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

Precious Memories

And we are confident that He hears us whenever we ask for anything that pleases Him.” 1 John 5:14

It’s a song we often sing at funerals…but it’s also a good song to live by.  The other day I was sitting around talking with some friends and we began sharing about some of our experiences.  Before long we discovered that our friend had been in the military and spent some time in Germany…just like my wife and I.  Before long, our sentences were punctuated with, “I remember…” and the room swelled with great times and great memories.  I know from where I sit there are some incredible times where God just blessed.  One of those times was my vision trip to work on the islands of Lake Victoria in Uganda.

This would be one mission trip that I would be taking all by myself.  There was not a team and Judy was unable to go.  It was me and God and I discovered that was good combination…a great combination.  I remember (there’s our word) that I had asked the church family to really pray for me while I was gone.  In fact, I gave them three specific things to pray for. First, I asked them to pray for my time in the boat.  Because we were ministering on the islands, we would spend several hours a day in a small (about 25 feet) open boat.  We would be cruising Lake Victoria, the second largest lake in the world.  In fact, it was like a small sea.  I sometimes have a tendency for motion sickness. Normally that is limited to going “round and round.”  However, when it comes to waves and boats it can be “game on.”

My second prayer request was for an effective interpreter. When you speak with an interpreter, you say a few sentences then you pause, and he interprets what you said. Well, during my previous trips to another part of Uganda when I was teaching and preaching, my interpreter was very good.  It was almost like he was an extension of me.   I knew having a good interpreter would greatly impact the effectiveness of the trip.  So I asked for prayer that God would send just the right man.

Finally, I asked my friends and family to pray that I wouldn’t wimp out.  Now hang on–I’m not a newbie in the world of mission trips, but it was my first solo journey.  There is a time to whine and a time not to whine. Is that in the book of Ecclesiastes? The bottom line is the time on any mission trip is too valuable to be a whiner. So, I needed to be flexible and remember this whole deal wasn’t about me but Him and them.  There is saying for people who go on mission trips.  It says, “Blessed are the flexible for they shall not break.”  Amen, Lord, Amen.

So, for those of you who wonder if God answers prayer, the answer is, “He does.”  When we pray for His will to be done and His purpose to be accomplished, hang on because those are prayers He loves to answer. To be direct and to the point—God answered the prayers of His kids clearly and specifically.  First—no motion sickness.  The lake was not calm–in fact one day we had whitecaps.  Still—without a pill or a patch—I was totally free from motion sickness.  That interpreter?  God answered that prayer with a local pastor who was better than any other person I have worked with.  He was so animated and led of the Lord—totally awesome.  Last, wimping out?  Well, those of you who know me best would probably have said, “Who is this guy?”  One time when it was 10:00 pm and our supper had still not yet appeared, I almost whined but was able to stifle it. God was just incredibly good, and I came home with a full heart and a vision of how we could begin a ministry to the people who lived on the islands of Lake Victoria.

It is important to remember that God is not a genie with a magic lamp.  God is not Santa Claus waiting to receive our wish list. God is not a vending machine where we put our quarter in and get what we want.  God is God.  And when we pray for His will to be done…amazing things can and do happen. John, one of Jesus’ closest disciples, said, “And we are confident that He hears us whenever we ask for anything that pleases Him.” That is not a statute of limitations but rather an invitation to join God in His work.  Let’s join God in a conversation…not just when you are in trouble…but rather every day.  You will find that He is waiting and willing to have a chat with you.  Oh, and don’t be surprised, when He responds, “Don’t worry, I’ve got that.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Have a Good Day

This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24

“Sometimes you feel like a nut…sometimes you don’t.”  You might remember that as the slogan for the Mounds candy company.  One of their candy bars has almonds and one doesn’t. Frankly…I like them both.  The slogan reminds me of the way days sometimes go.  Sometimes they are smooth sailing and sometimes, well, they aren’t.  There is an old saying that asks the question, “Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed today?” It usually means someone is a bit grumpy and often it is associated with the day they are having. It goes back in time when getting out of bed on the left side was akin to bad luck and a bad day.

One of my favorite kid’s books is titled, “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.” It’s a humorous account of a little boy who has not a day, but seemingly a life, that constantly goes south.  Ever wonder what a bad day might look like?  Well, someone wrote a list of ten things that might be very good indicators of a very bad day.  It goes like this.

Top Ten Indicators of a bad day!

1. You realize you just sprayed spot remover under your arms instead of deodorant.
2. Your doctor tells you that you are allergic to chocolate chip cookies.
3. The gypsy fortune teller offers to refund your money.
4. The worst player on the golf course wants to play you for money.
5. Everyone is laughing…but you.
6. You turn on the news and they are showing emergency routes out of your city.
7. You wake up to the soothing sound of running water…and remember you just purchased a waterbed.
8. Your horn sticks on the freeway–behind 32 guys riding motorcycles, wearing leathers, chains and very angry looks.
9. You call the crisis hotline and they put you on hold.
10. Your four-year-old tells you that it’s ALMOST impossible to flush a grapefruit down the toilet.

Well, I hope that made you smile.  We all have stories of days when it seemed like Murphy (of Murphy’s Law fame) was our worst best friend and absolutely nothing goes right.  It makes us want to go back to bed and try it all again.  Well, something that just keeps rolling around in my head (and my heart) is this scripture that talks about the fact that God makes each day.  It says, “This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.” I’m glad it didn’t say be happy about it because that might really be hard.  No, it says, “Rejoice” or be joyful.  You see joy and happiness are not the same.  Happiness depends on circumstances and joy depends on our trust in God—and those two things are far, far apart.

I must admit that I am not always the most optimistic person, though I do try to see the glass as half full rather than half empty.  But I am learning that if I look around closely, I will see little love notes from my Dearest Daddy.  Mostly they are small, little blessings that can go unnoticed. But if I slow down and look around, there they are.  I think it is important to train our eyes, and minds, to look for the ways He works His God magic.  So, why not decide that today, right now, you are going to journey today with an eye for Him.  You might be surprised how differently your day goes.  Oh, and if it really is a difficult day, if it really seems like Alexander’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, well, just remember that every day and any day, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful

Real Love, Real Blessed

This is real love—not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.” 1 John 4:10

It was hotter than a firecracker. Today, forty-seven years ago, I became the luckiest guy in the world.  Oh, I know, Joe DiMaggio thought he was but that is because he didn’t marry Judy.  You see, on June 26, 1976, this Florida cracker married one fine Georgia peach—Judy Dawn Allen thus ensuring my standing as the luckiest guy in the world. Looking back over the past four and a half decades, plus two years, I am amazed just how good God has been.

I met Judy at church one Wednesday night.  I was stationed at the nearby Air Force base.  She was only sixteen and I was twenty.  It had to be a miracle that her parents even let me near her but then…I did meet her at church. Smile. I walked into church that Wednesday night, saw her standing in a group of about five or six young ladies, and well, that was that.  I got her phone number from a friend who attended that same church, gave her a call, asked her out on a date and she said yes.  That yes led to another yes on April 1, 1975, when she agreed to marry me and that yes led to an “I Do” on June 26, 1976. How about that?

Recently, someone at church wished me a happy anniversary and I told them the secret to being married for 47 years.  All you have to do is marry someone like my wife Judy.  She loves God and Jesus, loves her family, loves people but most of all—she loves me. I never could figure that part out.  I am certain I am not worthy of her love but still she scoops it out in large quantities. She loves me when I get it right and when I don’t.  She loves me when it is hard and loves me when it is easier.  Amazing.

As amazing as all that is—the way God loves me is even bigger and better. He too lavishes His love out on me, and He too loves me regardless of my performance. On my best day, He loves me and on my worst day, He loves me still and a zillion years from today He will still be loving me.  His word says, “This is real love—not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.” Now that is what I call love.  That is what I call amazing.

Looking back, hot or not, I’m grateful for that summer day in South Georgia when an amazing God allowed me to marry an amazing young lady.  Over forty-seven years, walking together, and all but five of them as a pastor’s wife, well, I’ll forever be indebted to the One who gave her to me and to her for saying yes.  He took care of me then and He will take care of me for all the tomorrows yet to come. As always,, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

He’s Writing a New Story

God, who began the good work within you, will continue His work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.” Philippians 1:6

“Do you have a pencil?” he asked.  Realizing there were plenty of kinds of pencils he added, “You know, the old-fashioned kind?”  I’m not sure why he needed it, but I rummaged through my desk drawer and found one.  I think he needed one with the lead on one end and an eraser on the other.  The kind where you use one end to write a story or make a mark and the other you use to remove your “oops.” Today we are more likely to use the delete key on a keyboard. Erasers were my friends. Delete keys are my new friend. It makes my oops disappear.  I have a lot of oops.

My delete key changes things.  As I look back over the last year, I am still amazed at the way things were shut down.  I was even more amazed as I was forced to go to my calendar and delete things.  On my personal calendar and on the church calendar, one by one, meetings and events were deleted. It was difficult for me…it was difficult for us and in the midst of it all, I almost lost sight of the big picture…a picture so big only God could be holding the brush.

One day I found myself staring at the calendar like a blank canvas and I realized what had been planned didn’t matter anymore. But here is the really good part. The space that was cleared left plenty of room–room for God to write a new story. A different story. A better story. Things like a new Wednesday program for our church was born.  In the white space created by that largely empty calendar, Grits was born. The bottom line is without God orchestrating the delete button, things that needed to change would have stayed the same. New men’s, ladies, and children’s programs would not have been born.  And a year’s worth of Grit’s stories would still be in my head and heart but not on the page. The thing I resisted led to the freedom to do it.

I’ve heard stories of different ways God used that hot mess to rewrite lives.  We saw what could happen if we started to freely, to openly, invite Him to use the delete button and rewrite the stories of our lives.  We discovered opportunities, adventures that suddenly filled the pages of our lives.  A walk to the park became a safari. Homemade pizza night became an edible art gallery. The dining room table was cleared, and we pulled out the family games that had stayed in the closet too long.

Cards were written, calls made, and stories shared.  Think about it. Remember how the kids’ faces lit up as they heard again how you met each other or how you met Jesus? Think of the new stories yet to be told as we look back when things were so hard, and we all learned how to trust God for help.  We saw faith leaping off the page of the Bible and right onto the pages of our lives. If we asked, we might hear our kids tell us “Mom, Dad that bad time was the best time because we got to be together.” How about that?

Yes, those really were challenging times.  Financially. Emotionally. Spiritually.  And honesty…they still are. But what if God is writing a new story that in the end is the stuff of legends?  What if in a few years these days are some of the best memories?  And it was all possible because we said, “Ok God–go ahead and use the delete key.  I’m trusting that Your story is better than my story. I’m trusting You.”

You see, God’s best use of the delete key is when He applies His grace to our sins, our mistakes, our misguided decisions, our oops.  New pasts and new futures are His specialties, and they are often written in crazy days like these.  So, go ahead, press that delete key. Rest in Him.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, life, loving others, missions, prayer, thankful, travel, Trials

Can You Say That Again?

All Scripture is inspired by God and is profitable for teaching, for rebuking, for correcting, for training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.” (2 Timothy 3:16-17)

Strange things happen in Africa.  For the past 12 or 13 years, our church has made regular trips to Africa.  We began in Niger and later moved down to Mali.  The last six years or so we have been working in Uganda. Regardless of what country, you can always count on Africa to give you plenty of unusual and strange sights.  So, in some ways I wasn’t surprised.

We were on an island in Lake Victoria, Uganda.  On any given trip we visit at least three or four different islands offering free medical care, children’s ministries, ladies ministries and visiting the people in their huts to tell them the stories of Jesus.  The point of it all is to let them hear the Good News that there is a God who loves them—a lot. It was later in the afternoon, and we were winding down for the day.  The medical clinic was finishing and four or five of us men were sitting in the shade under the “front porch” of one of the buildings.

So, we were talking and like I said you see some different things in Africa, so I wasn’t surprised when my friend said, “Look, there goes a woman with a peg leg.” Well, I turned around to look and didn’t see what he was talking about. I did see a lady some distance away but couldn’t see her peg leg.  I mean, the only peg legs I knew about were in Peter Pan, so it piqued my curiosity.

I turned back around but didn’t say anything.  But it stuck in my mind.  After ten minutes or so, I just had to ask my friend about this strange sight.  I said, “Tim, did you say something about a lady with a peg leg?” His expression told me I must have missed something. He gave me a perplexing look. All he could manage was a “uh?”  I said, “You know, a few minutes ago you said you saw a lady with a peg leg.” He responded with, “No.  I said I saw a man carrying a stringer of fish.”  Silence. Snickers.  Laughter.

Yup.  Somewhere in the process of the conversation what was said and what I heard were two totally, and I mean totally, different things.  There was no lady with a peg leg, only a guy with a stringer of fish.  You are probably wondering how I got “peg leg” out of “stringer of fish.”  All I can say is strange things happen in Africa. I’m glad there wasn’t a crippled lady but the idea of a peg leg like Captain Cook’s sure did intrigue me.

