Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, travel

The End Isn’t the End

The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display his craftsmanship.” Psalm 19:1

It seemed like the end of the road…but it wasn’t.  My wife Judy and I live in Southern Illinois.  I know, when you think of Illinois you think about Abraham Lincoln and Chicago but believe me there is a whole lot more to Illinois than that.  The part of Illinois that we call home is south, way south.  Our nook and cranny of Illinois, which is right at the Shawnee National Forest, is crammed full of natural beauty.  Lush forests, rock bluffs, waterfalls, and hiking trails galore are but a few of our treasures.

Often Judy and I will get in our car and just drive. One of our favorite drives takes us up to U.S. Highway 1 heading east.  The area is pure country with plenty of green scenery and rolling hills.  The road ends in a small town called Cave-In-Rock.  There are a few stores, a couple of restaurants and, you guessed it, a large cave in a rock.  The story goes that the cave was used by river pirates.  Fess Parker’s movie, “The River Pirates” was filmed there.  It is worth seeing.  But there is one more thing that grabs my attention.

You see, U.S. Highway 1 ends at Cave-In-Rock and it ends by running right into the Ohio River.  You are traveling down on this really, nice road and all of a sudden…boom…you’re done…no more road.  The end.  But guess what?  It’s not really the end because right there in town where the road ends, is an old-fashioned, but fully functioning, ferry.  It is provided free of charge for those who need to keep going to the other side…to Kentucky. It turns out, about every 15 or 20 minutes the ferry makes a run carrying people to the other side.  So, what you thought was the end…wasn’t.

A while back I did a funeral for a real nice lady and told the crowd gathered there that it seems when we go to cemeteries that all the headstones seem to say, “The end” but I told them that isn’t necessarily so.  I told them that the end didn’t have to be the end, but rather a new beginning. I also told them about how a man, a man we shouldn’t know anything about, changed everything by dying and then coming back to life.  I told them that He promised that if we would believe in Him and what He did, that He would give us life eternal, too. That means that death isn’t a dead end, but a way for us to get from here, where things are broken, to a place called heaven where they aren’t.

I know, I know.  Sounds a little old fashioned?  Sounds a little archaic? But maybe it should sound like something else…like hopeful.  Maybe, just maybe it is worth checking out.  Some people think things like God, heaven and hope are just crutches to lean on, but I think something different.  I think they are a reality…something that each of us need to investigate.  When I look around at all this beauty in my part of the world, I just get the sneaking suspicion that it is too grand to be an accident. When I look up and see a zillion stars, they all seem to be saying, “Hey, God created us.” Yup, I have a feeling that it was created by Someone.  Amazingly a whole chunk of the world agrees.

I hope this Grits might at least stir your interest in the hope that Jesus can give.  I mean it is worth checking out since 100% of us are going to come to an end out there somewhere.  Why not check it out?  God can handle our doubts and accusations so don’t worry about offending Him.  Go to Him with your questions and listen carefully.  You might just hear a gentle whisper as He tells you He loves you and yes, “He’s got this.”         Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Memorial Day, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials, USA

Freedom

Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people He has chosen as His own inheritance.” Psalm 33:12

I know Memorial Day is the in rearview mirror but this needs to be said and read…again.  It all started one Thursday night and we had gone to one of our favorite eating places in Marion…a town not far from where we live. We did our Sam’s Club thing and then decided to call it a night. So, we headed for 217 back in Harrisburg.  As we were driving down the highway, on a whim, we made a right turn at a familiar intersection.  We had driven by it so many times but this time we turned.

The sign said it went to Creal Springs, but I found out it went somewhere else—to something else.  We were cruising along just enjoying the ride when I thought I saw one of those “brown signs.”  These signs usually indicate a place of special interest.  As I went by, I thought I saw the words cemetery and Revolutionary War. I went down the road a ways and then told Judy I saw a sign for a cemetery…perhaps an old one.  I turned around.

