Posted in Family, food, friends, gratitude, heaven, life, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, travel

Ham-less Sandwich

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.” Philippians 4:4

She thought it was funny.  This year God decided to take my sister Kathy home. One of my favorite memories and stories involves her and a ham sandwich—or the lack of one. Many years ago, my family and I were visiting her and her husband Stann.  They lived way down South in the land of grits and hospitality, and we lived just across the Ohio River in Southern Illinois.  We had a great visit with them but soon it was time for us to head North.  All of my sisters are good cooks…something they must have got from Momma.  They also have good hospitality genes.  When you visit you feel welcome and when you leave, you know you will be missed.

Well, when it came time for us to leave, Miss Hospitality kindly made us lunch.  She said, “I packed y’all some snacks and ham sandwiches so you can stop on the way and have a picnic”.  I remember thinking just how kind that she was—to go through all that trouble and to save us a few dollars to boot.  So, we loaded up and off we went.  The girls were young, only seven or eight, and Sarah was not even a glimmer in our eyes. We drove and drove and then we drove some more and before long it was time for the big picnic.

We decided to stop at a picnic area on Nickajack Lake just north of the Georgia border and right inside Tennessee.  It was a beautiful place for a great picnic lunch.  My mouth watered as I thought about those delicious ham sandwiches with all the trimmings.  Did I mention how nice she was?

Well, we found a parking spot and chose a picnic table near the lake.  Could it be any better?  Well, I’m sure we bowed our heads in prayer, thanking God for the food and for the kindness of the one who made it possible.  Judy passed out the sandwiches and strangely, I didn’t see any fixings.  Hmmm. That was a bit strange.  Nevertheless, I was grateful for the sandwich, and I must have been the first to take a bite.  Uh, something was wrong.  Something was missing.

As I bit through the bread, there was no ham…there was no mustard…there was no mayo.  All that lay between the bread was a single piece of paper that read, and I quote, “Ha, Ha, Ha.”  Wait.  What? Well apparently, my Southern belle, hospitality laden sister had decided to play a practical joke.  There were no ham sandwiches, only meatless slices of bread.  Strangely, I don’t remember laughing. I only remember mourning the loss of my free lunch. Ha.Ha.Ha.

They say what goes around comes around and all my life I have been a practical joker and this time the joke was on me, my wife Judy and two precious, little hungry daughters.  I guess the winner of the day was McDonald’s who ended up with my $6.75 after all.  While I don’t remember laughing and I’m glad I don’t remember being mad either.  In fact, I am sure that before long (but after a visit to McDonald’s), we were all laughing and couldn’t wait to call my sister when we got home.

As we journey through life, we are going to have a lot of opportunities to either laugh or well, get mad.  Can I suggest, may I encourage you, us, to do the former and not the latter?  Too often we allow the fire of the moment to burn some valuable bridges.  I can imagine a nasty phone call with words of regret and then days, weeks and months of silence from a broken relationship.  Crazier things have happened, trust me.  But gratefully, that wasn’t the way this story ended. The funny thing is about a month before she went to heaven, I was retelling this story and while she denied it—trust me—it is true.

Paul, the guy who wrote a lot of the New Testament, sitting in a Roman prison with NO ham sandwiches said, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I will say, Rejoice.” Well spoken, Paul, well spoken. So tomorrow or the next day, if you hit a bump, try to remember to smile and not frown.  If someone decides to pull a joke at your expense, go ahead and extend a little grace and a smile. When you do, if you do—you can be sure the Father is smiling too.  And no matter what, as always, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful

Just Fifteen Minutes

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

Just fifteen minutes. I like stories…the ones I write and the ones I read. This one, or at least a part of it, fits the latter. The story tells the story of the beginning of a wildcat preacher named Billy Sunday. Now I just have to let you know I read this story several times and it wasn’t until later on that I realized it wasn’t about Billy Graham but Billy Sunday. Oh well…sometimes I amaze myself. Well, when Billy Sunday became a Christian as a young man, a fellow believer gave him some advice that he never forgot. He said, “Let God talk to you fifteen minutes a day through His Word. Talk to God fifteen minutes a day in prayer. Talk for God fifteen minutes a day.”

The other believer went on to say that if Billy would practice these things in his life as a Christian, no one would ever write the word backslider after his name. Well, it turns out that Billy Sunday followed this advice and became one of the most powerful evangelists in the history of the American church. God used his wildcat personality in his preaching but more importantly God used his heart. Those three 15-minute segments consistently used in his life changed his life for the rest of life.

So, what do you think?  How could, how would our lives change if we were to allow God the floor and microphone in our lives to talk to us? While God sometimes uses other people to speak into our lives, and sometimes He uses life circumstances, most often God whispers to us, speaks to us, through His Word. Fifteen concentrated, uninterrupted minutes in His Word is a game changer. If you are like me, you will find giving Him the floor without interruption is a challenge. After all, too often, instead of listening we are just waiting for the other person to stop talking! So, let’s give God His fifteen minutes.

The second part of the formula is important too. Imagine you had just fifteen minutes to tell God what you wanted Him to know. How would you use the time? I imagine we would not only choose our words carefully but also the topics. We would use that time wisely. I think sometimes we are afraid of prayer—afraid we will mess it up. Remember this.  Prayer is simply talking to God. You don’t need fancy words, a complicated formula or a gimmick. You just need to come to Him with an honest and sincere heart. Go ahead—He’s waiting.

The last fifteen minutes is equally important—telling others what God has done for us. I am certain we make talking about Jesus a lot harder than it should be. Often sharing is just a matter of telling our Jesus story to someone else. We share what He has done and how we are different because of Him. Just fifteen minutes times three and not only would it change us—we might just help change the world.

I think the most exciting part of all of this is the fact that we get to discover the amazing path that our amazing God has planned for us. I think Ephesians 3:20 says it best. It says, “Now to him who is able to do above and beyond all that we ask or think according to the power that works in us—to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.” Sounds to me like, “He’s got this!”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture, thankful

Coach

A man who has friends must himself be friendly.” Proverbs 18:24

We had a new staff member at 217. If you are a regular reader of “Grits” you know a lot about the Taylor tribe.  Included in that information is the fact that my wife, Judy, and I have an Airbnb over our garage.  It is a classy two-bedroom apartment that we rent out as a short-term vacation rental.  We have lots of people staying and well, it is quite fun.  Our staff is small at 217.  There is Judy who manages everything and trust me that is a big job.  She also helps with the cleaning when needed.  We have a friend who does the bulk of our cleaning, and she is awesome!  She is always willing to go the extra mile and when Judy and I need to be gone she makes sure the water fountains stay running and flowers keep blooming. My job is to serve as the occasional handy man and the guy who mows and trims the grass. It is not the most important job but trust me in grass growing season I am definitely the man.

So that is the staff at 217…or at least it was…for a while.  A couple of years ago a new and unexpected member was added to the team.  His name was Coach. Here’s the deal. One day our neighbors, who are also awesome, decided to get a cat to make sure no unwanted rodents took up residence in their garage. So, they got a cat and named him Coach. Now to be honest I am not a big fan of cats.  Most of them are a little bossy and arrogant so at first, I was pretty cool on the idea of a new feline friend.  And then it happened.

As it turns out, Coach had more personality than most people I know.  He was cool and calm and way friendly.  You know how some cats think they own the place?  Well, Coach was satisfied with just working the crowd.  If Judy and I were out on the patio, he would sway his way over and just make his presence known in a gentle way.  It seemed he was saying, “Hey, my name is Coach, and I just wanted to say hi.” Now really, this cat had it down.  You couldn’t help but like him.  Now if I am cool on cats, Judy is cold but not this one.  While she wouldn’t want one of her own, she sure was glad when Coach came to the neighborhood.

Now this is the 217 part.  When a guest would pull up at 217 and park, it was not unusual for Coach to come over and say hi.  It almost seemed that he was just waiting for them to arrive.  You would think that he had peeked at Judy’s reservation book to see when guests were coming.  At first, we were a little concerned that the guests might see him as a bother but not to worry.  He was a hit almost every time.

One day, I came home from work and there was our guest bending down to pet Coach. At first, I always explained that he wasn’t our cat but belonged to the neighbors. But when he became a social rock star, I let that go.  I mean if the guests wanted to think that Mr. Cool belonged to me who am I to correct them?  Way to go Coach.  Way to go.

Do you know what?  If I were a cat, I would want to be like Coach.  But wait…why can’t I, why can’t we be like Coach now?  Why can’t we make a conscious decision to be kind? Friendly? Loving?  Hmmm…the truth is we can.  Every day we bump into people, dozens of them, and have the opportunity to make them feel special.  Every day we bump into people and have the opportunity to be a friend, to offer a smile, to make their day a little better.  Every day we have the choice.  I like that.  I want that.

Well, Coach is no longer with us. One day he tried to cross the road and didn’t make it. We all grieved for him…we even had a short service for him. I know that all cats are not like Coach, and I certainly know that not all people are like Coach, but I also know we all can be.  Tucked away in the Christian Bible is a book called Proverbs.  In that book is this, “A man who has friends must himself be friendly.” In other words, if we want friends, we need to be one.  If we want others to like us…we need to be likable. I saw a quote that said, “Our vibes draw our tribes.”  That is so true.  Let’s take a lesson from Coach and be the kind of person who makes someone’s day.  Need a little help?  Well, the “Head Coach” is just waiting to lend a hand.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture, spiritual battles, thankful, travel, Trials

Cuttin’ Wood…Or Not

Understand this, my dear brothers and sisters: You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry.” James 1:19

Someone was out working real early. Some good friends of ours had invited my wife Judy and I to stay in their Villa down in Nashville. Well, since I am now retired, what would have been a pipe dream became a reality. So, we packed the car and headed South—where grits are a regular staple and people talk right. We stayed a few days and enjoyed the opportunity to just relax.

Each morning, I would rise early, get a cup of coffee and go out on the back patio and say good morning to the new day and thank my Dearest Daddy for making it possible. As I was sitting there rocking and enjoying it all, I heard a sound that I knew. Even though it was very early and even though it was Sunday morning, I heard what sounded like a table saw cutting wood. I thought it all a little strange but not too strange because they are still building homes in the area.

Well, before long, Judy came out and joined me and I called her attention to the fact that someone was cutting wood on a table saw. She agreed that is what it sounded like and then just like that—they quit. Well, it must have been time for a break or whatever. The rest of the day, when I would go rock on the back porch, it seemed no one was working.  Until the next morning.

Yup, so the next morning I once again made my way the back patio, coffee in hand, and sat down and once again heard the saw going to town. I sure admired the work ethic of whoever was sawing all that wood. The day before I had talked to one of the guys who oversaw maintaining the lawns and I thanked him for doing a good job and he told me how he worked seven days a week.  He and the guy cutting wood certainly knew about hard work.  So, on to the back porch that early Monday morning. Judy came out, we rocked and chatted as the unknown worker continued to cut wood. And, it was just about then, that I figured it out.

You see, the house behind us had a sprinkler system that turned on each morning. Well, that sprinkler system had one sprinkler head that was put so that as it watered the yard the water would hit the metal fence and when that high pressure water hit the metal fence…it sounded like someone sawing wood on a table saw. How about that? Turns out there wasn’t a hard worker cutting wood way too early but rather just a water sprinkler doing its thing.

Now, I was convinced of what I heard but as sure as I was—I was wrong. My big takeaway that morning taught me that you can’t believe everything you hear…no matter how real or how probable it sounds. We have all heard things about situations and people, and it sounded so possible we just bought it as the truth. And all too often…we find out that we were wrong…and sometimes tragically wrong.

Let me suggest that we all memorize or at least imprint the truth found in James 1:19 into our hearts and lives.  It says, “Understand this, my dear brothers and sisters: You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry.” In other words, learn to listen carefully and accurately, be slow to spread what we think we know and very slow to get mad when we are proven wrong.  It’s no accident that God gave us two ears and one tongue. Just remember, when you think you know something, check it out with your Dearest Daddy—after all, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, prayer, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Used To, Ain’t Now

Can a man scoop a flame into his lap and not have his clothes catch on fire? Can he walk on hot coals and not blister his feet?” Proverbs 6:27-28

I should have been more careful.  I should have known better. I have a long history of cutting firewood and being around the woods.  For the better part of 17 or 18 years, wood was our primary, and sometimes only, source of heat.  It all started back in LaMonte, Missouri and continued when we moved to Cobden, Illinois…in fact, that is where it really became a part of our lives.  We lived in a large Victorian home and our heat was whatever was piled in the driveway.  So, with the help of a very good friend named Gerry, virtually every Saturday we would go and “cut wood.”

As the years went by, I learned a lot about safety in the woods.  I remember the first time I used a chain saw back in LaMonte.  The guys told me to be careful and never pull the saw toward you.  Yeah, well, one of the first things I did was pull the saw toward me (call me a slow learner) and nick my leg.  I learned about how to notch a tree, sharpen a chain and how to load and stack wood.  I learned a lot.  But one thing that I never paid much attention too was poison ivy.  While I never intentionally rolled in it, it seemed for the most part I was one of those lucky people who it didn’t affect.  Well, that all changed one day…not in the woods but in my backyard at 217.

It turns out, I guess, that I was indeed lucky but not in the way that I thought.  I was lucky that it never “got me” and somehow, someway, recently it did.  We were sitting around the other day, and I was wearing shorts.  I noticed on my left leg several (five to be exact) small red dots.  I told Judy, “Look at these bites on my leg.”  They were in random places, and I thought that a mosquito or two had decided to have lunch.  Well, again, I was wrong.

In a very short time, it became evident I had somehow, someway, gotten into some poison ivy.  Those five small dots grew into narrow strips of angry, red, raised, skin and it was very apparent that what I thought couldn’t get me…did.  Now as outbreaks go, this one wasn’t very bad but for a guy who never had it, for a guy who thought it wouldn’t, couldn’t get him, it was bad enough. It itched, then itched some more, and then just for fun…itched some more.  So far, and notice that means it is still going on, I have managed not to scratch it, but I will be very glad when this is in the rearview mirror.

The crazy thing is I really don’t know when or where it happened.  We have a little bit in our yard but even though I didn’t think I was allergic; I was also pretty careful.  I hadn’t been in the real woods, but one thing is for sure…I got too close somehow, somewhere. And, because of that I have some pretty unpleasant circumstances.  Maybe I wasn’t careful enough.  Maybe I thought it might get you but not me.  Maybe I didn’t look close enough in the flowerbeds around our yard.  All that really doesn’t matter I suppose.  What does matter is that it got me.  It.Got.Me.

Did you know that sin, those things that God and culture both warn us about, can and will get us?  Did you know that even though we think it will happen to someone else and not us…it can…it will?  Did you know that regardless of how “innocent” we think we might be…the consequences are the same?  Judy always told me about poison ivy.  Being a garden person, she told me, “Leaves of three…let it be.”  I clearly heard her but frankly, since it seemed I couldn’t get it, I just didn’t pay close attention.  Now, oh yes now, I know differently.  We would do well to treat sin the same way.

The Bible, in the Old Testament part, asks a really good question.  In the Book of Proverbs, it asks if a man can hug fire to his chest and not be burned?  Of course, the obvious answer is no, you can’t.  But it turns out the writer isn’t talking about fire…he is talking about sin.  Mess with sin and you are going to get burned and with the burn comes the consequences and with the consequences come misery.  It is true with poison ivy, and it is true with sin.

Well, the bottom line is regardless of my long history with not getting poison ivy, I now have a new history and trust me I am going to be a lot more careful around my three-leaf adversary.  Green and lush or not…it is not my friend…and neither is that thing we often run to…sin.  If you stumble into poison ivy there are a few things that can help with the itch.  And, if you stumble into sin, well, His grace is more than enough.  Just ask the Heavenly Father and He will be more than willing to help.  You might say, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in birthday, Family, food, friends, gratitude, life, loving others, priorities, school days, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, travel

Cheese Grits and Turnip Greens

So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when He adopted you as His own children. Now we call Him, “Abba, Father.” Romans 8:15

It was a good gig.  It was my daughter Jennifer’s 40th birthday and her husband Matt decided to do it right.  He booked them on a Disney cruise and then to top it off a couple of days at Disney.  They asked Judy if she could come down and stay with the kids and of course she said yes.  So, after some adjustments with her calendar and making sure everything at 217 (our Airbnb) was covered…she was on the road again.  And me…well…I stayed back, watered the plants, filled the fountains, and did work stuff.

Well, by Thursday night I was ready for a visit, so I loaded up the car and headed south to Murray.  It is funny but when you cross the bridge into Kentucky, you can tell you are in the South.  After a couple of hours of driving I found myself with my favorite big person and two of my favorite smaller people—my wife, Judy and two of my grandchildren, Ellie and James. All three of them are pretty keen on me and that always makes me feel so special. After a night of riding around the neighborhood with the windows down and the sunroof open, we headed back to the house and before too long…bed.

The next morning, after we took them to school, we eventually ended up back in Murray and it was time for lunch.  There are plenty of options in Murray, but we ended up at a place we had tried before and really enjoyed.  As we walked through the door, the sign said the special of the day, since it was Friday, was fish.  That sealed the deal.  Now the special sounded good for a couple of reasons—lots of food and a great price—$10.99.  So here is how it played out.  For my $10.99 I got four large fillets of fish.  Now, I’m pretty sure they weren’t farm raised catfish, but they were still plenty tasty.  So, plenty of fish…check.  Then it came with French fries…hot and plenty…check.  Three hushpuppies…fried golden brown and very good…check.  Three onion rings…these also were very good…lightly battered and fried just right…check. Whew. That was a lot of food…good food.  But we weren’t done.

The special also came with two more sides.  Now this place listed about twenty-two different sides, and they were not just sides…many of them were southern sides.  I won’t list them all, but I will tell you what I ordered.  First, I had a bowl full of cheese grits.  They were delicious with lots of cheddar cheese.  My final side was a bowl full of southern seasoned turnip greens.  Well, by now I am in hog heaven.  I mixed up a mound of tartar sauce and ketchup and started eating and it was just good.  Believe it or not, this food eating preacher didn’t even come close to eating it all.  I was forced to leave some it behind…too full to even think of carrying some home.

Now that you all are wanting to know the name of the place in Murray and you are drooling over yourself, here’s why I wrote this.  First, I just love a good deal.  I love it when I go to a place to eat, and it is a good value…plenty of good food for a good price and this place nailed it.  Second, it spoke to my heritage.  Everything from the hushpuppies to the cheese grits to the turnip greens just tasted southern.  And since my roots go deep in the South, all of it said one thing…home and we all know there is no place like home.

Now that I think about it that is what I like about Jesus too.  When I think of Him…when I spend time with Him, I always feel at home.  I never feel like a stranger, I never feel like a visitor.  It’s like He invites me in and tells me to sit back, relax and stay a while.  And when I am with Him, I know I am experiencing my new heritage.  Every day with Him my roots grow deeper and deeper.  On one side it is like spending time with my best friend and on the other it is like being with a special family member.  Maybe that it is…after all, when I asked Jesus to forgive me of all my sin, His Father became my Father…my Dearest Daddy and that is all so very special.

So, if you are planning a trip to Murray, Kentucky, let me know and I’ll point you in the right direction.  And if you are looking for a place that sure feels like home, well, just ask Jesus and He will invite you in to stay.  But like those southern sides…it gets better and better.  When you get Jesus…you get the Father…one that invites you to call Him Dearest Daddy.  It’s true…it’s in the Bible.  And He will be glad to help you as you do life.  Take it from me, I know, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne 

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

More Notable than a Two-Dollar Bill

So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other. Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are My disciples.” John 13:34-35

I have three. Sometimes money can be quite a rarity. In fact, when I was in the military and was paid every two weeks, sometimes it became quite rare indeed. The other day, I decided to display a couple of bills I have—one rare and one pretty rare.  The rare one is a one-hundred-dollar bill printed and hand dated from the Civil War. It is dated 1862 (which makes it 162 years old) and promises to pay the bearer $100 dollars, and 2 ½ cents per day in interest within six months of the end of the war—if the Confederate States won.  Oops. Perhaps the strangest thing is the fact that no one know where it came from. I found it in my mother’s Bible but beyond that…it seems no one knows how she acquired it.  Hmmmm.

