Posted in communication, Family, life, loving others, marriage, Scripture, Southern born

Pouder and Poud

 “I will also give him a white stone, and on the stone a new name is inscribed that no one knows except the one who receives it.” Revelation 2:17 

What in the world is a “Poud?” In my Grits storying I often talk about my wife Judy.  A while back I mentioned her nickname and someone asked, “What is the story there?”  Well, I am glad you asked.  Admittedly, it is a rather unusual nickname. It goes something like this.  A long, long time ago, before I was around and when Judy was young, one of her brothers stated calling her “Judy Poudy.”  Since she was the last of nine siblings, maybe they ran out of creativity? Anyway, I am assuming it was because it rhymed.  Sometime later, the family shortened the name and started calling her “Poud.”

As the years rolled by, she was “Poud” this and “Poud” that.  Well, finally, in the fulness of time (you know, like the Bible), I showed up on the stage of her life.  After we met at church it was soon time to meet parents and finally her extended family. There probably aren’t enough letters in the alphabet or adjectives in the English language to describe this crazy bunch of South Georgians. Let it be enough to say that they believed in having fun and telling tall tales.  Oh, the things one learns from sitting around their table at family gatherings and just watching and listening! Get them in a room together and the tales would start and wrapped up in those tales would be the occasional “Poud” this and “Poud” that.

Well, that could be the end of the story, but it isn’t.  You see, this crazy bunch of South Georgians knew how to make a guy feel right at home and before long I was the object of several stories, some true and some not…. and some of those stories caused me to end up with my own nickname, “Pouder.”  Now I’ll leave it to your imagination how that came about, but the new couple in the Allen clan had a new name—“Poud” and “Pouder.”  Finally, after years of marriage, we decided to make it easier by simply calling each other “Poud.”  It goes something like this, “Hey Poud?”  And the other would simply reply with “Yes, Poud.”  It doesn’t matter much now, but when we get old, it should at least be convenient.

It’s funny (no pun intended) how “Judy” became a “Judy Poudy” and together we became “Poud” and “Pouder.”  New relationships sometimes generate a new name and that is just what God does for us.  When we join His family, whatever we once were slips away and we become something new—one of His children…His son or daughter.

In the Bible, there was a woman who had an unclean issue of blood. Basically, that meant she wasn’t welcome anywhere…especially at church and because of her sickness she only knew the scorn and harshness of those around her.  But one day she met Jesus and He healed her and gave her a new name—daughter.  And when we meet Jesus…well, whatever the world and those around us used to called us, no matter how condemning, that all changes and He calls us His. I love that.

There is a scripture in the last Book in the Bible, the Revelation, and it says that one day God will give us a new name.  It says there, “I will also give him a white stone, and on the stone a new name is inscribed that no one knows except the one who receives it.”  I don’t know what all that means but I do know it will be special.  To be called His son is amazing enough but to know that He has a special name for me, for us…well, that is incredible.

I hope you have made the decision to be called His child.  It’s not just church, it’s certainly not religion—it is a relationship with Creator God.  And that unknown and special name…well, we will just have to wait and see what that is all about.  One thing is certain—it will be special and He’s got it reserved just for me and just for you.  Until then we will just have to wait and trust that…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Grace, life, love, marriage, Scripture, thankful, USA

Flag Day

 “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the expanse proclaims the work of his hands.” Psalm 19:1

It was for better or worse.  In a little more than a week my wife and I will celebrate our 49th wedding anniversary.  I know if you have ever seen us you would find that hard to believe because we look so young.  Smile.  The years have flown by so quickly.  I can remember the days we would go to a conference and something and they would introduce the guest speaker saying they had been married for 35 years or so.  The crowd would erupt in applause.  I would think how old they were.  I am now that person.  But they say that age is just a number and that’s true.

When I married Judy that hot (and I do mean hot) June day in South Georgia we made a commitment to each other.  It went something like this, “for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health till death do us part.”  It was a deal we made with each other that no matter what we were stuck on (and not stuck with) each other.  We decided that we were in this for the long haul.  There have been speed bumps, detours and even a few fender benders but love somehow learns to forgive, and sometimes ignore, those.

I bet you think this story is about marriage, didn’t you?  Got you.  Nope, it is about my love for this country.  Tomorrow, June 14th, is Flag Day.  When I pastored, it always garnered a place on our church marquee and a mention in the sermon intro. Oh, and I also worn a flag pin.  But it had a much bigger place in my heart.  I love my country, the land where God put me, America…not because it is perfect but because I could  stand every week in our church and say what I want…and no one was going to arrest me.  I love America because it is still the land of the free.  I am writing this after a return from Kentucky.  I didn’t need anyone’s permission to leave; I just got in the car and off Judy and I went.  Yup, I love America. Having lived in and visited over twenty-five countries in this world…I have seen and experienced many others and America still tops the list.

You are probably wondering, “Dewayne, with all its warts and imperfections, with all its injustices and wrongs, with all its junk, how can you love America?”  Well, the answer is two fold.  One, from where I sit, it is still the best place in the world to live.  Its landscape and people-scape are just amazing.  It is filled with people willing to die for what they believe…that is why we are free.  It is a place where you can speak your mind and even protest a wrong.  The second reason is I signed up for the long haul.  Its kinda like the deal that Judy and I made.  “For better, for worse; for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health till death parts us.” I’m an American till the end.

Judy loves me…a lot.  She somehow manages to love me in spite of my failures and faults.  It kinda reminds me of God.  He just refuses to give up on us.  He extends grace and mercy and works to make us more and more like Him. With that comes a better me.  As we work to make America a better place to live and work, as we extend grace and mercy to each other, we are mirroring Him.  Sounds like a good plan to me.

Like I said earlier, tomorrow is Flag Day.  When I look at Old Glory I see the rich history, imagine the price that countless men and women have paid for this experiment in democracy and fall in love all over again.  And in these stars and stripes I see the hope not only for you and me, not only for America but for the world.  I see the gospel according to Old Glory.  I know each color and each part of the flag has special meaning but allow me some liberty…pun intended.

When I see the field of stars I am reminded that in Psalm 19:1 “the heavens declare the glory of God.” It reminds me that every star in the sky is a witness to the existence of God. The blue field reminds me that there is a King in heaven.  Blue is the color of royalty and it points to the King of the universe…the creator of all.  His name is Jesus and He loves everybody regardless of skin color, language spoken or place lived.  The red reminds me of the measure of this King’s love..He died on a Roman cross.  He was not murdered and He wasn’t even martyred…He willingly died.  The payment for sin…all sin…was death and He paid the price. Amazing.

And the white…well that is my favorite color for it stands for forgiveness.  White shouts that my sins are forgiven, that I am free and that I can call the Creator of the universe, Abba Father or “Dearest Daddy.”  I know you might think I’m taking a little too much liberty with that title but that is what He is.

Anyway, I’m grateful for a wife who loves me regardless of my shortcomings.  I am grateful for a place to call home that gives me the freedom to live, worship and believe as I see fit.  Perfect? Not even by a long shot but I’m gonna stick around and do what I can to make her better.  I’m gonna stick around and make sure the America my grandkids grow up is even better that the one I knew and know.  And I am very grateful for a God that loves me unconditionally, that He is big enough to handle all the fears and warts of life and big enough to give me a place to rest…in Him.  Oh, and I’m glad that He is big enough to conquer sin, death and grave because it just proves…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in forgiveness, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God

Uphill/Downhill

 “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” 1 John 1:9

In one way it was so easy…the other…so hard.  Several years ago, after an extended break, I decided to  start riding my bike again.  I’ve been walking for quite a while…actually since I was about two. Just kidding…not that kind of walking…the exercise kind.  Ever since I fell way out of love with any sort of running, walking has been my go-to exercise.  I’m pretty good at it too.  I can still “pick ‘em up and put ‘em down.”  I usually walk a mile in about sixteen minutes…which isn’t half bad.

They say it is good to change up your exercise routine, so I pulled out my trusty, older Diamondback bike, aired up the tires and started riding again.  My bike may be a couple of decades old, but she is still a good riding machine.  I knew, in spite of my regular walking, that biking was going to be a little challenging.  The reason?  Different muscles. The muscles you use to walk and the ones you use to pedal are totally different. So, I could definitely feel the pain…especially going uphill.

While Harrisburg doesn’t have any real hills, we definitely have some uphill grades and my legs let me know right away when I was there.  I usually do an out and back which means going out I can coast down the hill but coming back seven miles later it is ouch city. By the time I reach the top of “the hill” my heart rate has jumped, and my legs are feeling the burn.  Isn’t that funny…same road but different direction with dramatically different results. Remember, it is always easier to go downhill than up. Always.

The other day I was thinking about that principle when it occurred to me how true it is when it comes to sin and repentance.  The road to sin (you know the stuff that God says not to do) is always downhill.  It is way too easy to coast right into a mess and the further you go…the bigger the mess.  So, let’s say you decide enough is enough and you decide to turn around.  Yup, the uphill ride to repentance is never as easy as the ride out was.  Gratefully, God is always there to help you home, but it still takes His power and our will power to stay on course.

Someone said that no matter how far we have walked away from God, the return trip is only one step…the first one.  While that is true, we still have to feed the determination to stay the course because that downhill slope is always calling us to go back. Me and a bunch of other imperfect people are so grateful for 1 John 1:9 which says, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” It’s great to know that His grace will be waiting on us to carry us…even push uphill toward home.  Always, and I do mean always, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, heaven, life, Scripture, thankful

The End Isn’t the End

 “The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display His craftsmanship.” Psalm 19:1

It seemed like the end of the road…but it wasn’t.  My wife Judy and I live in Southern Illinois.  I know, when you think of Illinois you think about Abraham Lincoln and Chicago but believe me there is a whole lot more to Illinois than that.  The part of Illinois that we call home is south, way south.  Our nook and cranny of Illinois, which is right at the Shawnee National Forest, is crammed full of natural beauty.  Lush forests, rock bluffs, waterfalls, and hiking trails galore are but a few of our treasures.

Often Judy and I will get in our car and just drive. One of our favorite drives takes us up to U.S. Highway 1 heading east.  The area is pure country with plenty of green scenery and rolling hills.  The road ends in a small town called Cave-In-Rock.  There are a few stores, a couple of restaurants and, you guessed it, a large cave in a rock.  The story goes that the cave was used by river pirates.  Fess Parker’s movie, “The River Pirates” was filmed there.  It is worth seeing–both the cave and the movie.  But there is one more thing that grabs my attention.

You see, U.S. Highway 1 ends at Cave-In-Rock and it ends by running right into the Ohio River.  You are traveling down on this really, nice road and all of a sudden…boom…you’re done…no more road.  The end.  But guess what?  It’s not really the end because right there in town where the road ends, is an old-fashioned, but fully functioning, ferry.  It is provided free of charge for those who need to keep going to the other side…to Kentucky. It turns out, about every 15 or 20 minutes the ferry makes a run carrying people to the other side.  So, what you thought was the end…wasn’t.

A while back I did a funeral for a real nice lady and told the crowd gathered there that it seems when we go to cemeteries that all the headstones seem to say, “The end” but I told them that isn’t necessarily so.  I told them that the end didn’t have to be the end, but rather a new beginning. I also told them about how a man, a man we shouldn’t know anything about, changed everything by dying and then coming back to life.  I told them that He promised that if we would believe in Him and what He did, that He would give us life eternal, too. That means that death isn’t a dead end, but a way for us to get from here, where things are broken, to a place called heaven where they aren’t.

