Posted in Family, fear, friends, gratitude, life, love, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

A Change in Plans

 “And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.” Romans 8:28

In a moment…everything changed. A long time ago, one of the young ladies in our church family asked me if, when the time came, I would perform her marriage ceremony. Her mom told me she had long dreamed of her wedding and part of that dream was for me to conduct the ceremony. Well, when I retired last year from the pastorate, she immediately came up and reminded me that retirement or not, I still had to be there for her on her special day. Well, not long after, sure enough, she was engaged and I was invited to be a part of the ceremony. The days, weeks and months until the day came and went and finally it was time.

She is one of those well organized people and she had planned everything down to the smallest detail. She found a beautiful wedding venue overlooking a lake. It was going to be a beautiful outdoor wedding and the weather for the wedding day was going to be perfect.  However, the evening of the rehearsal was another tale indeed. When the rehearsal time came it was raining those big, heavy drops but soon it passed and the sun at least made a cursory appearance. Rain or not, we were having a grand time. I’ve known this family a long time and was enjoying the time of fellowship and celebration.  

Soon, the rehearsal was over and we left to drive into the nearby town of Marion for the rehearsal dinner. Can someone say yay? As I was walking to my car to drive to the restaurant I noticed a very large and ominous cloud heading our way. We all got into our vehicles and drove the short distance for dinner. Just as we were nearing the restaurant, the tornado sirens started blaring and the tornado emergency signal sounded on my phone. It was ominous indeed. Arriving at the restaurant, we headed inside trying to ignore the increasing rain and blaring sirens. 

Soon we were seated at the dinner table feeling at least somewhat secure in the sturdy building. Well, as it turned out, we were safe but there was indeed a tornado and it struck the venue site head-on, completely destroying the main building along with everything that had been setup for the wedding. It had all the makings of a disaster. Just about then it was pretty hard to see the handiwork of God. After the initial shock the family began trying to piece the celebration scheduled for the next day back together. As it turned out there were several “blessings.” 

First, we were all safe. Had our departure been delayed by eight or ten minutes, we would have been right in the middle of the destruction but our Dearest Daddy made sure we were not there. Thank you Father. Second, one of the essential parts of the ceremony, the wedding dress, was in a small building very close to the larger one that was destroyed. The little building and the wedding dress survived. Thank you Father. Last, on this short list of blessings, as the family scrambled to find a new location, a new venue, which just happened (smile) to be available, was located not too far from the original site–and with no damage. Thank you Father.

Despite all the difficulties, I believe most of the wedding party soon began to see how our Dearest Daddy was working even when it was hard to see. And that is just what He does–always working. I am writing this the morning of the wedding ceremony. I’ve got some editing to do to the ceremony because this is a story that needs to be told and certainly won’t be forgotten. It reminds me that no matter what it looks like, God really is good…we just need to be sure to look and see it…and find it.  This is a wonderful example of how God causes everything to work for our good and His glory. It is also a wonderful example of how, no matter what, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne 

Posted in communication, Family, friends, life, loving others, Scripture

God’s Symphony

 “Now as we have many parts in one body, and all the parts do not have the same function, in the same way we who are many are one body in Christ and individually members of one another.” Romans 12:4-5

What if we could all just get along? Having zipped through four decades of pastoring, you can well imagine I’ve seen and met a whole bunch of people. Some went to church and some didn’t. Some had met Jesus and some were still looking.  Some were kind and some, well, weren’t.  But one thing I learned is that all of them were people that God created and all of them were precious in His sight.  Oh, and I learned this, when the ones who had met Jesus came together in unity and harmony, they were a force to be reckoned with.

A while back, my wife Judy and I attended a jazz concert out at our local college. The band was called, “Courtney Cox and the Little Big Band.” They weren’t a big band, only ten members” but they were so good. Their unity and the harmony that brought made them a musical force–yup–to be reckoned with! Check this out. 

A few days ago I received a devotion that talked about how a couple of really smart psychologists surveyed different members of eleven major orchestras. They asked how each section of instrumentalists perceived one another…what they thought of one another.  Here’s what they found out. The percussionists were viewed as unintelligent but fun-loving, while the string players were seen as arrogant and stuffy. The brass players were described as loud by many, and woodwinds were viewed as quiet, meticulous, and a bit egotistical.

So here’s the big question. With such different perceptions of one another, how were these orchestras able to make such wonderful music? Well, quite simply, they were able to put their biases aside and look to the leadership of the conductor. And when they all did that, they could make beautiful music together as one orchestra. Wow is that powerful or what? No matter how different–each person and each instrument–were necessary to make music.

So husbands and wives, how much stronger could our marriages be if we followed that example? Hey, how much better could our families be if we did the same thing? Not a church person? Ok, how much more profitable could your business be, your sports team be, your community be–if we followed their example? But let’s bring it home to us Jesus followers. How effective could the body of Christ be if we were to follow that model? Instead of infighting about personalities and methods in our churches, what if we put those differences aside and looked together at the great Conductor? The answer is obvious isn’t it?

Here’s an idea. Remember the church is not designed to be a thing where every person is a clone of the other. No, you see the church is a multifaceted diamond. We don’t need carbon copies of you or anybody. Rather, we need to learn to appreciate the beauty in the diversity of the body of Christ and follow Christ together. We need to let everybody be who God created them to be. Like the orchestras above where violins remain violins and trumpets remain trumpets, we too can create beautiful music. But remember this…it doesn’t come from cloning but from Christ and then together we can create something no member could achieve alone. Need a little help? No problem, just keep your eyes on the conductor and remember this…”He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, life, school days, Scripture, spiritual battles, thankful

Playing Army!

 “A thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I have come so that they may have life and have it in abundance.” John 10:10

It is an 8mm movie memory.  Like so many families we had a home movie camera growing up.  It is so much fun to go back and watch some of the ones that I have.  One that I remember so well from my childhood days was a clip of my nephew Little Joe.  As you can imagine, since there was a Little Joe, there must have been a Big Joe…and there was.  He was one of my older brothers who is no longer with us, and he had a son we called Little Joe.  Anyway, in one of the movies, it shows Little Joe, and he is wearing a full, miniature Army fatigue uniform.  My big brother Joe had been in the Army, so it was only fitting to see Little Joe dressed like his dad.

In the film clip, Little Joe is marching like a soldier.  Rigid…almost at attention as he marched, with his little face sternly looking at the camera…he looked the part.  He was probably five which means all of this was a zillion years ago.  Thinking of those days, I remembered, once again, how things have changed.  When I was growing up, playing Army was a regular thing…and we took it seriously.  We didn’t have uniforms, but we were armed to the teeth.  

Our arsenal included two different kinds of bullets.  First, there were those from the chinaberry tree. This tree produced hundreds, if not thousands, of green berries the size of small marbles.  The other bullet came from an evergreen that grew in our yard.  They were about the same size but had little pointy things.  Both were plentiful and effective. We would fill our pockets and then head for the woods…hurling them at one another.  But there was more.

We also had dirt clods.  In those days, it seemed there was always construction going on around us and of course that meant digging and digging meant dirt clods.  We would gather at a selected building site, divide into small teams, get behind a dirt pile and lob dirt “grenades” at one another.  We would hurl and duck or duck and hurl and we had a blast except for when a clod hit us in head.  Then, well, it wasn’t fun anymore.

Those building sites also provided a ready selection of pretend weapons…usually surveyor sticks.  Some were long and made great swords and some were wedge shaped and made great machine guns.  The effectiveness of the weapon depended on how good the sound effects were. We would play long, play hard and then come home dirty. Baths were essential and not optional.

Those days of playing army were some of the best memories of my childhood.  Gratefully I was also privileged to serve twelve years in the real Air Force and those days, too, hold so many of my life’s special memories.  But what I thought we should learn today is the fact that while playing army was fun when I was a boy, there is still a war going on today…and it’s not play.  I am learning that there is a battle being waged for so many of the things that we value most in life.  Not the least of these are our faith and families.

Whether you believe in the spirit realm or not, whether you believe in a God or a devil or not, you had better believe that there are things that want nothing more than to wage war against you and what you hold dear.  Sometimes it is a spirit of mediocrity, sometimes it might be a busy lifestyle or perhaps it is a drive to own the things we drive, or live in, or wear.  Perhaps it is a deluge of small things that when added up will cost us…and cost us dearly. 

In the Christian New Testament, a young Jewish Rabbi and Messiah named Jesus spoke about a thief and what he does.  Why not think for a few minutes what identities you might assign to this thief.  Look at the things I wrote about above.  Now listen to the rest of what Jesus said, “The thief comes to steal, kill and destroy.”  There you go…boom.

Thieves steal but they can do more, much more, so we must be on guard.  The good news is this is one battle we don’t have to face by ourselves. That same Messiah who defeated death and rose from the dead is real, willing and able to help.  All we have to is ask.  One more thing.  Don’t confuse Jesus with religion or even church. They might be related but the answer lies with the Man and nothing else. All we have to do is ask. He wants to help you guard what really matters and fight those life battles that are just too big for us on our own. No matter what we face, no matter the fight we can be sure that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in food, friends, life, missions, Scripture, travel

It Was Hard!

 “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us.”  Romans 8:18

And then I remembered…it was hard.  I was looking for a picture to use in one of my Grit’s stories and that caused me to go back…to reminisce…to remember.  It was 2007 and I was part of a vision trip to Niger, West Africa to check out the possibilities of our church ministering in that West African country.  It involved an incredibly long flight which included a 12-hour layover in Casablanca, Morocco.  This was new territory for all four team members and trust me it was an adventure.  Perhaps my favorite, and most eye-opening part, was when I asked a coffee shop owner if he took dollars.  His only response was a shrug of the shoulders that seemed to say, “What is a dollar?”  Apparently, I had found a place that didn’t think America was the center of the universe.

Later that day, we continued our journey to Niger and arrived near midnight and I was sure we had somehow been diverted and landed on the moon.  The landscape, the sounds, the sights, the smells and the culture were so different…and that was just the beginning. Though I had spent three years in Europe and made a journey to the Eastern European country of Bulgaria, nothing prepared me for this.  Even though we were in the capital city of Niamey there was still extreme poverty and many dirt roads.  Amazing.  But that was nothing compared to “the bush.”

We were more than just on the edge of the vast, almost endless Sahara desert where the scrub bushes and sand seemed to go on forever.  With the exception of our own faces, everyone there bore the signs of desert life.  Faces were weathered and worn by the desert winds and feet were toughened by the grinding of the sand.  And yet, the people were amazingly content.  Things such as family and friendship seemed to matter more than anything western culture provided.  It was eye opening.

We were in the bush for several days and every day was an adventure and every day we learned more and more about this harsh, yet beautiful place at the edge of the Sahara with all its challenges and opportunities.  We slept out in the desert air, we took bucket baths because there was no running water, we lived by flashlights because there was no electricity, and we ate new and strange foods…very strange.  I learned that millet was not on my favorite food list and I also learned that this southern boy could, with difficulty, go without bread.

Well, we more than survived and would return a half dozen times or so to this different part of the world before the political climate closed that door and we had to move on to another part of West Africa. That was another adventure and another story. But as I looked at those pictures and went back…reminisced…remembered, I realized, at least for me, that was a difficult trip.  For one who was used to so many creature comforts, it was hard. I also looked at some pictures from another trip to the bush a couple of years later and looked into the eyes of weary westerners—tired from a long day’s ministry, loving and helping people and remembered…it was hard.

But here’s the deal.  It was worth it…in fact, it was more than worth it.  Those trips, those days, were some of the most memorable days we have spent on the African continent. During those days I made friendships with people and learned from them.  They left their fingerprints on my life and heart and I am different today.  I hope that I too left good fingerprints on their lives—good impressions of Someone much greater than me.  We told Bible stories during those days and for many that was something new—something they had never heard, Someone, they had never known.  I still remember how some were bewildered and some intrigued.  Yes, it was worth all the hard and only eternity will tell the final impact.

Worth.The.Hard.  That is not only true for trips to West Africa or other difficult places, it is true of life.  You see, everyone’s journey is different, and everyone’s journey will include easy and it will include hard—and both are beneficial.  The easy refreshes us like a desert oasis and the hard teaches us like a strenuous workout at the gym.  If and when, we learn we need both, life takes on a different and better meaning.  We stop holding on only to the easy and learn to embrace the hard and we are better.

Paul, a guy in the Bible who knew a lot about easy and hard said, “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us.”  Paul learned to appreciate both sides of the coin—the refreshment of easier days and the challenge of difficult ones.  How about you?  Can you imagine a better outcome when the harshness of life brings profit instead of loss?  I know it is a challenge and a lesson that I am still learning.  But there is one lesson that is at the top of my to-do list—to remember and believe, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne 

Posted in communication, friends, life, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God

Prayer Secrets

 “This is the confidence we have before Him: If we ask anything according to His will, He hears us. And if we know that He hears whatever we ask, we know that we have what we have asked of Him.” 1 John 5:14-15

Prayer doesn’t always mean yes. One of the more interesting stories in the New Testament part of the Bible is when a mother came up to Jesus to ask Him a question. The story goes like this. The mother of James and John went to Jesus and said to Him, “Can I ask you a question?” Jesus gave her permission and she asked what surely was a very inappropriate question.  She said, “Can my sons sit on Your right and left when You come into Your Kingdom.” Now this was just wrong and you can imagine that Jesus did not grant her request. In fact He said, “You don’t really know what you are asking.”

I think too often this might well represent how we approach prayer. We somehow think that we have the right to ask God whatever we want and fully expect Him to grant the request. I suppose there are several times that scriptures seem to support that idea but guess what?  That simply isn’t the case. You see, in the garden Jesus taught us a very valuable lesson about prayer. When talking with His Father hours before His death, He asked His Father that if it were possible to allow this terrible cup to pass from Him. But then He prayed, “Nevertheless, not My will but Your Will be done.” And that dear friends is the big truth. When we pray we have to be willing to pray in accordance with His will.

Over in the book of 1 John we read John’s take on this.  He said, “This is the confidence we have before Him: If we ask anything according to His will, He hears us. And if we know that He hears whatever we ask, we know that we have what we have asked of Him.” There is the key–if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us. The Psalmist teaches us the same principle in Psalm 37:4 teaches us, “Take delight in the Lord, and He will give you your heart’s desires.” Did you see it? When we delight in the Lord, we learn to ask according to His will, and when we do that, He grants us our heart’s desires which are always His desires.

When we learn this, we also begin to experience the true power of prayer.  Not every prayer is going to be a yes. In fact, someone said, “Sometimes God says go. Sometimes God says grow. Sometimes God says slow. Sometimes God says no.” You see the great secret of prayer is that it is not about getting–it is about growing in intimacy with our Dearest Daddy.  The greatest treasure of prayer is a deeper relationship with our God. Learn that and it will change not just your prayer life but your life for the rest of your life.

So, go ahead. Trust God and pray big prayers and believe that God can do all things…nothing is impossible with Him. But we need to trust Him enough to pray…to say…Thy will be done. If we do, we can have the confidence assurance that “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne 

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, life, school days, Scripture, thankful

The Emerald Buccaneers

 “The Lord is good to everyone. He showers compassion on all His creation.” Psalm 145:9

We were called the Emerald Buccaneers. There are parts of my childhood puzzle that pieces are just missing..and this is one of them.  As I have mentioned in several stories, the Taylor tribe was not the richest tribe on the block.  My Daddy worked at the Naval Air Station as a jet engine mechanic. He worked hard and he worked steady so that we could have a roof over our heads and food on the table.  Momma mostly took care of the tribe and, trust me, that was a full time job.  But the bottom line was that often…money was tight.  And then there was this.

I remember one summer, somehow and some way, Momma signed us up for swimming lessons.  They were held at the American Legion which was three or four miles from our house. I have no idea how it happened.  I’m sure it cost and I’m sure there wasn’t money in our limited economy, but we ended up at swimming lessons and I suppose that is how we ended up in the Emerald Buccaneers.

The Buccaneers were a drum and bugle corps sponsored by the same American Legion where we had swimming lessons.  Now what is interesting is we had no affiliation with the American Legion and so I can only imagine that Momma was chatting with someone, and the topic came up and the next thing I know…I was an Emerald Buccaneer.  I believe it must have been around the time I was in Junior High because that was the only time I was in band.  My sisters, I believe, were majorettes.  I played, or attempted to play, the baritone.  As you can imagine, it was quite an adventure.

For the marching season, the Buccaneers would play and march in several parades.  It was quite a big deal, and, in fact, I guess we were pretty good.  I know this is weird but somehow, I was in junior high band for a couple of years and in the Buccaneers for a while but never really learned to read music…well, at least not very good.  But somehow, I pulled it off and on weekends I would put on my fancy uniform that included a black buccaneer hat with a large white feather.  I was a part of something bigger than me and I loved it.

Now this part is fuzzy but the sponsors for the Buccaneers arranged for us to be in a competition.  We were in Jacksonville, Florida and the event was going to take place in Miami and, wait for it, for some reason, Momma let us go.  Now it was a big deal when the Taylor tribe left the county, so it was going to the moon for us to go to Miami…especially without Daddy or Momma. This can only mean two things.  Momma trusted the chaperons and Momma trusted us. I don’t remember a whole lot about the trip or the competition only that Daddy and Momma made it happen.  How about that?

There is a picture in a box somewhere that Momma took, and I am all dressed up in my uniform marching down the street…proudly playing, well, at least blowing on my horn.  And that snapshot makes me smile.  It reminds me once again of the extraordinary lengths my Daddy and Momma went to make our life adventurous.  A member of the “Greatest Generation,” those heroes that did life through the Great Depression and then won World War II, once told me, “We were poor, but we didn’t know it.”  Well, I’m not sure we were poor, but we could see it from the back porch.  But this is what I do know…we didn’t know it.  No, Momma and Daddy, somehow found a way for us to have and do. I love them for that.

I have another parent that found a way for me to have and do. Some ignore Him, some just call Him God, but I have the privilege of calling Him Father.  He found a way for me to come into His family by sending His Son to die on a Roman cross.  His sacrifice made my life possible.  I know my parents sacrificed a lot for the Taylor Tribe, but nothing compares to what God did for me…and for you. As I look back as my life as a kid, I keep remembering the small things that Leslie and Alston did and being amazed at how big they seem now.  I guess time adds perspective.

I know that is true with my Heavenly Father, my Dearest Daddy.  As I look back on my life with all its adventures…I am amazed.  He has indeed been so, so good to me and honestly, to you too. One of the authors of the Psalms said, “The Lord is good to everyone. He showers compassion on all His creation” and I have been around long enough to know that is true. I know I write a lot about God and His goodness and the fact that if we look closely enough we will find reminders of His goodness.  But I guess that is because it amazes me so.

Someone said there are two ways to live…that nothing is a miracle or that everything is a miracle.  Do you know who said that? Albert Einstein.  Turns out he was really smart…in more ways than one.  So, enjoy this day and spend some time remembering the good and forgetting the difficult. Take the time to pause…and believe…that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in food, friends, Grace, life, Military memories, Scripture

Little Jack Horner

 “Do not judge others, and you will not be judged.”Matthew 7:1

Little Jack Horner may have sat in a corner…but this time he didn’t. It was the late seventies, and we were living in Western Germany.  I was serving in the Air Force and my wife Judy and I were having the time of our lives.  We were still newlyweds and every day, and everything seemed to be an adventure.  Even church stuff.  God was and is a big part of our lives and that was true way back then too.  We were blessed to have a great church family in Germany, and you might say we were up to our eyes involved.  One of the things that we would do is go and visit people who came to church and visited us.

On one occasion a lady came to visit our church and we decided to return the favor.  Her name was Carol Horner and she served in the Army.  She was married but her husband didn’t do the church thing.  He had a thing…it just wasn’t church.  One Tuesday night we decided that we would go see Carol.  Virtually no one had a phone in Germany, and this was long before cell phones so when we went to see someone, it was usually…unannounced.  It’s funny but that sounds so strange today but back then it’s kind of what you did.

Carol and her stay-at-home husband lived on our base so that Tuesday we headed out to find their apartment.  The housing on base consisted of several large multi-floor buildings.  We found the building, which stairwell and away we went.  After climbing several flights of stairs, we found ourselves at Carol’s door.  We knocked.  Soon we could hear the sound of feet, so we at least knew someone was home.  Well, the door opened, a little, and there was the face of Carol.  We were bubbly and she was surprised…and, uh, a little apprehensive.

She knew who we were, we had met at church, and we told her we were just out visiting folks and would like to come in for a few minutes.  She hesitated, suggesting maybe it wasn’t a good time, but Mr. and Mrs. Bubbles, politely pressed the cause and after a minute or two Carol explained her hesitation.  It turns out that her husband Jack, was, uh, a nudist and actually, at that moment he was sitting in the living room…eating spaghetti and dressed only with a dinner napkin. I know you are thinking this couldn’t be true…but it was.  And, what happened next, is too.

We were persistent that night, maybe too persistent, and suggested maybe Jack would be willing to get dressed so we could visit.  She checked and he finally agreed to lay a dish towel across his lap. We went in to find, Jack, who definitely was not little, with a small dish towel on his lap, joyfully eating a plate full of spaghetti on a TV tray. Though he didn’t miss a beat…we might have.  Have you ever heard about the white elephant in the room?  Well, that night there was definitely a white elephant in the room.

We chatted, ok, we tried to chat with Carol as Jack smacked and slurped his spaghetti down.  It seems he did make one or two comments about his choice of clothing, or lack thereof, but other than that he ignored us as we tried to return the favor.  Well, we didn’t stay too long and soon it was time to call it a night.  We told Jack it was good to meet him and was grateful he didn’t stand up as we left.  Carol showed us to the door and there she told us that she was grateful that we came by.  I’m sure because of the circumstances she didn’t get a lot of company. We had a short prayer with her and said goodnight.

As I remember she became a regular attender at our church and no, Jack, never did.  I’m sure he couldn’t decide what to wear. Smile.  Two things were true about that night.  First, of all the visits Judy and I have made through the years, nothing ever came close to Jack Horner and his towel.  To this day, he occasionally comes up in our conversation when we have spaghetti.  Second, though, is something more important.  Somehow, some way, Judy and I got something right that night.  We managed not to judge Jack and to make Carol feel welcomed and appreciated. 

Being humans, we don’t always get it right, do we?  But that night reminds me that people are just people and regardless of how crazy it might seem, we just need to leave the judging to the Judge and leave the stones on the ground where they belong. Jesus said that if we are wise enough not to judge we will find that people are less likely to judge us.  That’s good advice.  I don’t remember Judy and I gossiping about Jack.  I don’t believe there were harsh whispers as we descended the stairs but there probably were some smiles and giggles. You see, you just never know what you will find on a Tuesday night. As I think of Jack sitting in his chair that night, I am reminded of one thing. No matter what, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in communication, friends, life, Military memories, Scripture, thankful, travel, Trials

Zwei or Saar

 “A person’s steps are established by the Lord, and He takes pleasure in his way.” Psalm 37:23

We were so close and yet so far away. It was 1977 and we were brand new at our new assignment in Germany. We had purchased a 1967 Volkswagen station wagon which turned out to have virtually no floorboards just floor mats.  We found that out the first time it rained.  It rained a lot in Germany.  Anyway we named him Herman.  He wasn’t fast, he wasn’t pretty–but he would go…most of the time.

Our friends that lived a couple of hours away invited to come over and spend the weekend with them.  We lived in Sambach which wasn’t too far from Sembach where I worked.  You can probably already tell that things can get confusing in Germany in a hurry.  So, we had been in country about 10 days, we had our international driver’s license which meant I paid someone $15 dollars, and we had Herman.  Not to sound like Gilligan’s Island but we started out on a three hour trip…a three hour trip.

We were heading to a small city called  Zweibrucken.  That is where our friends lived.  The Air Force had a small airbase there where he worked and since Zweibrucken means “two bridges” I assume they had those too.  It was simple.  Get on this highway with your car named Herman and with no floorboards drive about an hour or so, take a left and head toward Zweibrucken.  Not a deal. Right? Well, not so fast.

Soon Judy and I traveling along, excited for a new adventure.  We had no traveling experience in Germany, no maps, it is raining (remember it does that a lot in Germany) so we had miniature swimming pools for floorboards and the antique wipers are just keeping up with the rain.  The directions were simple: drive for about an hour, take a left and head for Zweibruken. We probably should have written that down.

After about an hour we came to a large directional sign.  It said Saarbrucken straight ahead.  Well, Mr. “I’m a man who doesn’t get lost” looked at his sweet, dear “Don’t look at me, I’ve never been out the country before either” wife and said, “Uh was that Saarbrucken we were looking for?”  You know, if you’ve seen one “brucken” you’ve seen them all.

Well, I couldn’t remember, she couldn’t remember so we kept driving and it kept raining.  We drove for quite a while and suddenly found ourselves in Saarbrucken which happens to be on the French border. We also found ourselves on the verge of having to speak French. Since we didn’t speak German either we decided we had better turn around before we started an international incident.

I did a quick turn around and headed back the way we came.  We were disoriented, discouraged and disappointed.  We drove back about 30 miles or so and there we saw a sign:  Zweibruken.  Hallelujah.  I remembered, she remembered—sweet Zweibruken. We exited off of the autobahn (which is German for you can drive fast if you don’t drive a Herman) and as we exit we see our friend just pulling away.  He had come to look for us and was just about to give up.  We saw him, he saw us.  We laughed, we embraced. We had made it.  “Guten Tag.” Guten Tag, indeed!

We still laugh about that crazy story.  Two young people who didn’t know a thing about driving in a foreign country, taking off in a too old Volkswagen station wagon with swimming pools for floor boards, getting lost and can’t ask directions. Yup, life was good. Now if I remember right I was probably frustrated, a bit mad, discouraged and discombobulated. I’m not exactly sure what that means but I am sure I felt it that day.  But the bottom line is we had fun. Even then we laughed at the hot mess we were in.  It was a story we would tell our kids one day.  Well, we have and it still brings a smile to our lips.

I know there is so much craziness today.  So many missteps, so many “I don’t knows,” so many “Saars” when it should have been a “Zwei.” But remember this.  There is a God that is writing this story called your life and He is a God who loves a good adventure.  And the things that we count as disruptions just might be one of His great adventures purposely put in your path for your ultimate good and pleasure.  David in Psalm 37:23 writes, “The steps of a good person are ordered [directed, planned] by the Lord.  And He delights in that path.”  In other words, God has a plan and it is a plan that He has written just for you.

I know I sometimes question my GPS when it takes me down some crazy roads to save a minute or two but I am learning to just enjoy the journey.  Even today, Judy and I love to drive around and try to get lost.  One of my friends said, “Come on down to Pope County.  I can get you lost.”  I might just take him up on it.  I’ll have my trusty GPS and my friend so it should be a great adventure.  I’ll just go along for the ride and rest in Him.  After all, He’s got this.  Guten Tag (Oh…by the way that means Good day!) Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, priorities, Scripture, thankful

Dance With the One Who Brought You

 “But one of them, seeing that he was healed, returned and, with a loud voice, gave glory to God. He fell face down at His feet, thanking Him. And he was a Samaritan.” Luke 17:15-16

Circumstances can make for strange bed fellows. There was a group of guys who hung together–ten of them in fact. Truth be known in another world they would have never been friends. Nine of the guys were Jewish and one was a Samaritan. They lived on opposite sides of the tracks. The Jewish guys would have been raised to believe that the Samaritans were “less than” and the Samaritan would have been raised to believe that all Jews were “better than you” temple goers. Like oil and gas, they wouldn’t have mixed. Leprosy changed all that.

We are not told how, who knows, but they contracted leprosy or the walking death. Their lives were reduced to isolation and suspicion. If you went to Walmart during COVID without a mask, you might know some of how they felt. They were forced to live away, far away, and proclaim their uncleanness to anyone they met. The fact that nine were Jews and one was a Samaritan just didn’t matter anymore.

Well, one day something happened. Luke 17:11-17 tells us Jesus was walking along and He heard this group hollering. They were saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” We aren’t told of how they knew of Jesus or why they believed He could change their lives. All we do know is that they somehow believed and hollered. And Jesus answered.

Over the distance He hollers back, “Go show yourselves to the priest.” There was not a pronouncement of healing. There was only a command to trust. They found themselves at the crossroads of reality and faith. They looked at their diseased bodies and weighed it against faith. A step toward the priest meant they believed. To stand where they were meant “nope.” Well, “hope” beat out “nope” and off they went.

As they took the first step–and the one after that–amazingly they were healed. You could hear the whooping and hollering across the wilderness. Man, were they happy. They were free and they were outta there. Fading in the dust was the Master who had set them free. But wait. One of them is coming back. It is the Samaritan–the unlikely one. He falls down at the feet of the Freedom Giver and gives Him thanks and praise. The unlikely one, and the only one, who gets it right.

Jesus wonders, “Weren’t there ten of these guys?” Weren’t nine of them good Jewish boys?” He was impressed that this “foreigner” came back to say thanks and I think he gets a second helping. Jesus says “Go your way, your faith has healed you.” I think the Samaritan dude got healed of leprosy and a relationship with the healer. He got more–way more.

There are two things we need to pack away from this story. First, the Jesus who was your BFF (that’s best friend forever) during the messes of life wants to be your BFF every day. The One who takes care of your fears and anxieties during the storm wants to take care of them after the storm. He wants to be your Savior, your Redeemer, your Rescuer, not for a while but forever.

Linked to that is this idea of gratitude. When the nine were set free they left Jesus in the dust, “adios,” see you later. They were thankful for the moment but not the minutes following. The Samaritan, however, came back. He was determined not to forget what Jesus had done for him. The right thing, the wise thing, but probably not the popular thing.

The question is, what are you going to do when “this” (whatever that happens to be for you) is all over? Are you gonna run as fast as you can to a life crammed with stuff or are you going remember the One who stood by your side and spoke to your heart? Someone once said if Satan can’t get you to sin…he will keep you too busy. He knows that is just about as good.  You and I need to remember to “dance with the One who brought you.” Over the din of busyness, remember to not forget the One who whispered, “Rest in Me” and “I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Easter, friends, Grace, gratitude, love, Scripture, spring, thankful

One Ugly Cross

 “For the word of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but it is the power of God to us who are being saved.” 1 Corinthians 1:18

Good Friday and Easter are right around the corner and I want to share something that happens every year at our church. It is the story of a cross.  I know all Christian churches have crosses, in fact, we have several.  But each Easter there is a special cross that sits at the entrance of our church.  And it has a story to tell.

A while back our church had two services on Sunday morning—one early and one later.  When people came to our early service on Easter morning, they were greeted by what can only be described as one ugly cross.  It is made of weathered 2×4’s and covered with…chicken wire.  I am sure more than one person sees that cross and wonders how the custodian could forget to store it before services started. What they wouldn’t know is something is going to happen to that old rugged cross…something that will make it beautiful.

Long ago, there was another old rugged cross and it too was ugly.  It was “repurposed” as criminal after criminal was hung from it.  Nails were driven through human flesh and blood was spilt.  Rome didn’t take kindly to those who rebelled against their stern and unfair system of “justice.”  Like the cross in our foyer, it didn’t need to be displayed…it needed to be hidden.  Then, one day, something different happened. Something different indeed.

So, what about the ugly cross at our church?  Well, you see during the time in-between our two services a wonderful transformation would take place.  The ladies would take dozens of beautiful flowers and completely cover the cross and piece by piece, bloom by bloom, that ugly old cross became beautiful.  And two thousand years ago, the same thing happened.

I know, the thought of Jesus, the Rose of Sharon, the perfect Lamb of God, nailed to a Roman cross, well, is anything but beautiful…until we remember.  We remember that He was no held by nails of iron but by love.  We remember that He was there not for His own sin but for ours.  He was there so that we could call His Father our Father and suddenly His old, rugged cross takes on a new beauty.  It is a beautiful picture of love, sacrifice, and redemption.

Perhaps that is what led the hymn writer to write, “On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross—the emblem of suffering and shame. And I love that old cross where the dearest and best for a world of lost sinners was slain.” Perhaps the author was able to see past the blood and gore to a Savior’s blessed glory. Perhaps he saw what we should see…what we need to see. Paul saw it…that is why he wrote, “For the word of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but it is the power of God to us who are being saved.” No doubt.

Well, at the end of our second service, people would stop and pose by the now beautiful cross and its beautiful blooms.  Its beauty reminds us that instead of an instrument of death, it was an instrument of redemption.  Its beauty shouts that He is no longer hanging on a cross, He is no longer tucked away in a borrowed tomb, no, He is alive…He lives.  Hallelujah…what a Savior…what a Redeemer…what a Rescuer.

Each year on the Monday after Easter, our cross was stripped of its now dying flowers and it was stored away to be rediscovered next year.  But let’s make a point to never forget what the old, rugged cross is all about…redemption, rescue and love.  Let’s gather each week, whether it is Sunday or another day, and celebrate an old rugged cross and an empty tomb.  Because they are both empty, we have a reason to celebrate.  Need a little help with that? Don’t worry…He’s got that.  Bro. Dewayne