister and Robyn and I often say a phrase to each other, “ministry isn’t what you do, it’s who you are”; the same goes for hospitality. If you never take away anything else from what I say but you get that, I would be just as happy.  

Step 3: The Reality Check (Verses 19-27)

Now, the Israelites are all pumped up. They hear Joshua’s speech, and they’re shouting back, “Yes! We will serve the Lord!” They’re practically fist-pumping, ready to commit.

But Joshua, in full veteran-leader mode, basically says, “Are you sure? Because this isn’t a game.” He warns them that serving God is serious business. It requires sincerity, faithfulness, and a willingness to stay committed when things get tough. He even sets up a stone as a witness, like a permanent reminder of their vow, an ancient version of “no takebacks.”

Hospitality Lesson: Be Honest About the Cost

True hospitality isn’t just warm and fuzzy, it comes with heartache, disappointment, and sometimes betrayal. We love the idea of opening our doors, but the reality is, relationships are messy. People will let you down. They will walk away. Some will take what you offer and never come back.

But here’s the kicker: we do it anyway.

Joshua reminds us that following God isn’t about convenience, it’s about commitment. And that applies to hospitality, too. If we only serve when it’s easy, we’re not really serving. Hospitality means sticking around when things get complicated, having hard conversations, and walking with people through their struggles.

Yes, it can break your heart. But the reward? It’s worth every tear.

Step 4: The Send-Off (Verses 28-33)

The chapter wraps up with Joshua dismissing the people to go claim their inheritance. He doesn’t micromanage them. He doesn’t hold their hand. He lets them go. When Joshua finally passes away, the elders take up the mantle, keeping the people on the right track.

Hospitality Lesson: Let People Grow and Go

The Church I grew up in had a mantra: “Win, Equip, Send.” Sending might just be the hardest part of hospitality: knowing when to step back. Whether it’s our kids, new believers, or people we’ve mentored, our job isn’t to keep them under our wing forever.

Too often, we cling too tightly. We want control. We think, “They’re not ready yet.” But if we don’t let people step into their own calling, we stunt their growth.

Hospitality is about empowerment. It’s about equipping people so they can stand on their own. Just like Joshua didn’t hold onto leadership forever, we must recognize when it’s time to shift from teacher to co-laborer.

If we don’t allow relationships to evolve, we end up hurting them. More often than not, we damage what we’re trying to build by refusing to let people step into their own.

Final Thoughts: The Hospitality Cycle

Joshua 24 teaches us that hospitality isn’t just about a warm welcome, it’s about walking with people, challenging them, and then empowering them to do the same for others.

Think about it:

After we have built a relationship We;

Check in (because relationships need maintenance).

Challenge (because hospitality without discipleship is just customer service).

Tell the truth (because pretending things are easy helps no one).

And let go (because hospitality is about equipping, not controlling).

If we’re only serving meals but not making disciples, we’re just running a restaurant, not a ministry.

So, let’s check in with people. Let’s challenge them to stand with us. Let’s be real about the cost. And when it’s time, let’s release them to go and do the same.

That’s how we build something that lasts.

Now, who’s ready to roll out the welcome mat and get to work?

Stay Salty.

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