Posted in Family, fear, life, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, Trials

Shiny, Like New…but Dangerous

Don’t answer the foolish arguments of fools, or you will become as foolish as they are.” Proverbs 26:4

It was deadly but I didn’t know it. There was always something to find at 6008 Carlton Road. Like so many older, country home places things had a way of accumulating. Back in those days there were several unsanctioned dumps around the countryside, and no one thought a thing about using them—it was just part of living out in the county. The problem, at least for the Taylors, was we didn’t own a truck and, except for my brother who lived sometimes in Texas and sometimes across town, we didn’t know anyone who did.  So, we had stuff laying around.

One of the things we had laying around was an old washing machine.  It had long since quit working so it sat in the lawn behind the junk room for a long time.  It was there that I found something quite amazing.  In the lid, I think, was some short of “switchy” thing. It had wires connected to it and in the middle was a glass thing and in that glass thing was some silver liquid. Well, you can bet that that caught my eye. So, I decided that I needed to get it out of there. So, I cut it free from the old washing machine, put it in some sort of small container and found something—who knows what—and broke the glass.

The silvery stuff stuck together in a small puddle and if I took my finger and pushed it around it would always come back together.  I also found out that some of it would stay on my finger. Now I have no idea how this part happened, but I am certain it did.  Somewhere, somehow, I found a dime.  Now trust me that was no small deal because that in those days that would buy a Coke and a Snickers, so it was big money. So, I found this dime and for some reason, I put it next in the silvery stuff and guess what happened?

Well, what happened is, for whatever reason, the silvery stuff stuck to that dime like white on rice.  There were two things I didn’t know then that I know now.  First, back in those days the silver coins like dimes and quarters were really made of silver.  Second, that silvery stuff was something called mercury and apparently mercury likes silver and what happened next was almost magical.  No matter how bad that dime looked, when the mercury got all over it, it looked better than brand new.  It went from dull and old to looking shiny and new.  Like I said, it was pretty amazing. Well, I never found out exactly how long the dime looked that way because it pretty quickly made its way to the Minute Market down the road for that Coke and Snickers.

Well, I didn’t know that I was playing with something that was pretty dangerous—mercury.  We know now that mercury is nothing to mess with.  We know that it can cause some serious health concerns.  In fact, the people who build stuff aren’t allowed to use it anymore.  Between mercury and the lead paint our house was painted with, it’s probably a miracle we all turned out ok.  Of course, you can probably tell from these stories that I always was just a little different—adventurous but just a little hyper.  I’m sure I had some sort of syndrome and didn’t know it.

This caused me to wonder how many things do we have laying around in our lives that just like mercury…and the lead paint for that matter…are dangerous and poisonous? I wonder how many toxic habits or relationships we hang on to and handle either because we don’t know or are just too stubborn to let go? It reminds me of the monkey trap where someone would build a cage and put a banana in it.  A monkey would come along and reach into the cage for the banana only to discover that he could get his hand out with the banana.  Too often, rather than let it go, they would hang on too long and end up either in a zoo or some native’s stew pot.  Hmmm.

King Solomon, the guy who wrote the book of Proverbs in the Old Testament, was one of the wisest men ever to live.  He said, “Don’t answer the foolish arguments of fools, or you will become as foolish as they are.” In other words—steer clear of fools and folly or you are bound to end up in deep weeds.  The crazy part about King Solomon is that in the end he ended up not taking his own good advice.  Let me encourage you, and me for that matter, to be careful about the things we allow to stick around in our lives.  Like the dime, it may look shiny and new, but it just might be dangerous…very dangerous.  Need some insight, a little wisdom?  No, problem just ask, and God will be glad to help.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

My Simple Life

So don’t worry about these things, saying, ‘What will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear?’” Matthew 6:31

It was just simpler back then. I got up this morning with a little (or maybe a lot) of coffee, a spot of the Weather Channel, and some Jesus.  Then, I just sat and thought for a while.  On the television was a channel from YouTube that shows live camera feeds from all over the Northeast, and I was just amazed how much it looked like Europe…another time and another place. Then, I thought about my day.  I’m figuring out that each day is His day as He is the maker, the crafter of each one.  I’m also learning that since He owns everything that makes me a steward of the next 24 hours and the events and circumstances He has planned.