Back down the road, there was indeed a sign. We pulled off the road and it said, “Ellis Family Cemetery and Revolutionary War gravesite.  I really couldn’t believe that it was true.  I mean, out East you would find those kinds of gravesites everywhere, but here in Southern Illinois?  We decided we had to investigate.  It turned out there was no road, just a driveway.  Well, after trying to decide if we were going to get shot for trespassing, we decided to give it a try.  As it turned out, the driveway went between two houses which led to a pasture.  Way at the back of the pasture we could see a small cemetery.  There wasn’t a road, but I could see where a car had gone before, so off we went.

When we got there, we found the gravesite of John Ellis.  He was born in 1754 and died in 1850.  He lived for 96 years, which is incredible, but even more amazing…he fought in the American Revolutionary War.  He had two monuments.  One was much newer, one much older.  The older one simply said, “For Military Merit” and someone had painted his name on it.  I was overwhelmed.  Here in Southern Illinois was the grave of a man, a hero, who fought for the birth of our country.

This man was there, on the battlefield, when a group of men and women declared our freedom from England.  This.man.was.there.  He put it all on the line for a cause greater than himself.  And for the last 247 years that is what freedom loving American heroes have done.  Through conflicts great and small they have served, they have bled, and many have died.  I value the saying, “All gave some, some gave all.” I value the sacrifice of all these freedom fighters through the centuries and decades.  I also love what they fought for.

I know these are difficult times for our nation, but we have seen difficult times before. At his first inauguration on March 4, 1933, Franklin Roosevelt said this. “This is preeminently the time to speak the truth, the whole truth, frankly and boldly. Nor need we shrink from honestly facing conditions in our country today. This great Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive, and will prosper. So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.” Don’t rush past those words.  They are powerful and they are worth believing.

I believe in this country.  I believe that even with all its warts and imperfections it is still the best country in the world.  Having visited well over twenty other countries, I’ve seen the competition and America wins hands down.  I spent an Independence Day in basic training for the Air Force in 1972. Lights-out was about 8:00 pm and I was lying in my bunk when the fireworks starting going off.  I crept out of bed and went to the window and watched as the fireworks exploded in the Texas sky.  Two emotions came over me.  One, I missed family.  Somewhere in Florida they were celebrating freedom. The other though, was more personal.  I was becoming an American airman serving my country.  I was one of her defenders and I was proud…proud to serve and proud to be an American.

The Book says, “Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people He has chosen as His own inheritance.”  That is so true.  As a nation when we choose God, when we choose to make Him ours, we do better.  When we don’t, we don’t.  It is just that simple.  The second part of that verse is equally important. God is still inviting, calling people to be His.  Skin color doesn’t matter, economic status doesn’t matter, creed doesn’t matter.  He simply invites every man, woman, and child to be His.  The invitation is open, and the decision is personal…individual.

So, God bless America.  If you are a God follower, a God believer, why not start today with a whispered prayer of thanks for this great country.  And then, pause, be still and listen for surely the Whisperer will whisper.  He may speak through His Word, He may speak through another person, or a beautiful sunrise or sunset.  Regardless, He will whisper, “You can rest in Me.  I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Stinking Rock

The Lord God is my strength, and He has made my feet like hinds’ feet, and makes me walk on my high places.” Habakkuk 3:19

Ok…it just hurt. I grew up down South and there and especially then things were just a bit different.  Back in those days before Nintendo and Game Boys, we played…I mean we just played.  Even though we had television, and yes, it was black and white, it was rarely on…especially during the day.  When school was over for the day, we would go outside and run the neighborhood and…the woods.

We lived in a small country neighborhood that was surrounded by woods.  We played army, built forts, and played every game you could imagine.  We had a large Chinaberry tree in our backyard, and we would load our pockets with the small berries and then chase one another trying our best to “ping” someone with the berries. As you can imagine we ran…a lot. And the best running shoes then were no shoes at all.  We ran and played barefoot most of the time.  There were times of regret, like when we would stub our toe on a big old pine root, but most of the time we did just fine.  Of course, all that “barefoot-ness” toughened our feet up till the soles were leather tough.

Well, things change, and we all grew up and started wearing shoes.  With the shoes, we lost our toughness but not our love to occasionally go barefoot.  There’s still just something about the feel of grass and soft sand on the bottom of your foot.  Yup…what good memories…that is until I stepped on a stupid rock. It all started when I went outside early in the morning, as the sun was still yawning, to have a cup of coffee with Judy.  Of course, I wasn’t wearing shoes.  We have a paved driveway and patio so no deal…right? Not so fast.

I walked out to the patio, visited for a while, and then decided it was time to head back into the house to get ready for the day.  Our patio is a foot or so higher than our driveway and we have a small step there to make things easier.  So, I stepped down onto the step and then on down to the driveway.  Not thinking, nor thinking to look, right where I stepped was a nice, small rock.  Now this wasn’t the smooth stone kind of rock but the kind that you find in an unpaved alley.  Anyway, I stepped, and stepped hard and landed right on that stinking rock.  Ouch.

As things would happen, it was in the middle of my heel, and it just hurt.  I muttered something about stupid rocks, picked the rock up and chucked it back into the alley where it belonged.  It really was a “no harm, no foul” deal.  I mean, it wasn’t like it hurt all day and it wasn’t like I had to go to the doctor, but for those few moments…it just hurt and for those few moments…I was mad at the rock. Mad.At.The.Rock.

Wait…later I decided there was something wrong with that.  I am sure that rock didn’t wake up that morning (do rocks wakeup?) and decide to be in the exact wrong spot.  In fact, I am sure the rock had nothing to do with it at all. I am sure that I am the one who chose not to wear shoes that morning, who didn’t look to see if there was a rock in the way, and who wasted my emotional energy by getting mad at a rock.  It sounds like this one is on me.

The bottom line is when you do life, you will occasionally step on a rock, and it may cause some pain.  But like the Disney song says, maybe we should just, “let it go.” The Bible gives us some even greater counsel.  It says that we are to remember that God is our strength, and we should ask Him to guide our feet as sure as a mountain deer.  In other words,…to help us watch where we step…whether it is off our patio or into a questionable decision.

Well, I know, and you know it wasn’t the rock’s fault that day and really, in the scope of things, it wasn’t mine either. It was just one of those things.  Oh, and this morning, I went out barefoot again but before I stepped off the patio, I looked and that means, I may have learned and that is always valuable.  So be sure and look before you step and remember, even if things don’t go exactly like you plan today…He’s still got this. Bro. Dewayne

Oh wait…I thought that was the end of the story, but it wasn’t.  So, the same day I wrote this, at lunch I went home to eat and kicked my shoes off.  As I was walking across the kitchen floor, I stepped on a…get ready…rock.  Yup, right there in the kitchen.  I guess you just never know.

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Military memories, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God

War of 1812

Dear friends, don’t overlook this one fact: With the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day.” 2 Peter 3:8

Warning. Thought provoking story ahead. It was the strangest library you could imagine.  A while back a friend told me about a cemetery that had some very old graves. Now I know you are wondering, “What does a cemetery have to do with a library?”  And the answer is volumes and volumes.  First, lest you think me strange, I love history and especially American and local history.  Second, I love stories. This particular cemetery had some of both.

So, over the river and through the woods Judy and I went till we came to Lavender Cemetery Lane.  A quick right off Highway 34 and about half a mile down the lane and there it was—Lavender Cemetery.  There were two sections.  The first section was much older than the second, but both were filled with stories.  And, like I said, I love stories.

First was my friend’s grandfather.  I had already learned that he was quite the character.  He actually ran with the infamous Charlie Berger gang.  He did some time in the big house and died when he was only 48—though not from a bank heist or anything like that. I was fascinated.  Then we started looking around and it was amazing.  We found the grave of a veteran from the War of 1812.  Can you believe that?  Then we found families who had lost not one, not two but three children.  It was in the days before there were antibiotics.  Can you imagine how difficult that was?

There were many other veterans buried there.  There was a Vietnam veteran who had obtained the highest enlisted rank in the Air Force, Chief Master Sergeant and had earned a Bronze Star for Valor in the war.  Next to him was a veteran of the Korean War.  He had died aboard the USS Saris.  During a typhoon in Korean waters a naval mine broke loose and hit the ship and it sank in 20 minutes.  Four men died and one of them found his way back home to Lavender cemetery.  But wait, there is more.  World War II veterans were scattered throughout as well as World War I. There were even civil war veterans buried there.  Almost side by side, a young soldier from Mississippi was laid to rest by a soldier from the north.  On and on, old, barely readable stones told stories of valor and courage.

There were headstones with beautiful etchings of home places and poems about life and death.  Scratched into a large rock, one read, “My friends, here lies my body beneath the sod but my soul has gone home to God.”  In this obscure country cemetery, I saw a headstone for two people I know.  The dates of the death yet to be filled in—their stories still being written. Many of the headstones have been worn smooth by time.  Like their headstones, so many of their stories have faded into obscurity. But each one…each one…wrote a story that touched people and perhaps changed lives.

That afternoon at about 5:30 pm I found myself face to face with my own mortality.  My time, your time is limited.  The story will come to an end one day for each of us.  The question is this, “What kind of story are we writing?”  What story will be told at the service given to remember us? What story will be told when we stand before our creator either as His child or one who said no?  What kind of story?

Well, the good news is, there is still time to write.  There is still time to make sure your story is a story worth celebrating.  Peter tells us in the Bible that a thousand years is like a day and a day is like a thousand years.  That is a big truth.  We get the first part easily but don’t miss the second. A day is like a thousand years. That seems to say that even if we are in the second half of our life, or later, there is time. If there’s more in the rearview mirror than the windshield, it’s not too late. God can take those limited days and make it like a thousand years—plenty of time to start writing a new story.  So why not start now.  Right now.

Forget the regrets.  Forget the unwise choices. Forgive the broken promises just like God forgave you.  It’s in the Book.  Learn from each one but then leave the past in the past.  Paul did…check out Philippians 4:13…forgetting what is behind and reaching forward to the future in Christ, I press on.  Good, good advice. I don’t know what’s next in this crazy world, but do I know I am not afraid.  I know my Father is in control.  I know that the foreseeable future is going to be different. But I also know I want the story about how I handled it all… to be that I trusted Him to handle it.  He’s trustworthy.  I can lay my head on my pillow tonight and rest in Him.  So, pleasant dreams. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, gratitude, life, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Nip it in the Bud

Everyone who commits sin practices lawlessness; and sin is lawlessness.” 1 John 3:4

Leave it to Barney.  Some of you might remember Barney Fife from the old television show, “The Andy Griffith Show.” He was one of the iconic characters and played the town deputy under Sheriff Andy Taylor.  Barney was a little off-center most of the time.  One of my favorite memories was that they only trusted him with one bullet, and he had to keep it in his pocket. He may have been a bit off-center but every once-on-a-while he would come up with something insightful.  One of those was his saying that we should “nip it, nip it in the bud.”

He knew (at least every once in a while) that an ounce of prevention was better than a pound of cure. Now he didn’t always follow his own good advice but who does? Truth is we would all be better off we did, “nip it, nip it in the bud.”  The other day I went to the skin doctor for my semi-annual skin check.  Twice a year I have them look and make sure something isn’t growing on my skin that shouldn’t be. Some of that skin stuff can get pretty nasty.  Like I’ve said before I’m ok with dying…I just don’t want to die stupid.

So usually, I am an A+ patient. Besides the usual assortment of old people stuff, she always tells me I have good skin.  Well, that didn’t quite happen this time. As she checked my forehead, she found two spots that were kinda rough and she said, “Dewayne, these might be pre-cancers so it would be best if we burned them off.”  So, she wasn’t sure if they were but, in her opinion, it was better to be safe than sorry—and I agreed with her.  Let’s “nip it, nip it in the bud”. So, she got out her handy burner-off thing and just like that they were frozen.

“Wait,” you say, “I thought you she was burning them off?”  Yup that’s right but she burns them off by hitting them with something so cold it literally burns them off.  Ever heard of, “freezer burn?”  Same sort of idea.  Anyway, it was all over after a little bit of stinging and a few days of everyone asking, “What happened to your forehead?”  And guess what?  Because we nipped it in the bud, I don’t have to worry about it turning into something a little nastier.

This “nip it, nip it in the bud” thing is good advice. Imagine how many regrets a little nipping could save us! And what about when we nip a “pre-sin” in the bud before it becomes a disaster in our lives? Yup, the more I think about it the more I am sure we owe old Barney a debt of gratitude.  So, let me suggest a semi-annual visit to the skin doctor and a daily visit with the Great Physician just to check and see if there needs to be a little nipping on those nasty “pre-sins.” It might sting a little but hey, don’t worry, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Ignored

Get up,” Jesus told him, “pick up your mat and walk.” Instantly the man got well, picked up his mat, and started to walk. John 5:8-9

No matter how hard I tried…he ignored me.  So, I am a   walker…sometimes more consistent than others but generally I walk several days a week.  The habit person in me likes the consistency of taking the same route over and over.  The adventure person in me likes to vary the routes that I take.  The bottom line…it is a coin toss every time I walk.  Regardless of which route I take; I see him frequently.

Who is he?  He is one of the homeless guys here in our small town.  Actually, I am only assuming he is homeless.  Like I said, frequently and no matter how early, I see him riding his bike, pushing his bike, and sitting somewhere, anywhere holding onto his bike. When I stroll by, I try to be friendly.  I walk by and give him a wave and a smile with a “good morning,” attached. He doesn’t respond.  If you remember the story of Brier Rabbit and Tar Baby, you know when Tar Baby didn’t respond to Brier Rabbit—he got more than a little upset.  Well, I think Brier Rabbit and I might be distant cousins.  My thought was, “What’s up with this?  Why is he ignoring me?”

Well, there were many attempts after that attempt, and it wasn’t just with him.  I would try to wave, be friendly, and give a “Good morning” if we were in voice range.  Almost without exception…there was nothing just a blank stare.  Well, earlier this week it was the same song, same verse but this time something occurred to me…or more accurately maybe Someone spoke to me.  The thought, the inner voice was this, “Dewayne, he is ignoring you because that is all he knows.”  A bell went off in my head and in my heart.

I realized in that moment that to most people, these folks who live in the streets are ignored because they become invisible. Most people don’t even see them, much less acknowledge them.  And, I think, that once you have been ignored for so long…when you are invisible to the world around you…you stop seeing and feeling too. It becomes easy to just look, to stare until the world around disappears.  And, you need to know, that it isn’t always homeless people…it can be just everyday walk-around people who have been bruised and hurt one too many times.  They go to work, they function, but in reality, they stare into nothingness just trying to get by.

What are we to do?  Well, first we don’t stop trying to reach out and touch those around us.  Jesus was so good at seeing the invisible and loving the unlovable and do you know what?  He never gave up.  A story is told about a lame man who laid by a pool forever…or, at least, it seemed forever…38 years to be exact.  The rumor was if you could be the first in the pool when the waters stirred, you would be healed.  It wasn’t true and it really didn’t matter because he could never be first.  And then…Jesus showed up.

Jesus saw him, spoke to him, and asked this question, “Do you want to be well?”  The man gave him the story about him and the waters.  Jesus didn’t quit.  He just said, “Pick up your mat and walk.”  Well, the guy took the gamble, obeyed, and…he was healed…just like that.  Amazing.  Thirty-eight years of suffering ended abruptly. I guess we can’t offer the broken around us that kind of deal, but we can see, we can speak, and we can pray and when we do that…who knows what God will do?

Let me encourage you…and me for that matter…to start seeing again, to start loving again, to start making a difference, no matter how small, again.  If you see someone obviously broken and you are a Jesus follower, just remember how broken you were when you met the Healer and He whispered, “I love you…I forgive you.” And as you remember, take that moment to reach out and let that person know how much God loves them and longs to forgive them. Oh, and let them also know that “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel

Rocks and Fossils

For it is God who is working in you both to will and to work according to His good purpose.” Philippines 2:13

They were everywhere but nowhere to be found.  A couple of months ago, Judy and I went to a pastor’s conference over in North Carolina.  It’s just a little far to travel in one day, so we always choose to stay a night on the road and one of our favorite spots is Cookeville, Tennessee.  It is a little over an hour outside Nashville and has several good places to eat and stay.  We usually stay at an Airbnb since it provides a little more space and sometimes it offers a little bit more. 

This find was Judy’s and that probably explains why we spent more than we normally do.  The place was located on a small scenic river and featured two waterfalls within a hundred yards of the property.  One was bigger and one was smaller—both were awesome. The smaller one had several rock features but only fell about ten feet.  Its big brother, on the other hand, fell about fifty feet and was massive.  It’s funny because they both had the same amount of water to work with but, you know, the farther the water falls the more impressive it seems.

Because of the falls and because the area around the river was rocky, the ground was covered with tons (both literally and figuratively) of small rocks.  There were all shapes, many colors, and sizes.  Most were fist-size or smaller but here is the best part.  Scattered around and in all the rocks were a heavy sprinkling of fossils.  Most were of ancient water plants that had become trapped in the sediment and slowly, over time, became fossilized.  There were all kinds, and since they were so unique—I just had to have some.  So, Judy and I went hunting.

From the get-go, it seemed she was better at it than me and soon she was shouting, “Here’s one, here’s another.” Well, that caused me to look harder than ever.  Well, before long, we both had plenty, and they are now on display in my office at home.  But here’s what is amazing and what prompted this short story with a big truth.  The fact is they were everywhere but there were so many rocks to poke through it was just hard to find them.  They were there but they were well camouflaged…looking a lot like their rock brothers and sisters.  Making it even harder was the fact that one side of a rock might have a cool fossil and the other—nothing.  The only choice was to keep looking and keep turning over as many stones as possible.

Isn’t that just like life? We look for this or that and sometimes we become frustrated and give up and behold—it was right in front of our face the entire time.  That is never truer than with God things.  We think God has turned off the blessing faucet when the truth is we just aren’t looking close enough…hard enough…and we give up.  Well, let me encourage you to keep flipping those rocks over because you never know what might be on the other side.

Sometimes the answer to our prayer or our miracle is just one stone flip away. God loves to bless His children so don’t give up and don’t be surprised if you find yourself staring a blessing in the face. Paul wrote, “For it is God who is working in you both to will and to work according to His good purpose.” In other words, don’t give up…He’s working, and He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, gratitude, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Tic-Toc

Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the Word of God.    Romans 10:17

It was one of those defining moments.  We have lots of clocks in our home.  Now I’m speaking of the clocks that you need to wind, and they go “tic-toc-tic-toc.”  I have always prided myself on my good eyesight and hearing.  So, when I turned 40 it was bye-bye good eyesight and hello reading glasses.  About five years ago, it was my hearing’s turn.

I enjoy sitting in our house and listening to our clocks go tic-toc.  I know, I don’t get out much–no pun intended. I would distinctly hear each clock ticking in the room.  Over here was the grandfather clock, over there was the regulator and over there was the mickey mouse clock–just kidding.  Then one day it happened.  I was a bit sleepy, so I leaned my head to one side using my right hand to cover my right ear and bam.  No more clocks ticking.  “What is wrong with the clocks?” I said.  Uh, it wasn’t the clocks.

Well, I got up and stuck my finger in my right ear and suddenly I felt like I was living Simon and Garfunkel’s song, “The Sounds of Silence.”  So, I stuck my finger in my left ear and things were ticking just fine.  I’m no ear doctor and that was not a definitive test by I discovered something wasn’t working in my left ear.  Can someone say, “What did you say?”

Yup, that’s right.  So, I made an appointment with an ear doctor, and he confirmed what I knew.  I had significant hearing loss in my left ear but fortunately just a little in my right. I’m sure I know what caused it.  I cut firewood every weekend for about 15 years without ear protection.  Not a good idea.

Here is the interesting part of the story.  In what is now officially known as my “bad” ear, I am almost totally deaf to certain frequencies but can hear others perfectly fine.  Most music is ok, but when it comes to clocks ticking–nothing.  I can put my ear up to the clock and plug my good ear “old faithful” and I can’t hear a thing.  Amazingly that is also true with my wife’s voice.  How odd.

Well, fortunately, no hearing aids yet, but there are a few “whats” and “what did you say.” If I look at you funny when we are speaking, it probably means that your voice is the same frequency of a ticking clock.  Since hearing clocks tick is not a life essential, I’m good. But then what about other things?  What about other frequencies?

I wonder sometimes if God’s voice is like the ticking clock?  I wonder if He speaks and all I get is “the sounds of silence?”  Of course, the worst fear is what if I have developed selective hearing.  I’m sure Judy’s voice is not the frequency of a ticking clock but strangely she speaks, and sometimes I don’t hear.  Or better put–I don’t listen.

I’m not the only man to think that–I’m just the only one crazy enough to write it down.  But this God thing—now that’s another matter. What if He speaks and I don’t listen? If there is one voice, I need to hear–it is His.  I mean missing Judy’s voice might mean missing supper.  Missing God’s voice can mean consequences–big consequences.  Fortunately, God does have an incredible hearing aid and it comes in the form of His Word.

Romans 10:17 says “Faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God.”  You see, faith is essential every day, but especially these days. We gain faith not just from hearing but hearing the Word of God.  Here’s the big part–hearing isn’t hearing–it is comprehending.  Our faith grows when we READ the Word, comprehend the Word and apply the Word.  It’s not about ears, it is about hearts.  Receiving Hearts. Our hearts.

So, if you can’t hear your clock ticking, go see the tic-tic ear doc.  But in this crazy busy world if you are having trouble hearing God, get alone, get quiet, and start reading the Word.  Take your time, savor every word of the Word, and don’t be surprised as you find yourself resting in Him.  Don’t be surprised when you find your believing–really believing, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Here Comes Niagara Falls

The Lord Himself watches over you! The Lord stands beside you as your protective shade.” Psalm 121:5

I had always wanted to see it—but not here and not then. So, the other night we had one of those “Oh no” moments. Part of the Taylor tribe that normally lives somewhere else was staying with us.  They have three boys who are absolutely 100% all boys.  Accordingly, it is important, very important, that they shower every night.  So, my wife Judy, AKA MaMa, gave them their marching orders, “Hit the shower.”

Slowly and somewhat reluctantly, they did. Well, Judy and I were upstairs and suddenly there came a very loud commotion from downstairs.  Above the din we heard the voice of grandson number 2 hollering, “MaMa, come downstairs NOW!” Well, she scurried down the stairs and I was right behind her.  What was the cause of the commotion?  Niagara Falls had come to Southern Illinois—217 W. Poplar Street to be exact.  When we arrived downstairs, from the light fixture in her home office, water was pouring. Now it wasn’t dripping, it wasn’t sprinkling, it was pouring.

As it turned out it wasn’t a broken pipe—it was grandson number 1 who had forgotten to put the shower curtain inside the shower. So, if you forget to put the shower curtain inside the shower, all the water runs down the shower curtain and straight on the floor and from there—right through the ceiling and into MaMa’s office. Holy Moley.  Now to add to this story, this all happened on Saturday night at 9:00 pm.  You know, the night before the Papa preacher is supposed to preach on Sunday morning.  You know, 9:00 pm when people are supposed to be winding down and not winding up.

Well, because of the quick thinking of the father of grandson 1 and 2, we were able to contain the water pretty quickly.  It took several dozen towels (ok, that’s an exaggeration) but it was several and the quick removal of a rug and the moving of a desk.  Well, in a matter of minutes, the worst was over except I had some confessing to do to my Dearest Daddy about patience and not losing “it.”  But wait, there is a pretty bow in this story.

You see, for whatever reason, the water only came through the ceiling where the fan and light were located.  The ceiling was not hurt at all—not a bit.  And, believe it or not, even with all the water flowing in and through it, the light and fan still worked.  Can someone say, “God moment?”  I think it was another of those times when God was just watching over us.  In this case we didn’t avoid the commotion, but we did avoid the catastrophe.

Tucked away in the Psalms is this verse, “The Lord himself watches over you! The Lord stands beside you as your protective shade.” I believe that is absolutely true and it is true even if the commotion grows into a catastrophe!  No matter what, He watches and as always, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Gratitude: Leader of the Pack

I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little. For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:12-13

I was the leader of the pack.  When I was growing up in the sixties things were just a little bit different.  In my school there were a zillion kids and in my church youth group I was one or two years older than most of the other kids.  That became important when I turned sixteen and was eligible to get a driver’s license.  I remember I got my license before I attended driver’s education and I got a car before anyone else at church.  I was the leader of the pack.

Today, whenever I drive by the local school and look in the parking lot I am always saddened.  The lot is filled with fancy cars and trucks the likes that was never seen in my 1970 world.  A few kids did have nice cars but most were leftovers and hand-me-downs.  Oh, I’m glad for the kids but I just hate they are not going to experience the joy of owning a 1960 Rambler.

Unlike today, it was not an automatic deal to get a car when you turned sixteen.  Get a license and you get a car is the general rule today. When I turned sixteen you got the right to ask dad to borrow the family car…occasionally.  Only the coolest kids got to actually own a car—and I was about to get cool.  My sister and brother-in-law lived in Daytona Beach and he had a car that he drove back and forth to work.  When he upgraded, rather than sell his old one, they told my mom and dad that they were willing to give it to me.

Then, and even more now, I realize just how generous that was.  It wasn’t necessarily the value of the car as it was them thinking how that just might increase my standing in the world.  Dewayne Taylor…car owner.  Oh, yes, things were about to get better…much better.  So one day, they drove the car up to Jacksonville and pulled in the driveway.  There she was.  I know beauty is in the eye of the beholder and to me she was beautiful.

She was a 1960 Rambler Deluxe.  Now in case you don’t know Ramber was a division of American Motors which of course is now a part of car history.  This beautiful hunk of metal was…well…unique.  It was hand-painted (as in with a brush) a deep royal blue color.  The brush marks only added to it uniqueness.  Right down the middle of the body was a bold yellow racing stripe.  Having lived most of its life near the ocean it probably had an equal amount of metal and bonddo filler in the body.  It was powered by a straight line 6 cylinder, 195 cube inch monster producing 127 horsepower with a very pronounced rod knocking.  Anything over 35 miles per hour and the engine sounded like a professional drummer going wild on a trap set. She boasted a three speed manual on the column.  It wasn’t exactly a muscle car but she was mine.

One of the first things my dad and I did was go to Sears and buy a set of seat-covers.  This was 1970 so we bought navy blue covers plastered with bright red and yellow flowers.  To enhance its racing car mystic I even installed a tachometer on the dash.  I was ready.  My job bagging groceries at Food Fair provided gas money and I was the indeed the leader of the pack. I became the “go to” guy for social events.  “Hey, wanna go horseback riding on Saturday? Great, I’ll pick you up.” “Wanna go to the movies Friday night?  Be a your house at 6:00.” Yup life was good.

The old Rambler lasted somewhere over a year and the old engine just kept on knocking.  It was the clutch that finally gave out.  Dad decided it wasn’t worth fixing so it eventually found its way to the junk yard.  No, there wasn’t a big, fancy replacement.  It was back to borrowing when I could.  But for those months…I was the leader of the pack, and I was grateful.

One of the things we have lost over the years is gratitude.  Somewhere we have almost lost the fine art of being grateful for the little and big things that come our way.  We stopped being thankful and instead become jealous of what others have.  It leads to a vicious cycle of keeping up with the Jones.  In case you don’t know they are the couple down the street that always seem to have more than you.  So we work longer hours, carry way to much debt and still have the gnawing feeling that we need, we deserve more.  We believe the commercial line, “we deserve a break today” only it isn’t for a burger built our way.

The Book has a lot to say about gratitude and commitment.  Paul, one of the New Testament writers, said he had learned the secret of being content with whatever, whenever. And he wrote that sitting in a Roman prison waiting for them to decide when they were going to kill him.  Incredible. The secret?  Faith in Jesus Christ.  He went on to say, “For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength.” He was saying his faith in God was enough.  Everything else was gravy.

I’m not saying every car in the lot needs to be a Rambler, but I am saying one of the best gifts you can give your kids is the gift of gratitude…teaching them to be thankful for simple things…the little things…things like an old Rambler with more bondo filler than metal.  Teach them to be content.  Of course, there is a catch.  You kinda have to understand that yourself before you can teach them.  Tell you what.  Sometime today why don’t take time and talk to your Heavenly Father about contentment.  He’ll probably whisper, “I’m enough. Rest in Me. I’ve got this.”  He is, We should, and He does.  Bro. Dewayne