Posted in Family, food, gratitude, love, school days, Scripture

Blueberry Crumble

 “I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, “Look, God’s home is now among His people! He will live with them, and they will be His people. God Himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” Revelation 21:3-4

News flash: I love dessert.  My journey with dessert goes back to my earliest memories.  Whether it was a biscuit with cane syrup and butter or a cake or pie from Momma’s oven—I loved dessert.  Sometimes when there was nothing else, I would grab a teaspoon from the drawer and shovel in a teaspoon of sugar.  Hey, when it’s all you got—it’s all you’ve got.

Two dessert memories spring from my earlier years.  I remember my Momma was having to have surgery when I was about 10 years old.  Two things happened during that time that were monumental.  First, dad took care of us.  Daddy was a bring-home-the-bacon kind of guy and Momma took care of the kids and the house. Well, with her in the hospital and daddy not cooking much—things were a bit different in the kitchen.  I remember one night we were coming home from the hospital and daddy stopped at a place called Milligan’s Burgers and I had my first taste of a fast-food hamburger.  It was kinda like a Krystal Burger and it was a big deal.

Something else that happened during Momma’s hospital stay showed her love for me and solidified my love for desserts.  During her stay, the “three-little-ones” and my daddy made our nightly visit to the hospital.  We walked into her room and there she was in her hospital bed with the tray thing (much like today) beside her bed.  She said, “Dewayne I saved you something from my supper.”  There on her tray in a small bowl was a serving of “blueberry crunch.” It was like a small blueberry, crunch top cobbler and it was delicious.  To this day I never eat anything blueberry with a crunch top without thinking about my Momma.

Years later, my oldest brother and I were visiting another brother out in Texas.  It was a man-trip that included driving all night, camping in the mountains, and eating.  When we got back from the mountain part, we had a last supper of sorts, and his wife made cherry cheesecake.  Well, I thought I had died and gone to heaven and ate a whole lot more than I should have.  After supper we hit the road for the long drive back to Florida and before long, I wished I could die and go to heaven.  All that cherry cheesecake started rolling around in my belly and we had to make more than one stop—and it wasn’t for gas.

Yup…dessert and I go way back. When we go visit someone for supper, I always enjoy the food and fellowship, but I also always hold back a little room for dessert.  I know the best is yet to come.  The story is told of a woman who wanted to be buried with a spoon in her casket.  When asked why, she said, “Well, when I go to someone’s house for supper, the hostess will lean down and say, “Be sure and keep your spoon.”  I always smile when that happens because I know that means that there is dessert and the best is yet to come.”  I like that.

In this crazy, upside down world of racial injustice, violence and what’s sure to be a crazy election time, we probably should all carry a spoon in our pocket.  You ask, “Why should we do that?”  Well, it would remind us that this crazy world is not the end.  It would remind us that for every person who is Christ follower, who can call God Dearest Father, there is more—much more.  That beyond this life is eternal life—that the best is surely yet to come.

I am so grateful for the life that God has given me.  Like a delicious meal filled with good old Southern comfort food, I enjoy each day…mostly.  Honestly though, life is filled too with warts, bumps and more than a few bruises.  But it seems like at the table of this banquet called life, I can hear the Whisperer lean over and say, “Be sure and keep your spoon.”  When that happens, I know He is reminding me that the best is yet come.  As good as life is here, it is going to be a million times better there.  The Bible speaks of heaven as a place of no sickness, no pain, no sorrow, no separation and no more death.  It is like dessert on steroids.  I.Can’t.Wait.

Well, I know I need to keep my love affair with desserts in check.  Both my doctor and my wife Judy remind me of that.  But each time I get to indulge, you can take it to the bank that I’m gonna remember that there is more than this hot mess coming and it is going to be good.  You know, sometimes when Judy is cooking I go in and sneak a taste.  I love to sneak a bite of cookie dough when she isn’t looking.  It’s just a sample of the finished product.  Take time today to crawl up with Jesus and take a rest.  It will just be a taste of what is coming in eternity…just enough to keep you wanting as you wait.  And then, remember this…that the Master Maker of dessert—God—has all this under control.  Yup…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne 

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, life, loving others, priorities, school days, Scripture, thankful

212° Day – Just One More Degree

 “And I have been a constant example of how you can help those in need by working hard. You should remember the words of the Lord Jesus: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’ ” Acts 20:35

We pulled into the parking lot…and there it was. So we were staying with Ellie and James, two of our eight grandkids. Dad and Mom were away and that meant we got to stay and watch over things.

Because of their age, we are past babysitting. Anyway, part of our thing was to make sure they got to school every morning and that is when we saw it. As we pulled into the parking lot, it was very obvious something big was going on. I asked the kids and they didn’t have any idea–and that was part of the big idea!

Here’s what we saw. First, there was a huge banner that said 212° flying about thirty feet in the sky from one of those “lifty” things. Wait…there is more. About two dozen teachers and staff were on the sidewalk that lined the parking lot–all of them dressed in crazy costumes and dancing like no one was watching. A couple of people were on the roof also dressed and acting crazy and hold signs that also said, “212°.” Music was blaring. I was impressed…Ellie was not…James was neutral.

I asked Judy what she thought but neither of us could figure it out. Well, after school we found out. Ellie arrived first and the first thing I asked her was about the 212° thing. Well, first, by now, she was way impressed. It turned out that since the date was February 12, or 2-12, the staff declared it 212° day.  Their theme was no matter what you do in life, you should always go to the next level, take the extra step, going or doing anything just “one more degree” than normal. You see, at 211° water is just hot water but when it reaches 212°–it boils. That one degree makes all the difference in the world.

All day, starting with a high energy crazy assembly in the morning and ending with one in the afternoon, the students were challenged with lessons and activities to go “the extra degree. And what made it so special was the fact that everybody, teachers in their classes and staff, were all in. They showed by their actions just what a great idea this was so naturally most if not all the students jumped in (no pun intended) too. What a stunningly great idea. I loved it. My wife Judy loved it. Ellie loved it. James loved it.

So Grits fans…what is it in your life that you could go “just one more degree” and change your world? God has always been a “one more degree” God and He proves it everyday in every way.  He never settled for–and neither should we. There’s a world out there who needs to know the vastness of God’s love and plain ole hot water just ain’t gonna cut it–we need to go “one more degree.” It can be challenging but with His help…anything is possible! You know it–water boils at 212° and He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, life, love, prayer, Scripture

Unwanted Legacy

 “Do not be deceived: “Bad company corrupts good morals.”

1 Corinthians 15:33

It was an unwanted legacy.  My wife Judy and I have three adult daughters. It is a standing joke in our house that anything that is bad or negative (weight, cholesterol, heart issues, blood pressure, etc) always come from me…the Dad.  The good stuff invariably is attributed to the mom.  Now there can be no doubt that our daughters get their good looks from her, but I think there might be a little prejudice about this other stuff.  I am sure it all can’t possibly come from me.  Or can it?  You see, sometimes I think that I might, accidentally, unintentionally pass on an unwanted legacy.  Let me give you an example.

So one August I went dancing with my worse girlfriend, Corena.  In case you don’t know that was my nickname for the COVID virus.  Yes, I had been vaccinated but regardless she asked if I wanted to dance and apparently, I said yes.  It wasn’t fun.  As COVID cases go, mine wasn’t too bad but it was enough to make me glad when the dance was over. Fortunately, as far as I know, no one, including my wife, came down with it.  After a week or so, it was all over and in the rearview mirror.  No harm, no foul just a bump in the road of life.

Well, later that same fall I started feeling crummy again.  I checked in with my doctor and friend and he quickly diagnosed me with the flu—let’s nickname that “Flo”.  Now this wasn’t the stomach flu…this was the real deal.  I’m not sure if it was Type A or Type B but I do know it was the kind that made you want to die. It, like Corena, lasted long enough for me not to want to have it again and I was glad when she waltzed out of the room. 

Well, it all started on a Friday evening. I developed a cough and just started crashing.  Unfortunately, three of my grandsons were spending the night and not knowing what the deal was…they just cuddled up with “Papa.” As the night went on it was apparent that I had something, but we just didn’t know what.  The next day they all loaded up and went home and I went to bed. At the time I didn’t know what I had but I hated that I might have infected them. My diagnosis didn’t come until Sunday and the bad news came on Monday.

