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

Posted in communication, Family, life, thankful, wisdom

Everyday Stories

 “Teach us to number our days carefully so that we may develop wisdom in our hearts.” Numbers 90:12 

It wouldn’t cut soft butter today but back then it was cutting edge. I’m a tech guy.  I loved the newest and greatest technology.  When a new something comes out, if I’m not careful, I am on my way to grab one.  Of course, the funny part is it usually ends up sitting around somewhere.  Even my iPhone is mad because of the hours it sits on the counter—unloved and unattended.  Frequently I have to apologize for not returning a call or not answering a text…not because I’m ignoring a person—I’m ignoring my phone.

This love affair with tech began when I was a kid. When it came time for Christmas, I would browse the Sears catalogue and dream of the cool gifts that might come my way. And somehow, Momma and Daddy, with a little help from Santa, would pull it off.  Of course, sometimes they surprised me.  It would have been Christmas of, oh, 1966 and I received something totally unexpected and totally cool. It was a small, battery powered, portable reel-to-reel tape recorder.  This was before eight-tracks, before cassettes…before anything.  The size of large book, it gave me the ability to record something and play that something back.

One time I took my recorder to my grandparent’s house in Gainesville, Florida.  My grandfather (there was no “Papa” with him) was talking with my Daddy and was even telling a joke.  I decided to start the recorder and record what they were saying. Sure enough it worked and later, I played the tape for everyone, and we all marveled at the ability for something so small to do that.  But here is the amazing part.  Somewhere in my stuff, is a small reel of tape and on that tape is my grandfather and my Daddy’s voices…probably the only recording to exist.  Even though they are gone…their voices live on.

Their.Voices.Live.On.  Think about that for just a moment.  Both of these men who influenced me so much have long since passed away. But through technology their voices can still be heard.  Oh, I know it is not a big deal now but back then…it was so unusual and that makes the recording valuable.  They are, if you will, speaking from the grave.

In one of those moments of clarity, I recently realized that I too, one day, will speak from the grave.  My life, my actions, my priorities, my values, sermons I have preached, and stories I have written, will all be left behind and all will speak.  And I wonder…what will they say of me and what will they say of who I was?  When my great grandchildren hear the stories of their great Papa, will those stories be stories worthy to share? Will the words encourage them to live right and do right, or leave them scratching their head like a batter thrown a good curve ball on a hot Saturday afternoon? We should all hope to leave a story that is worth telling…one that brings some light and laughter into their world.

There is a verse I keep coming back to time and again.  Moses wrote it thousands of years ago and yet is as fresh as today’s news.  He asked God to help him number his days that he could gain a wise heart.  He wasn’t asking for his math to be accurate when he counted birthdays.  No, he was asking that he be wise enough to make the most, the very most, of every single day.

Legacy.  It is a great word, and we are all leaving one.  The only question is, “What kind will it be?” That is up to us.  Five days a week I publish a story but in reality…I write one everyday…and so do you.  Let’s be sure to write one worth telling.  Fortunately, there is a publisher who is all about helping us and if we are Jesus followers, we call Him Dearest Daddy.  He is more than willing to help us write a best seller…after all, that’s just one more thing He does.  He’s got that too.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in life, priorities, Scripture, Trials, Uncategorized

What Time Is It?

“Teach them Your Word, Your Word is truth.” John 17:17b

It was the 60’s and 70’s. The novel, “A Tale of Two Cities” starts with “it was the best of times, it was the worst of times” and that pretty well describes those two decades.  Out of those somewhat crazy times came some of the best music ever written—at least modern music.  I know that is true because people from all the other decades seem to come back to the 60’s and 70’s. Some, ok, maybe a lot of it, was kinda crazy but that is what made it so cool.  There was a song that was released by the group Chicago in 1969 called, “Does Anyone Really Know What Time It Is.”  It was a quirky song, in fact, that is how the guy who wrote it described it.

What is kinda funny is that it is a song that my wife Judy and I live daily.  If you read Grits, you might remember that I like clocks a lot. It all started a long time ago and is one hobby or obsession that has stuck with me through the years.  I am intrigued because of the design and engineering that went into each clock.  Some of my clocks are babies, only sixty or seventy years old.  Some though are well over a hundred.  Some were bought at a shop somewhere, one special one was built by a couple of friends and two were built by me…with a little help from my friends.

In today’s world, so many clocks are engineering marvels and keep time very accurately.  But some of the older ones tend to be a little less accurate.  So that is where our song comes in.  You see most rooms in my house have a clock or two or three and often they are the older mechanical types.  So, you go into the room and look over there and there is a clock.  It says it is, oh, let’s say 2:13 pm.  Then you look over there and there is another clock, and it says it is 2:20 pm. Then on the wall going up the stairs is another clock that declares it is 2:05 pm.  What?

Well, all of that is not a problem until you are about to leave, and you need to know if you are on time or late.  And trust me, more than once, Judy has said, “So what time is it, anyway?”  Well, I know my clocks pretty well and I know their habits as well.  I pretty much know who runs slow and who runs fast and who doesn’t run at all.  So I can usually tell her just about what time it really is.  It can be a bit confusing…but in a pretty good if not quirky way.

The bottom line is if I really need to know the time, I have three good choices.  First, my trusty Apple Watch.  It is very accurate and if it is strapped to my wrist…it is an obvious first choice. The second choice is my phone which is married to my Apple Watch.  The only problem is I’m not married to my phone which means it may or may not be close by.  The third choice is the kitchen stove.  It always tells the truth…but it still depends on me setting it correctly. And if the power goes off, well, you get the flashy thing until I get around to setting it.

I was thinking, which is always a dangerous thing, that where we go for truth is a lot like trying to find the correct time.  Similar to the question in the song you might ask, “Does anyone really know what truth is and what it is not?”  Well, the answer is…wait for it…the Bible.  For millennia this most ancient of sacred writings has stood the test of time.  It has made the best seller list forever and while there are many different translations and reading styles…there never has been a version 2.1.  Do you know why?  It is timeless, changeless and without error.  I know, I know you might think differently or maybe heard differently but let me encourage to check it out for yourself.  Do some honest research and you will probably come to the same conclusion that I did—it can be trusted because it is the real deal.  And trust me…these days we need the real deal.

When you find yourself running around and asking everyone you meet, “Hey, does anyone really know what’s true and what’s not?” I hope you will turn to the one source that is spot on, right on and always on target. Jesus said it best when He said, “Teach them Your Word, Your Word is truth.” I like that…plain, simple truth. And, when you have a question, when you are stumped, just ask the One who knows and always speaks the truth—God.  Oh, and don’t worry, He always has the answer because He is the answer.  In other words, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in food, Grace, life, money, priorities, Scripture, thankful

Buyer’s Remorse

 “From His abundance we have all received one gracious blessing after another.” John 1:16

I wish I hadn’t—but I did.  Buyer’s remorse.  The official definition is, “a feeling of regret experienced after making a purchase, typically one regarded as unnecessary or extravagant.” I guess most of us have experienced it at one time or another.  Sometimes it is a minor deal.  You buy something from Walmart, get home, think about it and decide you really didn’t need it.  So, thanks to Walmart’s generous return policy, you lay it aside and the next time you are at the store, you simply return it.  No harm, no foul.

Then sometimes it isn’t quite the easy.  You are at the grocery store and your “you need to watch your diet” wife is out of town. Smile.  So, as you wind your way through the various aisles of calorie rich delights, you find yourself on the cookie aisle. The packages are calling your name and you say, “Why not?” Because you can’t decide you buy two and since your “you need to watch your diet” wife is not around, you eat both. As the last cookie of package number two slips past your lips, you realize you probably shouldn’t have bought two, or maybe even one, and you have a sense of remorse…diet remorse and buyer’s remorse.  Still, no big deal.  You wait 24 hours and don’t have a heart attack and hide the packages deep in the trash. No harm, no foul.

There are times when the fix is reclusive, and the consequences are bigger than an expanded waistline.  Twice, not once, I have bought new cars that I later regretted.  You know, you visit the lot, you see the car, you smell the car, you buy the car.  You feel important driving it and watch as people watch you driving it.  And then it happens.  A couple of payments down the road of too much debt and not enough payday, you get it.  Major, big time buyer’s remorse.  And this time, there is not a Walmart return policy, and the ouch is bigger than you ever imagined.  This time…well, it is certainly not “no harm, no foul.”

Yup, most of us have slipped on that banana peel.  The important thing is to learn.  Now, I have learned about the car thing…at least I think I have but the cookie thing…well, that is still a work in progress. Smile. And judging from the past, it might be a long, long road. You might be wondering, “Is there anyone who hasn’t experienced buyer’s remorse?”  The answer is yes and the who might surprise you.  That Who is God.

I’ve always been amazed with God.  He is so generous, so loving, and so kind.  He always goes the extra mile to show me that He is for me and not against me.  His patience with this slower learner causes me to wonder how He could not regret loving me.  But here is the deal…and don’t miss this.  God loved me enough to send His Son to a rugged, cruel cross to pay the payment for my sin. I didn’t deserve it and honestly no one does.  But it gets better.  He did that knowing that I wouldn’t always get it right. He did it knowing I would often get it wrong. But it gets better.

Here it is.  Not once in the past, no once today, not once tomorrow, not once for the zillion years of eternity yet to come will He ever have buyer’s remorse.  He made the deal and not once regretted making it. How is that even possible? How is that even conceivable?  Well, the answer is that God not only loves me, He also loves us. Perfectly. In other words, He loves us looking through the lens of His perfect Son.  Instead of seeing warts, He sees us whole and perfect.  Oh, not that we are, not that we ever will be…at least here.  No, it’s all because of His grace and His Son and His sacrifice for us.

So, today, be careful as you cruise the aisles of Walmart…and life.  You might want to avoid the cookie aisle and ice cream freezers of life…things that tend to lead to regret and consequences.  But by all means, be sure and linger in the grace aisle and take in the wonder of it all. As you look at all the packages of love and love notes from the One who loves you most, remember what John wrote, “From His abundance we have all received one gracious blessing after another.” And if you do happen to slip up, don’t worry.  He won’t change His mind about you.  After all, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, marriage, Southern born, sovereignty of God

Freefall

 “I have been young and now I am old, yet I have not seen the righteous abandoned or his children begging for bread.” Psalm 37:25

It seemed like a really, bad idea.  Right after high school graduation I jumped into the Air Force, and it turned out to be a really good idea.  Back in those days, or so it seemed, college wasn’t pushed for everyone, and I was pretty uncertain about what I wanted to do.  So, through a strange set of circumstances, I found myself in the military.  I loved it.  Raised as a good southern boy, the discipline required for a life in the service came naturally.  I was taught to respect others and especially those appointed over me.  “Yes sir” and “Yes ma’am” were part of my vocabulary long before the Air Force taught me to say it.

By 1980, I had been stationed in Minot, North Dakota, Valdosta, Georgia (where I met and married the best wife a guy could ask for), spent three years in Germany and finally landed in Knob Noster, Missouri.  Like I said, I liked the Air Force, and it seemed the Air Force liked me.  I was picked for several key assignments and was on track promotion wise.  With a young family, the security the Air Force provided was an added benefit and while I wasn’t going to get rich in the Air Force, the pay provided a good life.  Yup…life was good.

Then God spoke.  No, it wasn’t an audible voice, but it was one clear enough that I knew He had a change of plans in mind.  I felt, I knew that He was calling me to become a pastor but that wasn’t all.  I also knew for me that meant leaving the Air Force.  I think that was probably for a couple of reasons.  First, I knew that as long as I was in the Air Force, I would be tempted to lean on that for security and not God.  Second, I also knew that the Air Force would be calling the shots about my future.  Well, that led up to me making one of the biggest changes in my life…after 12 years…leaving the lifestyle and security of the Air Force and jumping into the secure arms of faith and the life of a pastor.

When I went public with this it seemed that everyone had an opinion and a lot of those opinions followed one school thought—you are nuts.  Certainly, the military thought it was a bad idea. After all, they liked me, and I liked them.  I was on track for a good career and great retirement.  You see, with the military, you can retire with 20 years and draw a pension equal to half of your base pay.  You also get other benefits for the rest of your life.  All that led to the “you are nuts” thing and this is really not good idea. But then…there was God.

You see, I was, oh, somewhere beyond probably and just shy of absolutely certain that God was asking me, telling me to do this.  And somehow, some way, Judy and I with two toddlers under three were able to believe and jump.  And now, looking back on a forty-two year career, I am able to say that God took that “really not a good idea” and turned it into a really good idea.  He faithfully and completely cared for us over those four decades. I’m sure if I had stayed in the Air Force, I would have had a nice, secure life. I’m sure things would have turned out just fine.  But God’s idea went somewhere beyond nice and secure and somewhere beyond just fine.

If I’ve learned anything from all of this, it is that God’s ideas are always, and I do mean always, better than mine.  I have learned and I am learning that faith beats fine every time.  The adventure, the challenges, the “mysterious ways of God” that we have experienced together trumps a nice retirement and manmade security.  There’s a verse, and I’m really not sure all that it means, but it sure seems to ring true with me.  The author says that he had never seen the righteous forsaken or his family begging for bread.  Like I said, I’m not sure what that means entirely but looking back from where I sit, it says, “God is good, God is faithful, and God can be trusted.”

God is good, God is faithful, and God can be trusted. Period.  Your story is probably a lot different than mine but if you are a God follower let’s all agree on that part.  He really is good, He really is faithful, and yes, He can be trusted.  So, in these days of uncertainty and in these days when up is down and down is up—listen carefully for the still small voice of your Dearest Daddy.  Let Him whisper His better idea…and then trust. Don’t worry, you are not nuts—you’re a man, a woman and child of faith.  And that is always best because, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in friends, life, loving others, Scripture, thankful, travel

Chief Wounded Cheek

“For all have sinned.” Romans 3:23a

Turns out this falling thing isn’t new.  If you are a regular reader of Grits, you might remember that about once a year I decide to see if my body will still bounce. A couple of years ago it was Indian Point Trail.  I tripped over a root and before you could say, “shoot that thang”  I was stretched out flat on my face.  It was painful.  Then a year later I hung my toe on the edge of my patio and did it all over again.  And yes, I fell hard and yes, it hurt.  In fact, my hand still be bears the scars from that one. And then, last summer, in the mother of all falls, a mule named Daisy and I parted company. Ouch.

So, the other day, I was thinking (I sometimes do that) and remembered another time and another fall and this one garnered me a new name.  When I pastored another church in another town, we had a great guy named Bob who would take a bunch of us to the Smoky Mountains and hike to the top of Mount Le Conte. We did this for several years and I am pretty sure I made the trip each time.  We would leave early and get to the mountains around mid-afternoon.

Bob was a pro at this hiking stuff, and he knew the importance of warming up.  So that afternoon, the day before the big hike, we would take a warmup hike.  I remember one time the warmup hike was the Chimneys and if you have ever done that one you know it isn’t that long but it is a killer.  As I remember, the warmups made the real deal almost anti-climactic.  And then, there was another time that I remember…well.

So, we got to the mountains and prepared for the warmup.  This one, as I remember, wasn’t straight up…in fact it was kinda level but it did involve crossing a couple of boulder strewn creeks.  And crossing one of those creeks gave me a new name.  As we crossed, we carefully picked our way over and around the rocks…leaning on our hiking sticks and trying to stay dry.  We did pretty good…I did pretty good…until I didn’t. Yup…you guessed it…down I went.

Gratefully, back then I bounced even better than I do now.  That time I didn’t fall flat on my face, I didn’t fall on my side, I fell on my, uh, well, my bottom.  It all happened in a split second, and I am sure if my pants hadn’t been double stitched, I would have split something else.  Well, once everyone determined that I wasn’t mortally wounded, the laughter started.  The sight of their fearless pastor laying, sitting catawampus—half in and half out the water—was too much to contain.

And then someone, who knows who, said it.  “It” was my new name.  They said, “Look there is “Chief Wounded Cheek.”  Well, then everyone, and I mean everyone, started laughing again.  Well, they helped me out and up and we continued our warmup hike but for the rest of the trip and several months later, I was “Chief Wounded Cheek.” Even to this day the memories make me smile because we had shared life together and laughed together.

There is one more thing that I so appreciated about that special group of friends, and friends like them through the years—they allowed me to be human.  You see sometimes people like to put leaders on some sort of pedestal.  The problem is that is a place they should never be because if and when they fall, well, sometimes it is unrecoverable. One of the best things you can do for a leader is love them, respect them, but allow them to be human.  And what is true of leaders and pastors is true of husbands, wives, and yes, parents. Remember, we all walk on clay feet.

Well, I’m glad to report that Chief Wounded Cheek is still bouncing along and gratefully most of the time, most of the people allow me to be human. Paul, the guy who wrote a large portion of the New Testament, reminded us that everyone of us are sinners—you know, broken people.  At one time or another, we have all messed up. The good news is that failure doesn’t have to be final.  The other good news is if we are wise, we will learn when we fail.  Someone said, “If you aren’t failing, you aren’t learning.” I like that. Oh, and the final good news is that when we fail, there is someone standing by who says, “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, gratitude, life, Memorial Day, Military memories, Scripture, thankful, travel, Uncategorized

Thank You, Mr. Charles

 “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13

It’s the way it ought to be.  Memorial Day several years ago found my wife and I on the road again.  That’s a good thing.  2020, as we all know, was a year with most travel shut down for a chunk of the year.  It was almost refreshing to spend time again waiting in line as hundreds of other travelers rediscovered the freedom to travel this great land.  It was busy because the COVID threat was thankfully in retreat, but it is also Memorial Day weekend…the traditional start of summer.  Smile.

As we were waiting to board, the announcer person at the desk announced that the boarding process would be starting in just a few minutes.  She let us know that there was going to be a “pecking” order for boarding.  Those with special needs and little children were allowed to board first, followed by the people who were what they called “Sky Priority” and what I would call, “the blessed.”  That group included the “First Class” folks as well as those in business class.  They would all be followed by the normal people in the main cabin.  But there was one more group of people who received special treatment…and boy, did they deserve it.

Right behind the people with special needs and small children came this announcement, “Those individuals on active duty in the United States Armed Forces are invited to board now.”  Yup…that’s right.  Delta did it right.  They gave special honor to those serving their country and the reason was simple…they deserved it.  And they don’t do it just on Memorial Day weekend—they do it all the time—because they deserve it all the time.  Every day, but especially today, we have the opportunity to do what Delta does on every flight—honor those who are serving our country.  And we can take it one step farther—we can honor those who have served.  I know that is normally reserved for Veteran’s Day, but can we thank them enough for all they have done for all of us?

My wife stumbled upon a story on Facebook that struck especially close to home…literally.  We contacted them and received permission to share their post. It goes like this, “When Mr. Charles & Ms. Debbie, with C.D. Ives logging company, were working on clearing trees at a job site north of Naylor in Lanier County, Georgia, between GA Highway 135 & U.S. Highway 221, Mr. Charles noticed the A-10s from Moody Air Force Base would regularly fly over where he was clearing trees; sometimes they would get so close he could easily make out the pilot in the cockpit!”

“He figured since he could see them, maybe they’d be able to see a message letting them know his appreciation for what they do, using only what he had on hand at his job site: trees! Mr. Charles positioned them to spell out “THANKS USAF,” painting them in red, white, & blue paint so they stand out a little better.” The author went on to say, “Hopefully, the pilots have been able to catch a glimpse of this “Thank You” from Mr. Charles & Ms. Debbie as they fly over!”  (credit: 05.30.21 The Georgia Photography Fanatic, https://www.facebook.com/thegeorgiaphotographyfanatic)  I can only add, how appropriate and how thoughtful.

Like I said, it strikes close to home.  You see, Judy was raised right there in that South Georgia area and me, well, I spent four years stationed at Moody Air Force Base myself and yes, it was there that I met Judy and we began our life together.  I am grateful that Mr. Charles took it upon himself to honor those pilots at Moody and I hope they got the message.  But the question is this, “What can we do right now, today, to honor those who paid the ultimate price and for those who served or are serving?”

Well, there will be multiple opportunities.  Maybe your community will have a Memorial Day service or parade today.  Why not attend?  Why not take your children and let them experience the honor afforded those who gave their life that we could be free?  Why not visit a local cemetery and look for graves that mark the deceased as a member of the armed forces?  Why not stop and say thanks to someone you know who served their country in one of the armed forces?  Why not thank God for your freedom and their sacrifice?  Why not make a point today to find a way to say, “Thank-you?”

One of the most powerful love verses in the Bible says, “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” The Book makes it clear that those who die for another or even those willing to die for others are worthy of our honor and respect.  So, let’s all enjoy the time with family and friends today.  Have a burger and a dog but make it a priority to remember what it is all about—honoring those who laid their life on the line that we could be free.  Remembering their sacrifice and remembering the awesome love and power of our great God will also help us remember that no matter what, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, gratitude, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

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

Posted in friends, Grace, loving others, priorities, Scripture

Coon Hunting

 “My heart is filled with bitter sorrow and unending grief for my people, my Jewish brothers and sisters. I would be willing to be forever cursed—cut off from Christ!—if that would save them.” Romans 9:2-3

You know, whatever it takes.  I loved being a pastor and I loved it when people started coming to church.  I’ve always tried to encourage the folks who attended our church to make sure that everyone…and I mean everyone, felt welcome.  Church is not a country club where you pay your dues to be served.  Church is more like a hospital where people come because they know they need help. Those that are already there are not there to be served but to serve. So when a guest comes to church it should be treated like a big deal…because it is.

Now being friendly isn’t costly—in fact, often it blesses us more than the one on the receiving end of our friendliness.  I figure it might just give them a good reason to come back.  Of course there are those times when you need to go just a little further.  And this time…was one of those times.  When I pastored in another town, a family began attending our church  and I did my best to make them feel welcome.  Mom and the kids seemed very open and before long they were regular attenders.  Dad, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as open.  This one, I thought to myself, needs a little extra effort and that is how it happened.

It turned out that Brad was a coon hunter.  He happened to mention it one day at church and I told him I had never been coon hunting and he began to describe this late night adventure.  Now honestly, running around in the woods in the dark in the middle of the night wasn’t something on my bucket list but seeing Brad get closer to God was…so I went coon hunting.

Brad told me to show up at his house about dark and we would leave from there.  He had a coon dog and a flashlight…oh, and a gun.  We began walking out towards the woods behind his house and before long the old coon dog began to get pretty excited.  So Brad let the dog go, waited just a minute, and then said to me, “Let’s go.” Well, I soon found out that coon hunting isn’t like following a trail in the woods.  Coon hunting is like walking, and running, through the Amazon Rainforest, at night trying to follow a bellowing dog who doesn’t necessarily want to be followed.  We were slapped in the face by branches, tripped over big roots, and crossed a couple of creeks. Can someone say, “Wet feet?”  Yup, just like that old song about going over the river and through the woods…that is what we did…but there wasn’t a grandmother or a house anywhere in the picture.

So eventually, the coon dog gave up and so did we.  We tramped back through the woods and after an hour or so, found ourselves back at my car and his house.  We were wet, tired and coonless. I told Brad thanks for taking me on such an adventure and I hoped to see him Sunday at church.  I drove home and slipped in between the sheets somewhere around two in the morning.  I was somewhere beyond tired but also sure it was the right thing.

Best I remember Brad  did start coming to church a little more regularly but I don’t believe he made a Jesus commitment…at least not then.  Occasionally we would talk about the great adventure and we would laugh about me tramping through the woods in the middle of the night. Fortunately, there wasn’t a second invitation to go coon hunting.  Brad didn’t know Jesus yet but he did know about mercy. Smile.

So as we journey along this Jesus road we need to ask ourselves, “What are we willing to do to be Jesus to the ones we bump into?”  They say the best sermons are the ones not preached from the pulpit.  Amen to that. Someone also said, “People don’t care now much you know until they know how much you care.”  Amen to that too. Paul, the guy in the Bible who wrote most of the New Testament said that he was willing to lose his relationship with Jesus if it meant his friends could be saved.  Wow…that is commitment.  That is amazing.

When you are trying to decide what to do to reach people…or what not to do…just listen for the voice of the Whisperer.  Most likely you will hear His gentle voice and when you do just do what He says.  Trust Him.  Believe Him. Share Him.  Oh, and should it involve chasing a coon dog through the woods in the middle of the night, don’t worry.  He’s got that.  Bro. Dewayne