I know, I know.  Sounds a little old fashioned?  Sounds a little archaic? But maybe it should sound like something else…like hopeful.  Maybe, just maybe it is worth checking out.  Some people think things like God, heaven and hope are just crutches to lean on, but I think something different.  I think they are a reality…something that each of us need to investigate.  When I look around at all this beauty in my part of the world, I just get the sneaking suspicion that it is too grand to be an accident. When I look up and see a zillion stars, they all seem to be saying, “Hey, God created us.” Yup, I have a feeling that it was created by Someone.  Amazingly a whole chunk of the world agrees.

I hope this Grits might at least stir your interest in the hope that Jesus can give.  I mean it is worth checking out since 100% of us are going to come to an end out there somewhere.  Why not check it out?  God can handle our doubts and accusations so don’t worry about offending Him.  Go to Him with your questions and listen carefully.  You might just hear a gentle whisper as He tells you He loves you and yes, “He’s got this.”         Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture

When We Need A Win

 “Catch the foxes for us, the little foxes that spoil the vineyards.” Song of Solomon 2:15

 It was one of those days…and I needed a win.  Well, it was Saturday and as days go that should have been a good thing…and I suppose in the scope of the universe it was. But closer to home in my universe, it was a bit more challenging.  I’ve learned that the things that make things challenging aren’t usually the big, scary monsters of life but rather the little things that go sideways. And it isn’t one small thing but rather when there is an avalanche of them.  Solomon said in the Song of Songs (a book about love in the Jewish and Christian Old Testament), “Catch the foxes for us, the little foxes that spoil the vineyards.” Let me translate that for you, “Watch out for the little things that come your way, so they don’t spoil your day.” I guess I wasn’t watching.

I decided to begin the day by mowing and trimming the yard.  I also decided to trim first and mow second.  Bad choice. My string trimmer normally is pretty cooperative but that day it decided not to be. I primed, pulled, choked, unchoked, and pulled some more.  The answer was no, no and no so I went and got the mower and started mowing. By then I was a little hot and more than a little bothered.  When I finished, I tried the trimmer again and this time it decided to start and I told it, “Why didn’t you do that to start with?” Why indeed?

I finished the yard and went inside to have a late shower and breakfast and then decided to mess with one of my clocks. I had messed with it a couple of days before. It was running when I started and not running when I finished. Bummer.  So, every time I looked at the clock that proudly showed the wrong time, I was reminded of my failure. I had an idea of what was wrong, so I took it off the wall and messed with it again. Turns out that wasn’t the problem so my clock was still messed up and I had an epic fail. Before putting it back together (this was one of those large, wind-up clocks) I went to the kitchen for something and I prayed a five-word prayer, “Lord, I need a win.” That was it.

I put the clock back together and back on the wall, and, just for fun, gave the pendulum a push and guess what happened…the clock started ticking and tocking and well, it is still running. Now what was that all about?  Well, for me there is only one answer—God heard the simple, five word prayer from one of His kids.  It wasn’t profound and it wasn’t even spiritual—in fact, it may have been just a hair selfish—but my Dearest Daddy agreed that day—I needed a win—and answered my prayer. How about that?

It’s so good, so reassuring to know that we have a Father who is not too busy to hear us in the biggest and smallest moments of our lives. Sometimes it’s a yes, sometimes it’s a no, and sometimes it is a later but always, He hears.  Take that one to the bank…my Father, your Father loves us and cares for us.  No matter what, we can always know that “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, gratitude, life, love, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

At 217

 “The Lord directs the steps of the Godly. He delights in every detail of their lives.” Psalm 37:23

It stands tall.  When we moved to 217 West Poplar Street in 2000 our yard was a blank slate.  The house had sat empty for more than a few years and while someone made sure the grass was cut, no one cared if it was beautiful.  When my wife Judy came…all that began to change. Somewhere along her journey she acquired what can only be described as a green thumb. She has a way with plants that causes them to grow…to thrive.  What was once a blank slate is now a garden, lush and green, with many kinds of plants, trees, and flowers.