The second bill I have is not nearly as old but still has an interesting story. It is a United States two-dollar bill. I read that while they are still printed in limited numbers, they are usually snatched up and stuck away. I have several—most of them received at a store or bank. I gave one to one of my grandsons. He spent it. Now what is most interesting about this two-dollar bill is the story of why it exists in the first place.

Here’s the story I heard. I read many years ago that the government wanted to measure the impact of a military base on the local economy and at the same time let the people see that impact. So, they would pay (keep in mind this is long before direct deposit) the soldiers, sailors and airmen in two-dollar bills. As the money entered the local economy, it was a ready reminder of the difference the base, or bases, were making there. In Jacksonville, Florida, where I was born and raised, we had four naval bases in the area so you can imagine there were quite a few of these two-dollar bills floating around. Whether it is true or not, it brings up a good point to consider.

If you think about it—it was a smart way to measure impact. It also made me wonder if there is a way we can measure another kind of impact—the impact of believers and churches in our communities. I remember being asked the following question at a pastor’s conference. The speaker said, “If your church closed tomorrow, would the people in your community even notice?” That was years ago but it still rings in my heart. In my years of pastoring, I always tried to lead our church to be a church that was active in our community. Here’s another tough question. If you stopped praying tomorrow would anyone besides you or those in your immediate circle know, notice or care? You see, sometimes we tend to pray—and live with a limited scope.

So, what do you say—let’s be Christ followers that don’t need a two-dollar bill (or a shirt, or a hat, or a bumper sticker) for people to notice that we belong to Jesus. Let’s let our presence be so impactful that the sweet aroma of Jesus goes wherever we go. Let’s let our words, actions, values and attitudes be so different they are noticed. After all, that is why we are here—to impact our world for His kingdom. Need a little help? All you have to do is ask. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful

Seize the Day

But as for me, I will sing about Your power. Each morning I will sing with joy about Your unfailing love. For You have been my refuge, a place of safety when I am in distress.” Psalm 59:16

After a yearlong silence…they are singing. I stepped out into my backyard to finish my last cup of coffee…well, at least for a couple hours.  When I opened the door, my backyard, and apparently the back yards, and front yard, and side yards of my neighbors were all filled with the sound of cicadas singing their song.  What is a cicada?  Well, it is an insect, and quite honestly, an ugly insect that emerges here in late summer.  Now this isn’t the one that sleeps for 14 or 17 years.  This one emerges every year.

You’ve probably heard the song of the cicadas.  It can be loud, and it can be annoying, unless of course you are a cicada.  You see, they are not just singing, they are singing a love song.  They are letting everyone know that they are up, they are out, and they are ready to prepare for the future.  They have just a few days to sing their love song, find someone to love, start a family and, uh, die. That is one reason they are singing with such gusto. They don’t worry about annoying their neighbors…they are just looking for love.

In a few days, our yards will be a lot quieter.  The party will be over, their love song will be silenced and buried in the ground will be thousands and maybe millions of nymphs waiting for their time to sing.  The beautiful thing about us is that we don’t have to wait 13 years, or 17 years or even one year to sing.  We have the opportunity to sing every day, and it is an opportunity we should embrace.  There is a Latin saying that says “Carpe diem.” Now don’t confuse that with the surgery you have when your wrist hurts.  That is carpal tunnel and has nothing to do with singing…unless it is the blues.

No, carpe diem is a Latin phrase that means “seize the day” …to make the most of every day.  It means that we are to sing our love song clearly and loudly.  “Love song?”, you ask.  Sure.  If we look around, we have so much to sing about.  Breathing makes the list…so does seeing, hearing, and walking.  If you don’t think those things are worth singing about…ask someone who can’t. Oh, and then there are people…people like family, like friends, like the guy who rides on the back of the trash truck and once a week hauls your garbage off.  Ever thank him? Ever include him in your love song, your life song?  If not, why not?  You see the more we are grateful, the more we realize how much we have to sing about.

I know for me when I walk out in the morning and see the sun rising and the moon fading, my mind immediately goes to Creator God, my Dearest Daddy, who thought us worthy of another day.  Oh sure, it’s not gonna be perfect, in fact, it might be difficult, but it is and should be something worth singing about.  A song writer in the Bible put it this way, “But as for me, I will sing about your power. Each morning I will sing with joy about your unfailing love. For you have been my refuge, a place of safety when I am in distress.” Well, put Mister Songwriter, well put.

So, tomorrow, step out and see who is singing in your world…and join them.  Dare to believe that you have a reason to sing…even if your world is less than you wished for. Stop, pause, listen, and believe.  There is Someone who loves you dearly, who wants to walk with you, who believes in you and that is something no circumstances can steal away. So, sing and believe “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, friends, gratitude, life, loving others, missions, Scripture, thankful, travel

Same Words, Different Melody

When He saw the crowds, He had compassion on them.”  Matthew 9:36a

It was familiar but not.  One of the highlights of our trip to England a couple of years ago was the opportunity to experience so many things that were similar to life in America but at the same time different.  After all, we all spoke English, but our English and the English the Brits spoke was just a little different.  More on that in another story.  We both drive cars but on different sides of the road.  They drive on the left (who knows why) and we drive on the right because…we are right.  We like (love) ice in our drinks, and when we ask for ice, they look at you like, “What?” Crisps are potato chips and flats are apartments.  Like I said, we both speak English but not quite the same.

Another thing I enjoyed while I was there was attending worship.  I am a Christian who happens to be a Baptist.  The church I attended there was Baptist too and while it was the same, it was different.  They didn’t have offering plates…they used these little bag things with a pole attached.  It was like a fish net but was made of cloth instead of netting.  One of the things we really loved…and wished we could import…was the fellowship time at the end of the service.  After the last prayer, instead of rushing out the door to the nearest restaurant or appointment, everyone gathered at the back of the worship hall and just visited.  There were some light refreshments but mostly people just talked.  How novel.

One thing that was a little different was the songs that they sang.  While some were familiar there were several that were totally new to us.  So, I was glad when the song person said we were going to sing, “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross.”  That is a wondrous (pun intended) song and one of the older hymns that I enjoy singing.  As the instruments, a piano, flute, and guitar began to play the introduction…something wasn’t quite right…not familiar.  And soon, very soon, I realized that while I knew the words, I certainly wasn’t familiar with the melody. How about that?  Same song, same words, different melody.

So, I jumped right in and worked my way through the unfamiliar melody motivated by the beautiful familiar words.  And even with the different melody, the words carried me into worship.  And just about then it hit me.  In life, church or no church, we can come together and do life.  We may walk or dance to a different tune but still can be carried by the same message.  Wouldn’t it be a better world if we realized that we are all created by the same God and the things that make us different are not a weakness but a strength?  Wouldn’t it be a better world if we were not driven apart by skin color, or our heart language or the social economic station we are in life?  Let me tell you. It.Would.Be.Better.

Of the thousand things that I love about Jesus, one of the best is that He loves people.  Period.  When He lived here, He just saw people as people.  Some might have been more broken than others, but He loved them all the same.  One time a bunch of people met Him on the shore as He got out of a boat.  I’m sure there were all kinds of people there that day but all He saw was people and the Bible just says He had compassion on them.  He loved them.

If you are a Jesus follower, or even if you are not, why not follow the example of this lowly man from an obscure part of the world?  Why not set out today to see people as people…and love them regardless?  Even if they look different, speak different, believe differently or, gulp, vote differently than you…why not just love them?  If you happen to be a Jesus person, well, I’m sure that is something that would make Him smile…and if not well…He probably would smile anyway.  Accepting people as people isn’t easy but with a little help from the One who made us…anything is possible.  In other words, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, priorities, school days, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Be You

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 of 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 a little 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 it 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 current 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