And do you know what?  Sometimes I think this happens with God and me. I think He is saying something, and I totally miss it.  Does that happen to you? I think it’s more common than we think. We think we hear Him say, “You have the right to be mad” and in fact He’s saying, “Forgive.”  We think we hear Him say, “Take” and He was actually saying, “Give.” Oh, and then we thought He said, “Quit” and He was saying, “Serve.” And it just goes on and on.  We hear “Leave” and He is saying, “Stay.” We hear “Go ahead” and He is saying “Stop, wait, don’t.” Seems strange things don’t happen only in Africa.  Smile.

So, I’m not sure what caused the totally humorous miscommunication in Uganda.  It may have been my hearing, could have been the village noise…who knows.  There may not have been a fix for that, however, when it comes to hearing God clearly there is something that will really help.  It is His Word.  In so many situations (though I’m not sure peg legs are one of them) the Bible gives us clear guidance.

Here is one thing you can count on.  The voice of God (what we think we hear God saying) will not, ever, never, contradict the Word of God.  If you think you hear Him saying, “Revenge” when someone has hurt you, you probably have “Peg Leg Syndrome.”   If you think you hear Him saying, “Be afraid” when circumstances are frightful, you probably have “Peg Leg Syndrome.” You get the idea.

Talking about the Word of God, Paul said that it is good for learning, good for insight about what is wrong in our lives, good for correcting us when we are wrong and good for teaching us about how to live right.  The Bible is an amazing Book. It has stood the test of time and, while there are different translations, there is not a version 4.3 because God got it right the first time.

So, if you are talking with your friends and someone mentions a lady with a peg leg, you might want to ask for some clarification.  And if you think you heard God say something that sounds a little not like Him, check the Book, and go to the source.  Peg leg stories can be funny, but withholding forgiveness when it is ours to give, hating instead of loving, leaving too soon instead of staying…well, that can cause a lot of pain.  And if you find yourself singing and living that 1974 hit “Wasted Days and Wasted Nights” it might just be a bad case of Peg Leg Syndrome.  Just pull out the Book, read a little and rest in Him.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

My Friend, Frances

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.” Proverbs 17:17

Johnny Cash sang it. “My name is Sue…now you’re going to die.” Well, his name wasn’t Sue, but it was Frances.  Like Sue…it was a somewhat unusual name for a man and Frances was an unusual guy. I met Frances when I went to pastor at the LaMonte Baptist Church.  The church had three deacons and they were named Leo, Francis, and Floyd.  All three of them were special guys and I grew to love each one of them for who they were.  I was a very young, inexperienced pastor and new at the pastoring thing.  So new, in fact, that when I mowed my grass at the parsonage, across the street from the church, I would wear dress pants.  I wasn’t sure if pastors were allowed to wear jeans so close to the church.  They can.

So, even back in 1984, Judy loved flowers and the parsonage was woefully short in that department.  In fact, I’m not sure there were any flowers in the entire yard.  Well, one day Judy declared that she wanted a flower bed.  She began to actually plan the where’s and how’s of the flower bed.  If it had been me, I would have grabbed some flowers, dug a hole, stuffed them in, and applied dirt.  Good luck.  Not Judy.  She decided that the flower bed should go along the front of the house and that it needed to be raised.  That means we needed to find some timbers to build up the height of the bed.  Again, after a little thought, she decided that railroad ties would do the job.

Somehow, I casually mentioned to Frances that Judy wanted a flower bed. Now Frances was the go-to guy when it came to things like the parsonage.  He had already led the charge in installing a brick flue so we could have a wood burner, so he was the natural choice for the flower bed.  I said, “Frances, Judy would like to have some railroad ties for her new flower bed.  Frances didn’t miss a beat.  He said, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at five.”

Well, sure as shooting, the next day at five, Frances pulled up in his big ole dually, white Dodge pickup truck.  You know there are pickup trucks too pretty to get dirty and then there are real pickup trucks.  Frances had a real pickup truck.   I climbed inside and we headed toward Sedalia, the largest town nearby.  I figured we were heading to the hardware store there to purchase some ties.  I was wrong.  You see, there was a railroad that ran parallel to the main highway.  We went down the road a bit and then…Frances turned.

Yup, he turned on a small road and then immediately took a right.  We had arrived at the railroad tie store, only it wasn’t a store…it was the factory.  I found myself in railroad tie heaven.  You see, the railroad company had recently replaced their ties and the old ones were strewn all down the rails.  As far as you could see there were railroad ties. I was just amazed.  I should have been afraid.

Frances said, “Preacher, how many ties do you think you will need?”  Well, I told him I thought ten or twelve would be enough.”  So, we started going along the tracks and selecting the best ones for the flower bed.  Just like a carpenter would choose the best 2×4’s at the lumber yard, we picked the best ties.  This was just awesome.  And then it happened.  I heard the sound of a distant train whistle.

Now I didn’t think a thing about it. I was always a bit gullible and way too trusting so I had just assumed that Frances had called the local railroad office, told them the church needed a few of their old ties and got permission to get some.  I was wrong.  I heard the train whistle the second time and it was decidedly closer. I noticed that Frances had picked up the pace…he was moving a little faster.  I still didn’t think a thing about it.  I just assumed he didn’t want to be that close to the tracks when the train went by.  Well, that was kind of true.

The whistle blew again and this time it must have been about a mile down the tracks and Frances said it, “Preacher, we got to go.”  I did sense a bit of urgency in his voice but I kind of thought it was a safety thing.  It turned out it was a bit more than that.  As we got back in his truck I said, “Frances, what’s the hurry?” I was thinking we could just move the truck further away from the tracks and we could even wave at the crew as they went by.  “Preacher, you don’t think they are giving us these ties, do you?”  Wait.  What?

Yup…I just discovered that we were stealing ties from the railroad.  It wasn’t a matter of safety it was a matter of not going to jail. So, Frances cranked the engine and mashed the gas and off we went just before the train came by. In the back of the truck were a bunch of railroad ties and in the front were two guys.  One was a preacher, one was a deacon, and both were guilty as sin. One knew all about it and the other was just learning but both were tie stealing criminals. Frances was smiling and I was wondering if I was going to jail.  But somehow it all seemed like a great adventure.

Well, we got back to the parsonage, and we built the flower bed. Frances helped with that too.  Years later when I would return to the church to preach, or perform a funeral, or maybe just drive through town, I would look and see the ties.  I didn’t remember the sin (After all, I’m sure I confessed it. God had forgotten it and I figure I should too.) No, I remembered a crusty old deacon, but more than that, a friend who wanted to help.  His way wasn’t ethical but all these years later, his willingness, his own brand of love is still lodged in my heart.  The Book says, “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.”

You know there are fancy friends, and rich friends and maybe even friends in positions of power.  And then there are the Frances kind of friends and that isn’t bad. Of course, if you’re gonna steal railroad ties, you need the Jesus kind of friend.  His specialty is forgiving when you mess up and He’s the best friend of all. He’s the kind of friend that wouldn’t have frowned or pretend He didn’t know you when He saw you in Walmart.  No, He’s the “stay by your side” friend.  Through thick or thin, jail or not, He would say, “Don’t worry…just rest in Me.  I’ve got this.” Now that’s my kind of friend. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Father's Day, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, Integrity, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Daddy

Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.” Exodus 20:12

He didn’t wear a cape or an iron suit, but he was a hero to me.  A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away I was born.  It all happened on January 6, 1954, in Orange Park, Florida.  I was number eight in a family of eight. This can’t be confirmed but I think it went something like this.  My Daddy was somewhat of a perfectionist and he and my Momma had tried seven times to have the perfect child.  He went to her and said, “Well, honey, I know we have tried seven times to pull off this perfect child thing and I say we give it one more shot.  I really think eight is going to be our lucky number.”  So, ta-da here I am…living proof that persistence pays off.

My Daddy was 42 years old when I was born.  He had plenty of experience at the father thing and you know, I think he did a great job.  I don’t recall a lot of special events in my early and later childhood but that isn’t because they didn’t happen.  I can remember family camping trips to the beach as well as all night fishing trips to the same.  I can remember family vacations to see relatives in all the hot vacation spots like New Jersey and Texas.  I can remember trips to Silver Springs, Six Gun Territory and Doctor’s Inlet which was a great place to go for a lake swim.  But there are also several memories with just dad and me.

When I was about six, Daddy took me fishing on Cedar Creek.  It was just me and him.  At this age, I wasn’t very good at fishing or paying attention.  Truth be known I had a hard time staying focused on anything for very long.  Anyway, the fish were biting that day, but I had a hard time watching the bobber.  Over and again, Daddy would ask, “Dewayne, where’s your bobber?”  I would look and it was gone.  We lost a lot of good worms that day.

Later, when I was about ten, Daddy took me hunting.  The big deal was that he allowed me to take my BB gun.  I wasn’t allowed to carry a real gun; you will see why in a moment.  So, we were walking through the woods, and I was about four feet behind dad.  Silent as an F5 tornado, I crept through the woods.  I was too noisy, but dad was way patient.   And then, well, I shot him in the back.  Now wait, don’t panic.  It was only a BB gun, and he did have his heavy hunting jacket on.  I had my finger on the trigger (oops) and every so slowly and without even realizing it, increased the pressure.  Just like that it went off and got dad square in the back. Bummer.

Do you know what?  He didn’t holler and in fact he didn’t say a single word.  He just looked over his shoulder and gave me that “I’m glad that wasn’t a 12 gauge” look.  I appreciated that and have never forgotten the fact that he could have made me feel “less than” but didn’t.  I’m sure we had a talk about gun safety, and it must have worked out because I never shot him again.

My two favorite memories of him don’t involve a fishing pole or a gun.  They involve God.  Honestly, Daddy didn’t go to church a bunch, but I know he was a Christian because of the way he lived. Two events, two memories are burned into my mind and heart.  The first is a time when we were having prayer time together as a family.  Some people call it family altar…at the time I probably called it too long.  I remember it was time to pray so we all got down on our knees around the room.  I got a little bored, so I peeked and there across the room was my Daddy, on his knees, talking to God.  It made a big impression on my young heart.

Later, when I was about 17, I caught Daddy praying again.  I came home from a date late one night and there sitting at the kitchen table was my Daddy—praying.  With his hands clasped together he was talking to God.  I don’t know what prompted the late-night prayer meeting, but I know it again made a big impression on me as a young man. And that is the point.  My Daddy made an impression on me that impacted so many areas of my life.  Integrity, work ethic, caring and providing for your family and being a man were all part of the core curriculum.

I didn’t get to keep my Daddy too much longer.  When I was in high school, he had a massive heart attack.  He lived a couple of more years but when he was just 62 and I was 20, God decided to take him home.  Suddenly, on a Sunday morning he went to heaven.  It was hard and is hard to this day.  He never got to meet my wife, children, or any of his eight great grandchildren. He never got to see much of my career in the Air Force or hear me preach a sermon.  I hope in heaven they keep tabs on us down here and I hope I’ve made my hero proud.

Well, now that we are all sad and weepy let me throw this in.  Whether you are young or older, take the time this Father’s Day, and every day, to tell your dad (and mom) how much you appreciate them.  One of God’s big commands is that we honor our parents and when we do—we honor Him.  There’s no better way to do that than to tell them and show them that you love them.

I know things don’t always work out with dads and if that is the case with you, I am so sorry.  My Daddy wasn’t perfect…none are but his love outweighed his warts. If you are a Jesus follower, I hope you can extend some grace…just like God did to you.  And always remember, you have a Heavenly Father who is perfect, who always gets it right. He’s always waiting for you to crawl up in His lap and take a rest.  And the icing on the cake is He is stronger than a superhero…and because of that, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

“Foot in Mouth” Disease -Sir

Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.” Ephesians 4:29

I just shouldn’t have said it.  We all have said things that we wish we hadn’t.  I learned a lesson about that the hard way.  I had two bumps in Air Force basic training. One involved singing…you can check that one out on my blog www.gritswithgrace.com (https://gritswithgrace.com/2020/06/01/i-said-sing/). The other one also involved my mouth…I wonder if there is trend there?

In basic training guys were assigned to a flight (group) and each flight had a dorm chief.  He was someone, a peer of sorts, the flight chief selected from within or outside the flight.  Ours was selected from outside.  He had a weight issue so was put in a special group that helped men get down to a weight level that was acceptable.  That of course meant they had to stay longer in basic.  Well, our guy, whose name was Guy, was one of those guys.  Because of his longer tenure in basic he was appointed our dorm chief.

Now it could have been a little jealousy on my side, or it could have been that I was a little judgmental or maybe I had a momentary case of the stupid’s but I said something to one of the guys about this guy.  The words are lost to time, but it was probably something like, “Who does this guy think he is? He’s not a leader…he is a loser.”  Well, anyway, something like that. I said it and forgot it assuming it just died away.  It did not.

So, apparently either that guy told another guy who told another guy who told the guy named Guy.  The guy named Guy told the guy named Sergeant Catchings who was the same guy that caught me singing.  Well, things were about to go south.  There was a lesson that needed to be taught and I was the object of that lesson.

Sergeant Catchings gathered the flight outside his office and, leaving the door open sat down at his desk.  We all were like, “What’s this about?”  I quickly found out it was about me.  Soon a booming, “you’re in deep weeds son” voice said, “Airman Taylor, get in here.” I got up and went in the office and he instructed me to close the door.  I stood smartly at attention in front of the desk. Sergeant Catchings harshly invited me to take a seat.  There was no chair.

He had me place my hands flat on his desk and then squat by bending my knees till my arms were parallel with the top of his desk. Three things immediately came to my mind.  One, what in the world have I done? Two, this is very uncomfortable.  Three, I’m going to die.  Well in about one minute I found out that Dorm Chief Guy had told him I was mouthing off.  I had broken a cardinal rule…don’t mouth off about those in leadership above you.

Sergeant Catchings jumped to his feet and began to lecture me about respect for leadership and how I should never, ever disrespect those put in authority over me.  Now don’t forget.  One, I still “sitting” in the invisible chair with my hands on his desk.  Two, the entire flight is outside the door.  And by now he is screaming at the top of his voice.  For added effect, he would occasionally walk over to the door and kick it or slap it making it sound like I was dying.  I was.

Finally, after about ten or so minutes he opens the door and says two words, “Get out.” Imagine 27 guys looking in the office and seeing me squatting with my hands on the desk.  I can’t move.  I am locked in place.  My muscles leg and arm muscles were frozen.  He said it again, LOUDER, “I said get out.”  So, I fell over and managed to crawl, yes, I said crawl, out of his office. I was in agony and the rest of the guys were in shock and we all learned a lesson about gossip and respect for authority.

The lesson that day was very valuable. I wish I could tell you that I learned it so well I never had the “stupid’s” again but that wouldn’t be true.  But I can tell you this.  There is a reason the Bible talks so much about the tongue and the mouth. It isn’t a matter of finding a verse…it is a matter of choosing a verse.  We can start with a little nugget found in Proverbs 21:23, “Watch your tongue and keep your mouth shut,

and you will stay out of trouble.” I wish I had remembered that one before I uttered the words that prompted my visit to Sergeant Catchings office.

But the one that probably says it best is this, “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.” Imagine how less complicated our lives, our families, our marriages would be if we mastered that one.  Imagine how our work lives and even our worship lives would change.  A pastor once said that if we knew we would have to personally apologize to every person we slandered or gossiped about, we probably would hit “pause” a lot more often.

Oh well, I’m sure glad we have a graceful God.  I have learned over the years to deeply value his patience with me and His mercy for me.  There have been too many times I’ve had to go to my Dearest Daddy and have a chat about “foot in mouth” disease.  I’m glad He graciously invited me to come sit close beside Him. He has always heard my confession and honored my repentance.  I find rest right there…next to Him…because He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, friends, gratitude, life, prayer, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Scars and Souvenirs

We know that all things work together for the good of those who love God, who are called according to His purpose., I have engraved you on the palms of My hands…” Romans 8:28 (CSB)

I was probably nine years old when it happened.  If you look at my hands you will see several scars.  Over here is one from an “exacto” knife when I was putting together a car model.  Over there is one from a car accident.  I was riding with my brother-in-law and the car in front of him decided to stop and he decided not to.

There is one on my right thumb—it’s the one that has been there for the last 60 years.  We were visiting with my Uncle Hardy down near Chiefland, Florida.  He was my Momma’s brother and the city manager of that small central Florida town.  They had an annual Watermelon Festival that included all the melon you could eat and an opportunity to ride on the back of the city’s garbage truck in the parade.  That was a big deal.  I didn’t get out much.

There are two things that Uncle Hardy had that impacted my life. One was a hairline that didn’t include much hair.  Thanks Uncle Hardy.  The other was a fish camp on the Suwannee River.  It was an old Florida cabin with a tin roof, the kind legends are born from, at least for a nine-year-old.  We would take boat rides, swim in the river, and eat watermelon. And that’s where “a scar was born.”

We were eating watermelon and I picked up a large butcher knife to slice off the watermelon from the rind.  I didn’t have a lot of experience with butcher knives, but I was feeling a little like “Indiana Jones”, so I picked it up.  Like I said, I didn’t have a lot of experience, so I began slicing the watermelon pulling the knife toward me and my little nine-year-old hand. My dad saw it and said, “Dewayne.  Be careful with the knife. Don’t pull it toward you—push it away”.

Well, when you are nine and know it all, and you’re feeling like Indiana Jones you don’t listen to your Daddy or common sense. So, I kept right on slicing and then it happened.  I got a little too close to my hand and neatly sliced a half-moon cut in my thumb.  Well, so much for Indiana Jones.  There was the usual holler, a bit of tears, daddy’s “I told you so,” a big bandage, a little embarrassment, and the makings of a scar.

It healed fine, leaving a scar and a gentle reminder.  When you are using a knife don’t pull it toward you…push it away.  Daddy was right.  There is only one scar on my hand from using a knife incorrectly. That is because every time I am tempted to do it wrong, the scar on my right thumb says don’t.  And now the scar has become a sort of souvenir. When I see it, I don’t remember the pain, the tears or the embarrassment, I remember the lesson.

How about you?  Have any scars…visible or invisible?  When you see them or think about them, does your mind instantly go back to pain? Do you find yourself constantly living “it” all over again—the hurtful word, the unkind act, the feeling of being rejected or forgotten?  What if we “scar bearers” could remember the lesson instead of the pain? What if we could remember the promise instead of the pain?  Promise?  Yes, the one found in Romans 8:28 “We know that all things work together for the good of those who love God, who are called according to His purposes.” This is a “go to” promise for me because I have a lot of oops, bumps, bruises, and scars.  I’m learning, though, to look at all of that not for the pain they caused, but the good God brought from them.

I’m determined to learn to glean as much as I can from each day.  It’s something I picked up during 2020.  It’s ironic how 20-20 means clarity and yet we had so little of it.  But we have a God who can see all things with perfect insight.  So instead of singing the blues, I’m gonna work at turning my scars into souvenirs.  And I’m gonna lay my head down tonight and rest in Him. But there’s more.  I know now my daddy was a lot wiser than I was. He had experience with knives and watermelon.  And my heavenly Father…well, He knows everything, and do you know what?  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Military memories, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials, USA

The Longest Day

But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, will teach you all things and remind you of everything I have told you.” John 14:26

It was more than the title for a movie.  One by one they are slipping away.  Who?  That generation newsman and author Tom Brokaw called, “The Greatest Generation.” This generation was born and lived through the Great Depression.  Their words and testimonies fill pages and pages of books and blogs.  Words like, “we were poor but didn’t know it” or l “we had nothing but each other…and that was more than enough” ring of their wisdom and courage.

But it would seem that living and surviving the Great Depression was just a warmup for their finest hour…that would begin with the bombing of Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. That day, the day that President Franklin Roosevelt said, “would live in infamy,” marked the start of our country’s direct involvement in World War II.  Before it was all over, almost four years later, America would see 1,076,245 causalities.  That number includes 291,557 combat dead, 113,842 who died from other causes and 670,840 wounded.

One Memorial Day I heard a phrase I had heard before but this time it seemed to shout at me.  It simply said, “Freedom isn’t free.”  As I listened that day, I was freshly amazed at this generation of men and women, 16.7 million of them, who served during World War II. They marched off, self-forgotten, to strange lands and places and many of them would never come home.  Like I said, I was amazed.

Today, June 6th, 2023, is the 79th anniversary of what has been called, “The Longest Day.” It was the day that thousands of soldiers, airmen, and sailors, with thousands of ships and planes invaded Normandy, France to begin the retaking of Europe from the grip of Nazi Germany and the Axis powers.  The courage of those men who stormed those beaches is legendary.  Imagine with me small boats, called Higgins boats, riding the waves towards Normandy with shells exploding all around.  Imagine with me seeing many, too many, of these boats literally disappearing after taking a direct hit from enemy shells. Imagine knowing that each of these boats carried several dozen men.  Sacrifice. Courage. Amazing.

There probably are no words that can describe that day.  Films like, “The Longest Day” and “Saving Private Ryan” have tried to tell the story but though their efforts are valiant they always fall short.  That day, 6,603 Americans were killed, missing, or wounded. Imagine again, as officers knocked on doors and telegrams arrived, “The Defense Department regrets to inform you…” Freedom truly isn’t free.  I know we know but I only hope we won’t forget.  Yet in most minds, this observance of “The Longest Day” won’t garner a passing thought.

When the children of Israel of Old Testament fame were crossing over into the Promised Land, they were told to take twelve stones from the middle of the Jordan River.  The sole purpose of these stones was to remind them of the miracle and the day.  That way when years later and their memories were foggy, they had the stones to remind them.  I’m not sure what stone of reminder we need but it might be as simple as a visit to the cemetery and taking the time to READ the markers and stones of those who served.  It might be as simple as taking your kids with you to show them and teach them about sacrifice and courage.  Unfortunately, it may not be taught any place else.

December 7, 1941. June 6, 1944. These are only two dates of many that are worthy of remembrance…but they are a start. Jesus knew we would need help remembering about the things of God.  That is why He said, “But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and remind you of everything I have told you.” And who knows, perhaps that same Holy Spirit will help us remember to be grateful for the sacrifice others have made on our behalf.  In fact, I’m sure He will help because that is what He does best…help. Like everything else, I’m sure, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne