Month: July 2026

 “God saw all that He had made, and it was very good indeed. Evening came and then morning: the sixth day.” Genesis 1:31 

It was a profound statement.  It was 1967, and I was in junior high.  In Jacksonville that meant grades 7-9 and it meant a whole different world from elementary school.  For the first time we went to separate classes and got to choose some of our food for lunch in the cafeteria. I remember, for a dime, you could buy a bowl of French fries. While they weren’t anything like McDonald’s, I do believe they were potatoes, and they were long and skinny.

It may have been the sixties, but there were rules. For the girls skirts and dresses had to be a certain length. For the guys your hair could only be so long and then there were the big three: shirt tucked in, wear a belt, and socks.  Break those and you and the principal had a date.  By the time I was in the ninth grade, things were relaxing some and that included the big three.  On Fridays, boys were allowed to untuck their shirts, not wear a belt, and not wear socks. Holy moly, what was the world coming to?  Looking back, the cool thing was to take the socks that you weren’t wearing and put them hanging out of your rear pants pocket.  Every Friday, my shirt was out, my belt stayed home, and my socks were flapping in the breeze.  Do you know why?  It was cool…and I wanted to be cool. I wanted to be in. I wanted to be accepted.

As you know, over the years the trends have changed, styles have come and gone, and so have the labels.  In high school Gold Toe socks were coveted and so were Gant shirts. We couldn’t afford either but when I joined the Air Force and could shop at the Base Exchange, they carried both and both became part of my world.  I was cool. I was in. I was accepted. Some things never change, and this is one of those.  There was always something that someone was wearing that if you had it, you just knew you would feel cool…accepted…part of the “in” crowd.  When I came to my last church, it was shirts with ponies and shoes named “Crocs.” Whatever the newest label, and there was always one, peer pressure and the desire to be cool, accepted, and in, pushed and pulled.  It seemed I always wanted to be what someone else was.

Thankfully, some of that has changed.  Ponies and crocs aren’t really that cool anymore, and I’m starting to realize that a label doesn’t define who I am.  I.Am.Me. In fact, my four favorite shirts are from Walmart and cost a grand total of $9.88 each. There’s nothing on the pocket—they are just plain shirts which is cool, because I define them…they don’t define me.

I read something one morning that was just profound.  Here it is. Are you ready?  “Each person was born an original; no one should die a copy.” Wow.  It goes like this.  Somewhere in heaven, God came up with a design plan for me.  He wrote the design and then declared it an original, and just right. In fact, in Genesis 1:31, the Bible says, “God saw all that He had made, and it was very good indeed.” And do you know what?  That includes me and that includes you. There is not another me or you, anywhere, and that was intentional. I don’t need to be you, and you don’t need to be me. We just need to be who God made us. Sure, fashion labels are fine, and I’m even sure there is a perfect weight and height, but those don’t dictate who we are…God does.

In the years that God gives me, I hope I will remember this.  When the clock stops ticking, the heart stops beating, and you are having a chicken dinner somewhere in my honor, I hope someone will be able to say, “That Dewayne, he was an original. God broke the mold when He made him.”  I don’t want to die a copy…I want to die an original.

Given my bent to be a people pleaser and desire to be cool, accepted and in, I’m sure that will be a challenge. Gratefully, my Dearest Daddy will be with me along the way to remind me that I am a custom-made job, and you are too.  And, if I am wise enough to ask and listen, He will help me be me.  Oh, and if I struggle, and I will, and you will too, just listen as He reassures us that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

 “I look for someone to come and help me, but no one gives me a passing thought! No one will help me; no one cares a bit what happens to me.” Psalm 142:4-5

There she stood…alone and frightened.  I guess you could say I am a detail person. I notice things most others don’t see. A while back my wife Judy and I had just returned from a short trip to Nashville for a few days of “let’s get away.” We were sitting on the back porch chatting and drinking coffee and I said to Judy, “Did you happen to notice that the house over there (over there being at least two blocks away) has three pairs of shutters—one pair open and the other two pairs closed?”  Well, she hadn’t noticed and that was when she stated the obvious, “You are such a detail person.” And she was right…I am.

My attention to detail is just as keen back home in Harrisburg.  In our town we have quite a few people who are homeless—some by choice, some with mental illness and some who are just struggling with life.  As I see them—and I do see them—I often think about what their life must be like. How do they do it? What is it like to not have a place to call home? What does it feel like to feel abandoned and unloved?  It saddens me when I realize that the life they have now is most likely the only life they will ever know. Most won’t ever know anything better. And then, I usually pray asking Him to care for those who wander through life as they wander the streets. And I know that it is only by the grace of God that I am where I am. Charles Stanley, the former pastor of First Baptist Church of Atlanta, once saw a homeless lady pushing a buggy and he said, “There, but by the grace of God, go I.”

Right after that trip to Nashville, I was helping with the Fun Food ministry at the local Methodist church.  We were serving the kids there for Vacation Bible School. We had some popcorn, snow cones, and cotton candy. While we were waiting for the kids, a homeless lady wandered up. She was tall and as thin as a rail and her eyes were filled—not with life but fear. We offered her some of what we had but it was as if she was afraid to take it. She stayed a safe distance and with difficulty asked if we had some water.  We did not. I believe she did finally take some popcorn and maybe some cotton candy and then—she wandered away. The last time I saw her, her hands were empty and so were her eyes. She kept glancing back as if to make sure we weren’t going to harm her.

Well, a couple of days later I was reading the Bible and remembered a verse that I had discovered in years past.  It is found in Psalms 142:4-5 and says, “I look for someone to come and help me, but no one gives me a passing thought! No one will help me; no one cares a bit what happens to me.” What I saw and experienced that day gave me pause and it still does.  Here’s the deal.  Sometimes we can help physically, and we should do so…carefully. But something that we can do every time is to assign the same value God does to every person—regardless. We must treat every person with the same dignity that God does. Believe me—He values a life regardless of what station or color they are—and we should do the same.

Someone said, “Don’t let the fact that you can’t help everyone keep you from helping someone.” And do you know what? Sometimes that help looks a whole lot like Jesus—loving them like He loves us. The one thing I could do that day for that lady was to show love and treat her like she mattered—because she did. I know this can be challenging and honestly loving usually is.  But remember this…the One who loves you most is waiting to help you do the hard stuff like loving.  After all, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

 “See how very much our Father loves us, for He calls us His children, and that is what we are!” 1 John 3:1

Some things were just better in the old days…like the weather report.  Back in the sixties, when the local weather was sponsored by one of the local oil brands and the weatherman wore a service station (that is a gas place where they pumped your gas, checked your oil and cleaned your windshield) uniform, things were so much simpler.  He would get his magic marker out and draw some symbols on his paper map and forecast the weather. It was easy.  If it was going to be hot…he would say it was going to be hot.  If it was going to be cold…he would say it was going to be cold.  If it was going to rain…he just laid it out in simple terms.  Yup…those were the days.

It kinda reminds me of my visit to a gift shop in the Smokey Mountains.  They had what they called a “Hillbilly Weather Station.”  It was a rock attached to a string.  It also had a card that went with it that said if the rock was hot, it was hot. If the rock was cold, it was cold. If the rock was wet, it was raining and finally, if the rock was swinging on the string, it was windy.  I like that and I think it’s probably accurate!  But today, they must give us a lot more information and most of the time I am grateful, except for this time.

This is this.  Instead of simply saying it is going to be hot they must go a step further and give us what they call the “feel like temperature.”  In other words, if the temperature is going to be 90 degrees and there happens to be a bunch of humidity in the air, well, they let us know it is going to feel like 100 degrees and we are going to be extra miserable. And, if it is cold and there is a wind, well, just to make sure we know how miserable we really are, we have wind chill. Now I know their intent is good, but I just wish they wouldn’t go the extra mile in defining and describing my misery.

If that isn’t enough, the news folks seem to feel like they must top the weather folks.  They scrap up every bit of bad, discouraging, and disgusting news they can find and then read it to us with passion and glee.  It is almost like they want to say, “You only thought things were bad…just listen to this”.  And “this” is always about the awfulness of our broken world.  Yup, I think the weather and news people are in cahoots with one another to make sure we are miserable.

Well, if that isn’t enough, then there are some folks that we bump into in our world, and it seems they just can’t wait to slosh their negativity on someone else.  Like Eeyore in the Winnie the Pooh stories, theirs is a “woe is me” world.  Eeyore once said, “I wish I could say yes…but I can’t.”  Well, the truth is we can.  In a world where some choices are limited, the choice of how we act, and think, is all ours.  We get to choose what stories our “newscast” is going to cast and what report our “weather reporter” is going to report.

One of the reasons I love God is that He is a positive thinker.  His book, the Bible, is a reality check but it is also a book of good news.  In fact, when describing the story of how much God loves us and how He sent His son into this broken world to pay the price for our sin…it is called “the” Good News or Gospel.  And if you allow that Good News to be your good news—well it changes everything.  So, if you need a change, if you need some Good News, why not try the Bible.  It will tell you the truth, but that truth includes God’s incredible love for me and for you.

In a part of the Bible called the New Testament, John, one of Jesus’ closest followers wrote, “See how very much our Father loves us, for He calls us His children, and that is what we are!” Wow…the God who made it all loves us enough to call us His own.  Now that is worth hearing about and the place to go to hear it is His Word.  So, when you are feeling down and things look hopeless, why not look up…to the God who wants to be your Dearest Daddy.  Imagine a world of Good News…with Someone who is waiting to whisper to you, “Don’t worry.  I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

 “As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience.” Luke 8:15

After all…it is Southern Illinois.  I was born and raised in the Southeastern corner of the United States and almost ironically—in the Northern corner of Florida.  Some people from the South want to downplay Florida almost like it is a Southern stepchild.  Anyway, I love the South and am proud of my Southern genes.  And just for the record—that doesn’t mean I am proud of everything Southern—if you follow me.

Now, with that said, there are plenty of things “Southern” that I love.  As an example, how about a hot serving of grits—no sugar ever.  Or how about a big slice of pecan pie or some collards, or turnip greens with side order of field peas. My goodness can someone say, “Amen.” And of course, you have to wash it all down with a big glass of iced sweet tea.  Anything else? Sure. How about an afternoon rocking on the front porch waving at people or maybe the kind of thunderstorm that shakes the windows and rattles the doors?  Oh yes, there’s plenty of the good life in the South.

Should I keep going? Well, there are peach orchards and those trees that produce the pecans for those pies. There are giant oaks and tall slender pines and yards filled with azalea bushes in full bloom and blanketed in Saint Augustine grass.  And of course, every imaginary image of the South needs a tall and beautiful Magnolia tree. There are two things that Judy and I can do to think of the South.  We can cross the bridge and visit Paducah “where they talk right” and we can just glance around town at the fine selection of Magnolia trees that grow right here in Southern Illinois.

I read in an article recently that the Magnolia is widely considered one of the most beautiful and fragrant trees of the South and I certainly agree. Its large, white and fragrant blossoms often dot main streets and gardens across the South—and I guess that includes Southern Illinois. But what I didn’t know is that its soil – when healthy – produces an equally wonderful aroma. They say the soil smells like a mix of cinnamon and fresh fruit—but there is more!

That good smelling soil around a Magnolia is a sure sign that the tree is in good condition. In other words—a tree in good condition smells good and so does the soil but the opposite is also true. When the tree is diseased or decaying, the soil around it produces a rancid, putrid smell that’s unmistakable. You might say the unseen is a good indicator of the health of what is seen.

How about you? When people are around you does your life smell of the fragrance of Christ?  Can people tell you belong to Him—not by the message on your hat or your shirt but rather the message of your attitude and actions? If someone was to dig around in your life, would they find the soil smells of Christ or something that is dead or dying? Let’s make it our desire, our goal to be like Him so we smell like Him. Let’s live in such a way that people, no matter how much they dig into our lives, know we are planted in the rich soil of His love. Let our fragrance be a life that shouts our faith—that “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

 “Whatever is good and perfect is a gift coming down to us from God our Father, who created all the lights in the heavens.” James 1:17

Boom…just like that.  This story dates back to when I still had to get up and go to work and it was one of those mornings.  I was running just a bit behind.  There wasn’t a clock to punch, no was going to say anything, but the truth is I needed to get to the office.  There was work to do and it seems there was more work than time.  I got everything done that needed to be done…I even remembered to take my medicine. I walked out the door and felt my pocket only to realize that the familiar lump wasn’t there.  I had forgotten my keys. Bummer.

So, I turned around, mumbling something about time and keys, and headed back into the house.  There is a place I usually put my keys and when I got there…they weren’t.  Bummer.  I walked over to the other side of the kitchen and checked on the counter.  Nope. Bummer. I walked back over to the other place, and they still weren’t there.  Then, I decided to go upstairs and check the pockets on the pants I had worn the day before.  Scratch that one too.  Then I went outside and asked Judy if she had seen my keys.  I think she gave me the “whose keys” look and said, “no.”

By now my frustration level was rising.  I checked in the car.  No.  I went back into the kitchen and checked the key thingy, and they weren’t there.  Bummer again.  So just for the fun of it I checked it all again and realized that I just might have misplaced or lost them. It was looking grim.  You see, this key wasn’t one of those go to Walmart three-dollar keys.  No, this was one of those three-hundred-dollar key fob things (there’s a reason I know this) and by now I am thinking of dollars.  I asked Judy to keep an eye out and I used the spare key and drove to work.

As soon as I got to work, I started telling the staff of my lost key woes.  I told them how I had looked everywhere, all with no luck.  They were sympathetic and I appreciated their shared woe but all of that didn’t help me find my keys.  So, I started doing some of that work I talked about earlier and after an hour or so, I texted Judy and asked her if she had had a chance to look for the missing keys.  Well, she hadn’t, so still no luck.  It was just about then that it happened.  She texted me and said she thought she had found the keys on the key thingy.  I told her that probably wasn’t them because I checked there twice.  She sent me a picture and there, in her hand, were my keys.

When I asked her where they were found and she said the key thingy, at first, I was embarrassed and then amazed.  Here is why.  I am one hundred percent certain that I checked there twice.  I would have bet my bottom dollar they were not there and yet…they were.  That only leaves two options.  First, I am blind and totally missed them. The second option is…God came to the rescue.  Call me crazy or call me nuts but I honestly believe that option two happened.  You see, given the nature of my Dearest Daddy I just wouldn’t be surprised if He didn’t reach down from heaven and placed the missing keys there.  After all, why wouldn’t He?  

I have had other incidents in my life when God did some crazy things and maybe that is why I’m sure He just did it again.  How about you?  Do you have any times when something crazy happened and looking back you realized there wasn’t an explanation?  I’m one of those people that believe God is a God who is into the details, and I also believe He is not too busy to do something like replace a set of missing keys.  Oh, God is a God of the big things, but He is not too busy to care about the little things too…like missing keys and wallets.

Let me encourage you to look for the small miracles around us.  In fact, let me encourage you to expect small miracles around us.  James, the half-brother of Jesus wrote a short book in the Bible.  In it he wrote, “Whatever is good and perfect is a gift coming down to us from God our Father, who created all the lights in the heavens.”  Spot on, James.  The God who made the stars can also do the small stuff…stuff that matters to us matters to Him.  So, as you journey today, and you hit a bump, don’t be afraid to ask for a little help from above.  He might help you over the bump or at least give you the grace to endure it.  Either way, you can know that “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne