Jesse Duplantis - Jambalaya for the Soul

Table of Contents

Pudding

JAMBALAYA FOR THE SOUL

HUMOROUS STORIES AND CAJUN RECIPES FROM THE BAYOU

by Jesse Duplantis

DEDICATION

Thank you to my wife, Cathy, for living through some of these stories with me, for always being behind what God's called me to do and for always saying, "I'm wicha, Jesse!" every step of the way. To my daughter, Jodi, for helping me over the years turn what I preach into what can be read! And to my son-in-law, Eddie, whose original idea to make a tape series of "the funny stuff" brought about this book today.

To everyone who contributed recipes for the book, I want to say a special thanks. The world needs our stuff; it's a bland world out there!

Thanks also to my sister-in-law, Christine, for gathering all the family recipes for this book and, of course, for including her famous banana pudding. To my brother Wayne and my sister Debra for contributing some of our side of the family's recipes

including some of Mama's. (She'd flip to see her stuff in here!) And last but not least, thanks go to one of the best cooks I knowmy mother-in-law, Irene. Nobody, and I mean nobody, can cook an oyster gumbo like you! I'm grateful for every spoonful you've ever made me!

My special thanks to everyone who had a part in this bookespecially the Harrison House family, who worked so hard to get it done. I appreciate you all.

The Bible says, A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones (Proverbs 17:22). I want to invite you to be blessed as you read the following stories. I believe they'll make you laugh, make you shout, make you rejoice, make you do all kinds of crazy things! You're probably going to see me in all different lights as I tell the stories of my life. But I hope you'll be blessed. Realize that being a Christian isn't dullsometimes it's crazy! So get ready to sit down and laugh!

But before you read on, I want you to know ' something.

Every time I've preached the gospel, I didn't say something funny just for it to be funny. There's always a point behind it. So get ready to laugh, but also get ready to get healed and blessed and stirred up for the Lord. Yes, sir, I believe that'll happen.

Why? Because a merry heart does good like a medicine! And if you've got a broken spirit that's drying them old bones up, we'll put some joy juices in there and open you up to the strengthening joy of the Lord!

So you get ready to laugh and be ministered to. Go get a box of popcorn and a Coke, and sit down and enjoy!

FEAR OF A HEADLESS CHICKEN

I had a wonderful grandfather. I would say he was probably one of the best grandfathers a boy could ever have.

When he was only five years old, his mother left him on a New Orleans street wharf. He turned around to look for her, and suddenly he had no mom. He was in trouble, so he walked down to this old Cajun fisherman and said, "Listen, ah, can I go to work on your boat?" He was five years old when he did that! He knew he was in trouble. But that man took him in and raised him.

My grandfather grew up to be a very strong, robust fisherman. He wore a size fifteen ring, and his fingers were as thick as carrots. His hands were wide and powerful, you know, from pulling shrimp nets. He was a tough man, and I idolized him. I called him Paw-paw.

Paw-paw loved oranges. When I was growing up, we lived down in Venice, Louisiana, about ninety miles south of New Orleans. Venice had orange trees, and since Paw-paw loved oranges, he would say, "Jesse, go up that tree and get me some oranges." I'd go up those orange trees and just rip oranges from the branches, knocking him in the head with them. Afterward, he would just sit there and eat them, one after another. He just loved them.

Now, what we were doing was stealing those oranges. My grandpa wasn't saved, and neither was his grandson. You've got to understandwe didn't know we were sinning by doing that.

Once, when both my mother and father had some business to do, they let us stay with Grandpa for a couple of days. When we got there, he said,

"Boys, we gonna eat some chicken. Your grandma's gonna fry some chicken with some gravy."

And I went, "Whoooooo! Yeah, I like that, you know."

He said, "Come on with me, Jesse, I want to show you something."

Now, let me tell you something. We were very, very poor people, and in those days when you wanted a chickenwe called it a fryeryou didn't go to the grocery store to get it. You went in your backyard to the chicken coop. You know what I'm talking about? You ever gone out back to get a chicken? All the people around there raised their own chickens, killed them, plucked the feathers out and cleaned them. You did whatever you needed to do to eat those chickens.

So Paw-paw and I walked back to the chicken coop to get a chicken.

Now, those chickens my grandpa had were the meanest chickens you ever saw. Every one of them was demon possessed. I hated those chickens. Every time I got around those chickens, they'd go, Rhhhhh rhhhh, and then they'd attack. They were mean as dogs. They'd just come at me, Fwwwww fwwwwww and kick me with their feet. They were just plain mean chickensI'd swear they were demon-possessed chickens. You know, they were raggedy looking demon chickens.

When I went into the chicken coop, I said, "I don't want 'em to bite me, Paw-paw."

"Stay behind me, boy," he said. He weighed 260 pounds and was a huge man. So I got behind him, like he said, and he told me, "Now, Jesse, go shoo that chicken into the corner."

"No!" I said. "He's gonna bite me. I don't wanta. I don't wanta shoo that chicken!"

"Come on, son," he said. "Boy, you're part of my life. You've got spitfire in your body. Now get over there and shoo that chicken!"

I crept out from behind my grandpa and quietly started saying, "Shoo, shoo. Shoo, shoo." And by some miracle I got one of those chickens backed into the corner.

"Catch him!" my grandpa said. "Catch him, boy!"

"No!" I said. "I ain't putting my hand on that chicken. That was not in the deal. You just told me to shoo him into the corner. I shooed him in the cornernow you catch him, Paw-paw."

When my grandpa went after that chicken, the chicken knew he was a goner. You could see the terror in that chicken's eyes. It was going, God, forgive me. Today I'll meet You face to face, with a Cajun chewing on my leg as I go to heaven.

Paw-paw grabbed that chicken and said, "Go get me the hatchet, Jesse."

So, man, I ran to get that thing to give it to my grandpa. I was about to see something I had never seen in my life. Never! Paw yelled, "I'm going to show you something, son."

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

"Watch this," he said. He laid that chicken down on the ground and picked up that little hatchet. Pawpaw was looking at me, and then he got a little smile like he was thinking, Heh, heh, heh. You're going to see something now, boy.

When he raised the hatchet, I cried, "What're you going to do, Pawpaw?"

"Just watch, Jess," he said. And boom! Down came his arm with that hatchet. But the chicken went thhhhck and sucked his neck in.

He missed the chicken!

I looked at him and said, "Paw-paw, you missed him!"

"Isn't that something?" he said.

"I'd pull my head in too," I said. He looked at me, smiling, but I was still nervous. Those other chickens were nervous too. They were all screaming, Brrrrrrrrk, brrrrrk. Murder was in the camp, and they knew it. But I didn't.

So he picked up the hatchet again, laid that bird down and said,

"Watch, Jesse."

Now, I was a little fellow, about knee-high, but I was watching really closely. Paw-paw raised the hatchet over his head and brought it down again. Thhhhck went the chicken's neck, and wham! went the hatchet into the ground.

"Paw-paw, you missed him again."