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Perservance

 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek His will in all you do, and He will show you which path to take.” Proverbs 3:5-6

Perseverance…don’t quit.  In my inventory of weaknesses is something that I wish wasn’t.  I would like to tell you that I have the perseverance of a thoroughbred race horse bolting from the gate with only one goal—to finish and to finish first.  And while I am not a quitter, I do sometimes, “peter out.”  Merriam Webster defines that as “to gradually become smaller, weaker, or less before stopping or ending”.

During my journey there were too many times when I just wasn’t sure I was going to finish well—or finish at all.  But that wasn’t always a bad thing because it caused me to look inwardly and upward—to my Dearest Daddy.

During those times when I wasn’t sure of much of anything, it was then that I found myself turning to the One who was sure.  When my steps were unsure, I found myself tracking with the One whose steps were rock solid and sure.  The last several years have taught me something of hanging in there—to persevere—to keep going.  While I was out west a while back I saw it over and over again.  First, it was a wild flower blooming in what can only be called dust.  The roots had somehow dug deep and found the water of life.  I saw it in a small tree as it grew from a crevice in a large rock.  It made no sense but somehow that tree decided there was a way to grow in an impossible place.

I saw it too from another small tree growing from a large rock in the middle of a lake.  There was no soil to be found and yet it grew…it persevered.  It decided that it would survive, it would thrive, even though the odds were totally against success.  You see, the Bible is filled with stories of men and women who trusted God against all odds.  A shepherd boy becomes a king, another “has-been” shepherd leads a million or so people to a new land—the promised land.  A band of eleven men from various walks of life chose to follow a young rabbi (who happened to be the Son of God) and the message they shared changed the world.

All of these folks failed at one time or another, but they didn’t quit.  They chose to persevere.  If you wonder how America has lasted for these 250 years, there are two reasons.  The hand of God and the perseverance of ordinary men and women who gave what they had for a cause they believed in. A.Cause.They.Believed.In.

We have survived many challenges over the years—the pandemic of 2020 is just one on the list. However, I am sure the greater enemy wasn’t the pandemic, but rather the division that swept our land like a wildfire. Someone wiser than you or me once said that a house divided against itself cannot stand—Jesus said that before Lincoln did.

William Carey, a great missionary, once said, “The future is as bright as the promises of God” and I believe that is true today.  But we need to learn from the founding fathers, from the men who stormed Normandy or trudged through the jungles of Vietnam or froze on the hills of Korea.  We have to learn again to trust the hand of God.  The Bible says that we should trust God with everything we have and turn away from the tendency to trust ourselves.  If we do that…He will guide us…He will direct us.  We also need to learn the lesson of that small tree growing from that giant rock.  We will not quit, we will persevere—we will find life in the most unlikely of places.  Trust God and don’t quit.  That sounds like a plan.

With the pandemic in the rearview mirror, it seems to some degree we have been given a second chance.  I hope we will take advantage of this gift God has given us.  I hope we will learn the power of perseverance and the power of four simple words, “Love God…Love People.”  I may not know what tomorrow holds but I do know the One who holds tomorrow and that is good enough for me.  I am certain no matter what, that as always, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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Hope

 “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace. Your suffering is over.” Mark 5:34

She knew the pain of isolation. For her rejection was a way of life. For twelve years she was alone. For twelve years she felt the pain of rejection. For twelve years she knew nothing but unworthiness. We don’t know her real name. Her condition named her–defined her. She was known as the “woman with an issue of blood.”


That name made her unacceptable in most circles. Church? “So sorry, unworthy.” Her neighborhood? “So sorry, unclean.” Her family? Well, there really wasn’t one that would claim her. Like I said she was an expert at social distancing. No one wanted her. And it hurt. A lot.


It wasn’t that she didn’t try to make things right. Her story is found in Mark 5 and in verse 26 we read, “She had suffered a great deal from many doctors, and over the years she had spent everything she had to pay them, but she had gotten no better. In fact, she had gotten worse.” She so craved an end to this nightmare of loneliness and illness. Her body was worn down by the blood loss and her spirit was worn down by the rejection. She had seen every physician, but the only result was a depleted bank account and a worsening condition. She was at the end. And that is where she found Jesus.


We are not told how she came to know of Jesus, but it was probably word of mouth. Someone said and someone repeated, “Jesus heals people. Jesus touches people…even unworthy people. Jesus accepts people…even people that no one else wants.” She heard a crowd. She saw a crowd and at the middle of this crowd was her only hope.

She weaved her way to the center trying to conceal her face because if they knew who she was, she would quickly be pushed aside. She believed that if she could just touch His robe, she could–she would be healed. Finally, she saw His back and stumbling she touched His robe. Immediately she knew it. Immediately she felt it–it was done. It was over. She was healed.


Jesus knew it too. He felt power leave His body and He asked the crowd, “Who touched me?” The disciples, perhaps with a smile, said, “Lord, you see the crowd. What do you mean who touched you?” But Jesus knew what they didn’t. Someone’s life was changed, and it was her. She, so used to rebuke and rejection, came trembling and confessed, “It was me.” Before she could apologize or explain, He said it.

In verse 34, Jesus says, “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace. Your suffering is over.” What did He say? Daughter? She had been called unworthy, unclean, unwanted, but “Daughter?” That was a name she had never heard. And He declared an end to her war with suffering. She was made whole. She was accepted. She was clean. Amazing.


It all happened because of a five-letter word. Faith. She believed. Let’s be careful here. She didn’t just believe, she believed in Jesus. It wasn’t just faith, it was faith in Him. You see when we believe there can be hope. But when we choose to believe in Jesus there is healing, there is life, there is rescue.

They parted ways then. There was a twelve-year-old girl who needed to be raised from the dead. She needed her own miracle. But for this woman, life was never the same. Maybe she went home. Maybe she went to the market. Maybe she went to the temple. It doesn’t matter where she went, the stigma was gone. She was no longer called unclean, no longer called unworthy, no longer called unwanted. She had a new name. It was “daughter.”


So how about you? Does this story resonate within you? Are her names… your names? Is her pain …your pain? Why not fight the crowd, break your spiritual social distancing, your isolation, and come to Jesus? And, like her, why not believe? Have the courage to believe that you will find healing and rest in Him. After all, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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Intentional Kindness

 “The Lord is righteous in everything He does; He is filled with kindness.” Psalm 145:17

I almost missed it.  A long time ago and in a galaxy far, far away I wrote a Grits story about my ongoing “concern” with sticking a contact in my eye.  If you remember, and I realize you probably don’t, I only wear one contact and it makes it possible for me to read without having to wear readers. It’s quite amazing how the brain somehow makes it work.  Anyway, the only problem is that I just don’t do very well sticking my finger in or close to my eye. It took me just about a year to figure out how to do it and I still have some anxiety each time I do it.  I’ve gotten better…but.

Well, one morning was one of those “buts.” I have a ritual that I go through each and every morning to prepare for sticking this thing in my eye.  I put on my readers and get the juice that I use to wet the contact and my fingers. The contacts come in a stick of five and I always, and I mean always, break a contact off the left side.  Don’t ask me why. On that morning, I got the juice, glasses and contact all set up for the big event. I opened the contact, wet my fingers, put the contact on my finger and prepared to stick it in. It went south.

As I put it in I could tell something was wrong and the something was wherever the contact was, it wasn’t where it should have been. That could only mean it was lost somewhere—either in my eye or on the sink. Well, it wasn’t on the sink which meant—I was in deep weeds.  So, I got angry.  I’m not proud of it but I did. I was running late and didn’t have time to worry about this catastrophe. My eye doctor had retired so she couldn’t rescue me and as hard as Judy and I had tried in times past…our success rate was pretty low. So I just told God, out loud, that I didn’t have time for this. I threw the contact holder thing in the trash and got in the shower…still mad.

Well, I have this test I do to see if my contact is in or out. When I tried to see at the sink, it obviously was not in the right place in my eye.  So, I tried again in the shower and…I could see. I looked again and again, very obviously the contact had found its way home to the center of my eye.  Now it wasn’t totally happy, but it was where it belonged. After my shower, I went ahead and got the contact out, yay and put in a fresh one that went in perfectly. I was amazed and very grateful. There is no doubt that my Dearest Daddy had once again acted on my behalf.

I guess, in the loosest of terms you could say that my cry of anger and anguish was a prayer, “God, I don’t need this right now.” And in His grace, He agreed. There might be a time when it would have stayed lost but today, He acted on my behalf and took care of the problem.  You probably ought to know the kind of contact I wear is changed daily and it is very flimsy and when it gets lost—it stays lost. I cannot think of one time when it found its own way home…that is…except on that special day.

What He did was just so kind.  His Word says, “The Lord is righteous in everything He does; He is filled with kindness.”  All I can say is, “Amen.” As I was driving home for lunch, I decided that I hadn’t celebrated the faithfulness of my Dearest Daddy in a big enough way. This was a big deal. I needed to pause and thank Him again. It was the right thing to do.

I couldn’t think of a better way to say thank you then to write about it in Grits. As I stared at my computer screen, and it is crystal clear, I was reminded that I serve a God who can handle the big things and the not so big things. I was reminded that I serve a God that hears even a prayer sputtered and uttered in frustration and, yes, anger.  I serve a God who cares enough to whisper a sweet, short answer to those prayers,  “Don’t worry son, I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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Stupid Rock

 “The Lord God is my strength, and He has made my feet like hinds’ feet, and makes me walk on my high places.” Habakkuk 3:19

Ok…it just hurt. I grew up down South and there and especially then things were just a bit different.  Back in those days before Nintendo and Game Boys, we played…I mean we just played.  Even though we had television, and yes, it was black and white,  it was rarely on…especially during the day.  When school was over for the day, we would go outside and run the neighborhood and…the woods.

We lived in a small country neighborhood that was surrounded by woods.  We played army, built forts, and played every game you could imagine.  We had a large Chinaberry tree in our backyard, and we would load our pockets with the small berries and then chase one another trying our best to “ping” someone with the berries. As you can imagine we ran…a lot. And the best running shoes then were no shoes at all.  We ran and played barefoot most of the time.  There were times of regret, like when we would stub our toe on a big old pine root, but most of the time we did just fine.  Of course, all that “barefoot-ness” toughened our feet up till the soles were leather tough.

Well, things change, and we all grew up and started wearing shoes.  With the shoes, we lost our toughness but not our love to occasionally go barefoot.  There’s still just something about the feel of grass and soft sand on the bottom of your foot.  Yup…what good memories…that is until I stepped on a stupid rock. It all started when I went outside early in the morning, as in the sun was still yawning, to have a cup of coffee with Judy.  Of course, I wasn’t wearing shoes.  We have a paved driveway and patio so no deal…right? Not so fast.

I walked out to the patio, visited awhile, and then decided it was time to head back into the house to get ready for the day.  Our patio is a foot or so higher than our driveway and we have a small step there to make things easier.  So, I stepped down onto the step and then on down to the driveway.  Not thinking, nor thinking to look, right where I stepped was a nice, small rock.  Now this wasn’t the smooth stone kind of rock but the kind that you find in an unpaved alley.  Anyway, I stepped, and stepped hard and landed right on that stinking rock.  Ouch.

As things would happen, it was in the middle of my heel, and it just hurt.  I muttered something about stupid rocks, picked the rock up and chucked it back in the alley where it belonged.  It really was a “no harm, no foul” deal.  I mean, it wasn’t like it hurt all day and it wasn’t like I had to go to the doctor, but for those few moments…it just hurt and for those few moments…I was mad at the rock. Mad.At.The.Rock.

Wait…later I decided there was something wrong with that.  I am sure that rock didn’t wake up that morning (do rocks wakeup?) and decide to be in the exact wrong spot.  In fact, I am sure the rock had nothing to do with it at all. I am sure that I am the one who chose not to wear shoes that morning, who didn’t look to see if there was a rock in the way, and who wasted my emotional energy by getting mad at a rock.  It sounds like this one is on me.

The bottom line is when you do life, you will occasionally step on a rock and it may cause some pain.  But like the Disney song says, maybe we should just, “let it go.” The Bible gives us some even greater counsel.  It says that we are to remember that God is our strength, and we should ask Him to guide our feet as sure as a mountain deer.  In other words…to help us watch where we step…whether it is off our patio or into a questionable decision. 

Well, I know, and you know it wasn’t the rock’s fault that day and really, in the scope of things, it wasn’t mine either. It was just one of those things.  Oh, and this morning, I went out barefoot again but before I stepped off the patio, I looked and that means, I may have learned and that is always valuable.  So be sure and look before you step and remember, even if things don’t go exactly like you plan today…He’s still got this. Bro. Dewayne

Oh wait…I thought that was the end of the story but it wasn’t.  So, the same day I wrote this, at lunch I went home to eat and kicked my shoes off.  As I was walking across the kitchen floor I stepped on a…get ready…rock.  Yup, right there in the kitchen.  I guess you just never know.