Mainly, there is a sermon to polish for Sunday and a funeral to craft for Saturday.  But mainly I’m just waiting to see what is on His mind and honestly, sometimes that is simple and sometimes it is complex.  Regardless, I know it is His plan and it is one that He has determined that will bring good into my life and hopefully some glory to Him.  With all that said, I have to admit there are times that I long for times when things were simpler as in less complex.  While that has happened and surely will happen again, when I was about eight, it was the norm.

When I was eight, I was concerned about very little.  Momma and Daddy were still healthy and every morning there was something for breakfast, something for lunch and something for supper.  There were delicacies like fried potato sandwiches and peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches and if we were short on peanut butter we would just go with the mayonnaise. After breakfast though I would head out to the yard and just do…something.  There were occasional chores like picking up the yard pulling weeds but generally the day was mine. I hadn’t figured the God part out yet.

Because toys, at least the kind you buy at a store, were in short supply, I would go into the junk room—a small room with its own outside entrance and filled with stuff—and see what caught my eye.  There was always something that with a little imagination could become a source of entertainment. First, and one of my favorites, was a piece of chain, usually about six feet long.  You see, our driveway wasn’t paved, that was something rich people had, so it was like a giant sand box.  I found out you could take that piece of chain and drag it behind you, and it became a train. I would watch as the sand flowed in and around the links of the chain leaving a perfect track in the rear.  A chain became a train—imagine that.

In certain times of the year, North Florida—well really the whole state, I guess—was inundated with “love bugs.” They were everywhere and would splat on windshields and clog radiators as cars zoomed down the highway.  They also seemed to love a parked car.  When I would go outside looking for that day’s adventure, they would be all over Daddy’s 1961, light blue, Plymouth station-wagon and whether they knew it or not—they were a target.  I would search the yard and drawers in the kitchen for rubber bands discarded from newspapers, string them together and go hunting.  Stretching them back, I would take aim and one by one pick them off of Daddy’s car.  This could go on for a long while.  I thought I was doing Daddy a favor but turns out the bug’s innards could eat a car’s paint right off. Oops.

While each day was different, each day was simple.  Each day was consistent…little to worry about and an opportunity for fun.  And while that kind of simplicity has long since passed there is another for today.  Today too can be a day with little to worry about and dare I say it, an opportunity for fun.  You see, if you are a Jesus follower, He really wants to take care of the worry part.  In fact, He just flat-out tells us not to worry because if God can take care of the birds…He can take care of us too.  How about that? And the fun part?  Well, that is up to us.  We simply need to learn, to remember what that means and how to do it.  My wife Judy tells me frequently that we need to learn how to celebrate, and she is right, but we also need to relearn how to just have fun.  It probably involves letting go and letting Him so our hands and hearts will be free to be free.

So, what are you worrying about today? What has you bound up like a too tight pair of shoes?  What are you going to do today that is fun?  Now don’t tell me you don’t have time (that is simply a matter of choice) or the money—chain and rubber bands are cheap—smile.  Today, be brave enough to do something different—to make a change. Let it go and let Him.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

I’m Not Believing It

For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.” Ephesians 2:10

In my opinion, it said more than it knew.  After my enrollment in the program to send me down the path to a medicine and diabetes free future, they sent me a box full of treasurers.  I wrote briefly about my treasure box in a previous blog titled, “Bread, Potatoes, and Pecan Pie.” If you missed that one, you might want to go to www.gritswithgrace.com  and check it out.  Anyway, the box was filled with gadgets that would monitor me, my body, and my health.  Most of them I found helpful and even engaging but there was one…there was one that I did not like.

I am an Apple guy…well, not necessarily the kind you eat but the kind you use for work and information.  I own an Apple computer, an Apple iPad, and an Apple Watch.  One of the things I like about owning the same brand in my work and life tools is that they talk to one another.  Well, when my box of treasures arrived, it included a Garmin activity tracker.  It kinda, sorta does the same thing my Apple Watch does but with a different platform.  It certainly is not an Apple Watch, but I figured I might as well give it a try.  Not willing to give up my Apple friend on my right wrist, I strapped the Garmin on my left wrist.

I know, I know, that sounds a little wonky and honestly it probably is but the Garmin looks and works very differently from my Apple Watch, so most people don’t think I am wearing two watches.  In fact, they probably don’t think anything about what’s on my wrist.  While the Garmin the device itself is not much to talk about—it is small, hard to use and blah—the app it talks to on my phone is very cool.  In fact, somehow it provides much of the same information as its big cousin.

One day I was going through the App, checking out the different screens and all the information it had gathered and analyzed.  I was impressed…until I wasn’t.  You see, there was a screen that listed about ten different areas and measurements—all about me and my body.  Most were fine, most were informative but one—one was downright offensive.  It is called, “VO2 Max.”  According to the app, the VO2 Max is a direct indictor of my level of fitness and apparently my “body age.” How this wimp, too big for its britches, something that doesn’t even know me (you can tell by now that I was personally offended by this useless chunk of plastic), I am out of shape and, get this, physically almost a decade older than I really am.

That’s right folks, according to the Garmin I am physically in the bottom 30% of men for my age and my body age is not 69 but 78.  Ok, I’m still mad and here’s why.  This out of shape, “ten years older than I am” guy, on the day after the assessment, took a brisk (as in pretty fast) two mile walk, walked 11,419 steps, burned 2,451 calories, and climbed eight flights of stairs. Now from where I sit that isn’t too bad…certainly I am no couch potato.  I mean what does this thing really know about me anyway?  And just for the record, my Apple Watch has another opinion about me…and so does my Dearest Daddy.

When I read those words, I knew I was faced with a choice.  I could believe what it said or believe what I know to be true.  I could believe what some formula, probably written by some guy in a faraway land, or believe what my reality says.  I am choosing the latter.  Now let’s be honest…I’ve got lots of room for improvement, but I am not some physical loser.  I just don’t believe it. The Garmin caused me to take a look, a close look, at where I am physically but it also caused me to take a look spiritually.  It caused me to ask, “So what do you believe about you—what others say or what God says?”

On the surface, it is a no brainer—I choose to believe my Dearest Daddy.  He calls me (and you) a masterpiece…no, really, He does.  In Ephesians 2:10, His Book, the Bible, says, “For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago.” Now, how about that?  Trust me on this one.  There are plenty of people and plenty of things that are just waiting to tell you what you are or are not.  But you remember this—there is only one opinion that matters and that comes from the One who made you.  So, I my wear the Garmin but I don’t own its opinion of me…I’ll leave that with the One who loves me more and perfectly.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, food, gratitude, life, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Bread, Potatoes and Pecan Pie

The One who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.” 1 John 4:4b

It came in the mail.  It was an advertisement, an offer really, to join a program that would not only help me control my diabetes but to reverse it.  If everything went according to plan, I could come off both of my diabetic meds and lose the “I’m diabetic” label.  There were two more things.  First, thanks to my insurance program, it would be provided to me at absolutely no cost to me.  I’m sure it is costing my insurance plenty, but the price for me was paid in full…hmmm, can someone else besides me see a parallel there.  Can someone say, grace, mercy, and Jesus?

The second thing was that the program would provide several things they called sensors…I call them gadgets.  First, there was one of those totally cool glucose monitors that you wear and through your smartphone it tells on the fly what your sugar level is.  Second, was a Garmin activity tracker that tells you all kind of stuff…more on that in a later story.  Third, was a scale that not only tells you your weight but also how much body fat you have.  This one, for obvious reasons, was not one of my favorites. Number four on the list was a meter that tells me if I have too many ketones.  I’m not sure what they do or what they are, but I know you don’t want too many of them.  Finally, there was a blood pressure “taker thinger” and it does just what it says.  What also made the cool list is the fact that all these things talk to an application on my phone and all that information is compiled and it tells me and them if I am failing or succeeding.

So, there you go.  No diabetes, no cost, lots of gadgets and only one problem.  When I talked to the nice lady on the phone, she told me there wouldn’t be a lot of weird food like tofu or jellyfish eggs.  What she didn’t tell me was that there wouldn’t be any really good food on the program either.  Well, to be fair, that is not totally true.  In fact, there are a lot of foods that I can eat and some a southern boy like me even like but there was no bread, no potatoes, no anything that had carbohydrates in them—and that is about every good thing besides meat and eggs.  Hmmm…we have a problem.

Now all this is made worse by the fact that I have my sugar 100% under control.  I turned the sweets thing almost totally off and cut way back on the starchy stuff and my sugar quickly plummeted.  Thank you, sir…mission accomplished…but not quite.  You see, if you remember my new friends want me to get off medicine. However to get off the medicine, I have to give up a whole category of stuff that I love and have loved all my life.  The problem is I am quite content to take a couple of pills if they will allow me to eat some of my favorites.  I am quite willing to let the two, my self-control and my medicine, work together.  Honestly, it would probably be better for me to ditch the medicines but no bread, no potatoes, and worst of all, no, none, never pecan pie.  What?

I think this is just a human nature thing and as you know our human nature can get us in trouble.  Another name for our human nature is our sinful nature and our sinful nature wants us to sin—maybe not a whole lot but at least some of our favorites.  We usually think the price is worth it.  So, we control this and control that but often refuse to take the giant leap into total surrender.  I know there is a difference between indulging in bread and lust or potatoes and anger but the principle is the same.  We want what we want—even if the price is high and it is.

I’m not sure what I’m going to do about this new thing I’m enrolled in.  I think I am going to try and find a place somewhere in the middle.  I know that isn’t the best solution but regardless that is probably where I will land.  But hear me clearly—that does not work with sin.  With sin the best thing you can do is run fast and hard in the opposite direction.  Remember this…sin will always win, and it will take you further and cost you more than you think.  That is why our Father sent His Son, that is why the Son died and resurrected and that is why we need Him to rescue and save us.

Listen, all the cool sin gadgets in the world aren’t worth what they cost in the end.  It will cost you a whole lot more than a pile of mashed potatoes.  Just remember, what you can’t do on your own, you can do with Him. 1 John 4:4b says, “The One who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.”  In other words, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Southern born, thankful, travel, Trials

Snakes from Heaven

Whatever is good and perfect is a gift coming down to us from God our Father. James 1:17

Plop and there he was.  When we made our last trip to the land of collards and grits, aka South Georgia, we of course had to make the rounds visiting the relatives. Mostly they were on the Allen side. There is my wife Judy’s oldest sister, a couple of old brothers (oops, I meant to say older), a somewhat, younger sister and a host of nieces, nephews and a few Cousin Eddie’s.

Well, one day, we were out in the country visiting her oldest brother Smitty and his wife Marie.  A while back Smitty suffered a stroke and lost his ability to speak…well…he still talks up a storm and with passion, it’s just we can only understand a few words.  Regardless…we always enjoy the visits.  Smitty has always been quite the character and it would take more than a stroke to change that.  So, we visited, and visited, and then we visited some more.  Finally, it was time to move on to the next relative. When we stood to leave Marie said, “I’m gonna get this room cleaned out and y’all can stay with us next time.” The room was separate from the house with its own bathroom and entrance. I told her that sounded really good.

Before we could move on to the car and make the great escape, she said, “Well, let me show you this room.”  She and I made our way to the door and with her leading the way, she opened the door and I followed.  As she opened the door and walked through, I stepped into the doorway behind her, and just about then, a snake, yes-a real live snake, fell from the door-casing and landed not more than a foot from me.  As it hit the floor it made a nice plopping sound.  I made another kind of sound.

So, let me set this up, Marie is in the room, totally unaware of what has fallen right behind her, I am in the doorway fully aware of what has fallen right in front of me, and our new friend is looking at both of us with a real attitude.  The snake had my full attention, so I got Marie’s attention and as we watched he set about trying to bite us—striking at her and striking at me.  You’ve probably heard stories about how feisty a little chihuahua can be, well, this snake was part chihuahua. I realize he was only about twelve inches long, but for all intents and purposes, he was the size of an Amazon boa-constrictor. It was time for him to leave.

Marie, who is 100% South Georgia born and raised, went, and got a hoe and well, let’s just say Mr. Snake went to meet his maker.  If you like snakes, sorry.  But if you are like me and firmly believes that the only good snake is one that is not breathing…well, you understand.  So, what is the moral of this short story?  What is the big truth?  Well, I’m pretty sure for me it involves not being surprised at what can plop down right in front of you when you least expect it.  Things can change quickly.  The really, really big lesson is about gratitude.  You see, if Mr. Snake had waited just about five more seconds to plop…he would have plopped right on my head, fallen into my shirt and I would have died of a heart attack.

We could talk about why the snake fell in the first place, but I think I’ll spend my time thanking the good Lord for those five seconds.  You see, time after time as we journey through life, there are dozens of little blessings.  All we must do is look for them instead of staring at the circumstances.  James, the half-brother of Jesus and a man that I am sure did not like snakes said, “Whatever is good and perfect is a gift coming down to us from God our Father.”  Well, this gift indeed did come down and sure enough it was good because it taught me not to complain about falling snakes but rather to be thankful for where it landed—or didn’t land.  Now if it had landed on my head and slithered into my shirt, well I am sure my Dearest Daddy would still have said, “Don’t worry, son, I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

Bare Shelves and God’s Faithfulness

So don’t worry, saying, What will we eat or what will we drink? or what will we wear? For [those who don’t trust God] eagerly seek all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.”  Matthew 6:31-32

One of the things (among at least two billion) that was weird about the time during and since COVID was the various shortages that we experienced. Some were expected and some were not. It really was (and still is) a strange sensation to go to the store and find everyday things not there every day. Oh, and did I mention inflation? It seemed like the land of plenty had become something else.

I’m not much for going grocery shopping and that is probably a real paradox. I really like food–we are great friends–just not buying and preparing it. I remember sometime last year Judy and I went to the park for a walk (good idea–walk with your wife…she cooks food) and then I agreed to go with her to WalMart to get a few items.


So, we get to the store and there was in fact plenty of food there. For sure some items were sold out (toilet paper—remember that? Still have a supply stashed?) but others were plenteous. The cookie isle was hard hit but strangely the broccoli wasn’t. But the shocker was when I got to the bread isle it was empty…bare. For a southern boy who was raised to believe that bread is its own food group, well, that was a crisis of Biblical proportions.


It made me think about the children of Israel and their trips to the grocery store. For forty years they would walk outside the camp and there all around them were little mounds of manna. The Bible describes manna as small, round and sweet (Krispy Kreme’s?) and it was always there. Never a time did they go out when the store was open (it was closed for the Sabbath) and the shelf was bare.


God was teaching them—and us—something. They couldn’t hoard (can someone say toilet paper?) because God told them to go out every day and get one day’s supply. The only exception was the day before the Sabbath when they could get two. And every day they went and there were the “Krispy Kreme’s” all around and they would pick them up and God would say, “I am good, I am faithful, and I can be trusted.”

Day after day, week after week, month after month–“I am good, I am faithful, and I can be trusted.” Never a bare shelf, never a failure to deliver, never an oops. Can you imagine? As Jesus followers, I think we can and should. We may not have manna laying around today, but we do have the faithfulness of that same God. He takes care of His kids. You can bank on it.


Jesus talked about this in the Bible when He said, “So don’t worry, saying, What will we eat? or what will we drink? or what will we wear? For [those who don’t trust God] eagerly seek all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.” Let that soak in.  We don’t have to worry because we have a Dearest Daddy who loves us and cares for us.  Period.


So, as we reflect on the past and present, and look forward to the days to come, we can rest in the blessed assurance that God will be there. We need to remember every time there is a need met or a blessing given, to say, “Thank You, Father.” And slowly but surely, we will learn the valuable lesson of God’s faithfulness. God is good. God is faithful. God can be trusted. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Right Results. Wrong Guy.

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

I was driving and the phone rang. A few weeks ago, I signed up for an intense program provided by my insurance company to help manage my sugar problem.  I am in the very early stages of the program and one of the first things they did was provide an appointment to get a complete workup on my blood.  When the results came back, they were generally pretty good.  My own efforts to get my sugar numbers down had worked very well but it came at a price.  As I began to eat virtually no sugar and far less carbohydrates, I began to eat more protein…mainly meat and cheese.  Well, as the sugar numbers came down, my cholesterol numbers went up…not in the “oh, no” range but in the “You need to watch this” range.

Well, I was driving back from a funeral and the phone in my car rang.  You need to know my phone comes through my radio, so this was a hands-free call. Though I didn’t know the number, I decided to answer it anyway.  It turned out to be one of the doctors from my new program.  She said she needed to discuss some of the results on my labs.  I thought she was going to praise me for the relatively good numbers but instead she began a series of questions that clearly indicated she was very concerned.  Did I feel ok? Did I have a headache? Was I experiencing any chest pains? Shortness of breath?  Did I feel excessively tired or confused? I told her I was feeling very well and asked what was going on.

She explained they had received a second set of numbers from the lab and in a word, they were horrible—in fact, they were life threatening.  She told me she wanted to schedule another blood draw immediately and suggested I might need to go to the emergency room.  She promised to get back with me very quickly to see what the next step should be. Well, when I got back to the office, I rechecked my results and sure enough they were good.  Something didn’t make sense. Well, soon the phone rang again and it was a nurse checking back.  Apparently, almost assuredly, the lab had sent another set of results to them in my name—and they were most certainly bad.  To be sure, though, they scheduled me for another test and while the results are pending I’m sure I’m good.  But someone is not.

Out there somewhere is a person who most certainly does not feel well and who probably is going to get some really upsetting news.  They are sick…very sick. While I am very glad that person is not me, I couldn’t help but think about that poor soul who was about to get some yucky news.  If it wasn’t so serious it would be funny.  Trust me, if I knew who and where, I would be calling or knocking and letting them know they need to get the doctor…fast. I would let them know they were in danger of dying.  I wouldn’t let anything stop me.  They need to know the truth.

I know that would be the right thing to do. I would do it and most likely you would too.  But what about this?  Every day we bump into people who are in a greater danger than my unknown friend.  Every day we pass people who have no assurance of what is on the other side of their last heartbeat.  Every day we see and talk to people who are facing life and eternity without the hope of Jesus and the love of God in their lives.  They either haven’t heard or haven’t acted on the greatest news ever—that “God so loved the world that He gave His only Begotten Son that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.”

You see, just because my unknown friend doesn’t know, that does not exclude him from the consequences he is about to face.  Bad numbers are still bad numbers whether he or she knows them or not.  But they deserve the opportunity to act and that is where you and I come in.  Oh, I could assume they wouldn’t want to know.  I could assume they might be offended but wouldn’t they deserve the chance to know, to act, to decide?  Sure, they would.

If you are a Jesus follower, if your “numbers” are good today because of grace, if you can call God “Dearest Daddy,” why not share that news when an opportunity comes knocking?  We often let the fear of rejection override our willingness to share hopeful and helpful news.  Let’s let that stop today.  Let’s let someone know of a God who loves them.  Skip the spiel on religion and get to the heart of the matter…God loves them and no matter what they have done He will forgive them.  They need to know that He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

Crash! Grind! Bummer.

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love.” Romans 8:38 (NLT)

It happened just like that.  I was new to the game…too new to the game.  I had had my driver’s license just a few weeks or at most a couple of months.  I can honestly say I wasn’t one of those cocky kid drivers, in fact I was probably scared to death. I had a job at a Food Fair a fair distance from where we lived at 6008 Carlton Road, and someone had to take me to work. Then my Daddy did it. He trusted me. One day he said that I could take the car and drive myself to work. They weren’t going anywhere, and it would save them from going and coming and coming and going.  I couldn’t believe it.

I remember the first time I carefully backed out of the driveway heading toward Ricker Road.  That day, and for several other days, things went well.  Again, I was careful, I didn’t break the rules and I wasn’t a speeder. Of course, our 1961 Plymouth station wagon wasn’t exactly a race car anyway.  There and back, I went, and all was well…until it wasn’t. One day, like several other days, I was going to drive to work.  Daddy car-pooled and wasn’t home yet.  I backed out of the driveway like every time before and headed for Ricker Road just like every time before…but it wasn’t like every time before.

Apparently, I had opened the back door on the driver’s seat to put something in the backseat and didn’t close the door all the way. As I pressed the gas pedal, the rear door swung open and that is when Mr. Inexperience took over. I heard the road noise, look over my shoulder and saw that the door was open. Well, instead of stopping and closing the door I tried to turn and reach over my shoulder to close the door.  When I turned and reached, I accidentally turned the wheel and, gulp, I ran right into—or actually over—one of our neighbors’ mailboxes. Crunch, grind, bummer.

I hit the brakes and sat there in total shock.  The mailbox was one of those that kinda sat on a little arm and that little arm had hit my windshield and cracked it.  It seems the mirror took a direct hit too. I was so afraid, and I didn’t know what to do…so I ran.  Yup, I was a hit and run driver, but I didn’t drive away…I ran away leaving the car running, my driver’s door open and the mailbox lying dead on the side of the road.

Since I hadn’t made it very far, our house was just a few dozen yards down the road, and I ran all the way. I ran into the kitchen and right into my Momma’s arms. She wanted to know what had happened and the best I could I explained it and then she asked where the car was and the best I could I explained that too. We went back to the car and brought it home and I’m sure Momma and I made a trip to the neighbor’s front door to explain what happened.

Let me tell you what didn’t happen.  Though I was certain it had—the world didn’t come to an end.  After a short while, Daddy came home, and I told him what had happened.  He wasn’t happy but he didn’t disown me…after all I was his son…before and after the accident.  I don’t believe there was any punishment either, but I am sure there was some instruction about how to close a door when the car is moving. “Stop. Close door.”  I also imagine there was some instruction about not leaving the scene of an accident.  And the neighbor…I simply don’t remember but I guess he didn’t press charges. Smile.

I’m sure my little accident cost my Daddy and Momma more than they could afford…even without repairing the mailbox.  I am sure it was money that could have been better used paying an electric bill or buying groceries for our “not too small” family.  But my best memory of all was the fact that Daddy and Momma loved me regardless and anyway.  Oh, I guess you could say it was because I was the baby of the family and their favorite (smile) but the truth is love ruled the day that day.

Looking back, I realize that was one of those times when my Daddy reminded me of my Dearest Daddy…my Heavenly Daddy. My Daddy could have extended wrath, but He extended grace and love—just like my Dearest Daddy…my Heavenly Daddy. I think I learned that day that my Daddy wasn’t someone to run from but to run to—just like my Dearest Daddy…my Heavenly Daddy. Paul, the one in the Bible, said that nothing can ever separate us from the One who loves us most.  How about that?  We have a Dearest Daddy…a Heavenly Daddy that is always there and always willing to whisper, “I’ve got that.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, life, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Me, Momma, and Mrs. Crabtree

When He saw the crowds, He had compassion on them because they were confused and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” Matthew 9:36

I went just a little too far.  When you are an overactive six-year-old, church can be quite difficult.  My pastor was one of my favorite people but when you’re an overactive six-year-old, preaching can be, well, a little boring.  I’ve always loved church music but when you’re an overactive six-year-old, well, the best singers just aren’t enough.  Momma tried to keep me busy.  Her favorite tool was to give me the bulletin and a pen or pencil and I would color in all the little circles.  You would be amazed how many different little circles there were each week.  Well, that would work for a while, but you know, when you are an overactive six-year-old, nothing is going to work for long.

Well, one particular Sunday, the circle thing didn’t even make it past the song service.  By the time they were passing the plates I was out of things to do.  The service was always very predictable.  There would be an opening song, the announcements, a couple of more songs, then the offering, a special music thing, and then the preaching.  After the pastor finished, we would have one more song and call it a day.  Of course, there were always a couple of prayers thrown in for good measure.  So, I knew it was just about time for the preacher to start preaching when I heard Mrs. Rosalyn Crabtree start singing.

Now let me tell you right now, Mrs. Crabtree could flat sing.  I don’t know if she had voice lessons or not, but she sounded like one of those opera singers.  When there was a solo in the choir it was usually Mrs. Crabtree who sang, and more often than not, she sang right before the preacher.  She and her husband Jake were two of my favorite people too.  They taught me in the youth department when I got older, and we even had Rosalyn sing at our wedding when my wife and I were married.  They were great folks.

But this Sunday, well, it was just destiny that I was going to get in trouble.  I was bored by the time the offering was done, so I started poking Momma in the side.  She had her girdle on and it always amazed me just how tight that thing was.  Well, she finally had enough of the poking and said so in a way that I knew if I continued, it wasn’t going to be pretty.  But then Mrs. Crabtree started to sing.  Well, while she was singing, I decided to cover my ears with my hands. Why?  Well, I guess that is what overactive-six-year-olds do.  Well, when I took my hands down there was obviously a big sound difference.  So, I put them back up and then took them down.  I had discovered a new game.

I thought this was a pretty grand entertainment. Momma didn’t think so.

I found out if I did this fast it made a “wa-wa” sound in my ears.  The faster my hands covered and uncovered my ears, the faster the “wa-wa.” I thought this was pretty grand entertainment. Momma didn’t think so. I stopped for a minute but decided it was worth the risk. It wasn’t.  Before I knew it, she and I were heading out the door. I had crossed the line and me and Momma had a little “come to Jesus” meeting.  And do you know what?  That urge to put my hands over my ears strangely disappeared and has never returned.  I guess you could say that Momma discovered a vaccine for that like the one for the COVID virus and it was highly effective. Very.highly.effective.

I am glad that I had a Momma who knew how and when to administer a little discipline…even if it meant taking me out smack dab in the middle of church.  And I am glad that we had a church where no one smirked, and no one said I shouldn’t be there.  We had a church where families and kids were more than welcome and I have tried to make sure that at the churches I pastor, the same is true today.  Rich or poor, black, white, or brown, young, or old—everybody is welcome.  I know that is the way it ought to be because that is the way that Jesus did it. I figure if that was the way He did it—we should do it too.

One time when Jesus was teaching, He looked at the people and had compassion on them because He saw them like a flock of sheep needing a shepherd. Compassion—love in action.  Compassion—love that says come on in, you are welcome here.  I like that.  You see, God is an inclusive God.  He even invites overactive six-year-olds like me and you into His presence.  And He’s always ready to help, always ready to love and always ready to say, “Don’t worry…I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, missions, prayer, Scripture, travel, Trials, wisdom

Big Rivers, Hungry Crocs & Fat Hippos

But if you don’t do this, you will certainly sin against the Lord; be sure your sin will catch up with you.”  Numbers 32:23

How do things like this happen?  If you are older than three, you have probably already bumped into something that got bigger than you intended.  Whether you are a toddler reaching for the cookie jar or a teenager thinking no one will ever know or in a marriage pushing the limits…well, you’ve probably had that emptiness in your stomach when the cookie jar crashes, or dad says, “Son, we need to talk” or you come home to an empty house because word got around.  How does it happen?

Really the answer to that question is older than time and bigger than a short story with a big truth or, for that matter, a thick book full of truths but maybe we can at least cast a little light in the arena.  Judy and I have been to East Africa and the country of Uganda more than a few times.  We launch our trips to the islands of Lake Victoria from the small town of Jinga.  We enter town, with the lake on our right, and cross a small channel that leads to a decent size dam.  On the other side of the dam, and no more than fifty yards wide, is the origin of the mighty Nile River.

Now trust me, if you saw the Mighty Nile at this point you wouldn’t be too impressed.  It wanders through the Ugandan countryside on its way north before eventually emptying into the Mediterranean Sea.  The journey is somewhere over 4,100 miles and slowly the river grows and grows until it is almost two miles wide at some points.  Judy and I had the opportunity to take a ride on the Nile and besides being impressed by its size, I was more than impressed with the very large and very hungry, crocodiles that call the Nile home.  Oh, and did I mention the animal that causes more deaths in Africa than any other animal? It might not be what you think—the hippopotamus and there are lots of them in the Nile. Lots.

So, we begin with something that is relatively small that becomes large and we have something relatively benign that is dangerously filled with things that want to eat you or stomp you to death.  Either way—something little becomes big and dangerous.  And that, dear friend, is how things get out of control in our lives too.  It starts as something we think we can handle, something that almost, almost, seems safe and before long—we have a monster on our hands.  Let’s revisit the Nile.

If you were to start floating down the Nile in your little boat the first chunk of your journey would be easy.  But somewhere upstream (since the Nile flows north) there is something that will kill you—Murchison Falls.  The entire Nile River is funneled down into a rock channel that is only 23 feet wide before the water violently plummets 141 feet.  Go there and you are dead—no exceptions.  It’s the same results when we don’t pay attention to the tension that sometimes occurs in our lives.  When that tension is there…it is there for a reason.  Andy Stanley gives two good pieces of advice.  First, pay attention to the tension; and two, if something bothers you, let it bother you.  That’s good stuff.

So, the big truth today is we sometimes need to hit the pause button.  We also need to understand that we are not the exception to the rule…we can get hurt, we can create a disaster, and yes, someone will find out. Oh, by the way, do you really think it is a secret from God? The Old Testament gives us a sound warning—be sure your sins will find you out and often, when it does, well, its gonna leave a mark—a bruise—or worse.

As you journey today or tomorrow, you might want to listen for the Whisperer whispering His gentle words of warning.  Don’t ignore them…He knows truth and He knows consequences.  Our sin cost His Son His life.  However, if we ask, He will be there to help and to guide. No matter how big the crocs, or how fat the hippos, or how violent the falls—you can trust the fact that, “He’s got this.”    Bro. Dewayne