Blog

Posted in Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture

When We Need A Win

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At 217

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Longest Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Faith and Shifting Sand

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Enjoy the Journey

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Daytona 500

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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