Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, school days, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, wisdom

Dinner on the Grounds

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

There’s lunch and then there is dinner on the grounds.  Church and I were a good fit from the get-go.  The schools I attended were always large and it was easy for someone to get lost in the crowd.  The bottom line seemed to be you had to be either really good or really bad to get recognized.  If you were really good at sports, for example, then a lot of people knew your name.  If you were really bad at life, well people knew your name, but it was the wrong people.  You might remember the categories in your yearbook that named people to be the most likely to do something.  Some were just destined not to be remembered. That was probably me.

I was one of those guys who just wandered around in the gray social midst at school but not so at church.  The churches I attended were like the three bears and their beds. One was too big; one was too small, and one was just right.  They were big enough to have fun, and I suppose learn a little about Jesus, and yet not too big.  I managed to be accepted by my peers and even the adults thought I was cool. So church was a good fit but that isn’t the main reason why I liked it.  I was grateful for the social acceptability, and I even appreciated the Bible stories and learning about Jesus, but in those days, I was in it for…the food.

You see, several times a year we would have meals at church. There were two things that you could count on.  First, they were always potlucks.  Now, in case you don’t know what a potluck dinner is, first, where have you been?  No seriously, a potluck is when everyone brings something for dinner.  It is one of the greatest inventions in the food world.  Imagine the world’s best buffet—meats, casseroles, vegetables, breads, starches, and the motherlode of all motherlodes—dessert. I can still remember there being tables—as in more than one—of nothing but desserts.  It was like food heaven. We still do this every once in a while, at our church so if you ever hear of this happening, even if you don’t like God, you need to come to church that Sunday.  One word says it all—cowabunga! If you need more than one word—here’s three “shoot that thing.”

The second thing that was just cool was in the old days’ churches would build permanent tables outside to hold all this food.  Often, they would have a tin roof over them.  You could line up on both sides and let her rip.  We always had those big plates, and you were obligated to fill them up.  Then, you would just go find yourself a place in the grass and sit down and eat…and eat…and eat.  It truly was one of my favorite times at church.  The food and the fellowship (being with all the people) was just amazing.  We have a ministry at our church where if a member of a family dies, we provide lunch for them on the day of the funeral. It is like a mini potluck and our ladies do such a wonderful job.  I’ve already asked them if I can have my dinner before I go so I can enjoy the meal.  I’m still working on that one.

You see, there are lots of reasons to attend church and like I said in my early years’ food was a good reason.  I have another reason now too. I’m the pastor.  It’s kinda expected that I will attend. But here’s the truth.  I don’t go now for the food…I go because I want to go. Yup…I don’t have to go to church, I get to go to church.  It is so good because some of the people I love the most are there.  And guess what? Some of the people that are a little harder to love are there too but that doesn’t matter because we have one thing in common—we all are pretty fond of God.

But wait, it gets better.  Guess what?  He is really fond of us.  He loved and loves everyone so much that He sent His Son to earth—we call that Christmas.  He also loved and loves everyone so much that He allowed Him to die on a Roman cross—we call that Good Friday.  It was bad for Him that day, but it was good for us because that day He paid the price for all the things all of us have done that offend His Father.  But wait…that isn’t the end.  After three days, He came back to life—we call that Easter, and it is a documented fact that it happened.  Pretty amazing.

Well, I am grateful for all the good food and other things that happen at church.  But I am so grateful for God, my Dearest Daddy, loving me that much and remember, He loves you that much too.  If you want to know more, I hope you will get a copy of His Book the Bible—it’s been a best seller for centuries—really.  Something I have learned is that it is a great idea to have God on your side.  It’s just good to know that He is there and will be there no matter what.  No, He isn’t Santa Claus just waiting to give you everything on your list.  No, He isn’t a Genie just waiting for you to rub His lamp.  He is God, He is real, and He wants to make a difference in your world.  Why not give Him a try?  You’ll find that no matter what you face, He will face it with you. I’ve learned that every day, no matter what, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in birthday, Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

Toys-R-Me

Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.” Philippians 4:11

You just had to look around.  When I was growing up, somewhere and sometime between January and December, the bought toys from my birthday and Christmas slowly disappeared. I know some kids take extremely good care of their toys.  I had an adult friend once who took me down in his parent’s basement and there on the shelves were toys from when he was a small boy…all in perfect condition. They looked new though they were fifty years old.  Well, my toys just didn’t fair that well.  I don’t think I was overly harsh with them, but I was adventurous, and I did enjoy taking things apart.

So, the question is, “What do you do when the toys from the store are scarcer than teeth on a hen?  The answer is, “You get creative.”  I wonder how many times I wandered over to one of the building sites across the street from my house and “borrowed” a couple of the surveyor sticks they had put out.  The shorter wedge cut ones made great rubber band guns and the thinner, taller ones made awesome “dirt clod” launchers.  The technique was simple…you simply stuck the end of the stick in the dirt and gave it a swift kick.  Instantly, a dirt clod was on its way to either a target or the kid down the street.  Boy was that fun, though looking back I’m sure the surveyor guys didn’t appreciate their sticks disappearing.

Sometimes, a new toy was just laying around.  That was the age of hula hoops, and they made great “ant bombers.”  All you had to do was check and make sure your sister wasn’t watching, find a way to cut the hula hoop in half, get some matches and you were all set.  Then you had to light one end of the hula hoop which would begin to burn and melt.  As the plastic melted, it dripped to the ground sizzling and burning…the perfect ant bomber.  I must confess a lot of good ants lost their lives that way but don’t worry.  You see sometimes they got me with their stingers before I got them with my firebombs.  Boy…that was fun.

Then, of course, you could make your very own train.  There was always a length of chain laying around the yard and there was always plenty of good, ole soft Florida sand.   All you had to do was grab that chain and drag it through the sand behind you. As you did the sand got pushed aside and chain left a track in the sand. Round and round and up and down we would go leaving tracks everywhere. I can’t tell you how many times and how many hours we played making “train tracks.”

If all else failed, you could sneak into “Daddy’s tool shed.” It was attached to the house and honestly was more of a junk shed than a tool shed but there was cool stuff laying around everywhere.  I remember Daddy had a bunch of one-pound cans of either freon or something like that.  It would attach to a contraption that had a trigger.  It was made to spray liquids from a small glass container.  I discovered if you mashed that trigger the freon coming out would instantly make ice.  It was amazing.  So, I found out that if you got tired of “fire-bombing” the ants, you could freeze them.  Now, don’t call the animal rights people…it was just part of growing up.

I could keep going on, but you probably get the idea that there was plenty to do around the old homestead…and it really was fun.  Back in those days’ television, especially during the day or early afternoon consisted of soap operas or game shows…neither of which was exciting for a young boy.  So, I could learn to like them…NOT…or get creative.  I could have sat around and complained because I didn’t have what other kids had…or get creative.  Well, I chose to get creative…and I am glad I did.  Some of my best memories were out in the backyard just figuring out how to have a little fun.

So, how about you?  Do you find you are discontented and bored with life?  Do you find yourself bemoaning what others have and what you don’t?  Could I suggest that you look “in your backyard” and see what might be there?  It might be an evening drive with the family.  It might be sitting under the tree having some tea or coffee just sittin’ and listenin’. It might be playing with the kids or waving at the cars going by.  Whatever, you might just find some unexpected pleasure…you might find a little peace…you might find a little contentment.  My friend Paul from the New Testament said he had learned to be content wherever and whatever he was doing.  I think that is something all of us need to learn.  Need a little help?  I know I do.  That’s when my Dearest Daddy often shows up just to let me know that He loves me and that no matter what, “He’s got this.”   Bro. Dewayne

Posted in birthday, Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

One Long Day

Let us not get tired of doing good, for we will reap at the proper time if we don’t give up.” Galatians 6:9

It was a long day, one of those days that seem to stretch into eternity. My wife, Judy, often asks me about my day when I come home from work, and sometimes I respond, “It was one long day.” On Fridays or Saturdays, when I’m busy with household chores, the day feels endless, and I tell Judy, “What a great long day today.” The perception of the day often depends on its circumstances.

June 6th, 1944 is a date many recognize as the Allied invasion of Normandy during World War II, the beginning of the end of that conflict. It was a massive undertaking with an uncertain outcome, and someone referred to it as “the longest day.”

We all have our “longest days,” and 2020 might have felt like 366 of them. Some days make us mourn, while others are worth celebrating. January 24th holds a special place for my wife and me as our first daughter was born on that day, exactly forty-three years ago today.

The labor started late Thursday evening, and as Judy opted for minimal medical intervention, it became a challenging process. The hours turned into a marathon, and I, the faithful husband, stayed by her side throughout. Well, almost. There was that one time when a friend brought me a massive burger and fries, and I obliviously enjoyed them while Judy glared. I was thinking about food, not labor pains.

As the clock ticked, we progressed into the evening, and Rebecca decided to delay her grand entrance. Finally, around midnight, Dr. Dickerson announced it was time, and, coincidentally, the cheesy Japanese monster movie we were watching ended. In the delivery room, Rebecca made her grand appearance, and the longest day ended. Judy endured 23 hours of labor, and our precious daughter weighed 8 lbs. 15.5 ounces.

For years, we’ve fondly recalled that longest day—Judy’s longest day. For me, it involved burgers, fries, and Godzilla. Yet, it marked the day God blessed us with our first daughter, setting the stage for two more daughters and eight grandchildren.

When facing your longest day, remember a couple of things. Every day is a gift from the Creator God, and if you allow Him to guide you, you can not only endure but thrive. The finish line may seem elusive, but it will come if you persist.

Paul, a New Testament writer, knew about enduring long days, although not labor pains. He encouraged not getting tired of doing good, promising a harvest if we don’t give up. Whether or not you follow Jesus, the advice stands—don’t give up. God is there to help you through each day, including your longest one. Rest assured, “He’s got this.” – Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, life, love, priorities, school days, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful

Missing a Grade

I remember the days of old; I meditate on all You have done; I reflect on the work of Your hands.” Psalm 143:5

I’m not sure why…but there’s a gap. When I started school in Jacksonville, Florida there was no kindergarten.  It was like one day you were at home and then you weren’t.  My first four grades of elementary school were at Wesconnett Elementary School and the last two were at a brand-new school—Jacksonville Heights Elementary School. Unlike Wesconnett, that required a bus ride, the new school was only blocks down the road from my house. 

Wesconnett was old…really old. It was all brick and hot with no air conditioning. That is one reason why we didn’t start school till after Labor Day.  I remember it having large paned windows, oak floors, and tall ceilings.  Hundreds of footsteps would echo through those halls. And, to a little kid like me, it was big—like huge.  It was at Wesconnett that I met and fell in love for the first time.  She was older than me—my first-grade teacher—Mrs. Jones.  And, like the song from the seventies says, “we had a thing going on” or at least I did.  She was pretty (at least from my seven-year-old perspective) and she was nice.  I became her number one eraser cleaner.  But soon, it was time to move on.  So, I passed first grade, and it was so long Mrs. Jones.

By second grade I was a veteran.  A lot of the insecurities were gone, and I met Mrs. Webb.  She, like Mrs. Jones, was a kind teacher.  I think, though I am not sure, that my sister and I had our tonsils out about then and she had all the kids write me get well cards.  I can still remember how special it was to receive that big envelope from my classmates. Thank you, Mrs. Webb.  Third grade meant yet another teacher…this time Mrs. Wilson.  Now I don’t mean this in a mean way but she kind of reminded me of one of the witches from “The Wizard of Oz.”  She was an older lady and wore her hair in a tight bun and was quite stern.  I didn’t clean Mrs. Wilson’s erasers.  But looking back, she was a good teacher and she helped us learn and that is what mattered.  I managed to pass again, so soon it was so long Mrs. Wilson.

Fifth grade meant a new school (with air conditioning—smile) and yet another new teacher and her name was, get ready for it, Mrs. Slappy.  She was rather short, had bright red hair and was rather snappy.  Today I think I would use the word, “feisty.”  As I remember her class, it was fun, and I had a new responsibility.  She selected me (and a couple of others) to be trained to run the film strip projector and the movie projector.  It was a big deal.  When we were going to see a film strip or movie in class, one of us would go down and check out the equipment, set it up and operate it.  Wow…what responsibility and to think, she trusted me.  That was a big deal. Thank you, Mrs. Slappy.

My final year in elementary school, sixth grade, was a landmark year.  I had my first male teacher; Mr. Perry and I was selected to be a “patrol boy.”  Mr. Perry was, as you can imagine, a little different from Mrs. Jones in first grade but I remember him being imposing but fair.  He was a “rules” guy but if you followed the rules, you did ok.  That served me well then and really for the rest of my life.  I know it started at home but Mr. Perry reenforced it…a lesson well learned. Well, there you go, my parade of teachers. The end. Thanks for reading.

Well, not quite.  You see there was a reason I walked you through all of that.  Did you notice something? Well, if you noticed that there is a gap…you are right.  You see, for some reason, and who knows why, there is a total gap for the fourth grade.  I have absolutely no memories of my teacher, classmates, or surroundings.  I know it was Wesconnett but beyond that…zero…and that intrigues me.  I don’t know or believe it was anything bad…there is just a gap. In fact, it means that there was probably a good teacher who taught me, good friends that I met and played with and a whole year of great memories that, for some reason, I have forgotten. I.Have.Forgotten.

And that made me think.  How many other incredibly good things have I forgotten?  It seems we have no problem remembering all the bad stuff but sometimes we tend to forget the good stuff, the great stuff that comes our way.  I love writing about my days as a kid, but I wonder how many good stories I could write if I remembered all the other adventures that came my way.  How many more adventurous things came my way that …slipped away.  Hmmm.

Remembering the good always feeds gratitude and dwelling on the bad tends to feed the opposite. And, trying to fill unexplained gaps, well, can do the same.  Why don’t we celebrate the good, let the hard stuff stay in the rearview mirror and those gaps…just let them be.  I like what the writer of Psalms 145:3 said, “I remember the days of old; I meditate on all you have done; I reflect on the work of your hands.”  In other words, whether it was good, whether it was difficult or whether there is a gap, we know and celebrate one constant, “He’s got that.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

Close, But a Million Miles Apart

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

I was so close…but it was no bananas.  There is an old saying that says, “Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.” With horseshoes, get it close to the stake and you get something and with a hand grenade, well, you know how that works.  I found out recently that close can be a million miles away.  It goes like this.

So, my day job is being a pastor and teacher.  I love it…well, at least most of it.  Anyway, I really do love to preach, teach and write.  I love to find creative ways to say something with the hope that will help people understand and remember.  When I preach and teach on Sunday mornings, my sermons usually consist of three major components.  First, Scripture—and lots of it.  Far more important than what I say or what someone else says is what God said. Period. Second, I like to use the words of people smarter than me so I will usually include some quotes. Finally, I write what I call “teaching points” to expound or make the truth big and clear. It was the second one in that series of three that recently showed that you can be close and yet a million miles away.

A couple of weeks ago, I read a powerful quote that went like this, “Christians filled with the Spirit are dangerous to hell. If you’re not dangerous to hell, then you’re dangerous to the Church.” While you may not like that quote, because like a hand grenade it hits a little too close to home, it is still powerful.  It was spoken by a teacher named Rob Reiner—or so I thought. It turns out that I was one letter off on who said this.  You see, the guy who said it was named Rob Reimer…a Bible teacher.  The guy I unintentionally credited was Rob Reiner who is a long way from being a Bible teacher.  In fact, he is a comedian and played a role in the old sitcom, “All in the Family.”  In the show he was called, “Meathead.”

Now I don’t know if my source made the mistake or if I mistyped but there is one thing I know—one letter made all the difference in the world and the two men couldn’t have been more different. In this case, one small letter changed everything.  What is even crazier is that I had no idea who Rob Reiner was until someone pointed the mistake out…and I am so glad that he did. 

As you do life, let’s remember that small things do in fact matter.  Whether it is when we read the word or when we say what someone said, let’s be sure we get it right. People often say how the Bible teaches that money is the root of all evil but that isn’t what it says at all.  Money is neutral…money is a tool.  What the Bible says is, “The LOVE of money is the root of all evil” and that is a horse of a different color. Yup…details matter.  One letter can change everything.  Not a detail person?  No, problem.  I know someone who is…my Dearest Daddy in heaven.  He is all about details and He is always willing to help.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

Mind the Gap – Watch Your Step

Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise.” Ephesians 5:15

Mind the gap. When I watch travel shows and even when we visit London, there is always talk about the Tube—or the subway.  And you can count on one thing.  The announcer will always remind you to “Mind the Gap.” It really is just another way of saying, “Watch your step.” Another place you should always watch your step is when you are in a cow pasture. Here are a couple of cautions.  First, make sure it’s indeed a cow pasture and not one occupied by bulls. Bulls can be bullies so an immediate retreat to the nearest fence is advisable. Secondly, watch out for cow patties – trust me on this one.

There are numerous instances in life where you need to be cautious, and one such experience occurred during a hike near Bell Smith Springs. My wife, Judy, and I have taken a liking to hiking for both exercise and the chance to enjoy nature. On a previous occasion, we tackled the Sentry Ridge Trail, a three-mile loop offering scenic views of a canyon with a creek. It’s a beautiful trail, but with the beauty comes a challenge.

The trail, often rocky with large slabs of native stone, requires you to carefully watch your step. Neglecting this can lead to ankle twists, unpleasant falls, or finding yourself on the way down a wooded cliff. The risk factor though is higher or lower depending on the hiker’s perspective. Let me explain.  While I, the conqueror, focus on reaching the destination, Judy, the lady of the trail, wants to savor every detail along the way.

Though I try to indulge her, there’s a problem – looking around means not looking down. Neglecting the rocks beneath your feet can lead to trouble. While a conqueror might prefer pressing on, there’s wisdom in pausing to appreciate the journey. The joy lies in seizing moments, enjoying what’s surrounding you. While I may not need a picture of every rock and tree, acknowledging the Creator’s handiwork is essential.

Failure to pause results in missing the best parts of the trip or day. Once, during a drive, Judy pointed out the “Wolf Moon,” a massive full moon. Despite my conqueror instincts, I glanced and marveled at its magnificence. Taking time to enjoy life’s moments is crucial, and even if it drives you nuts at times, it adds joy to the journey.

Paul, one of the rock stars (no pun intended) in the New Testament, urged us to make the most of our time. This involves not just working through life but also savoring the journey. I’m grateful to be married to someone who understands this, even if it occasionally drives me nuts. So, mind your step but also take a few minutes to relish life around you. With the Creator’s help, you can. After all, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Oops, Your Slip is Showing

A good person produces good out of the good stored up in his heart. An evil person produces evil out of the evil stored up in his heart, for his mouth speaks from the overflow of the heart.” Luke 6:45

Honey, your slip is showing. Change is a constant in life, and I vividly recall my mother preparing for church back in the day. During those times, women wore a couple of additional “accessories.” First, she was a devoted user of what I believe were known as girdles – contraptions designed to keep things in check around a lady’s waist. Although I never witnessed her putting one on, I could tell when she was wearing one when I playfully poked her in the side during church. It felt as hard as a rock, suggesting the presence of the infamous “girdle.”

The other item was called a slip. A slip was worn beneath a lady’s dress to prevent anything from being visible through it. My mother was particularly concerned about her slip being visible, emphasizing the importance of keeping it a couple of inches shorter than her dress. Without a full-length mirror, she’d often ask, “Dewayne, is my slip showing?” prompting me to inspect and report. Even in the early years of my marriage, slips were still fashionable, and I’m pretty sure Judy also sought the occasional “slip report.”

Nobody, and I mean nobody, wanted to attend church with their slip showing. It was a social faux pas. However, as time passed, slips fell out of fashion, and with them, the need for slip reports disappeared. Yet, the saying lingers only with a twist. When someone tells you, “Your slip is showing,” it implies that something intended to be hidden is now visible for all to see. This phrase is applicable often in our conversations but even more so in the realm of social media today. Although I am not really a Facebook user myself, I’ve been made aware of the numerous slips on display.

The revelations on Facebook no longer shock me. People seem to blur the line between the privacy of a personal journal and the public nature of Facebook. Hurtful words are carelessly thrown around, much like a bad case of stomach flu. I vividly remember a church member writing un-Jesus like words on Facebook, only to justify it with, “Well, I didn’t know the whole world would see them.” Really? Duh.

So, when we witness unkindness on social media, perhaps it’s time to adopt a gentle approach and say, “Excuse me, but your slip is showing.” Unleashing unkind words is never justified. Momma used to say, “If you can’t say something nice…don’t say anything at all”.  She was always smart. So, whether following the golden rule of saying something nice or abiding by Jesus’ wisdom that words reveal the heart, the message is clear – choose kindness.

In the secular world, unkindness is sometimes almost expected but for followers of Jesus, such behavior is labeled as sin, irrespective of justifications. Instead of expressing displeasure with someone, why not try praying? God is always receptive to sincere prayers, and you won’t find yourself being told, “Your slip is showing.”

I admit, I’m someone who occasionally speaks without thinking, but I’m learning to hit the pause button. As they say, the older you get, the more you lose your filter. Uttering and writing things that are unkind or just not right may lead to regret and the need to apologize to God. Let’s start an “Excuse me, but your slip is showing” campaign – a subtle way of letting someone know that their communication, whether on social media or spoken, is, shall we say, embarrassing. They might not appreciate it now, but perhaps they will later. And if, like me, you struggle with putting your foot in your mouth, ask God for help. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Before Daybreak

Before daybreak the next morning, Jesus got up and went out to an isolated place to pray.” Mark 1:35

Something just wasn’t right.  You know you never know what you are going to get when you stay at a friend’s house. From the bed to what’s for breakfast, well, it’s all up for grabs.  That is especially true when it comes to the shower.  I’ve learned you just have to be flexible.  Sharing the house with my wife, three daughters and a girl dog meant that things could get pretty girly.

I am a man, so I used man soap.  It might be whatever was on sale, or it could even be Lava—that soap that grinds off the first layer of your skin.  One thing was for sure—it didn’t smell like a girl.  Then came all these women in our household along with the advent of body wash.  It wasn’t long before the Lava, he-man soap was replaced with something that smelled like roses or gardenias.  This really causes a problem when you walk into the office and smell like a garden.  The guys on staff kinda give you a strange look.

But here is the deal.  It didn’t stop with just the soap or even the shampoo.  It got down to the toothpaste.  Oh, it wasn’t that it tasted like flowers…it tasted like bubblegum.  A while back Judy and I were spending the night with our daughter and son-in-law and their kids…a couple of our grandkids.  So, anyway, I survived the sweet-smelling soap and shampoo only to discover that I was out of toothpaste.  I looked around and gratefully found a tube on the vanity.  I didn’t read the label past the part that said, “toothpaste.”

I squirted a glob on my he-man electric toothbrush and proceeded to give my teeth the once over.  About two seconds in the process, I realized that this toothpaste tasted different.  You see, I am old-fashioned.  I believe that toothpaste should taste like peppermint on steroids.  You know, the kind that when you are done you know you don’t have bad breath.  And mouthwash? It’s gotta be the same.  I like to take a big swig of Listerine and swish it around for as long as I can stand it…about five-seconds.  Well, that day was not like any of that.

As I brushed, I realized this toothpaste was sweet and gooey.  It took me a moment before I could place the taste and then it hit me.  It was bubblegum.  Now, excuse me, but who ever heard of bubblegum toothpaste? What’s next, “Snickers?” I thought the whole point of this process was to clean your teeth, not to birth a desire to blow bubbles.  What is the world coming to? Well, anyway, there was no other option, so I finished up.  I went out into the kitchen still kind of wanting to pucker my lips to blow a bubble.  And besides that—something just didn’t feel right and then it hit me.  It just didn’t feel clean…and I told Judy so.  I knew I had brushed my teeth, but it didn’t feel like I had brushed my teeth.

You know, and this probably seems weird, but that is sometimes how I feel after another of my morning habits—my quiet time.  A quiet time is when you get by yourself, read God’s Book, the Bible, maybe read what someone else wrote about God and then talk to God.  It’s God’s time to get you ready to face the day.  I know it is a good idea because Jesus did it.  More than once in the Bible we are told He got up early and went out by himself and prayed. I figure if it worked for Him, it would certainly work for me.

Now there are some days I know that what I read stuck and what I prayed got heard. Even though I couldn’t see God—I knew He was listening. But then there are the “bubblegum” days.  Days when I read and don’t remember and pray and feel like my prayers were just circling the ceiling fan. Oh I “brushed” but it just didn’t feel like it. Just like bubblegum toothpaste. Hmmm.

I know that if you want minty, well, you have to get some minty toothpaste. All the sweet gooey toothpaste in the world just won’t get the job done.  And if I want to have a God time that is going to make a difference…it must be intentional.  Not just a habit but a special time with your Heavenly Father…the One who loves you no matter what…the One who patiently waits for you…the One whose grace leaves us fresh and spiritually minty!  So, why not mark your calendar for a time tomorrow when you can meet with the One who loves you the most.  Take a moment to rest in Him and know that “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in birthday, Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Living at Mach 1

You have decided the length of our lives. You know how many months we will live, and we are not given a minute longer.” Job 14:5

No one really knew what was going to happen.  As men developed aircraft that continuously went faster and higher, an invisible wall stood in the way—the sound barrier.  Determining the speed of sound is a little tricky because several factors determine it.  The bottom line is the speed of sound at sea level and 68 degrees is 767 miles per hour. Like most Baptists, the aviation world doesn’t respond to well to the unknown.  And truth be told, no one knew what would happen when this event happened.  As it turned out, it was largely very uneventful.  It went like this.

On October 14, 1947, U.S. Air Force Captain Chuck Yeager piloted his experiential aircraft to the speed of Mach 1.06 or just over the speed of sound. Early attempts had confronted severe buffeting but this time the flight went smoothly. Despite all the fears, the transition to supersonic flight was remarkably uneventful.  Franklin Roosevelt said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself” and He was right. It reminds me of the big scare in the year 2000 when many predicted that the world’s computers would all crash because they weren’t programmed to go beyond 1999.  Again, largely nothing happened. Surprise, surprise, surprise.

Well, this past Saturday, January 6, 2024, I broke a “sound barrier” of my own. On that day I turned 70—seven decades old.  As this milestone approached, it kinda messed with my head. Oh, I know that age is just a number, but this number was getting high and coming pretty fast.  For a long time, in my way of thinking, 70 was the threshold to being genuinely old. If it wasn’t old, you could certainly see it from there. I wondered what would happen and the answer was—nothing.  It turns out age really is just a number and while seventy qualifies you as a senior adult it was not the end of the world as we know it.

All this reminded me that it really is God who holds our birthdays in His hand.  It is God who numbers our days and even plans them.  I think I’m learning that my responsibility is to trust Him and to live each day to its fullest.  Right now, and I know today doesn’t necessarily predict tomorrow, but right now I am grateful that I don’t feel—70.  I feel a bit older but that nasty age barrier, like the sound barrier, turned out to be not much of a barrier at all.  So, wherever you are in this birthday thing, just remember that if we are having birthdays, we are still breathing.  Oh, and if that should stop and you know Jesus, it simply means the best is yet to come. When your special day rolls around, remember to thank God for it and every day.  Don’t let that barrier or any barrier keep you from believing that “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

A picture is worth a thousand words.

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Happy Birthday

This is the day the Lord has made; let’s rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24

Saturday was my birthday.  Now wait.  That isn’t a hint for a gift.  It isn’t an invitation for a bunch of comments.  It is a statement of fact—and fascination.  You see, 70 years ago I was born.  I don’t say that because I remember, I say it because I am here…now.  I am amazed that over seven decades have come and gone since Leslie, my Momma, said to Alston, my Daddy, “It’s time.”  She had already done this birthing thing seven times, so I suppose it was just another day at the office by then.

Since the day I was born, I have been alive 25,567 days.  That means that 25,567 times the sun came up in the morning and went to bed at night.  It means 25,567 times God faithfully gave me a wakeup call.  One of my favorite verses in the Bible is the one that says this is the day that the Lord has made, so we should find joy in it and be glad for the opportunity.  25,567 times.  25,567 love notes from God that said He thinks life should go on.

Now there are a bunch of those days that I don’t remember.  In fact, these days I don’t remember what happened yesterday. I find some humor that as a pastor I have to pause and think about what I spoke about last week.  Sometimes it just slips my mind.  Oh course, the good news is that most people can’t remember what I said either.  One day all I will need is one sermon.  Together we will just hit the replay button.  But that day is not today.

As I look back, I am so filled with gratitude with the incredible journey that God has allowed to play out in my life.  Not every day has been that good.  I mean, the days I woke up with the stomach flu didn’t make the top 1,000.  But it has been a great journey.  My childhood, or at least the part I remember, often causes me to smile.  The more I think of my Momma and Daddy, the more I appreciate them.  They were ordinary folks but at the same time they were just extraordinary.

I think about the night in 1974 when I walked into that church in Valdosta, Georgia and saw “the girl” and I am grateful.  I have shared almost 48 of my 70 years with her and boy am I glad I decided to go to that church that night.  Our journey has been and is one adventure after another.  I’m hoping God decides to let us grow old together—it’s gonna be a hoot for sure.  Throw in the mix the kids (including the ones who stole our daughter’s hearts) and the grandkids and, well, it is awesome.  Perfect? No.  But who said life must be perfect to be amazing?

And, then there are the everyday people I have met and bumped into, especially as a teacher/pastor. If life was a giant scoop of vanilla ice cream and people were the toppings, it would be one fantastic, multi-flavored, rainbow-colored sundae.  You know those things kids love to sprinkle on ice cream—all the different colors and flavors mixed?  Well, that’s life and that’s people and that’s what makes it wonderfully unique.  Yep, it’s been a good ride.

It seems that life is like a long stint in school.  Someone said all they needed to learn they learned in kindergarten.  I think that really is life—one big, long day in kindergarten—learning, playing, living—with a few skinned knees along the way.  I know this and yet I am still learning this.  Life is not a destination—it is a journey.  There is not some magic place we are going to arrive at one day and feel all warm and fuzzy and complete—well, unless you count heaven.  No, the joy of life is the journey.

There it is. That is why we need to wake up every day, thank God for another love note, another opportunity to make an impact and be impacted.  That is why every day, regardless of how it plays out, is a gift.  The hard days are opportunities to learn those hard, but very valuable, lessons.  The good days when things just go amazingly well are like recess—or lunch.  The trick is learning to be grateful for both, because both are valuable.

At any rate—I’m grateful that at t-minus nine months Alston and Leslie decided one more couldn’t hurt.  I’m grateful that they decided I was a keeper—even if the table was a little full.  And if it isn’t your birthday today, go ahead and celebrate anyway.  Today is God’s decision that life should go on.  Today is His way of saying I love you.  Today, regardless of the circumstances, is an opportunity to believe that He is good, that He is faithful and that He can be trusted.  It is just one more opportunity to believe, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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