"Pastor Dean and the Salvation of the 20"

It was just before dawn on the rolling hills next to the little white farmhouse, the mist dancing like spirits over the alfalfa field. Pastor Dean stepped out of his back door, coffee in hand and his long purple robe flowing behind him like a banner of royalty and resistance. The birds were quiet — too quiet.

He paused, his boots crunching on the gravel. Something was off.

Then he saw it — a set of paw prints near the chicken coop, scattered feathers, and the distinct sound of wings flapping in distress. His spirit stirred. “Not today, devil,” he muttered. “Not on my watch.”

As he reached the coop, his 20 precious chickens huddled in the corner, eyes wide, some of them clucking prayers under their breath. A raccoon had tried digging under the side. Overhead, a chicken hawk circled like a shadow, and to the west of the treeline, a fox’s yellow eyes watched, waiting for weakness.

Pastor Dean reached for his staff — not just any stick, but the same staff he’d used to anoint the land at LBL. He planted it in the ground and raised his other hand high.

“In the name of Jesus, I declare this coop protected! Angels, surround this place!”

Suddenly, the wind shifted. The hawk flew off. The fox and raccoon scurried away like cowards. But the battle wasn’t over yet.

That night, under the cover of darkness, a man crept up to the coop — the same man who had stolen chickens before. But this time, as he reached for the latch, he heard a soft hum coming from inside the barn. Curious, he looked in and saw Pastor Dean kneeling, praying over the land, with scriptures written in chalk on the barn door:

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” — Psalm 23:1
“He shall cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you shall take refuge.” — Psalm 91:4

The man froze, heart pounding. Something stirred in his memory. A childhood church… a praying mother… a God he’d run from.

Pastor Dean stood and saw the man. There was no fear in his eyes — only compassion.

“I know why you came,” Pastor Dean said gently, “but the chickens aren’t what you’re hungry for. What your soul wants is peace. Come inside. Let me tell you about a Man who died for you… and for these chickens too.”

And so, under the glow of the barn light and surrounded by clucking hens and the smell of fresh straw, Pastor Dean shared the gospel — how Jesus laid down His life even for the lost, the broken, and the chicken thief. The man wept. Not just for his sins, but for how far he had wandered.

The next day, he came back — this time not as a thief, but as a friend, bringing feed and helping Pastor Dean repair the coop.

And from that day on, the 20 chickens became more than birds. They became a testimony. A story of salvation. Of second chances. Of how one preacher in a purple robe stood between darkness and the flock — and shined the light of Christ.