Her style, though planned, is not one that is starchy or stiff.  The flowers and plants are allowed to grow freely…to multiply.  While there are times when pruning has to be done and digging has to occur, largely they are allowed to “bloom where they are planted.”  The best example of that is Herbert the tree.  I need to tell you that I only recently named the tree Herbert.  I thought it might add more human interest to the story.  Anyway, several years ago, a maple tree began to grow in one of our flower beds.  Now, honestly, that usually doesn’t end well for the tree.  But this one, well, somehow his story turned out differently.

Herbert started growing too close to the fence in our front yard.  I can say with certainty that he was probably cut down a couple of times and each time he came back.  So finally, somehow, we decided to let him grow—and he did.  Time gets away from us all and it may be longer than I think, but I think Herbert is now about seven years old.  He has grown from a little maple sapling into a 30-foot-tall tree.  He was planted by nature, but it was our decision to let him grow…to bloom where he was planted.  I’m glad we did.

Herbert is now big enough to provide shade in our front yard and he also adds depth and dimension to our yard. Oh, and now, for the first time, when I rake leaves in the fall, at least some of them are mine and not my neighbor’s.  Somehow that is satisfying. A friend says I should have cut Herbert down a long time ago…you know, wrong place. But I told him that we were going to give him a chance.  While the place nature put him isn’t the best, he is a constant reminder to us that we should grow, to flourish, wherever God plants us.

Our life has been a series of great adventures.  While some folks choose to grow in the same community all of their lives and maybe live in the same house…well, ours has been different.  It really wasn’t us making the call…I believe it was a sovereign God working and planning what He thought best for us.  Our path isn’t your path, but it was the one that God chose for us.  One of the writers of the Jewish hymnbook in what we call the Old Testament said, “The Lord directs the steps of the Godly. He delights in every detail of their lives.”  In other words, life, and especially the life of someone who follows Jesus, isn’t a series of accidents and circumstances but rather the handiwork of a Master Gardener. And for those Jesus followers, well that Master Gardener just happens to be their Dearest Daddy.

So, when you drive by our house on Poplar Street look at Herbert.  He lives by the alley and by the fence on the East side of our front yard.  Notice that he is closer to the fence than he should be but also remember that he is simply, “blooming where he was planted.”  It seems to be working out well for Herbert and guess what?  It seems to work out well for us humans too. Regardless of where you’ve been planted and regardless of the soil—just keep trusting the Master Gardner…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in gratitude, Integrity, life, Military memories, Scripture, thankful

The Longest Day

 “But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, will teach you all things and remind you of everything I have told you.” John 14:26

It was more than the title for a movie.  One by one they are slipping away.  Who?  That generation newsman and author Tom Brokaw called the greatest generation.  This generation was born and lived through the Great Depression.  Their words and testimonies fill pages and pages of books and blogs.  Words like, “we were poor but didn’t know it” or like “we had nothing but each other…and that was more than enough” ring of their wisdom and courage.

But it would seem that living and surviving the great depression was just a warmup for their finest hour…that would begin with the bombing of Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. That day, the day that President Franklin Roosevelt said, “would live in infamy,” marked the start of our country’s direct involvement in World War II.  Before it was all over, almost four years later, America would see 1,076,245 causalities.  That number includes 291,557 combat dead, 113,842 who died from other causes and 670,840 wounded.

One Memorial Day I heard a phrase I had heard before but this time it seemed to shout at me.  It simply said, “Freedom isn’t free.”  As I listened that day, I was freshly amazed at this generation of men and women, 16.7 million of them, who served during World War II. They marched off, self-forgotten, to strange lands and places and many of them would never come home.  Like I said, I was amazed.

Today, June 6th, 2025, is the 81th anniversary of what has been called, “The Longest Day.” It was the day that thousands of soldiers, airmen and sailors, with thousands of ships and planes invaded Normandy, France to begin the retaking of Europe from the grip of Nazi Germany and the Axis powers.  The courage of those men who stormed those beaches is legendary.  Imagine with me small boats, called Higgins boats, riding the waves towards Normandy with shells exploding all around.  Imagine with me seeing many, too many, of these boats literally disappearing after taking a direct hit from enemy shells. Imagine knowing that each of these boats carried several dozen men.  Sacrifice. Courage. Amazing.

There probably are not words that can describe that day.  Films like, “The Longest Day” and “Saving Private Ryan” have tried to tell the story but though their efforts are valiant they always fall short.  That day, 6,603 Americans were killed, missing, or wounded. Imagine again, as officers knocked on doors and telegrams arrived, “The Defense Department regrets to inform you…” Freedom truly isn’t free.  I know we know but I only hope we won’t forget.  Yet in most minds, this observance of “The Longest Day” won’t garner a passing thought.

When the children of Israel of Old Testament fame were crossing over into the Promised Land, they were told to take twelve stones from the middle of the Jordan River.  The sole purpose of these stones was to remind them of the miracle and the day.  That way when years later and their memories were foggy, they had the stones to remind them.  I’m not sure what stone of reminder we need but it might be as simple as a visit to the cemetery and taking the time to READ the markers and stones of those who served.  It might be as simple as taking your kids with you to show them and teach them about sacrifice and courage.  Unfortunately, it may not be taught any place else.

December 7, 1941. June 6, 1944. These are only two dates of many that are worthy of remembrance…but they are a start. Jesus knew we would need help remembering about the things of God.  That is why He said, “But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and remind you of everything I have told you.” And who knows, perhaps that same Holy Spirit will help us remember to be grateful for the sacrifice others have made on our behalf.  In fact, I’m sure He will help because that is what He does best…help. Like everything else, I’m sure, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, food, life, money, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God

Faith and Shifting Sand

 “God is not a man, that He might lie, or a son of man, that He might change His mind.” Numbers  23:19a

Well, I just don’t understand it.  You know, there are some things in this world that just don’t make sense.  You probably have noticed that we seem to be in the middle of some kind of financial crisis.  Inflation is inflating…can someone say ouch? And then there is this whole gas thing.  As I write this gas is over three dollars a gallon and just for fun there is talk of raising the gas tax–already the second highest in the nation. Can someone say double ouch? It is hard to believe that just a few years ago when we were doing the pandemic thing gas was about $1.52 and we said we just couldn’t believe it.  Well, go figure.  And the amazing part is that we are all driving as much as we did when it was cheaper.  Those guys with the big pickup trucks with big engines are still putting the pedal all the way down. It’s like gas is free.  What?

And then of course there is the shortage thing.  They are saying it has to do with supply and demand.  Well, if that is true somebody needs to start demanding more supplies.  Things, like eggs, require a loan to get a dozen.  In a time of precedented happenings, life just seeming to be going on like before.  The restaurants are full, the some store shelves are empty, and no one seems to be in a panic.  In fact, in at least one instance they seem to be celebrating. Yup…it’s true.

I’ve just about given up watching the news, but when I do they will sometimes show this scene from Wall Street.  It occurs at the end of the day, and it shows about fifteen or so people on this platform and it is their job to ring the bell calling for an end of the trading day.  So, the other day, when the stock market had fallen nearly 1,000 points there were people there and as they rang the bell, they were cheering like madmen (or women).  They were yipping and yelling like they had just won the lottery.   Big smiles and grins filled their faces.  It’s like they didn’t even know what had just happened.

Well, it turns out no matter what happens on any given day, these folks, and it is always different folks, get up there and do this madman (or woman) celebration.  I’ve concluded it has nothing to do with the market…they are just glad to ring the bell.  Maybe it is because the day and damage is done or maybe it is because they made a ton of money.  All I know is it sure is confusing.  It sends this crazy mixed-up message and I’m left scratching my head. Good or bad? Happy or sad? Who’s knows?

So what do you do in a world that often doesn’t make a lot of sense? That’s a fair question. To be honest, there are times these days when I don’t know exactly what to do or say.  I want to complain but that isn’t going to help.  I want to whine but that doesn’t change anything.  I want to get mad sometimes but, well, what good does that do?  I think the right thing is stay the course and to believe and trust…in God.  I mean even if you aren’t a God person maybe today would be a good day to give it a try!  Everything around us is shifting and sinking—maybe we should try something different.

I’ve been on my personal Jesus journey for more than a few decades.  I’ve seen the mountain tops and I’ve trudged through my share of valleys and the one constant has been God.  I don’t always understand but I have found that even when I don’t…He is faithful. The Bible, the oldest and most reliable of sacred writings, tells us that God is not a man, that He might lie, 

or a son of man, that He might change His mind. I know that might seem a bit extreme if you are not a believer and I get that.  But don’t these extreme times call for something extreme…like faith?

I’m not sure what the price of gas will be in a week. I’m not even sure there will be eggs in the cooler but I am sure that no matter what my Dearest Daddy in heaven will be the same…good, faithful and trustworthy.  I’m sure that no matter what, He will be there, the Whisperer whispering, “Don’t worry son, I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, gratitude, life, priorities, Scripture, travel, USA

Enjoy the Journey

 “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” Philippians 4:4

It just depends.  Several years back, my wife Judy and I returned from a trip out west.  It was a trip that would involve flying and driving.  It was also a trip with one purpose…to get away, to relax, and to enjoy.  It is not uncommon for us to take a trip and encounter some less than perfect weather.  We have learned to say, “Oh well, at least we’re away.” Away…that’s a good thing.  You see, the purpose of a journey can often determine the success of the journey.  Set your sights too high and too narrow and you will often find frustration and stress.

Let me explain.  The first leg of our journey was simple…get to Colorado as quickly as possible.  Because that was the goal…we flew.  Also, because that was the goal every delay caused me to have a stressful moment.  Long check-in, stress.  Long security, frustration.  Flight delay, double both.  You see, the point was to get there…not to enjoy the journey.  When I was much younger, just the thought of getting to fly was exciting.  I would always ask for the window seat so I could watch the world go by.  The joy was the journey, but now, alas, it is just a means to get somewhere, and the wonder and joy have slipped away.

Leg two of the journey was different.  It was a hybrid of experiences. Renting a new and different car to drive, driving in a new part of the world, and going at a pace that better enabled us to enjoy it. Usually. But honestly, there was still a battle to be fought…an alligator to be wrestled to the earth.  I had to determine if the destination was the goal…or was it the journey?  I mean I know that there is always a destination but if that becomes obsessive, the joy quickly slips away.  It was my call—enjoy the journey or race to the destination.

You see, if I am racing to the destination, then put me on an interstate highway where the roads are wide, and the speed limit is high.  Out in Wyoming, the speed limit on the interstate was 80 mph…Katie bar the door.  Oh, and those long, straight two-lane roads—yup, 75 mph.  That fit my destination minded mindset just fine, thank you.  But then there were the times that we were in the Rocky Mountains on a curvy, mountain road just driving.  There really wasn’t a place we had to be—we were just driving and that changed everything.  If there was a slower driver in front…that was fine. We would just sit back and enjoy the scenery as it slid by the windows.  The journey was the destination and joy was the result.

But here is what I discovered.  As soon as there was a “gotta be there” destination and mindset then that same road and that same slow driver became a stress point.  The only thing that changed was the pressure to get there.  That same scenery was an ignored blur as the only thing that mattered was looking for a passing zone so I could get there—wherever there happened to be.  The end of the day often told the story—tired and stressed or refreshed and blessed—the way I traveled seemed to make all the difference.

There will always be a destination to get to and there will always be slower drivers and unexpected obstacles to keep us from getting there, but joy in the journey changes everything.  Jesus knew that His destination was a Roman cross, but He never let that stop Him from enjoying the day and loving those around Him.  He loved the joy of the journey.  I can just imagine Him smiling as He changed the life of a leper or blessed a small child…all joy in the journey.  Paul, one of the guys who wrote a large part of the New Testament, said, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!”  In other words, have joy in the journey…no matter what that journey looks like.  He did that really well.

So, when you find yourself on a winding, two-lane road, enjoy the journey.  Take a moment to watch the beauty around you slide by the windows.  See what God has allowed to come into your world that day and the destination will come soon enough.  And when you find yourself backed into a rushed corner, there’s a couple of things you can do.  First, plan a little better when you can and then use that extra time to talk to the Father about that day or maybe relax in Him because, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, life, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, travel

Daytona 500

 “Let’s go across to the outpost of those pagans,” Jonathan said to his armor bearer.” 1 Samuel 14:6

My eyes were opened.  Now that I think about it, for a country boy on a limited budget I got to do some pretty cool things.  We got to visit my brother in New Jersey…hey, don’t laugh…at least it was away.  Then another brother lived in the Smoky Mountains and while his then wife wasn’t too fond of our family, it was still away.  And yet another brother lived out in Texas and that was always an adventure.  But the best of all was my oldest sister.  You see, she and her husband J.W. lived in Daytona Beach and best of all…they were pretty cool.  It was because they lived in Daytona Beach that I had my eyes opened one day…or night rather.

As I said I was a country boy even though I lived on the outskirts of a large city, Jacksonville, Florida.  My world had limited exposure, and given this was the sixties, that probably wasn’t a bad thing.  The most exciting thing going on in my world was my neighbor Dick Snyder who smoked cigars and drank beer…a lot.  Other than that, it seemed our world was pretty tame.  And then it happened.  Somehow or another, my brother-in-law arranged for me and my Daddy to go to the Daytona 500.  In case you don’t know this was and is a really big deal.  This race kicks off the NASCAR season and it was Katie-Bar-The-Door excitement.  And…there was a lot of sin going on.

You see, to save money, I think, we only had tickets to park in the infield.  That is the area inside the track.  I can’t remember exactly why, but we decided to go the night before and spend the night…camping if you will.  The only thing was the fact that we didn’t have a camper…all we had was our car.  So, we loaded up the trunk and drove down to the track and before you could say, “checkered flag,” we were parked right smack dab in the middle of sin city.

Now most people know that NASCAR is a family sport and I love the fact that it is a sport that loves America.  But I’m pretty sure that family description doesn’t include spending the night in the infield the night before the Daytona 500. As it got dark, all those thousands of people started milling around and as they milled, they drank a lot of beer.  In fact, it seemed that a whole lot of them reminded me of my neighbor Dick. And it also seemed that a lot of the “ladies” there were dressed for the sixties.  Now I only say that because I remember my Daddy saying something like, “Don’t look there” or “You stay right here.”

Well, sometime later, Daddy told me it was time to go to sleep so I crawled into the backseat, covered up and soon was fast asleep.  When I woke up the next morning, it was like a different world.  Besides a crop of beer cans, you would have never known that a big party had taken place there the night before.  We hung around a while and the race started and every once in a while we could see the cars going round and round the track. I believe we even climbed on top of the car…something Daddy probably wouldn’t allow back home.

Well, soon it was all over, and we spent the next couple of hours fighting the traffic getting back to my brother-in-law and sister’s house.  Soon, we were back on the road again heading back to Jacksonville.  Well, honestly, sin and all, my night in the infield at the Daytona 500 is one of my favorite memories.  Not because of the sin (Daddy did a good job of protecting me from that part) but because of the time with my Daddy and his willingness to share a great adventure with me. Even now it makes me smile.

Life is and can be full of great adventures.  Whether it is a trip to New Jersey, the Smoky Mountains, or the forever plains of Texas, we need to be sure and take the time and make the time to have adventures with those we love. One time in the Old Testament, a guy named Jonathan decided to risk a great adventure.  He said, “Let’s go across to the outpost of those pagans,” Jonathan said to his armor bearer.” Now that’s an adventure.

My trip to the infield didn’t involve the most expensive ticket, and even now I’m not sure I would recommend it as a place to take the kids, but the excitement of sharing that race with my Daddy was incredible. So, as Stephen Curtis Chapman sings, “Go ahead and saddle up your horses….this is the great adventure.”  Oh, before you go, remember to ask the Dearest Daddy for a little advice. In fact, why not ask Him along.  You know, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne