Posted in Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, Trials

Help!

For sin will not rule over you, because you are not under the law but under grace.”  Romans 6:14

It’s just about to drive me nuts.  For as long as I can remember, I have had to deal with allergies.  From the days of running the woods in Northeast Florida as a kid to now, stuff in the air drives me bonkers.  I can well remember the days in my early twenties when the only weapon I had to fight the battle with was some nose spray.  And the crazy part of that is if you use it too often and too long, it actually makes matters worse.

In the earlier days, my main issue was the fall.  There is this crazy plant called ragweed and when it starts to bloom, I start to suffer.  We are talking itchy eyes, clogged nasal passages, and a sneeze that sounds like a chihuahua chasing their tail wound way too tight.  Oh, and I don’t sneeze once—try six to eight times.  In this COVID mess this has been a real issue because people think I am coughing instead of sneezing, so they give you the death stare and then run.

About a zillion years ago, I discovered something called Flonase that changed my life.  It is a nasal steroid that tricks your nose and eyes into believing that there is nothing in the air.  It was a game changer and I have used it probably for 30 years or more.  Wow, it sure made fall easier.  I might still have some symptoms but at least it was tolerable. Well, about five years ago, something happened.  I started having the same symptoms in the spring too.  They weren’t as bad, and the Flonase keep everything in balance.  All that was true until this year.

As spring began to spring, my allergies started acting up, first in a little way and then in a big way.  Today they are acting in a “you’ve got to be kidding me” way.  So, when I started sounding like an overactive chihuahua I just start using my medicine.  For some reason, this spring, it didn’t work like before.  Now for the last couple of days, I have been sneezing and my eyes have been itching like crazy.  I tried the over-the-counter stuff, and we made a little progress but so far, well, we are still at war.

All of this is so crazy.  Some stuff from some plant is doing something to the lining of my sinuses causing them to go nuts and I end up in misery.  I mean, first, I did nothing to the stinking plants and second, what’s up with my hypersensitive sinuses.  Something that I can’t even see is making me miserable.  I know, I should think positive but when you want to take your eyeballs out so you can scratch them better, it is hard to be positive.  And then I know you aren’t supposed to put your fingers in your eyes, but it feels so good to scratch them.  Oh, my goodness.

You know, I wonder what if sin (you know the things that God says we shouldn’t do) was as irritating as whatever it is that is driving me nuts?  What if it bothered me to the point that I would do anything to stop?  I do believe my life would be better…I know my life would be better.  But the problem with sin is the fact we like it way too much.  For many of us, it’s like the satisfaction I feel when I scratch my eyes or sneeze for the eighth time.  It feels better…it feels good.  But mark this down.  There are consequences.

Sneeze eight times with your eyes closed while driving and you end up running a red light or running into a ditch.  Bummer.  Scratch your eyes too often and you end up with an eye infection or scratching something like whatever it is that makes your eyes work in the first place.  Regardless—you end up in a mess.  The best thing to do is what I did today.  I went to see my eye doctor friend.  Fortunately, she confirmed it wasn’t some weird African eye disease.  She prescribed some medicine that will stop this infernal itching. It’s gonna take a few days but eventually with her help, I’m gonna win.  I knew if there was anything that could be done, she would know and she would help and she did. She is my doctor, but she is also my friend.

It is the same way with this sin thing.  We need to call the sin doctor and that would be Jesus.  He knows all about sin—how to beat it—how to subdue it, and how to avoid all those nasty consequences.  He died so that sin wouldn’t win, and He is more than willing to help us, if we ask.  His death on the cross paid the penalty for our sin but He also gives us victory over the sneezing and itchy eyes part of sin—the day-to-day messiness of sin.  He gives us sin relief and I love that.

Paul, one of the main writers of the New Testament part of the Bible, says that sin (along with all its messy consequences) does not have to rule over us—because we are not under the “thou shalt not’s” but under grace—God’s unlimited and unmerited favor.  And because of that, sin doesn’t have free reign, you know, like too many sneezes and itchy eyes.  That sounds like good news to me.

Just know that if you hear something that sounds like an overactive chihuahua or see some guy with red eyes, don’t worry it is probably just me going nuts.  But remember, and this is the take-away, there is Someone who can handle your sin issues and that Someone is Jesus.  He loves you a lot—so much He died for you.  And whatever your issue is, you can take this to the bank, He’s got this, too.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, life, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials, wisdom

The Old Clock

And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day.” Genesis 3:8

I have a clock.  Well, the truth of the matter I have lots of clocks.  Throughout my adult life, starting in about 1978, I have had this love affair with things that go, “tick-tock.” Then, somewhere along the way, I even began to love clocks that didn’t.  That doesn’t mean they were broken it just means they were electric.  One of the things that I love about clocks is their tenacity—like the Energizer Bunny—they just keep going.  I have some “tick-tock” clocks that are well over a hundred years old, and they are still ticking and still tocking. Something that is almost equally impressive as that are some of the electric clocks that are almost that old and they are still humming along.

And that brings up the clock.  About thirty years ago, I was at a friend’s antique shop on a Sunday afternoon.  I had been there many times before.  As I browsed around, I came across a camel back electric mantle clock.  I instantly recognized it…not because I had seen it before, but one like it.  It was a General Electric, Model 414, Westminster Chiming clock.  The reason I knew it so well was because my grandfather and grandmother had one like it and every time I went to their house, I listened to the song of that clock.  And this clock sounded just like it because—it was.

The song transported me back in time…to a different era when life was slower and to some extent easier.  Well, the clock in the antique shop that day found a new home.  It went first to 319 E. Poplar Street in Cobden and followed me to 217 W. Poplar Street in Harrisburg.  For the last 35 years or so, it has filled the place where it sat with song.  I loved it. Well, about two months ago, I heard sometime and realized it was coming from my beloved friend.

A very distinct noise, more than a hum but less than a grind, was coming from the clock.  The long and short of it is the old motor, after more than sixty years, was showing signs of death.  When the noise started, I immediately did some research and landed at a site of a man who works on this kind of motor…a Telechron.  I told him what my songbird was doing, and the prognosis was grime.  He said the noise meant that the motor was nearing the end of its life and the only answer was to replace the motor.

Well since the clock was still working and because the rebuilt motor was far from inexpensive, I decided to try and live with the clock…noise or not.  But I need to be honest and let you know it is not going well.  Now instead of hearing and loving the beloved song, all I can hear is the sounds of a motor dying…getting louder by the day.  And the problem is the sound of death has drowned out the song of life.  Oh, the dear old clock is still singing its song but for some reason all I can hear is the noise it is making…not the song it is singing.

Somehow, almost unintentionally, I have decided to listen to the noise and not the song.  While the noise is louder it is not louder than the latter.  The noise only wins the day because I choose to listen to it.  Try as I may, when I walk into the room, the first thing I hear is death and not life.  I wonder, no I know, that this happens in our lives.  In a world filled with wonder and life, if we are not careful, we only hear a world heading south. Instead of hearing a baby’s first cry or a robin’s spring song, we choose to listen to brokenness, loss, and death.

I know I have a choice with the old clock, I am just struggling to choose wisely.  It must have been that way for Adam and Eve when God came to the garden each day to visit.  Genesis, the first book in the Old Testament part of the Bible, says that they would hear God walking in the garden in the cool of the day.  It was a sound they used to run to but now it caused them to run away.  Sin, their sin, had gotten in the way.  If you find yourself running from what you used to run to, maybe just maybe, something has gotten in the way. Perhaps you are hearing the noise of dying instead of the song of living.

The answer for the old clock is a new motor and the answer for us is new heart or maybe a new or adjusted perspective.  If you’ve not discovered the joy of believing in God, check Him out.  You will find a song you’re sure to like.  For some of us, it might be an adjustment in our hearing, choosing to hear the song and not the noise.  Regardless, we have one confident assurance…He loves us and cares for us and no matter what, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, Integrity, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials, wisdom

What Lurks Beneath the Surface

Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts!     And see if there be any grievous way in me.” Psalm 139:23-24

There was something stinky right below the surface.  There were a lot of things I just didn’t know or understand growing up, but that was ok because my world was pretty low key.  Looking back, maybe, perhaps those were some of my favorite memories in this journey called life. This was especially true in the years before junior high.  As an elementary age kid, it was sunup to sundown adventures. Little did I know that something was brewing right beneath my feet.

We lived in the country which meant no city water or sewer.  In fact, I think I can safely say I didn’t even know there was such a thing.  We had a well and pump in our backyard and that is where our water came from, and I thought that is what everyone did.  We also had something called a septic tank.  That handled all the, uh, waste, from the Taylor Tribe.  There were two things I didn’t know. First, I didn’t know we had one and second, I didn’t know it was right under our back porch.  All that changed when one day big truck pulled into our yard.  It turns out they were there to “pump out our septic tank.”  Now anything that was big and mechanical I was all about.  I watched in amazement as they moved some dirt and pried this huge, heavy slab of concrete off an equally huge tank thing.

It was just about then, I decided to back up because whatever was in there was not cool.  They put a big hose in that tank thing and began to suck it all out.  Now I know this is a bit gross but stay with me.  So, the tank was empty, and they slid the lid back in place and off they went. Well, soon I forgot the big truck and forgot about the thing under our porch.  Months later, I was playing in our backyard, and I noticed that water was bubbling up from the ground…not in one place but several.  And, soon, my nose took me back to what was under the porch.  It turned out that thing under the porch had what was called a drain field…and it wasn’t working. And because it wasn’t working…what was hidden beneath the ground soon wasn’t. The stinky was revealed.

Well, afford it or not, like it or not, they came and dug up a big part of our backyard and replaced the old clay tile pipes with new ones. It was all pretty interesting and soon the holes were covered up and the equipment moved on and magically, the stinky was gone.  Looking back, I think it was funny that something so funky and yucky could be right there beneath my feet and I never knew it…until it came to the surface.  And once it started to bubble up…what was hidden no longer was.

I’ve lived long enough now to know what was true in my backyard is true in life.  So often we allow some foul stuff to hang around in our lives.  You know, secret sins, bad habits, and destructive addictions—stuff rolling around in our minds or banging around in our hearts.  We manage to keep it all under control, “under the ground,” until one day…it bubbles to the surface, and you find yourself wondering, “Where did that come from?”  Worse than that, people start wondering the same thing.  You can take it to the bank that secrets often don’t remain secret.  Moses, yup, the guy who led God’s people out of Egypt, said that we can be sure our sin, or our habits, or our addictions will be found out…they will eventually come to the surface.

What I learned about septic tanks as a kid is true today too.  They needed regular maintenance and sometimes repair to function right.  We need the same.  We need to regularly examine our heart and our conscience to see if there is anything we need to get “pumped” out.  If we are God followers, we need to have the courage to ask Him to check out what lurks below the surface of our lives.  One of the writers of the Psalms in the Old Testament part of the Bible said, “Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me.”

Some prayers are harder to pray than others…and this is one of those.  Search me, know me, try me…know my thoughts.  Giving God permission (though He really doesn’t need it) to pry into your stuff is hard but profitable. I mean, the prying isn’t for Him…it is for you.  It helps you be a better you.  Oh, and don’t worry…you can’t surprise Him.  The big surprise is when you hear Him say, “Oh all that stuff, no problem.  I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture, thankful

The Bloat Load

In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace, which He lavished upon us.” Ephesians 1:8

More is better.  I know, I know…that is a flawed philosophy because sometimes more is just more but often…more is better.  I am a foodie.  I like food and food likes me.  To me food is more than nourishment…food is like a warm blanket on a cold night and because of that I sometimes ask for…more.  When my wife Judy and I were much younger for a special treat we would go to Shoney’s for supper. It didn’t happen often, not because we didn’t like it but because our very limited budget said no. On an even rarer occasion we would get desert…either strawberry pie or chocolate ice cream cake.  When the choice was the latter, I would ask the serve to “smother” it with extra hot fudge and usually, they would.  The cake would come baptized in hot fudge. Can someone say, “Amen?”

More can indeed be better.  I’ve never been too shy about asking for more.  One time I was at our local restaurant. We were and are regulars there and whenever I ordered something that had french fries, I would ask them to be sure and add a few extra.  I know, my Momma surely taught me better and Judy was mortified but I did it and it worked.  My plate would come and sure enough…there were french fries enough to feed half the kids in Africa.  I would then douse them with ketchup and well, it was good.  More can be better.

On one particular visit I decided to change my approach, so I asked the server for a “boat load” of french fries.  I wasn’t sure how much a “boat load” was but I was sure it was more and yes; more can be better.  Well, it worked and once again my BBQ sandwich was accompanied with what had to be a five-pound bag of french fries. As we finished our meal, our server brought our ticket by.  Now, I’m one of those people who don’t normally even look at the ticket…I just assume it is right.  But this day I did…and I was glad.

No, the amount wasn’t wrong but what she wrote was hilarious.  She was probably not familiar with my southern humor or word pictures because she didn’t write “boat load,” she had written, wait for it, “bloat load.”  Even now as I write this a smile creeps across my face because it was both accurate and funny.  I am sure by the time I finished off the enormous pile of fried potatoes, I was most certainly, “bloated.”  Wrong word—right message!  And yes, sometimes more is better.

I know that is true with God.  In my Jesus journey, I have discovered that He is a “bloat load” God.  Mercy…bloat load. Kindness…bloat load. Love…bloat load. Patience…bloat load. Grace…mega bloat load.  In fact, I like the way Paul, one of the big players in the New Testament part of the Bible put it.  He said, “In Him [that’s Jesus] we have redemption [that’s rescue from our hot mess sin] through His blood [that’s the cross], the forgiveness [that means charges dropped] of our trespasses, according to the riches [that means a lot] of His grace, which He lavished [that means “bloat load”] upon us.” Wow. Now that is good news.

I thought it was always cool when the server accommodated my “more is better” request.  At the minimum they didn’t scorn me and at the most…well I received more and as you know…more can be better.  But nothing matches God.  The only place that God is a little stingy is in the wrath department.  Oh, He is just, and He is holy, but His preference is that each of us, all of us, come to Him and receive His grace.  After all, He did say He loved the whole world and after all He send His Son to die for that world on a Roman cross.  Can someone say, “bloat load?”

So, more can be better…especially if it involves hot fudge and french fries.  Oh, and more is always better when it involves the mercy, kindness, love, patience, and grace of my Dearest Father.  He wants you to be able to call Him Father also…just ask and He will lavish His great grace all over you and call you His own.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, Military memories, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials

It’s A New…

Yet true godliness with contentment is itself great wealth. 7 After all, we brought nothing with us when we came into the world, and we can’t take anything with us when we leave it.” 1 Timothy 6:6-7

It was a dumb decision.  When it comes to cars…I just seem to be inherently dumb.  Naw…that’s probably too strong.  I think I am just unwise.  My first new car was a 1973 Volkswagen Super Beetle. I was so proud of that car. It was bright orange with a black racing stripe, and I had even jazzed it up some.  I added exhaust headers, dual point ignition, a two-barrel carburetor, and an under-dash AM-FM radio, cassette player.  Shoot that thing…it was so cool.  And then…I got bored.  Here’s a warning.  When you get bored with your car, do not under any circumstances go to a car lot.  Well, I did and even when the credit union said no, the nice man at the dealership said yes.  My payments went from $83.00 per month to $135.00 per month which doesn’t sound bad till you realize I was in the Air Force and only making about $400 a month.

I think that whole deal turned out pretty good.  When I met my wife Judy, I think she was impressed with my 5-speed Toyota Corona SE and later when we got orders for Germany, we were able to sell it and just about break even.  I wish I could tell you I learned my lesson but sometimes, and especially when it comes to cars, I am just a slow learner.  And when the car bug bites—Katie bar the door.  The year was 2001.  We were just beginning our ministry at a new church and getting settled into a new house and a new town.  On September 11th of that year the terrorists knocked down the twin towers in New York and our country was stunned.  To boost the economy President Bush encouraged the carmakers to get America back on the road again.  He also encouraged people to go out and buy a new car.  So, I did. Twice.

I asked Judy what she thought about buying a car and not surprisingly she was totally against it.  However, we had money in the bank from selling our previous home, and so I went to the dealership and came home with a new car.  It was brand-new Pontiac Grand Am and I got it with 2% financing.  “Yay” I said…for a while.  After owning the car for about six months or so, I noticed there was whine when the air conditioning was on.  They checked it out and said it was normal.  Well, I knew it wasn’t normal, so I went back…several times.  Finally, the guy who sold me the car in the first place told me to come and he would “work something out.”  This isn’t going to end well, is it?

I went in and I just assumed he was going to give me full credit for the car since in my eyes it was “defective.”  Well, he didn’t and by this time I was up to my eyeballs with “I.Want.It-itis.”  Yup, I traded my new car in, took a big loss, and bought another new car…one that was a little bigger and, of course, a little more expensive.  It was a bad deal from start to finish.  I felt so bad about it, and the fact I was in debt, that I depleted a chunk of our savings to go ahead and pay it off.  I thought it would make me feel better.  It didn’t.  I told you I was a slow learner.

The really, sad, sad part of this story is that about a year later I wrecked the car and because of depreciation I could only replace it with an older used car.  But…there is light at the end of this tunnel.  You see, that was almost twenty years ago and while I have bought and sold cars several times…I never again made the mistake of buying a new car.  I discovered that you could buy a four- or five-year-old car for about half the price of a new one.  How about that?  I also relearned the important principle of BBQ grills. A long time ago, I heard a guy teaching and he said, “Don’t look for a new BBQ grill unless you are ready to buy a new grill.”  That’s good advice, and it applies to many areas of life.

There’s a lot to be said for contentment. The Bible says, “True godliness with contentment is itself great wealth. After all, we brought nothing with us when we came into the world, and we can’t take anything with us when we leave it.”  I was speaking at my church recently and reached this conclusion.  I said, “We need to learn two things.  First, Jesus is enough. Second, the world is never enough.”  That alone is worth your time in reading this story.

The truth is the things that really bring satisfaction can’t be bought in a store…they are free.  And at the top of that list is a relationship with Creator God.  That will cost you nothing because Jesus paid that price a long time ago.  If you seek satisfaction anywhere else, it will cost you and it just won’t satisfy.  Someone said there is a God shaped hole in the life of every man, woman, and child.  We can try and stuff other things in that hole, but it will always fall short.

So, I hope my car misadventures will help you learn and avoid the hard way.  And I hope you will give God a try.  Remember, don’t confuse church and religion with a relationship with God.  One of the things that makes my life worth living is that He is my Dearest Father, and He loves me 100%—100% of the time.  He will never leave me…even when I make those less than wise decisions.  And when I fail and fall…He is always there with the assurance that “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Trials

Patience 101 – Repeating the Class

Finishing is better than starting. Patience is better than pride.” Ecclesiastes 7:8

And I thought I was just going out to eat! Just a couple of weeks ago, a couple of good friends invited my wife Judy and I to go out and eat.  It sounded like a special gig.  A restaurant located in a small town, oh, about 15 miles from our small town, had invited a renowned chef to come in and cook that evening.  My friend had received an invitation right from the owner’s lips to come and experience it and he invited us.  Now I am not much of a gourmet nor is gourmet food my deal.  To ring my bell, all you need to do is serve up some meat and mashed potatoes and another starch or two and I’m in.  Even so, it was chance to spend some time with these good friends…so we made a date.

They said they would make some reservations which for Southern Illinois is kinda unusual.  All we SI people do is show up and eat.  But I can be partial to reservations…especially if it keeps me from waiting.  So, with the idea this was a special thing for a small group of special people and with the safeguard of reservations, I was looking forward to our Friday night gig.  Oh, and a bonus was the fact this was Friday night of Valentine’s weekend and Judy said this could count as “date night.”  Sweet.  Can’t fail. In the bag. And then…the school bell rang.

As we drove from our small town to the other small town, the car was filled with chatty talk. Nice and easy…just the way I like it.  As we approached the restaurant, I noticed there were quite a few cars but that wasn’t totally unusual.  It was when we got to the door that usual went out the window. The small foyer, the area around the check-in stand and the restaurant was packed to the gills.  At that brief moment, my countenance may have sagged just a little. But since we had reservations…it was no deal.  And then the school bell rang.

One of my friends checked us in and came back with the news—forty-five minutes to an hour.  Wait. What?  I said, “But don’t we have reservations?”  Well, no.  It turns out only parties of eight can get those cherished promises of a quicker sit-down.  So, that is how God enrolled me, once again, into the school of patience.  So, there I sat in the small foyer with what seemed like a thousand other people. Some were there to enjoy the gourmet chef, and some were there for a fish dinner.  It didn’t matter. I was in the school of patience. My Dearest Daddy knew I had some learning to do in the patience department and He had enrolled me.

Well, our time in class turned into about two and half hours and when we finally ate almost all of the gourmet food was gone and I had a hamburger…which by the way was just fine with me. At the end of the evening, an unseen hand handed me my test.  There at the top of the page was a well-earned, unqualified, no doubt about it—F.  Yup I had failed again.  And the bad news is, this is required curriculum…which meant there would be other classes…other opportunities…for me to learn and get tested.  Rats.  I should have studied more.  I should have prepared more. I should have done something or anything, but I didn’t. Class dismissed.  See you next time, pal.

Now with all that said, it was a good evening.  I still got to be with my wife and friends.  I did occasionally smile and engage in conversation.  Oh, and the burger was really pretty good and, wait for it, my friend paid the tab.  I think he did it out of sympathy and compassion.  Regardless, it was kind. So, when we got home, I sat down and relaxed, confessed my failing grade to my Father and vowed to do better.  We will see.  We will see.  This is one area that this Jesus journeyman is a little slow to learn and God ain’t gonna let it go. Solomon, one of the smart guys from the Old Testament Bible said, “Finishing is better than starting. Patience is better than pride.” Boy, he hit that one on the head.  Looking back, I should have remembered, I should have believed that thing that I write every time I write, “He’s got this,” because…He does. Bro. Dewayne

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

Confession

So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus.” Romans 8:1

It was the summer of my rebellion.  I know, some people are born compliant, and some are born a little on the rebellious side.  I was born compliant.  I have always been a rule keeper—well, at least most of the time.  I suppose that is why I took to religion so well.  You see religion is all about keeping the rules.  The idea is if you keep enough of the rules then people will like you and most importantly, God will like you.  And sure enough, it worked—well, at least part one worked.  In my younger years, most of the adults thought I was a good boy.  Church? Got it.  Drinking? Not a drop.  Drugs?  Nope. I can hear them saying it now, “That Dewayne is such a nice boy.”  And, I suppose outwardly I looked pretty good, but pretty good won’t get you to heaven.

You see the second part of the religion mantra is that you can make God happy by performing—by keeping the rules.  That one is 100% false.  There is no one, except Jesus, that was good enough to go to heaven.  Yet it seems so many church people say they believe that rules won’t get you to heaven but act as if they will. They carefully do this and that and boy, if you happened to be one of the ones who didn’t keep the rules, you were tried, convicted, and sentenced.  That’s why I had to keep my cussing summer quiet.

I think maybe all the rule keeping must have finally got to me.  The bottom line is during the summer between my junior and senior years of high school—I started cussing.  I had a job at an apartment complex down the road from our house and I worked with the son of the head maintenance man.  He was not a Jesus person, and he did like to cuss.  So, one day, I just started cussing too.  I had heard enough cuss words at school to know most of them, so I didn’t have to have any lessons…though I did have to work on my voice inflections.

It was a very tricky time in my life because I had to turn the cussing on at 8:00 am and I had to be sure and turn it off at 5:00pm.  That’s what you have to do when you are living a double life.  Under no circumstances did I want to spoil my good boy image at church or with my Momma and Daddy. I do remember one time I let a small one slip and Momma looked at me with eyes that said, “Where did that come from?” Of course, I didn’t, I couldn’t let her know that her baby son was a cusser.

And, as quickly as it came, it passed.  At the end of the summer, I had to go back to school and therefore had to quit my job.  All I know is that the cussing stopped and my rule keeping world got a little easier.  I managed to please a lot of people, but I knew I was far from pleasing God.  It would be several more years before I finally figured out that rule keeping didn’t work and religion didn’t either.  When I was 21, I finally found grace and boy was that a game changer.  Honestly, it is taking me a long time to shake the deep roots of rule keeping and religion.  I’m still working on it.

You might ask, “How do you know if you are under the influence of religion and rule keeping?”  Well, its two main indicators are self-condemnation and a tendency to judge others.  Rule keepers are acutely aware when they or others around them break a rule.  Rule keepers (and religious people) like to point out other people’s sins and faults because it makes them feel better about themselves.  If they can make you feel bad, then it makes them feel better.  It’s a twisted world.

God’s way is so much better than religion and rules.  Did you know His Book, the Bible, actually says that when someone believes in Jesus and becomes one of His followers that there is no condemnation—none—nada?  I mean when the prosecuting attorney and the judge both acquit you—the trial is over.  I’m slowly learning just how valuable that is.  There is an audience of One that Jesus followers must live for and that is God…their Heavenly Father…their Abba Father…their Dearest Daddy.  I love what Toby Mac (a contemporary Christian singer) said, “I gave God a million reasons not to love me.  Not one of them changed His mind.”  I like that!

Well, I’m glad my cussing summer is ancient history.  I still look back at those two or three months and wonder what in the world was I was thinking?  The truth is…I probably wasn’t.  But now, by grace, that, and all my other failures, warts and sins are forgiven…all because of Jesus.  I’m so grateful for that. If you have never discovered grace and forgiveness, especially God’s kind, I hope you will check it out.  Don’t get confused with religion and rule keeping like I did.  God’s got something far, far, better than that.  Think you’ve messed up too much to be forgiven?  Nope…don’t give it a second thought.  Trust me…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, food, forgiveness, friends, Grace, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Warning Signs

The prudent see danger and take refuge, but the simple keep going and suffer for it.” Proverbs 27:12

This is the kind of story I don’t like writing.  Since some of you know me and some of you don’t, I’ll start by saying that I have issues.  Yup…and more than one.  With that said, this story is about my health issues.  All my life I have had this battle with my weight.  Although people say I wear it well, I pack more baggage than I need to carry on this trip called life. Consequently, most of the time I am either on the way up…or on the way down.  That’s just the way it is.  And honestly, it is all about—sugar.

You see, I love snacks, and, I love sweet snacks.  Now I’m not talking about candy though I’m not saying I would turn down a Butterfinger.  No, I like the baked stuff and I am an equal opportunities eater.  Pies, cakes, donuts, cookies, brownies, cinnamon rolls—if it is baked and sweet—count me in.  To help counter the calories, I do try and exercise—at least some.  In fact, at the beginning of 2021 I managed to walk a couple of miles a day, five and six times a week for months.  Yay for me…but then something happened.  However, and whatever the cause, sometime in late fall I quit and when I quit—it happened.  The flat-out truth is I started gaining girth like a snowball going downhill.

Well, I did what any self-respecting foodaholic does—I just quit getting on the scale and, oh yes, I quit checking my blood sugar too.  Did I mention that I am a diabetic? Did you also know that donuts, cake, pie, cookies, and brownies don’t go with diabetes? But don’t worry, I’m not a severe diabetic. That’s another way you quit doing the right thing.  You simply justify your behavior. A guy said this week that justifying is “just a lying.” Ouch.

I was a recipe, no pun intended, for disaster.  I could tell I wasn’t doing well.  I could feel my body saying, “Excuse me.”  After binge eating on whatever was sweet one recent Sunday, I got on the scale on Monday.  Holy moly.  I also checked my blood sugar on Monday. Holy moly the second time.  Good grief.  I was so frustrated with myself.  I didn’t even have to ask; how did it happen?  I knew…all too well. In fact, a friend asked me what I did to end up there.  I told him the answer was, “What didn’t I do?”

Here’s the deal.  You know those red lights and crossing guards at railroad crossings?  Do you know the consequences when you ignore them?  Well, I ignored the lights and the crossing guard and the easiest way to do that was just quit—quit weighing and quit sticking your finger.  Anybody can tell you the truth of this. To start down the wrong path just STOP doing the things that help you be accountable.  Maybe, your AA meetings.  Maybe your exercise.  Maybe going to church.  Maybe reading your Bible.  Well, the list goes on and on.

I stumbled on a really, good verse in the book of Proverbs.  It says a wise person will see danger and take cover.  A foolish (or inexperienced) person will see the same danger and keep right on going.  That’s a good verse. No, that’s a great verse. What about you, what is it in your life right now that you can see the red lights flashing and the crossing guard down?  More importantly, what are going to do with it?  Trust me…it is really important.  You see that decision will determine your regrets and consequences.  Remember that “holy moly” moment I wrote about? Yup, that’s the deal.

The answer is simple.  Stop saying tomorrow and start today.  There’s a saying I just love—when you are tempted to stop, just remember why you started.  I know I’m only just started but already I can feel and see a difference. When I visit my doctor again in about three months, I hope we can have a different conversation than the one we had recently. I am grateful that my body still responds to doing the right things.  And for me it is relatively easy…at least with these two things.  But trust me there are other things that are a daily battle.

The good news is I have Someone who stays by my side…as the Bible says, a friend closer than a brother.  Who would that be?  My Dearest Daddy.  He is for me and never against me.  He has things planned for me that are too good to miss. I know this season of COVID has messed with our spiritual stuff badly.  But I hope you will make the decision, today, to “get back on the scale.”  Your Heavenly Father will be there to help.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, friends, gratitude, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, wisdom

Chatting With the Father

And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper.” 1 Kings 19:12

“What was that, again?”  Last week we had a winter storm.  Though it wasn’t as nasty as they said it was going to be it was still more than enough to warrant staying off the roads and in the house. Turns out, it was a two day in the house deal.  Well, we had an invitation to go eat dinner with a couple on Friday night, but it looked like the weather was going to nix that.  Another good friend was invited to go and frankly, I was disappointed when it looked like it wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t sure the roads would be safe. I mean, this was one of those good invites…great friends and great food.  So, my wife Judy and I were thrilled when she called and said it looked like the roads were going to be clear enough…so Friday night we were off and running.

Judy sat up front and I was in the backseat.  Our friend owns one of those Toyota off road things…you know, the kind that would be at home in a safari in Africa so trust me the roads were not going to stop us.  I told her we should go four-wheeling before the night was over. Smile. So, anyway, soon we were on our way.  Now, her vehicle may be made to conquer Africa, but it is not made for conversation…especially for those in the backseat.  I was content to just ride but several times a question or something came from the front seat, directed my way.  The result was a “Huh,” or a “What?”

You see, first, I do have some hearing loss.  There are some frequencies that I hear perfect and some that I just don’t.  Usually, questions from my wife fall in the latter category.  Second, her Africa eating vehicle had those tires that like to sing…loudly. Third, there was a pretty good portion of wind noise and finally, I was in the back seat, and they were in the front seat facing away from me.  The bottom line, there wasn’t going to be a lot of conversation…at least not any that involved me.  It was true going…and it was true coming home. All that was fine by me except when it was a question requiring an answer and then well, we were back to the “Huh,” and “What’s.”  I must confess it was just a hair frustrating.

I wasn’t surprised…with that much interference a person with good hearing would probably have struggled.  You put enough interference out there and nobody can hear anything.  That is true with people and wait for it, it is equally true with God.  I believe in prayer…not the wish list kind but the kind where I get to know God better. I believe in prayer…the kind where I can chat with my Dearest Daddy.  No, it is not formal, but it is respectful.  The one thing I forget too often is that it is a conversation, going both ways.  I do the part of me speaking very well…I just don’t do the part of me listening as well.  Sometimes I forget that He probably has more to say to me than I do to Him.  How interesting.

Another thing is that interference thing.  Just like my experience in my friend’s “over the river and through the woods” vehicle, so too often there is plenty of interference between me and my Father.  Yesterday’s sin and failures, today’s plans and worries about tomorrow all tend to speak loudly in my mind and heart and if I am not careful…drown out His voice.  You see God often is more of a whisperer than a shouter and trust me His whispers are worth hearing. One time, He was talking with one of His prophets.  There were all kind of big things going on, a fierce wind, fire, and earthquake and yet God didn’t speak through those…instead, He whispered.

So let me encourage you to take the time to get away, get quiet and get still.  When you get there have a chat…not filled with big and flowery words but words from a sincere heart spoken directly to a Dearest Father who loves you more than you can imagine.  Then be sure and give Him a moment or two speak into the conversation.  Listen carefully for He might speak softly.  He will whisper His love and probably just assure you that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, Integrity, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Your Slip is Showing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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