Yup…my daughter called and two of the three had an unexpected, unwanted legacy.  It wasn’t high blood pressure, or cholesterol, or hair loss…it was the flu.  Fortunately, there weren’t any complications, but they sure felt lousy for several days.  I can remember Judy talking on to our daughter on the speaker phone and I could hear one of them coughing and it just broke my heart.  Unexpected, unintentional, or not…I had infected, impacted them.  It was an unexpected, unwanted legacy.

Well, all that thankfully is in the rearview mirror but the whole deal left me with an important lesson.  Whether it is a health deal or some other sort of deal, we need to understand and realize that we are all impacting those around us.  And, often, it is the ones closest to us…the ones we love the most.  Of course, there are plenty of good legacies and for those we can and should be grateful and proud.  But there are others…actions and words that scar or habits that hurt…that we need to arrest so we can avoid passing them down and around.  Perhaps it would be a good idea to take our “legacy temperature” frequently. Perhaps we should ask and honestly answer the question, “Is there something that might be a story, a memory, a habit that might be an unwanted legacy?” If there is, we should take action to stop it or change it.  The good news is rarely is it too late to stop it before there is an unwanted impact or infection.

It’s probably not the best verse for this story but it sure rings true.  Paul, the one who wrote a bunch of the New Testament Bible said, “Do not be deceived: “Bad company corrupts good morals.” Usually, bad company is intentional, and unexpected and unwanted legacies are not…but the outcome can be same.  So, starting today, ask the hard questions and make sure what you are leaving behind is not only worth sharing but a story that would make others smile.  Need a little help?  I know just the one…my Dearest Daddy. He is always there, always willing to help.  He’s got that too. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, life, loving others, school days, Scripture

Poached Eggs? Really?

 “In the same way, let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father.” Matthew 5:16

Poached eggs.  For some reason they have never made it on my list of favorite things. It could be the name.  When something is poached it usually means it was taken in some illegal means.  Well, now that I think of it…maybe the name does fit. To me, unless it was Easter or Momma was making egg salad sandwiches, eggs were cooked in grease not water. I can vaguely remember something about my Momma cracking an egg and dropping it into some water…no wait, maybe that was teabags.  At any rate, the thought of eating an egg that had just been floating around in some water like a jelly fish never, ever, crossed my mind. Grease and eggs…eggs and grease…a match made in heaven.

However, interestingly enough not everyone is like me.  One of my best buds actually likes poached eggs. Of course, you must take in consideration that he also likes sugar on his grits.  But anyway, you read it right–he really likes them.  So, we were having this discussion about how to cook eggs (don’t all guys have those discussions?) and his passion for poached eggs boiled to the top–no pun intended.  So how did he become such a fan of poached eggs?  Well, here’s the deal.

It turns out that his grandmother was a really big fan of poached eggs.  Anytime he (or another family member) went to her house, it was time for poached eggs.  Over and over again, “Hey, you want me to cook you a poached egg?” That standard answer was, “No Grandma, that’s ok.”  Apparently, she was insistent because her standard answer was, “Sure you do, let me whip one up for you.” And, before long, a nice, wiggly kinda cooked egg was sitting before him.  Well, before long he was sorta, kinda brain washed and before long he was hooked.  Now that I think about it, I wonder if he had an aunt that liked sugar on her grits too?  Hmmm.

So, the long and short of it is, all these years later–he still likes poached eggs.  Truth is, if it wasn’t for Grandma’s passion, he wouldn’t be such a fan–but her passion became one of his. That really says a lot about influence and legacy. You see, we are all influencers…whether it is food, habits, or speech.  I know Judy and I don’t press buttons…we mash them.  Wonder where that came from?  We don’t give people a ride to the store, we “carry” them. Oh, and no I don’t eat sugar on my grits…and apparently neither did my relatives.

You know, that passion thing is true about eggs but it is also true about God.  It seems that things that we are passionate about are the things that end up in the lives of those around us…especially those closest to us. The bottom line is what we are passionate about is contagious. The more passionate we are about God the more likely it will be caught by someone else.  It might be our kids, grandkids, or the guy next door but our faith should be highly contagious. Someone once said, “our faith is more easily caught than taught.” There is so much truth in that.

The truth is, I don’t know how you like your eggs–but it just might be similar to the way your momma or daddy liked them.  Let’s be so passionate about God and our faith that someone can’t be around us without being infected–uh, make that affected! Jesus said in His Sermon on the Mount, “In the same way, let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father.” In other words, make sure that what we do and how we do it, reflects favorably on you…but most importantly, on God. I’m sure God is not a fan of poached eggs, but I do know He is a fan of yours.  Don’t worry, He’s got this…poached or not. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Grace, life, Scripture

Your Slip Is Showing

 “A good person produces good things from the treasury of a good heart, and an evil person produces evil things from the treasury of an evil heart. What you say flows from what is in your heart.” Luke 6:45 

Pardon me, but your slip is showing.  Change is everywhere.  I can well remember my Momma getting dressed for church.  In those day she always wore a couple of extra “accessories.”  First, she was a big fan of what I guess was called a girdle.  As I remember, these things were designed to hold things in place around a lady’s waist.  I never saw Momma put one on, but I know she wore one.  How?  When we were sitting in church, I would get bored and start doing “things.”  Things are anything that helped me pass the time.  So, I would poke my Momma in the side, only to find that it was hard as a rock.  As impenetrable as the Great China Wall, there was something firming things up.  I suspect it was “the girdle.”

The other thing was something called a slip.  As best as I could tell it was worn under a lady’s dress to ensure that nothing was seen through.  Now I know more about this because my Momma always wanted to be sure her slip wasn’t showing.  It was important to have the slip shorter than your dress by a couple of inches.  Well, since she couldn’t see behind her (we didn’t have a full-length mirror), she would say, “Dewayne, is my slip showing?”  I would get behind her and give her the report.  I think in our early years of marriage, slips were still in vogue.  I’m pretty sure Judy asked me to give her the “slip” report too.

Nobody, and I mean nobody, wanted to get to church and have their slip showing.  How many times did we get somewhere public and there in front of us would be a lady with her slip showing? Momma would sadly shake her head and say, “Oh my, her slip is showing.  She should have had someone check.”  Well, some time ago slips went out of vogue and so also went the way of the slip report.  No slip…no report.  But the saying still lingers.

When you hear someone say, “Your slip is showing.” it means that something they intended, or perhaps should have intended, to be hidden is there for everyone to see. Well, here’s a news flash.  Someone needs to tell everyone that their “slip” is showing in social media.  Now I am not a social media person.  I use it to post Grits and wish people happy birthday.  But beyond that, it just isn’t my thing.  But even with that limited exposure, and thanks to folks who sometimes tell me what they see, well, there are a lot of “slips” showing.

I’ve almost stopped being shocked at what people write on social media.  It seems people confuse the privacy of their journal with things like Facebook.  Things that should never be written or spoken spew on the pages like a bad case of the stomach flu.  Hurtful, painful words too often fill the screen of our devices.  I remember one time a lady who attended our church at the time wrote some very un-Jesus like words.  I asked her about it, and she said, “Well, I didn’t know the whole world would see them.” What? Duh?”

So, I think when we see someone being unkind and harsh in social media we should just say, “Pardon me, but your slip is showing.”  Now “showing your slip” with unkind words is never right.  You know your Momma taught you, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”  Well, Jesus gives us another perspective and warning.  He tells us that out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.  In other words, what comes out of our mouth is simply revealing what is in our hearts. And if hurtful, unkind, and sometimes untrue words flow from our mouths, or our fingers, according to Jesus, it is just revealing what is in our hearts.

I know, if you aren’t a Jesus follower that doesn’t make a lot of sense but hey, kindness is really in vogue these days even in the secular world.  It might be selective kindness, but it is there.  Now, if you are a Jesus follower, God gives us a word for this kind of practice.  It is called sin.  No matter the circumstances or the way we attempt to justify it, it is sin.  If you feel the need to express your displeasure with someone, why not try praying?  God is always up for an authentic prayer on behalf of someone and you also won’t be surprised to hear “your slip is showing.”

I happen to be one of those people who too often speaks without thinking but I am learning to hit the pause button.  They say the older you get the more you lose your filter. You say things…and write things…that are just not right, or kind or both.  Then, you end up telling God you are sorry and experiencing that regret thing.  Of course, you may not have any remorse…and that is the saddest of all.

So, what do you say?  Let’s start a “Pardon me, your slip is showing” campaign.  It is a gentle way of letting someone know that their communication, whether it be social media or spoken, shall we say, is embarrassing. They may not thank you now but maybe, just maybe, they will later.  And if you are like me and sometimes wrestle with putting your mouth in gear when you shouldn’t, ask God to help.  He will, trust me.  This is a big deal to Him.  The good news is that like everything, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in communication, Family, Holidays, life, love, Mother's Day, New Year, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, wisdom

James

 “The steps of a good man are ordered by the LORD and He delights in his way.  And even if he falls, he will not be utterly cast down because He upholds him with His strong hand.” Psalm 37:23-24

A while back we were down at my daughter’s house who lives near Murray, Kentucky.  They have blessed us with two of our eight grandchildren and if you know anything about grandkids they are just a bunch of fun.  Matt and Jen live in the country near Kentucky Lake and my wife Judy decided we needed to take a walk.  Now if you know Judy you know she believes that people build houses for essentially one reason—to sleep in.  If you aren’t sleeping, you need to be doing something—outside.  Period. 

So, naturally, we took a walk.  I was with my grandson James and we were having an adventure.  Soon we were walking hand in hand.  Now, James, who was six at the time, is a very thoughtful young man.  So, eventually, he asks me, “Papa, what is your real name?”  Now I knew what he was asking but why not have some fun when you can?  So, I told him my name was Papa.  “No” he said firmly, “your real name.”  Well, I gave in and told him it was Dewayne.

He took a shot at pronouncing it and got real close.  I thought that might be the end, but no, the best was yet to come.  He then asked me, “Papa (he didn’t try Dewayne) how old are you?  Well, that was a good question, so I gave him the answer.  “James,” I said, “I am almost 67 years old.” Again, almost without hesitation he said, “Papa, you’re almost dead.” I died laughing—no pun intended.  The Bible mentions something about out of the mouth of babes, truth comes, and I guess truth be known…there’s a lot more days behind me than before me.

Another of my favorite James stories also occurred several years ago. Judy and I drove down to Vienna to Jon and Becca’s house and the Johnson clan drove up from Murray. Everyone was there with the exception of Sarah and Blake who at that time were stationed in Savanah, Georgia.  The occasion for us getting together was my oldest granddaughter’s 15th birthday. So, anyway, it is always more fun when the grandkids are around. If you just wait you will learn something—or at least get a good subject for a sermon or a story. The latter was true in this case!

The family had migrated to the basement and only James and I were left upstairs.  So, I said to James (who was two at the time), “Come on, James, let’s go to the basement.”  We headed toward the stairs and I wisely offered my hand and he even more wisely took it. The wisdom of that decision became apparent quickly. Now James was and is, all boy.  As we headed down the stairs, he didn’t go slowly or carefully—he literally headed down.  I mean, full speed, Katie-bar-the-door down.  As we started down, he performed a combination of running, jumping, and skipping maneuvers.  Stairs were missed but hey, who cares, it was fun.  Let me just say I was glad that I had a good grip on him because if I hadn’t, well, it wouldn’t have been pretty.

We made it somewhat safely to the bottom of the stairs and I had to share the story and we all had a good laugh.  But later, as I pondered how that all played out, it made me appreciate God in a whole new way.  I freshly realized how glad I am that God has a good grip on my hand.  As I charge head first into life, if He didn’t have ahold of me—well, it just wouldn’t be pretty.  But just like I held onto James, so God has ahold of me.  Only eternity will tell how many times He saved me from pain and suffering and the consequences of thousands of bad decisions.

Years ago, while reading the Bible, a passage jumped off the pages and into my life.  It said, “The steps of a good man are ordered by the LORD and He delights in his way.  And even if he falls, he will not be utterly cast down because He upholds him with His strong hand.” That is such powerful truth.  The fact that God directs my steps, that the path He chooses for me is cause for Him to delight and that when I fall, He’s got me…well, that is good, good news.  And the best part is, it is true.

As we leap into 2026, it’s good to know that we can have someone like God holding our hand.  If you are a Jesus follower you know all about that and, if you aren’t yet, He is just waiting for you to take the leap of faith. Why not give Him a try?  God’s not big about denominations or even religion but He is real big about loving you and He wants to walk with you in this New Year.  James didn’t know too much about stairs when he took the plunge, but his Papa did.  James could rest assured that when it came to stairs…Papa had it all under control.  And when it comes to life, we can rest assured that our Dearest Daddy knows all about life and has it all under control.  You might say, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in birthday, Christmas, communication, Family, gratitude, life, love, Scripture, travel

Care Packages

 “Thanks be to God for His inexpressible gift!” 

2 Corinthians 9:15

You never knew when they were coming.  When God and the Air Force decided to send us to Germany—well, it was an exciting adventure that we just thoroughly enjoyed.  But there was a downside…we were a long way from home…a real long way.  We were there from 1977 to 1980, we were young, and we were newlyweds.  Back then there were no cell phones and a landline call to the States was hugely expensive, so that just didn’t happen.  There was no internet.  The world moved at the speed of ship or a plane if you were lucky. The only option was snail mail and well, that could take a while.

Sometimes during the year, our parents would send us a box through the mail.  We called them “care packages.”  The reason was that when one came it was clear that someone back in the United States loved us and they cared—about us.  That was important because as much as we loved being there—there wasn’t home—or anywhere close to home.

There were two times a year that you could almost always count on a care package—that was somewhere around your birthday and then Christmas.  I can still feel the excitement as the days clicked by.  We didn’t know when, but we just knew that my Momma or Judy’s Momma would spend the money and equally as important take the time to say, “I love you.”  We would go to the Post Office every day, looking for the yellow slip in our mailbox that said, “You have a package.”  Instantly it was like Christmas Day.

We would open the box that day—that hour if possible.  There would be wrapped presents and those we would save till the special day.  But there would always be just stuff—candy, trinkets, small things that could only be gotten in America.  Sometimes there were home baked goodies and even if they were stale by then—they were still from home and we gladly ate them.

The care packages were an important link to home for us.  Like I said, it told us that someone was thinking of us—that we had not been forgotten.  What we need to realize is that God is the greatest sender of care packages.  His ultimate gift, His Son, made the way so broken people like us could not only come into the presence of Holy God but that we could call Him Father.  The Jewish people could never understand that.  To them God was a far off, unapproachable deity that they worshiped.  But for Jesus followers—well we know Him as Dearest Daddy and that is not a term of disrespect or looseness—it is a term of His love for us and our love for Him.

Even in the midst of these difficult and confusing days, God has continued to send His care packages along the way.  The Bible tells us this day, and every day, is a day that He made.  He makes the air that we breathe. Everything…everything…that we eat, enjoy or own is a care package from Him.  Every sunrise and sunset, every perfectly different snowflake is a care package from Him.  And every single night that I lay my head down on my pillow in the peace He provides—well, that’s a care package too.

Now to be honest, sometimes we would get things in our care packages from home and wonder “what in the world they were thinking”.  I’m sure Judy and I laughed at more than few.  But do you know what?  Those things were notes of love too.  And the things that God allows and sends our way that we don’t understand—well, each one in its own way is a care package.

Well, the days of care packages are gone for us though we occasionally get one via UPS or Amazon Prime.  But they are rarely the same as days gone by.  But the care packages from God never change—He still sends them—every day—sometimes every minute.  He just loves us so much.  I hope regardless of your circumstances that you will make the choice to trust Him and to wait expectantly for His care packages.  Keep looking, keep waiting because each one tells us, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, communication, Family, fear, Holidays, life, Scripture

Post-Christmas Blues

 “But as it is written: “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.” 1 Corinthians 2:9

There is a blue Christmas and then there are the post-Christmas blues.  Elvis made the first one famous with his smooth, crooning voice.  It spoke of someone who had lost their sweetie and all the lights, music, and decorations in the world couldn’t overcome their blue world.  In reality, there are lots of things that can make Christmas a little blue. But just a glance at the calendar can bring on the post-Christmas blues.  This is a real deal.  It is that feeling that you have when you wake up the day after Christmas and realize the thing you had looked forward to for weeks is fading fast in the rearview mirror.

I was sitting on the couch with one of my grandsons and he made a comment about the fact that he was going to be a sad tomorrow (the day after Christmas).  So, of course, I had to ask him why.  He told me it was because it was going to be such a long time till Christmas came back again.  Well, with all my Papa wisdom, I tried to explain how time seemed to go by faster when you get older, so it seemed that Christmas came all the time.  I’m pretty sure he gave me one of those, “you’ve got to be kidding me” looks. At any rate, I know one thing.  The post-Christmas blues aren’t as severe the older you get.

I can well remember when I was younger and our kids were younger and the hype for Christmas was somewhere off the scale and the day after Christmas was almost tragic.  Well, actually it probably didn’t kick in for a day or two later because you had the excitement of returning all the things that “didn’t work.”  That usually included clothes from loved ones who obviously didn’t know how much you weigh.  But sooner or later, the blues would come.

One of the newest rages in outdoor Christmas decorating says it best.  You have probably seen the giant blowup characters that people put in their yards these days.  There is every kind of blowup you can imagine.  Giant Santas, reindeer, elves, candy canes, snow globes, and everything in between will fill the yards in the neighborhood. But have you ever noticed those same decorations in the daylight?  To save energy and extend the life of the decorations, most of them are on a timer.  During the day what is brightly lit and full of life (ok, air) at night are deflated and lying on the ground. Deflated and flat.

Well, that is sometimes how the post-Christmas blues feel.  But there is an answer. So what if we concentrate on what Christmas is all about anyway?  What if instead of focusing on what is going to the attic, we focus on what doesn’t?  Things like family.  The same family you loved on December 24th or 25th will still need your love in the days that follow.  The same things that made you smile before Christmas may give you a reason to smile later.  The beautiful lights may be gone but what about that beautiful sunset last night? Sounds like a fair trade to me!  In fact, God says in His Book, “But as it is written: “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.” Sounds good to me.

And, if you just happen to be a Jesus follower, well, the same Jesus that you celebrated Christmas Day is still going to be there.  The same church service that made you feel so warm on Christmas Eve will happen in one form or another in the weeks to come.  You see, if you think about it, the parts we love best about Christmas don’t need to go to the attic.  They can live on in our lives today and every day.  It all has to do with perspective. As we journey in the days to come, make it a point to look and to see, for so many of the things all around us seem to say, “Joy to the world, the Lord has some.” Oh, to be sure, there are plenty of things around that can deflate you faster than pulling the plug on one of those yard decorations.  But we get to choose what we focus on.

One year at our Christmas Eve service I said that we get to choose which bells we are going to listen to—the tolling bells of despair or the pealing bells of joy.  While we don’t get to choose our circumstances, we do get to choose how we respond to them. As we leave this Christmas in the rearview mirror, let’s get ready for the hope of what’s ahead.  After all, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, Holidays, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture

Christmas Eve

 “When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” Luke 2:15

What are you doing Christmas Eve?  It really is a great question.  All of my life, Christmas Eve has been as much a celebration as Christmas Day itself.  The family would come over, there would be food, lots of food, Momma and the bigger sisters would gather in one of the bedrooms to wrap presents…lots of presents.  I can remember that the three youngest of Momma and Daddy’s eight, dubbed the three little ones, would anxiously wait outside that bedroom door dying to see the name tags on the boxes.  Would it be mine?

As we grew older things changed some but not really.  I think as we became non-believers some of the excitement faded, but it was still special, it was still family, it was still Christmas Eve.  One thing that was not part of our Christmas Eve celebration was church.  I think, though I am not sure, that Baptist Jesus followers didn’t do the church thing on Christmas Eve.  I mean it was ok because we made up for it on Sunday nights and Wednesday nights.  While the Lutherans, Methodists, and Catholics were home watching Bonanza and the Wonderful World of Disney…we had to go to church.  So, it probably worked out okay. I’m sure it didn’t matter to God either way.

Back in 1986, I had the privilege of serving at the First Baptist Church of Cobden, Illinois.  After I had been there a few years I got the crazy idea of having a Christmas Eve Service.  No churches in town were doing one, at least not Protestant ones, and it just seemed like a good idea.  I mean, the shepherds, said, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” And, hey, if they went to see Jesus…we should go to worship Jesus!

I remember when I shared my idea with my friends who happened to be deacons, they were at least partially sure I had sprung a leak somewhere.  We batted it around for a few hours (just kidding, a few minutes) and they agreed to give it a try.  Some said, “Now pastor, don’t be surprised if nobody comes.”  Well, we were all surprised not because no one came, but it seemed everyone came.

From the first Christmas Eve the building was full or almostly full every year.  Many wonderful traditions were born during those years…traditions involving family and friends.  It was pretty wonderful.  I’ve been gone from Cobden for twenty-five years now and unless something has changed, they still gather on Christmas Eve to celebrate the birth of Redemption’s Child.  I suppose my friend Austin is still playing, “Mary Did You Know” on his old six string.

Well, in 2000, God thought it was time for a new chapter, so we moved to Harrisburg to pastor at Dorrisville Baptist Church.  Well, guess what?  They didn’t have a Christmas Eve service either.  Again, I got this crazy idea.  Why not start one here too?  At that time, I believe there was not a Baptist doing a Christmas Eve service so it was definitely, shall we say, innovative.  Well, I talked to my friends who happened to be deacons, they were at least partially sure I had sprung a leak somewhere.  We batted it around for a few hours (just kidding, only one or two) and they agreed to give it a try.  The general consensus was that it probably wouldn’t work.  The music guy said he could only do it if we did it at 5pm…so 5pm it was.

Well, guess what?  Yup, from the first service, it was a full or almost full house.  We  sang carols, read the Bible, lit candles, and softly sang Silent Night.  I think some people came to see if I could really preach about 15 minutes.  Smile. But the bottom line is that it became a favorite service of most of our members.  Families come and pack a row of chairs or two.  It is genuinely, sincerely, very special.  At least one time, it was snowing to beat the band with four or five inches on the ground by the time our service started.  I thought, “Surely they won’t come out in this.”  But I was wrong…they came.

So, what are you doing Christmas Eve?  Can I encourage you to find a service somewhere and attend?  Who knows, it might be what you have been looking for at Christmas.  That night, that Silent Night, I believe we will take home a special gift.  It will be the gift of a promise kept…that a Child, Jesus was born and because of that, we have the assurance that no matter what, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, love, loving others, Military memories, Scripture

I Love Christmas

 “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16

I’ve said it before, I’ve written it before, but I’ll say it again, I’ll write it again.  Once again, it is Christmas time.  I have celebrated Christmas seventy-one times. Granted I don’t remember some of the early ones and I guess to be honest I don’t remember a lot of the other ones either, but I remember enough to know that each one was special.  When I was growing up it was all about family, food and presents.  My Momma and Daddy did such an incredible job of making sure each Christmas was electric with excitement.  While there are several special memories, some were just bigger than others.  One particular Christmas, my sister had asked for a chord organ.  Now that was a pretty big gift and yet I can remember lying in bed…all three of us little ones in one bed for that special night, and hearing through the thin walls the magical sounds of that organ.  Santa had come.

The next morning, with a house filled with family, we would celebrate with gifts, some large, some small, but all given and wrapped with love.  Later would come a big meal and prayers of gratitude for a good God who loved us and blessed us.  Many more Christmas Eves have come and gone.  Some were challenging, like when my Daddy was still recovering from a heart attack, some were much smaller like when it was just my wife Judy and me sitting in a small village in Germany serving our country.  The crowd was smaller, but the love was just as big.

Later, we had children and Christmas began to take on a whole new dimension. Judy and I became more the giver than the receiver.  We had the opportunity to do for them like my parents had done for me.  We watched with joy as their faces lit up with happiness as each gift was unwrapped.  Clothes and toys with an occasional bike or hamster thrown in the mix are all part of the memory.  But through it all, one thing remained a constant…love…love for each other and experiencing the love of a God who won’t, who can’t stop…loving.

Now, well, the Christmas journey continues.  Our children have grown up and all three of them have kids of their own and Christmas isn’t less…it is more.  At some point and despite busy schedules, we will get together and love, and celebrate and be thankful for each other and for the One who makes it possible.  In my experiences of Christmas, I have discovered that it isn’t the circumstances that make a Christmas Eve or Christmas morning special or not.  It is not the bounty of presents or the location, no, it is love.  My favorite Christmas verse from the Bible says it all, “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” Now that is a Christmas verse.

God doesn’t want anyone to miss Christmas with Him and that is why He threw open the front door and hung out the welcome sign.  He simply says, “Ya’ll come home for Christmas.” No matter who, no matter what, you are welcome home for Christmas.  I know growing up things weren’t always perfect in the Taylor tribe but for the most part we did manage to love each other and I’m glad we did.  So, Merry Christmas.  Remember that He chose to love us and because of that maybe, just maybe, we can choose to do the same for those around us.  If you listen carefully this Christmas season, you may just hear the Whisperer whisper, “Merry Christmas, I love you, come on home for Christmas.  I’ve got this.”    Bro. Dewayne