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Memorial and More

“Once you were alienated and hostile in your minds expressed in your evil actions. But now He has reconciled you by His physical body through His death, to present you holy, faultless, and blameless before Him.” (Colossians 1:21-22)

It was a moment I will probably never forget.  My wife and I love adventures.  We look for ways to do things on a limited budget and we’ve actually gotten pretty good at it.  A few years back we discovered we could take a train from Carbondale to Chicago, stay downtown at a nice hotel for a couple of nights and enjoy whatever was happening around us…all on a shoestring budget. We would usually go around Memorial Day or the Fourth of July.  It was pretty awesome.

Several years ago we went the week of the 4th.  We grabbed a very nice hotel room and managed to snag a room that literally faced the fireworks display.  It was awesome.  At Millennium Park they have these incredible free outdoor concerts.  Thousands of people from all walks of life gather on the large lawn to listen.  Because it is the 4th, they share a lot of patriotic music. They usually have a section where they honor the veterans by asking them to stand when the theme for their branch of the service is played.

I am a veteran.  I served in the United States Air Force for 12 years and it was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. And that’s the problem.  You see, because it was so rewarding, I always felt awkward standing to be honored because I felt like I received so much more than I gave.  So that night, I knew that part of the concert was coming, and I was dreading it.  I knew that Judy would urge me to stand, I would say no, and she would give me the look.  Again.  But that night, for some reason, something changed.

It was time.  The stirring songs from each branch of the service began playing.  Soon, the Air Force theme was playing.  I looked at Judy and said, “I’m going to stand just for you.”  As I stood something happened.  First, I saw others standing that had served in the Air Force and I felt community…I stopped feeling apart and instead felt a part—a part of the family.  But what happened next was amazing.

There was a mother with a couple of young boys sitting about eight or ten feet from me.  The younger of her sons, probably seven or eight, looked at me and said this, “Mom, is he a hero?”  And I watched and listened as she said, “Yes.  He served our country so that we can be free.”  Then she turned to me and mouthed the words, “Thank you for serving.” Well, that was the highlight of the trip for me, and it was the day an unexplainable wall fell.

I am certain that I do not deserve the title hero.  The men and women with crosses over their graves in all the national cemeteries deserve that.  The warriors who came back from the various wars and conflicts bearing the physical and emotional scars of war deserve that.  But the one thing that I realized that night was that we should be thankful for our freedom.  We can and should honor each person who served for their willingness and sacrifice.

I’m still shy about standing at Veteran’s Day events.  I still feel awkward at concerts when veterans are asked to stand.  But it’s not because I’m ashamed to say I served. No, it is because I received more than I could ever give back.  I was privileged to wear the uniform of my country.  And that is pretty awesome.  But wait. There’s more.

As I write this story another one is stirring in my heart.  It flashed in my mind that this isn’t the only time, the only circumstance, that makes me feel this way.  It is also my faith in God.  That day when I followed Christ, I also received more than I could ever give back. That day I was welcomed into the family of a God who loved me enough to give His Son to a Roman cross.  Paul in the Bible tells us that we went from being alienated and hostile toward God to being able to call Him Father. Jesus caused my billion failures to disappear so He could present me faultless and blameless to His Father.

We all need heroes.  This Memorial Day would you take the time to remember those who bled and died that we could be free?  Would you take your kids to the cemetery for your community’s Memorial Day service?  I hope that you will.  But I also hope you will pause and thank the Hero of Heaven for sacrificing His life so that people like you and me can be truly free.  And finally, next time you have the opportunity to stand not as a hero but because of the One, stand proudly and thank Him.  Thank Him that you can rest in Him.  Thank Him because He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, Scripture, thankful, travel

Timeless

 “But, beloved, do not forget this one thing, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.” 2 Peter 3:8

The captain of the Majestic Princess carefully guided the massive ship into a slip at the port that served Dublin, Ireland. On that day we had signed up to take a bus tour that would take us through Dublin and the surrounding countryside. My wife Judy and I both agreed that Ireland was everything we were expecting and then some more. The green beauty and the history of the place reminded us of the majestic majesty of our great God.

We went to one of the oldest shops in Ireland where they weaved wool into beautiful garments. They used the same machines that had been used for decades and centuries. It was amazing to watch as the individual strands of wool were woven into beautiful garments with beautiful colors. As I watched and as I touched and felt the finished products I was reminded how God can weave the fabrics of our lives and make a beautiful mosaic of textures and colors. Individually the threads were not that impressive but when woven together they became a work of art.

A little further down the road we stopped at a cemetery that held the ruins of an ancient monastery. The buildings there date back to AD 600. It was amazing to think that these stones and these ruins stood just six centuries after the life and death of Jesus. Here in America if something is a hundred years old, we call it old. In the land where we were walking they would say it was just getting started.

In the cemetery the people had built a small chapel also built in AD 600. Amazingly the building still stood. Yes, Amazing. Near the entrance of the cemetery was a stone leaning against the stone wall. It was large and it was old. It was part of the ancient monastery and it was called the sanctuary stone. They said that if you touched the stone it would make you happy. Well, since I didn’t take the opportunity to go and kiss the Blarney Stone, I decided to take this opportunity to kiss the sanctuary stone. I figured if touching it would make me happy, kissing it should make me plum giddy. Well, as it turns out, kiss or not, I was happy but I did get a special memory of a special day.

One of my big take-aways from my day in the Irish countryside was a deep appreciation for time and Jesus who left heaven which exists outside of time and chose to become one of us. One of the beauties of God’s view of time is that He is not bound by it and when we go to live with Him…we won’t be either. One day, as His children, we will go home to a place where time is no more and we will have what touching or kissing a stone can’t give…true and eternal happiness. I am grateful for my Dearest Daddy who loves me enough to invite me to live with Him forever. I am so grateful to the One who, no matter what, can assuredly say, “I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Grace, heaven, New Year, Scripture

New Life…New Land

 “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.” 2 Corinthians 5:17

Her name was Annie Moore. Our next stop aboard the Majestic Princess fulfilled a “bucket list” dream for my wife Judy and I. We have long wanted to visit Ireland and that day…we did. The port and town of Cobh, Ireland (also know as Queenstown) was really quite simple but also quite amazing. It seemed to be everything we expected Ireland to be. What we didn’t expect was to be introduced to the story of a young lady and her two younger brothers. Their names were Annie, Anthony and Philip. And they were the very first immigrants to pass through Ellis Island.

As New York City welcomed the year 1892 with the ringing of church bells and the honking of horns, a 17-year-old Irish girl named Annie Moore found herself anchored off the southern tip of Manhattan. Alongside her two younger brothers, she had embarked on a journey from Queenstown, on December 20, 1891, aboard the steamship Nevada, seeking a new life in a new land. After a 12-day voyage, including Christmas, the girl from County Cork, Ireland, was finally just hours away from reuniting with her parents and two older siblings, after a four year separation.

The Nevada arrived too late on New Year’s Eve to be processed. However, at 10:30 a.m. on New Year’s Day, a flag on Ellis Island was lowered three times, signaling the transportation of the first boatload of immigrants. A symphony of foghorns, clanging bells, steam whistles, and cheers accompanied a barge adorned with red, white, and blue bunting as it ferried the Nevada’s steerage passengers to the dock at Ellis Island, standing tall in the shadow of the Statue of Liberty.

Among the passengers was the brown-haired Irish teenager, who eagerly bounded down the gangplank with her brothers. She entered the enormous double doors of the building and skipped two steps at a time up the main staircase. Turning to her left, she was guided into one of the 10 aisles and led to a tall lectern-like registry desk. “What is your name, my dear?” inquired the agent. “Annie Moore, sir,” she replied. With a pen poised over a fresh sheet of paper, the clerk meticulously inked Moore’s name and those of her brothers, Anthony and Philip, on the first page of the first registry book. Annie was then escorted into the next room and was soon embraced by her waiting parents. Over the course of the next 62 years, more than 12 million immigrants would follow in Annie Moore’s footsteps, passing through Ellis Island.

Her story is amazing–a new life in a new land–a reunion with her parents and older brothers after a four year separation. She was home but to a home she had never been to before. And in a very real way, Annie’s story is the story of every person who puts their faith and trust in Jesus Christ. By faith we trust Jesus and begin a new life in a new land. Paul, the guy who wrote a chunk of the New Testament, says in 2 Corinthians 5:17, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.” Then Jesus promises in John 14:2 “In My Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.”

Just like Annie, we too can leave the past behind and step into a new life in a new place. How about you? Are you willing to believe and trust? That’s all you have to do…believe in Him and trust Him and leave the rest is in His hands.  Like always, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in food, Grace, Scripture, travel

Sticks and Scones

 “Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.” Ephesians 3:20-21

The title of today’s story makes no sense…but it is cute. So after leaving Southhampton, England we hit the road again…metaphorically speaking. Our next port was Falmouth but it is more commonly known as Cornwall. Cornwall is a county on England’s rugged southwestern tip and it forms a peninsula encompassing wild moorland and hundreds of sandy beaches and is home of Land’s End…the furtherest Western point in England. Step into the water there and the next stop is the New World. I have to admit I am partial to the name Falmouth since my favorite memory of this port involves food.

So we took a tour of this part of Southern England and heard that one of the things it is famous for are scones and clotted cream. Now in case you are wondering a scone is kinda like a biscuit that has been left on the kitchen counter for just a little too long. Well, that is the way this American would describe it. But it goes further. It is a big deal, especially in this part of England, to have scones and hot tea. Oh, and if you are wondering about hot tea it is like a weak cup of coffee with a twist. So part of our tour included a stop at a hotel for a afternoon break of scones and tea.

The way the tour guide described this British delicacy caused me to look forward to it with great anticipation. It is described like this. The scone is, well, a scone. Like I said earlier it is kinda like a day old biscuit. However, what comes next is somewhat redemptive. First, you have clotted cream. According to Google, clotted cream is a thick, rich, yellowish cream from the Cornwall region, made by heating full-fat cow’s milk and allowing the cream to rise and “clot” on top. It’s a staple for cream tea, served on scones with jam (Devon style: cream first, Cornwall style: jam first). It has a nutty, slightly sweet flavor and a dense, velvety texture, and can also be used on desserts, with fruit, or in recipes for fudge and ice cream. 

Sounds great doesn’t it? Well, here’s the bottom line. To me it was a whole lot like a cheap brand of margarine. It sure didn’t match the description in the previous paragraph. I’m not being critical but the truth is the truth. Now I will have to say the strawberry jam was quite tasty. And I also have to admit that when you put it all together is was, well, ok. I’ll still take one of Momma’s biscuits with butter and cane syrup.  Anyway, we paid for it so we ate it. But I learned, or relearned, a valuable lesson.

Sometimes the grass is not greener on the other side of the fence. Sometimes it is just grass. And regardless of what the British say, a scone with jam and clotted cream is a far cry from Mamma’s biscuits. It may have been fun to try something new but my big takeaway was the fact that there’s no place like home…again metaphorically speaking anyway. Remember, before you leave where you are make sure where you’re going is better. It’s true with scones and biscuits and it is really true with our Dearest Daddy. Satan will try and convince you that what he has is better. Bluntly…it ain’t. Ask the devil is he can handle something and he will look at you like a “calf at a new gate.” Ask God that same question and He will just smile and say, “You know I’ve got this.” And He does.  Bro. Dewayne

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Sticker Shock

 “For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 6:23

I was shocked. Most of us are familiar with the term “sticker shock.” That normally applies to cars. You know when we finally decide it is time to shop around for a new vehicle. The air is filled with excitement at the prospect of something new sitting in our driveway. We can feel the neighbor’s admiring smile as they drive by our driveway and admire our new wheels. We can’t wait until we can go to the dealer. There is the car of our dreams. We stop, get out and look and then we see the sticker price and then quickly our dream becomes a nightmare. We quickly get back into our car before we can be accosted by the salesman. We know he is bent on convincing us we can afford the car which is worth just about half the value of our house. Sigh and then sigh some more.

Sticker shock chapter two.  Sometimes it doesn’t take a visit to the auto dealer to experience sticker shock. Sometimes it can be right there in our email inbox.  Just last week I was going through my emails to sort out things I need and things I don’t. I like a nice and neat inbox.  So, I receive several “good deal” emails and occasionally I find some very good deals. Today was not one of those days—but something did catch my eye.

The top of the email advertised a bunch of deals from Amazon—up to 85% off. Well, I learned a long time ago that “up to” doesn’t mean a thing in advertising but still it was intriguing.  I took a look, and something caught my eye—not because it was such a good deal, but because it was a sticker shocker. Amazon was proud to announce that you could buy six regular size Hershey bars for…get ready…hang one…recharge your pacemaker…$5.38.  The regular price was $7.10. I was shocked.

My problem was twofold. First, I guess I don’t buy many candy bars, so I was unaware that candy bars and gold were on the same level these days! Someone reading this will probably think, “Where has this guy been?” Well, apparently on another planet…and that leads to problem two. You see, when I was growing up, and I acknowledge that was a few years ago, I can remember going to the store with my Daddy.  On special occasions he would splurge and buy a six pack of Snicker bars. I suppose it was always Snickers because that was his favorite.  The price was a whopping 49 cents…not for one but for six.

No, I am not stuck in the sixties but the last time I checked candy prices I thought it was like 69 cents…and for the record I thought that was too high.  As you can imagine I had candy bar sticker shock on steroids. The bottom line is everything is going up and everything costs more than it used to so I guess we might as well get used to it.

Of course, there is one thing that is immune from inflation and that is God’s gift of eternal life. Over the centuries it has never gone up…and it never will. You see, when God sent His Son to earth and when His Son willingly died on that Roman cross the price was paid in full. Anyone willing to ask can have the gift free of charge. Imagine all your sins forgiven and wiped away and a forever home in heaven. Oh and did I mention a new Best Friend who will never leave you or forsake you?

I may be shocked about this extravagant gift but not because of sticker shock…but because of love shock. How could the God who made it all pay it all for a world of people who are all unworthy.  And that is the amazing thing.  Because He is God. So, no matter how long your sin list, I hope you will trust and believe and take God up on His amazing offer.  Trust me…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in communication, food, friends, gratitude, priorities, Scripture, travel

When the New Becomes Old

 “Then Hannah prayed and said, “My heart exults in the Lord; My horn is exalted in the Lord, My mouth speaks boldly against my enemies, Because I rejoice in Your salvation. 1 Samual 2:1

When the Majestic Princess set sail from Fort Lauderdale that Friday morning in April, it was quite the party. Her 3,600 passengers and even most of her 1,300 crew were excited about the transatlantic voyage that would relocate the ship to Europe for the summer sailing season. Everyone, or mostly everyone, was excited about exploring the ship, trying the food in the Marketplace buffet and listening to the music that seemed to be pouring from every corner of the ship. 

And, so we sailed, and sailed and sailed. Amazingly it never got boring but it did become somewhat routine. I guess you could call it a new normal. After a week of sailing we bumped in the Azores and a couple of days later we bumped into the European continent. Then we sailed on for a couple of more days and landed in France and the next day we reached, for the first time, our final destination–Southhampton. Now, even though we booked our journey as one continuous 25 day cruise, in reality the cruise line counted as two. The first part ended at Southhampton and the second part also started there. 

At Southhampton we lost 2,600 passengers and boarded 1,400 newbies. So, to the do the math for you, we had about a 1,000 of us who started the journey in Fort Lauderdale and stayed aboard and we gained about 1,400 that started there at Southhampton.  And let me tell you–those two groups were way different in their reactions to the trip. Those of us who had already been on the ship for about 14 days just sorta yawned at all the chaos while the newbie were as exited as we had been back in Fort Lauderdale. For all of them, it was like Christmas morning. It was almost humorous to watch them run from place to place, dance like no one was watching and load their plates to the edges at the newly discovered buffet. Yup, they were genuinely excited.

Now it wasn’t that we oldies weren’t excited, its just that all of the routines were, well, routine. The new had become old and  the uncommon common–mostly we had lost the expectation and excitement of the newness of the journey. It wasn’t good or bad it was just the way it was. Now I suppose that is ok for a 25 day cruise but there are times when it isn’t. Like in your marriage–like in your relationship with Jesus. Write this one down–you don’t ever want the freshnesses, the excitement to leave your two most important relationships–the one with your spouse and the one with your Savior. Do whatever you need to do to keep the air in the balloon and the aroma in this bouquet called life.

While there is no magic formula for this I know it includes words and actions. Tell your spouse often and sincerely how much you love them. Try and serve up a regular serving of acts of kindness every day. And for Jesus–well, its not much different. Tell Him everyday how much you love Him and are grateful for Him. And then serve Him faithfully everyday too. Be sure He knows and others know just how much you care. If you ever since the excitement fading, be sure and do something–quickly. After all, marriages and Jesus both thrive in the arena of love. Depend on them and depend on Him. Let them know that you are leaning on them…because in their own way…they’ve got it.  Bro. Dewayne