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

Rubbish

He does not punish us for all our sins; He does not deal harshly with us, as we deserve. For His unfailing love toward those who fear Him is as great as the height of the heavens above the earth. He has removed our sins as far from us as the east is from the west.” Psalm 103:10-12

It always amazes me.  At 217, like most homes, we have a trash can in several rooms in our house.  Of course, the main attraction is in the kitchen.  There we have a stainless steel, thirteen-gallon can.  It holds, oh, I’m guessing, about thirteen gallons of trash—bet you saw that one coming, didn’t you?  At any rate, it always surprises me just how fast that can will fill up.  It is only my wife Judy and me in the house and yet we manage to fill it up at least a couple of times a week.  The bottom line is we produce more trash than we think.

Now for part two.  In Judy’s home office, in my home office, in both bathrooms, and in at least one of the bedrooms we have additional trash cans.  Now these don’t fill up quite as fast but guess what?  They do fill up.  So occasionally one of us will make the rounds and gather all the trash from the other parts of the house.  Well, surprise again!  You would be amazed just how much trash we gather.  As we make the rounds, the bag we are carrying gets fuller and fuller and fuller.  And by the time we are done we have a very full and very heavy bag. How about that?!

All the trash, whether it is from the kitchen, or the rest of the rooms ends up in the monster size can outside. Once a week, the trash guys drive by the house, grab the can, and dump it into their truck and off it goes wherever trash goes that they collect.  All I know is I am grateful that someone takes care of all my rubbish (that’s a British word I learned while in England) so I don’t have to deal with it anymore.  How about that?!

You know it isn’t just physical rubbish that we must deal with in life. The truth is we do a pretty good job of producing life rubbish too.  There are words that should have never been spoken, thoughts that we should not have thought, actions that would have been better undone and that is just the short list. The Bible tells us that we all have done things that are wrong…that are offensive…both to others and to God. Too often we brush it off…excuse it away but the bumps, bruises, and scars on the lives of others don’t go away that easily.  And honestly, God just can’t brush it off either.  But there is hope…big time.

You see God made a way for all the rubbish of our lives to be forgiven.  In fact, He says in His book that all our rubbish can be taken not just to the dump, but as far as the east is from the west.  In another place He says they are dumped in the sea…never to be seen again.  You might wonder why God would do that for us.  The answer is one word…love.  God knows we are broken but He just loves to us too much to leave us that way.  That is why He sent His Son Jesus to die in our place on an old rugged cross.

Here’s more good news.  No matter what kind of rubbish you have accumulated, no matter if you think it is impossible for anyone to take care of your rubbish…God can…and God will.  All you must do is ask.  Now don’t confuse this with religion or starting this or stopping that.  This is all about His love for you and His amazing grace.  So why not take your rubbish to the curb…right now…today? You can, because “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, wisdom

Money Tip

For the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil.” 1 Timothy 6:10

I never considered myself an entrepreneur but looking back…maybe I am.  Fortunately, I was raised by a Momma and Daddy who believed in a strong work ethic.  While they weren’t overbearing about it, I grew up knowing that I should get a job and go to work. It must have worked because over my 53 working years I have always managed to have a job and go to work.  I consider that quite a blessing. Looking back, I think my working career really started when I was about ten years old.

In the early sixties, we had an old lawn mower or two that had seen better days but my Daddy, ever the mechanic, managed to keep them running.  And then, he was willing to let me borrow the mower and go around the neighborhood offering to mow people’s yards. Today, that is big business but back then…not so much.  I would grab the lawn mower, the gas can and start going door to door.  My business plan was simple.

I would go to the door, knock, or ring the bell and wait for someone to answer.  When they did, I would simply say, “Hello.  Would you like your grass mowed for $2.00? Now, most of these yards were a pretty good size so even back then that seemed like a fair price to me…but guess what?  That $2.00 then is equal to $27.40 today.  What? Ok, I must admit I was surprised to learn that.  That might explain why more often than not, the answer to my question was a polite, “No.”  You see, it turns out that $2.00 was a sizable investment back in ’64.

But there were plenty of folks that said yes, and there were a few repeat customers.  The bottom line is it was enough to give me some spending money and, of course, keep the gas can filled.  At the end of the day there was always a trip to Jackson’s Minute Market that was down the street from my house.  There I would pull out one of the wadded-up dollar bills and trade part of it for a RC cola or Icee and a honey bun.  That would set me back a quarter.  The rest of my earnings stayed in my pocket or in a safe place back home just waiting for a trip to the Pic-N-Save or some other store.

Speaking of Pic-N-Save, that is one thing I wrestled with—saving.  If memory serves me right, I did a whole lot more spending than saving.  It seems I remember my Daddy saying something about that money, “burning a hole in my pocket.”  Well, he was right.  While money didn’t come easy for me in ’64 it sure went easy.  Me and my dollars were all about me.  I never thought about giving or sharing…only spending.

Well, I am glad to let you know I have learned a little more about money since those days.  First, I learned (well, actually I’m still learning) that Jesus was right…it is more blessed to give than to receive.  Me and Jesus (and my wife Judy) came to terms a long time ago about giving back a part of what He gives to me. I’m even learning that everything belongs to Him anyway, so it only seems right to give some back.  And that isn’t all.

I’m also learning about saving.  I’ve always said that I was a spender and not a saver but now I can honestly say that I’m a pretty good saver. In fact, sometimes it is hard for me to let go of those hard earned dollars.  That might explain why I don’t go to the grocery store too often.  Judy will send me looking for a can of beans.  When I get there, I find out that there are all kinds of beans, and some are cheaper than others.  So, it might take me a couple of days to decide which one to buy.  Hmmm…how about that?

Another thing that I have learned is that money isn’t good or bad…it is just money…a tool that we can use either wisely or foolishly. One of those verses in the Bible that is often misquoted says that money is the root of all evil.  Turns out that isn’t what the Bible says at all.  It says that the love of money is the root of all evil.  In other words, when we start worshiping money or when greed becomes a monster in our lives…we are in deep weeds, and the answer to all of that is—generosity.

So, it turns out what to do with money is one of those lifelong lessons.  I’m grateful the ten-year-old Dewayne was taught to work but I wish he had learned a lot earlier about giving, sharing, and saving. But the good news is that it is never too late to change.  One of the greatest joys in life is sharing with others.  I think it must be a Jesus thing because He always shared with those around Him.  If you need some help, why not ask the One who owns it all…and chooses to share with you.  Take it to the bank (pun intended) He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne 

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

Pay Attention

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 one 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.  Well, it took a while but finally all of this was a memory in the rearview mirror, and I was very, very glad.

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 very 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 very 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 even 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.  By the way, 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 Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, travel, Trials

Define “Sandwich”

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

She thought it was funny.  A long time ago, my family and I were visiting with my sister Kathy and her husband Stann.  They lived way down South in the land of grits and hospitality, and we lived just across the river in Southern Illinois.  We had 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 welcomed and when you leave, you know you will be missed.

Well, when it came time for us to leave, Miss Hospitality, kindly made us a 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.

If my memory serves me right we stopped 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. And, and my wallet was happy too. McDonald’s wouldn’t be getting my business today…thanks to my kind sister.  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 and my dear hungry wife 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, 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 latter and not the former?  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.  In fact, I wonder if Kathy even remembers this. I do and it makes me smile.

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, food, friends, gratitude, life, 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.  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 into 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 got.  First, I got 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 sit 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, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Scars are Stories

When Jesus stood up, he said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” “No one, Lord,” she answered. “Neither do I condemn you,” said Jesus. “Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.” John 8:10-11

It’s a great setup.  I’ve written several times about my early morning routine. It involves coffee, the weather report and Jesus.  I am a creature of habit and mess with my habits, and it messes me up. But sometimes I do something a little different that just works better.  When I fell a couple of months ago and messed up my hand, my wife Judy donated a little lap desk to help me study and write.  Well, she never took it back, so it became…mine.  I also found out that this little desk made a great addition to my routine as it is a great place to put my iPad and my coffee cup. Boom.  Things just got better.

Well, the other morning I was sipping coffee and using my iPad to read a couple of devotions.  The guy I was reading wrote about scars and as I was reading…I was looking.  You see, my hands have several scars and each one is a story.  On my right thumb is one that reminds me of the ten year old (or so) who was cutting watermelon and ignored his Daddy’s advice about how to use a knife. On my middle finger of my right hand, right on the knuckle, is an inch long scar caused by my careless use of an X-Acto knife I was using to build a model car or plane.

Let’s look at my left hand.  On my index finger are two scars…close together.  One was caused when I was riding with my sister and her then boyfriend in his car.  The car in front of us stopped…and he didn’t.  This was before seatbelts and when I headed for the windshield, I threw my hand up to protect my head.  I guess it worked but I did cut my hand up in the process.  I guess hand is better than head.  The other scar was a woodcutting thing.  I didn’t cut it with the saw or you might be calling me “Three Fingers.”  No, a piece of wood that was in a bind slipped and whacked my hand leaving a nasty gash.

There are a couple of smaller scars on both hands but their birth didn’t garner a memory.  I do have a couple of scars in other places, like the one by my eye which happened on a racquetball court.  A guy hit me with his racket on that one.  But by and large most of my physical scars are on my hands because that is where all the action is.  In other words, whatever you put out there in life will probably get scarred…like our hearts.  All of us probably have some scars left when we put our heart out there and someone wounded us.  It’s just life.

But now for the bigger story.  Remember that scars may be a sign of a painful wound…but they are also a sign of healing.  The scars that are on my hands were bleeding and painful when they happened but gradually they healed over and the bleeding stopped and they healed over. That’s a good thing.  Now you know and I know that wounds on our heart are a whole different animal.  They may heal but it often takes more than some antibiotic cream and a Band-Aid. They say that time heals all wounds and that might be partially true.  Time does help but time can’t always heal.  The good news is there is something…Someone…who can heal and His name is Jesus.

My friend Jesus is a healer of hearts.  When He walked the earth, He amazed the people in many ways…twice He gave everyone a free lunch.  But countless times He would take the broken, the castaways and lovingly put their lives back together.  I love the story when a woman was caught in adultery.  The religious people wanted to stone her but Jesus chose to love her.  I suppose in my life, and in yours, there have been some stoning opportunities but here is one thing I know.  Jesus isn’t a rock chucker—He is a heart healer and He wants to help heal yours today.

So, how about it?  Do you have some wounds on your heart that time just hasn’t taken care of? Are you still hurting from a train wreck in life years ago?  Why not give Jesus the opportunity to help?  “How” you ask?  Well, why not try asking?  It is called prayer and trust me it is worth a shot.  The other key element is faith—believing that He is there listening.  Don’t be surprised if the first thing you hear is Him asking you to forgive because forgiving others always helps heal our own wounds.  So, when you are done reading, why not start praying.  He is waiting and He is willing.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, Scripture, sovereignty of God, 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 was1967 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 at 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 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 some 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 pant’s 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, through 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 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 this 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

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

Coach

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

We have 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 on top of our garage.  It is a classy two-bedroom apartment that we rent out as a short-term vacation rental.  We have lots of people stay 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 great lady 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.  About a year ago a new and unexpected member was added to the team.  His name is Coach. So, here’s the deal.  Last year 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 to the idea of a new feline friend.  And then it happened.

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

Now this is the 217 part.  When a guest pulls up at 217 and parks, it is not unusual for Coach to come on over and say hi.  It almost seems that he is just watching and waiting for them to come.  You would think 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 is a hit almost every time.

Earlier this week, 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 now that he is a social rock star, I let that go.  I mean if the guests want to think that Mr. Cool belongs 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.

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 today that said, “Our vibes draw our tribes.”  That is so true.  So, 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, prayer, 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 long 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 an insect, and quite honestly, an ugly insect that emerges late summer.  And if I’ve got it right…different kinds emerge at different times and even years.

So, when Facebook only existed at Harvard University and when the sitcom “Friends” aired its last episode, a newly hatched brood of cicada nymphs (babies) fell from the trees and burrowed into the dirt.  They stayed there snacking on the sap of rootlets and slowly growing…until the time is right.  The cicadas that were singing this morning, again if I am correct, aren’t the ones who have been preparing for these days for 17 years—most of these are in the dirt for a much shorter time…only a year or two.

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 means that we are to 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 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, and 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, forgiveness, friends, Grace, life, loving others, missions, Scripture, travel, Trials

Dropping the Baggage

I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead.” Philippians 3:13b

Baggage…it is a fact of travel and a fact of life.  Our team of four checked in at the airport and gladly gave our baggage to the agent at the desk.  One by one, our bags, as varied as the people who packed them, were weighed, and given up.  And honestly, we were glad to do so.  With our baggage handed over, our journey, our travel experience was a lot easier.  When you give your luggage up, you always wonder if you will see it again.  These days, the airline (at least the one we flew) sent us a text letting us know everything was safely onboard the plane.  Nice.

Well, we landed in Atlanta and waited just a while and soon it was time to board the plane for our final leg of our journey…the one that would take us all the way to England.  Sure enough, a message let us know our bags were onboard and would make the journey with us.  That is always a good feeling.  A little over seven hours later, it was time to land and sure enough our bags were there, and we took an Uber to the hotel.  Well, the next leg of our journey was by train, so we had to walk a little and take the tube (the British word for the subway—not the sandwich shop) to the train station.  As we left our hotel, we had our first personal experience with our luggage.

You see, this time there was no one to take our luggage—except us. Some of us had smaller bags, some had baggage so large we nick named it “the beast.”  There was a variety of smaller backpacks and whether all of them had wheels or not, they were a necessary hassle.  If it wasn’t for the fact that it is a common sight in London…I’m sure we would have looked quite comical. But we pushed and pulled, lifted, and dragged, squeezed through tight tube gates and balanced all of this on the narrow steps of several escalators.  Oh yes…it was fun.

Well, the good news is, we made it.  We made it all the way to our destination and when the time came, we made it all the way back home…well almost.  Turns out the beast got left by the airline in London, but it did arrive several days later.  Because I am a person who likes to prepare, I watched several travel videos to learn about England and also how to travel.  The guy in the video made one point very clear. When you pack, remember that everything you decid to take with you, you will have to push, pull, drag, and carry along the way.  And you know what…he was exactly right.  I was very glad that my bag was one of smaller and lighter ones (32 pounds, thank-you) and my backpack was too. I was glad that at the last minute I did indeed determine I didn’t need the kitchen sink after all!

Well, we all know that baggage is part of the travel deal but baggage is also part of this journey called life.  Along the way, we pick up things, some our fault and some no fault of our own at all, and we find ourselves dragging it through life.  A difficult childhood, a broken heart, a bad financial decision, or romance decision and on and on it goes.  Baggage…we all have our fair share.  But here is the good news.  It turns out that even if we can’t totally ditch all this unwanted baggage, we can at least lighten the load.  And often, it begins with two small words—letting go.

You see, we can’t undo what others have done to us and short of some sort of a miracle we can’t forget either but there is something we can do.  We can choose to refuse to allow the baggage to weigh us down.  We can determine to what extent we give the person or the event space in our lives today.  We can let it go…we can largely leave it behind.  It will probably involve some forgiveness—whether it be someone else—or yourself. I really love the place in the Bible where Paul, who had tons of baggage, some he made and some others gave him, simply says he chose to forget.

Just for the record he wasn’t talking about actually forgetting but rather choosing not to allow the baggage of the past to impact his today. That was something he could do and something we can do.  And when we do…we are going to find out that life is a lot easier when we are not weighted down with yesterday’s baggage.  So, what do you say? Why not let today be the day we drop the bags of the past and sprint toward what lies before?  On our journey, we would sometimes help another person with their bags, and I am glad I can tell you that God is just waiting to help us with our baggage too.  Don’t you worry. He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne