Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, life, loving others, Scripture, thankful

Coon Hunting

My heart is filled with bitter sorrow and unending grief for my people, my Jewish brothers and sisters. I would be willing to be forever cursed—cut off from Christ!—if that would save them.” Romans 9:2-3

You know, whatever it takes. I love being a pastor and I love it when people start coming to church. I’ve always tried to encourage the folks who attend our church to make sure that everyone…and I mean everyone, feels welcome. Church is not a country club where you pay your dues to be served. Church is more like a hospital where people come because they know they need help. Those that are already there are not there to be served but to serve. So when a guest comes to church it should be treated like a big deal…because it is.

Now being friendly isn’t costly—in fact, often it blesses us more than the one on the receiving end of our friendliness. I figure it might just give them a good reason to come back. Of course there are those times when you need to go just a little further. And this time…was one of those times. When I pastored in another town, a family began attending our church and I did my best to make them feel welcome. Mom and the kids seemed very open and before long they were regular attenders. Dad, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as open. This one, I thought to myself, needs a little extra effort and that is how it happened.

It turned out that Andy was a coon hunter. He happened to mention it one day at church and I told him I had never been coon hunting and he began to describe this late night adventure. Now honestly, running around in the woods in the dark in the middle of the night wasn’t something on my bucket list but seeing Andy get closer to God was…so I went coon hunting.

Andy told me to show up at his house about dark and we would leave from there. He had a coon dog and a flashlight…oh, and a gun. We began walking out towards the woods behind his house and before long the old coon dog began to get pretty excited. So Andy let the dog go, waited just a minute, and then said to me, “Let’s go.” Well, I soon found out that coon hunting isn’t like following a trail in the woods. Coon hunting is like walking, and running, through the Amazon Rainforest, at night trying to follow a bellowing dog who doesn’t necessarily want to be followed. We were slapped in the face by branches, tripped over big roots, and crossed a couple of creeks. Can someone say, “Wet feet?” Yup, just like that old song about going over the river and through the woods…that is what we did…but there wasn’t a grandmother or a house anywhere in the picture.

So eventually, the coon dog gave up and so did we. We tramped back through the woods and after an hour or so, found ourselves back at my car and his house. We were wet, tired and coonless. I told Andy thanks for taking me on such an adventure and I hoped to see him Sunday at church. I drove home and slipped in between the sheets somewhere around two in the morning. I was somewhere beyond tired but also sure it was the right thing.

Best I remember Andy did start coming to church a little more regularly but I don’t believe he made a Jesus commitment…at least not then. Occasionally we would talk about the great adventure and we would laugh about me tramping through the woods in the middle of the night. Fortunately, there wasn’t a second invitation to go coon hunting. Andy didn’t know Jesus yet but he did know about mercy. Smile.

So as we journey along this Jesus road we need to ask ourselves, “What are we willing to do to be Jesus to the ones we bump into?” They say the best sermons are the ones not preached from the pulpit. Amen to that. Someone also said, “People don’t care now much you know until they know how much you care.” Amen to that too. Paul, the guy in the Bible who wrote most of the New Testament said that he was willing to lose his relationship with Jesus if it meant his friends could be saved. Wow…that is commitment. That is amazing.

When you are trying to decide what to do to reach people…or what not to do…just listen for the voice of the Whisperer. Most likely you will hear His gentle voice and when you do just do what He says. Trust Him. Believe Him. Share Him. Oh, and if it involves chasing a coon dog through the woods in the middle of the night, don’t worry. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Stalled on Lake Victoria

Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord will personally go ahead of you. He will be with you; He will neither fail you nor abandon you.” Deuteronomy 31:8

It was like something out of National Geographic. I was on a vision trip to Uganda several years ago and it was one adventure after another.  I was working with a missionary who had a ministry to the people living on the islands of Lake Victoria.  This massive lake is the second largest in the world and is more like an inland sea than a lake.  There are places that you can lose sight of the shoreline and you feel very much like you are out on the ocean.

Our vessel was anything but an ocean liner.  It was a handcrafted open vessel that was about twenty-five feet long and powered by a fire breathing dragon of a motor with a whopping ten horsepower.  We would tear across the lake at a heart stopping ten miles an hour. Ok, there really wasn’t a fire breathing dragon effect, nor were we tearing across the lake, but it was a great adventure!  Usually.

One day, after a long day of preaching and teaching, it was time to head back to our home island.  We were a little late leaving and night was coming soon, so it was imperative that we begin heading back.  Our boat was parked in a small, secluded harbor and from there we all loaded up.  There were only about six of us in the boat and the small engine started and off we went.  As soon as we left the harbor we were greeted by some rough water.  The waves were large enough to be “white caps” and I gave the missionary a glance but he assured me that these were not big waves. Well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and so is wave size.  These were boat swallowing monsters.  And then, after a few minutes, it happened.

As the pilot guided the boat and tried to determine just how to navigate the large waves…the motor quit.  I mean, it just stopped.  Suddenly, at least in my eyes, things got a bit more interesting.  We could no longer navigate the waves, rather, we were at their mercy and no matter how hard the pilot pulled, the engine wouldn’t start.  About then I began a worship service of sorts, part music, part prayer and part personal eulogy. You know, “Friends we are gathered here to honor the life of…” Meanwhile the pilot is still pulling on the motor and I kept praying.

Finally, one of the guys in the boat named Joseph went to work on the motor.  Joseph is a young man that can do just about anything—from preaching to apparently fixing motors.  The shorter version of a long story is that He proceeded to take the carburetor apart and “blow it out.”  Now keep in mind we are still rocking like crazy…and I still am praying and preparing to die.  But I had planned my funeral just a little too soon.  Before long, Jospeh had the carburetor reassembled and back on the motor.  Three or four quick pulls later and we were back “on the road.”  The waves were still big (at least to me) but we were underway and eventually we arrived back at the other island.  Safe—if not too sound.

It really was one of those times that I wished I had paid more attention at swimming lessons because I wasn’t totally sure of the outcome.  But thankfully I did remember one thing. I remembered that whether I am rocking in a boat on the world’s second largest lake in East Africa or driving down the Interstate at 70 miles-per-hour surrounded by people looking at their cellphones or doing life in a tumultuous point in history, my Father, my Dearest Daddy, is in control.  Fate and circumstances are not calling the shots—He is. And if that isn’t enough, we have the promise that the Lord will personally go ahead of us. He will be with us; He will neither fail us, nor will He abandon us.

Now to be clear that doesn’t mean that everything is going to turn out exactly as I would like.  It doesn’t mean that I get to write the script and He has to follow it.  Quite the contrary, He is writing the script and He invites me to trust Him and to believe that ultimately the end of the story is for my good and His glory.  I’m learning that the story never ends here—it ends there.  For the person who decides to trust Him there is always a surprise ending and that is—the end is not the end.  We may change locations, but the story continues.  How about that?

So, I survived that day on the lake and now have returned many times…each time taking others with me including the one that I love most on this earth—my wife, Judy. I do so knowing, that while there are risks, ultimately the pilot of the boat doesn’t sit at the back but up in heaven and He’s got his eye on us and everything we do.  It’s true in East Africa and its true where you and I live.  We can say with certainty that if we belong to Him, we don’t have to worry because, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, life, Southern born

Looking Forward

Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and reaching forward to what is ahead…” Philippians 3:13

There’s a reason it is smaller.  I like cars.  I love cars. From my first car, a worn out, rusted out, 1962 Rambler, to what I drive today…cars have held a special place in my life.  That old Rambler may have been akin to the “Ramblin’ wreck from Georgia Tech” but it was mine…a gift from my oldest sister and her husband. I was 16 or 17 and I thought I was on top of the world.  Through the years I have had many different cars.  Some were new (oh, how I love that smell) and more were used, but each one was my baby.  I try and take care of both of our family vehicles, but mine always gets the best care. Don’t even think about eating in it. Grandkids are required to take a bath before getting in it.  Even Judy requires a permission slip to drive it.

As different as these cars have been, there are a few things that they have in common.  They all had an engine.  The Rambler had a straight line six with a rod knocking but hey, it ran…for a while.  My first new car was a 1973 Volkswagen Super Beetle.  It had an engine too…but in the back.  Trust me that was revolutionary in those days.  Then there was the 1985 Oldsmobile Cutlass Cruiser.  It had an engine—a diesel.  I didn’t know a thing about diesels.  Imagine my surprise when I looked for the spark plugs and found out it didn’t have any! Speaking of diesels, Judy and I both drive Volkswagens these days, both diesels and both get about 42 miles per gallon.  You might say I’m returning to my roots.

Oh, and all those cars had tires, four of them.  They had seats—most had seating for five, but some had more.  Our mini vans could seat seven and that Cutlass Cruiser could seat eight. All had heating and most had air conditioning. Like I said, they had a lot of things in common.  And they all had a mirror.  They had one or two sideview mirrors and then there was one that hung in the middle of the windshield.  It allowed me to see what was behind, and as you know that is important. But there is one more thing that they had in common. They all had a windshield.

In the real old days, cars didn’t have windshields.  You wore goggles and just picked the bugs out of your teeth.  But somewhere along the way someone figured out that there had to be a better way and the windshield was born.  The windshield allows you to see where you are going and what is coming at you.  It is big because it is important.  Have you ever thought about this—the thing that allows you to see the future is a whole lot bigger than the thing that allows you to see the past?  Hmmm. I bet that is no accident. No one can deny the fact that we need to look behind, it’s just that looking forward is more important and that is why it is so big.

So, here’s the question.  As you are “driving” along life’s road, which is bigger, your windshield or your rearview mirror?  I know many folks spend more time looking back than looking forward and that can lead to a hair-raising ride.  You see the rearview mirror in your car is not designed to be the primary place you look.  It is designed for an occasional glance.  Well, that is true in life.  The rearview mirror in our life is there, it is designed, to glance back.  We savor the good times and smile as we remember them.  We wince at some of the more unwise decisions but remember the lessons we learned.  Yup…it is profitable until it is all that we look at.

Living with our eyes glued to the rearview mirror of life is a dangerous thing.  If we live staring at all the past good days, we will soon become discontent with the present.  If we live staring at all the past failures and flops, we will soon become discouraged and depressed. It’s just what happens when we stare at the past and ignore the present and future. Paul, in the Bible, gives us some great advice.  He admitted that while he hadn’t figured it all out, he had learned one thing.  He said we should leave the past in the past and reach out for the future. And trust me…that is really, good advice.

A guy named Brian Simmons said, “The time before us is not one of gloom and doom; it will be instead the best and most adventurous time of our lives. The best for God’s people lies not in the past, buried in Scripture somewhere. It’s yet to come. Let’s not allow fear to defeat us.” Right on Brian, right on.  Remember, don’t fear the future just because it is unknown.  You see, there is a God who knows the future and in fact, in a way we can’t understand…He’s already there. So, settle back, rest in Him and enjoy the drive. Go ahead…set the cruise…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

Diver “Whatever-it-is-itis”

And give thanks for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Ephesians 5:20

Diver what? It was a long time ago but for some reason it is still fresh in my mind.  Journey back with me to 2002…twenty years ago.  One day I started feeling pretty bad. I ended up going to the doctor and first he did the normal doctor stuff and then he began to poke and to prod and that is when the fun began.  He pressed down on my side, and I just about came off the table.

Well, he said, “Preacher, I think you have diverticulitis.” I didn’t have a clue what diver ”whatever-it-is-itis” was but I knew I didn’t feel good. It turns out that diverticulitis is an infection of the colon, and it can be potentially dangerous. Anyway, he sent me over to the hospital for some more tests, some pain meds and a really strong dose of antibiotics.

For the first few days I was pretty out of it but finally I turned a corner and began to feel a little better. Because of how diverticulitis works, I couldn’t have anything to eat—and very little to drink–for several days.  Now those of you who regularly read Grits know that food and I are best friends so for me to go several hours…much less days…without eating is something strange indeed.  Finally, one morning, the nurse came in and asked if I would like some WATER.  Oh, was I grateful.  “Yes, yes,” said the thirsty preacher.

At lunch they brought me a Popsicle and some chicken broth. Oh, was I grateful.  “Thank you so very much,” said the hungry preacher.  At supper they brought me some more chicken broth and another Popsicle.  “Thanks,” said the now feeling better and still hungry preacher.  At breakfast they brought me more broth and another Popsicle.  “Looks just like supper to me,” said the very hungry and less grateful preacher.  Well on and on it went for a few more meal times until finally they brought me REAL FOOD.  Broiled chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans have never tasted so good.

The moral of the story is obvious and simple.  You see, the better I felt and the more I drank the broth and ate the popsicles, the more dissatisfied and ungrateful I became.  It was surprising how quickly I forgot the days when I had nothing.  And that is when I learned an important lesson. You see, when you become dissatisfied with what you’ve got just remember a day when you had less. It’s sure to mash your “I’m grateful” button.

One of things that God is working on in my life is this grateful thing.  It seems He keeps bringing to my attention all that I have that I should be thankful for.  I’m realizing it is a very long list.  Through the years God has sent special blessings and special people to me over and over again.  The special blessings were love notes sent by my Dearest Daddy in heaven.  The special people were encouragers to walk with me along the journey. Together they remind me, they prod me to be thankful.

As you journey, as I journey, and we find ourselves tending to be a little on the ungrateful side…when we are no longer satisfied with chicken broth and Popsicles…maybe we can and should remember when we had less. Paul, who spent more time in jail for doing Jesus stuff than anyone else, wrote, “And give thanks for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” He would later write how he learned to be content no matter what and most of that he wrote while sitting in a Roman prison. How about that?

So, let’s be honest.  Chicken broth and Popsicles still don’t make my top five list—or top fifty for that matter.  But I can remember the time when I thought they were better than fried chicken and a banana split.  It is all about perspective.  This being grateful thing is something most of us will wrestle with as long as we are here on this earth.  We probably should just hang a sign out that says, “Construction Zone Ahead.” Just remember, be grateful because something is always better than nothing.  And if you listen carefully, you will hear the Whisperer whispering, “Popsicles anyone?” And he will smile and whisper, don’t worry…“I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, Military memories, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Life from the Back Left

For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7b

I guess I got in the wrong line.  I don’t know if there are lines in heaven or not but if there are…I may have missed one or two.  If there is a line for being tall, missed it.  If there is a line for being skinny, missed that one too.  Oh, the line for hair, missed it again. Oh well, I am who I am and probably in a different world I would be alright with at least some of it.  But it seems we live in a world where we are constantly being reminded that we always come up…a little short (pun fully intended).

And speaking of short, the Air Force had this unusual way of reminding you that you weren’t tall.  Now, first, you need to know I really, really enjoyed my time in the Air Force. Once you made it past basic training, in many ways it was like working for any other first-class organization.  Now granted, we were still in the warrior business, but Basic Military Training wasn’t the real Air Force…thankfully.

You see, in Basic, we marched where we went.  I’m sure the Army and Marines do that all the time anyway but once we got out of Basic and tech school, we rediscovered the wonders of buses and cars.  But not so in Basic.  So, it went something like this.  The Drill Sergeant would holler “form up”.  Now we had done this enough that we would get into lines about seven across and seven deep.  The sergeant would then have us do a “right face” and would say, “If you are taller than the man in front of you, tap him on the right shoulder and move up.”  In other words, if you are tall, move up…if you’re short don’t.

Well, I simply waited for the inevitable tap on the right shoulder and sure enough…it came.  Then the sergeant would have us do a “left face” and we would do it all over again. The command came, “If you are taller than the man in front of you, tap him on the right shoulder and move up.” So, the end result was the tallest people were at the right front and the shortest people were in the left back.  Well, it seems I spent a lot of time in the back left.

I’m sure there is a reason for all of this.  It certainly must have looked more uniform, and I guess it probably looked more impressive.  I’m glad we didn’t apply this logic and formula to family photographs.  If we did, some of us would have never been seen.  I always wrestled with things like this because it seemed to make me feel kinda…small.  It sometimes seems that the world places great value on a man’s stature—the taller the better and it is true in so many arenas and places around the world.  But there is one place that it doesn’t matter one bit…and that is the place that matters the most.

You see, when it comes to God, He is not impressed even a little bit with our height, weight, or even how much hair we have.  In fact, He is the one who made us and since He doesn’t make mistakes, well, that means He got it right. When God was choosing the second king of Israel, the search committee naturally assumed the biggest and tallest would be selected.  Well, God said, “Nope.”  It turned out that there was a short, ruddy, teenage shepherd boy that, through God’s prospective, fit the bill perfectly. You see, God looks at the size of the heart and not the height.  He looks on the inside and not the outside.  I like that. A lot.

So, as you journey through life, and you are bugged because it seems you got in the wrong lines in heaven (and just to be clear…there really aren’t any lines) remember that God made you just way He wanted you.  When they were doing the selection process for that king, God said, “For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”  Well, there you go. You won’t find any of that, “tapping the shoulder thing and moving up” in God’s family. We made us equal and loves us equally.  And if anyone tries to tell you differently, just remind them who’s calling the shots and remember that no matter what, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Chief Wounded Cheek

For all have sinned.” Romans 3:23a

Turns out this falling thing isn’t new.  If you are a regular reader of Grits, you might remember that about once a year I decide to see if my body will bounce.  Last year it was Indian Point Trail.  I tripped over a root and before you could say, “shoot that thang” I was stretched out flat on my face.  It was painful.  Then a little over a month ago I hung my toe on the edge of my patio and did it all over again.  And yes, I fell hard and yes, it hurt.  In fact, my hand is still healing from that one.

So, the other day, I was thinking (I sometimes do that) and remembered another time and another fall and this one garnered me a new name.  When I pastored another church in another town, we had a great guy named Bob who would take a bunch of us to the Smoky Mountains and hike to the top of Mount Le Conte. We did this for several years and I am pretty sure I made the trip each time.  We would leave early and get to the mountains around mid-afternoon.

Bob was a pro at this hiking stuff, and he knew the importance of warming up.  So that afternoon, the day before the big hike, we would take a warmup hike.  I remember one time the warmup hike was the Chimneys and if you have ever done that one you know it isn’t that long but it is a killer.  As I remember, the warmups made the real deal almost anti-climactic.  And then, there was another time that I remember…well.

So, we got to the mountains and prepared for the warmup.  This one, as I remember, wasn’t straight up…in fact it was kinda level but it did involve crossing a couple of boulder strewn creeks.  And crossing one of those creeks gave me a new name.  As we crossed, we carefully picked our way over and around the rocks…leaning on our hiking sticks and trying to stay dry.  We did pretty good…I did pretty good…until I didn’t. Yup…you guessed it…down I went.

Gratefully, back then I bounced even better than I do now.  That time I didn’t fall flat on my face, I didn’t fall on my side, I fell on my, uh, well, my bottom.  It all happened in a split second, and I am sure if my pants hadn’t been double stitched, I would have split something else.  Well, once everyone determined that I wasn’t mortally wounded, the laughter started.  The sight of their fearless pastor laying, sitting catawampus—half in and half out the water—was too much to contain.

And then someone, who knows who, said it.  “It” was my new name.  They said, “Look there is “Chief Wounded Cheek.”  Well, then everyone, and I mean everyone, started laughing again.  Well, they helped me out and up and we continued our warmup hike but for the rest of the trip and several months later, I was “Chief Wounded Cheek.” Even to this day the memories make me smile because we had shared life together and laughed together.

There is one more thing that I so appreciated about that special group of friends, and friends like them through the years—they allowed me to be human.  You see sometimes people like to put leaders on some sort of pedestal.  The problem is that is a place they should never be because if and when they fall, well, sometimes it is unrecoverable. One of the best things you can do for a leader is love them, respect them, but allow them to be human.  And what is true of leaders and pastors is true of husbands, wives, and yes, parents. Remember, we all walk on clay feet.

Well, I’m glad to report that Chief Wounded Cheek is still bouncing along and gratefully most of the time, most of the people allow me to be human. Paul, the guy who wrote a large portion of the New Testament, reminded us that everyone of us are sinners—you know, broken people.  At one time or another, we have all messed up. The good news is that failure doesn’t have to be final.  The other good news is if we are wise, we will learn when we fail.  Someone said, “If you aren’t failing, you aren’t learning.” I like that. Oh, and the final good news is that when we fail, there is Someone standing by who says, “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, Military memories, priorities, Southern born, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Busted Again

Do not love the world [its ways, its principles] or the things in the world. For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride in one’s possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world.” 1 John 2:15-16

You know, some folks are just slow learners.  My time in Minot was short—from October to April—but filled with memories.  The base was about 20 miles from town and only a couple of guys had cars. We would load up and drive into town at negative twenty degrees with all the windows down to play “freeze out.” We would see how long we could stand the cold.   The radio would be blaring John Denver’s “Take Me Home Country Roads.”  Hey, there wasn’t a lot to do—especially in Minot in the dead of winter.

So, as a southern boy, this cold weather stuff was all new to me.  Some things I just couldn’t get the hang of.  One of those was walking on ice.  Now I had been walking since I was about 18 months old.  The difference was up in Minot you must learn to walk on ice.  The winter of 1972-73 was a great opportunity to do so. I was able to go home for Christmas. I was dreaming of a green and not white Christmas.  Up until that time it had been cold, but we had very little snow.  That was kinda unusual—especially for Minot.

Well, while I was home for Christmas they had a whopper snow —and I’m not talking about Burger King.  Something like two feet of snow fell.  But what happened after the snow was chilling—literally.  It melted…all of it.  Somehow it got well above freezing for a week or so which melted the snow and then it happened.  The temperature plunged to below zero and stayed there.  Forever.

What was left behind were vast sheets of ice.  Everywhere you looked or walked there was ice.  I didn’t have a car which meant I had to walk to and from work.  So, I would put on my arctic parka, my arctic gloves, pull my arctic hood up and take a hike. I would walk one way going and another way coming.  Going to work was not a deal.  I managed to make it without falling…or at least not multiple times.  Going home?  Well, that’s a different story.

About halfway there I would have to walk around the corner of a building.  So, off I go.  I get to this corner and not paying attention, stepped onto a sheet of ice. Bam.  In two seconds flat—I was flat on my back.  Because of the parka nothing was damaged except my pride.  Score one for the ice.  Day two.  I’m walking home and come to the exact same spot.  I eye the ice and ever so carefully step on it and in two seconds flat I am flat on my back.  Bummer.  I crawl back upright, making sure no one is watching, and press on.

Day three. I get to the corner for the third time.  I know the ice is there.  In fact, we’ve become close friends.  I gingerly step on the ice…nothing happens.  As I take my second step and in two seconds -I am flat on my back.  Excuse me?  Is this Ground Hog Day or what?  Anyway, for the third time I crawl off the ice and head on back to the dorm.  By this time more than my pride was bruised.

I know what you are thinking. Why don’t you take a different path?  Why did you keep doing the same thing and expecting different results?  The answer is…I don’t have a clue.  Thought I could beat it? Thought it was closer? Thought if I fell enough, I would break the ice before it broke me?  I don’t know.  I was stubborn. I was a slow learner. I was doing the same thing and expecting different results.

Isn’t that what we do in life?  Don’t we journey along and come to a decision point and fall flat? Don’t we sometimes do it again on Day 2? Day 3?  You know, walking on ice is one thing.  However, flirting with disaster, the kind that has big regrets and bigger consequences, is another. God knows this and tells us not to fall in love with the world—its ways, its principles, its stuff.  Remember your momma saying, don’t date someone you don’t want to marry?  Same principle.  Flirt with the world, date the world and you’ll end up marrying the world.

John—the guy in the Bible—says in 1 John 2:16, “For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride in one’s possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world.” When you say, “I do” with the world you end up with twins—regrets and consequences. Life is harder…a lot harder.  Harder than walking on ice.

So, I finally did take a different route. They say that three times is a charm.  It took me four, but I did learn.  On day four…I didn’t fall. I didn’t fall on day five either. In fact, I don’t remember falling again.  Why? I didn’t go that way. I chose a different route and that route, that path, had different consequences—better consequences.

They also say that three strikes and you are out.  True in baseball but fortunately it isn’t true with God. He keeps picking us up, dusting us off and helping us find the right path—one with less ice.  When I fell, I would quickly look to make sure no one was watching.  When we fall in life, we can rest assured Someone is watching…our Abba Father.  He’s got is His eye on us. So, be careful out there it can be icy but don’t worry, you aren’t alone.  He’s always there. Rest in Him knowing He will be there to pick you up.  After all, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, gratitude, life, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

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 ready, 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 Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, Scripture, thankful, travel, Trials

God and Waze

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and don’t lean on your own understanding.  Acknowledge Him and He will guide your steps.” (Proverbs 3:5-6)

Some things just don’t get old…at least not yet.  One of the modern marvels that still amazes me is the GPS units that are found in most cars today.  The fact that a satellite circling the earth at 17,500 miles per hour and at an altitude above the earth of 12,600 miles can talk to this little device on or in my dash is, well, amazing.  The fact that it can tell precisely where I am and exactly how fast I am traveling is even more amazing. All that is made possible by the actual GPS unit and the maps that are stored inside it.  But that isn’t all.

Along with the satellite and the receiver are the applications, or apps, that translate the data.  One of the most popular, and most amazing, is one called, “Waze.” What’s amazing about Waze is that it is free, and it works in conjunction with most smartphones.  What’s more amazing about Waze is that it allows users to input information about traffic and even where police might be hiding. Smile. 

Now sometimes the GPS devices just don’t get it right.  I remember one time my wife Judy and I were traveling to a funeral in another town.  When we finally arrived where the GPS told us to go…we were sitting in the middle of nowhere looking at a corn field.  I have to admit I was a little put out…as in put out in the middle of nowhere. So, there have been opportunities to throw in the towel on these little wiz-bangs…but that would be a big mistake.  You see most of the time it gets it perfectly right. Let me explain.

Last week Judy and I were traveling west on I-40 returning from a conference in North Carolina.  Waze gave us an estimated time of arrival and we were cruising.  Then, out of the blue, Waze tells me it had found a faster route and automatically rerouted us, but the funny part was the faster route was five minutes longer than the original route. “What?” I said out loud but to really no one. So anyway, it said we were to get off the interstate in four miles and I told Judy that we might as well give it a try.  I’m glad we did.

When we arrived at the designated exit, there were several cars and several semi-trucks taking the exit.  Apparently, we weren’t the only ones using Waze.  As we exited, we noticed an official truck backing up the interstate with one of those big electronic signs.  It was flashing this message, “Caution. Stopped Cars Ahead.” Hmmm I began to be very glad we exited. Soon we were on our new route that at partially paralleled the interstate where we could see cars and trucks at a complete standstill.  After a few miles, Waze had us turn right and we crossed over the interstate and there we saw the problem.  A semi-truck and several cars had collided totally shutting down the west bound lanes.  We turned left and back on to a now totally empty interstate.  My Dearest Father had used Waze, to send us a love note and had rescued us in a big, big way. He didn’t save us minutes but probably several hours.

So, what if I had said, “You know Judy, Waze has led us wrong before, how do I know it isn’t wrong this time?” In other words, what if I had ignored Waze and followed my own best plan.  Well, the answer is obvious, isn’t it?  I would have found myself stuck in a miles long traffic jam. But because, in a moment of faith and clarity, (for once) I listened to Waze and trusted it—I was rescued. How about that? And if you know anything about me from Grits, you know I don’t do traffic jams well…at all.

I know sometimes it is a hard call to know when to trust and when not to…especially when there is a chance that what we are trusting in just might fail or be wrong.  But I have good news! While a GPS might miss it sometimes, causing us to have doubts, there is a system that always gets it right.  It is, “God’s Providential System.” This one you won’t find in Best Buy, but you will find in the Bible.  The word providence means to foresee or foreknow.  And since it is God, we can have the confident assurance that He always gets it right.  We just need to trust Him because He sees what we do not.

One of my favorite verses in the Old Testament part of the Bible is found in Proverbs 3:5-6.  It says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and don’t lean on your own understanding.  Acknowledge Him and He will guide your steps.”  How awesome is that. Add to that the fact that He always has our best at His heart and that is a winning combination.  Oh sure, we can bump along the road of life without Him but if you’ve tried that you probably know it isn’t a real good idea. At least from where I sit, it makes a lot more sense to trust Him each day and in every way.  I’ve learned that Waze is a great tool but far more importantly, I’ve found that my Dearest Daddy is a great God who loves me—and you.  Oh, and, always, and I do mean always, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, life, love, loving others, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Not a Good Night

Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.” Proverbs 12:18

There is pain and then there is pain. We know that some people can be a pain in the neck…or worse. We also know about different levels of pain. There is the pain a woman must bear to bring a new life into the world.  There is the pain that a person endures when they have a kidney stone.  There is the pain of being hit by a semi-truck going sixty-five miles an hour.  And then there is the pain I experienced the other night.

My wife Judy and I go to bed at different times, but we are usually within a few minutes of each other.  So, it is not uncommon for one or the other to walk into a dark room.  It’s not a big deal, really, because we have a light in the hallway that casts a little light into the dark room.  And perhaps that is the reason we do it.  “It” is we put a small pillow or some other something in the doorway to keep the door from closing all the way.  It is more a habit than anything though in the summer it ensures good air circulation. And that night, it was a setup for a painful good night.

Judy was in bed and the room was dark.  Uncharacteristically, the door was closed all the way so when I entered the room I couldn’t see very well. I knew she was still awake, so I asked her, “Where’s the pillow?” It was understood I wasn’t talking about the one for our heads but the one for the door.  I believe she responded, “I don’t know.”  Well, I looked in the dimly lit one side of the room and could see it wasn’t there.  So, I began to walk over to the dark side of room and that, dear friends, is when it happened.

As I walked over, in the dark, to look for the pillow that should have been in the doorway, I hit…no, I sledgehammered, my shin and foot into the end of the bed frame. Let me explain.  Our bed frame is designed so you can attach a footboard if you want to.  Well, a long time ago we wanted to and then one day we removed it because we didn’t want to.  That left the bracket just sitting there waiting to cause pain. Part of the bracket got my foot and part of it got my shin. And when flesh collided with iron…it hurt, and it hurt bad.

I’ve never had a baby, but I have had several kidney stones.  I’ve never been slammed by a semi-truck going sixty-five, but I am almost certain that none of that hurt as bad as my shin and foot did.  I hollered…maybe even screamed! I hollered, well, I’ve already said that, and then I blamed…not me, not the iron frame but poor Judy.  My pain filled logic was it had to be her fault because she didn’t put the pillow in the door. Well, I did find the stinking pillow and I did put it in the stinking door. And I did one more thing.

As my shin and foot throbbed, as Judy apologized for what clearly wasn’t her fault and as she prayed for God to take the pain away…I realized I needed to apologize…and I did.  It was all fine in a few minutes as we drifted off to sleep…gratefully not mad.  Well, the next morning I looked at the wounds again and there was two gashes and one bruise. Ouch.  Did I mention a semi-truck doing sixty-five miles an hour or having a baby?  Judy stuck her head in the room a little later and I showed her the bruise and apologized one more time for good measure…and I meant it.

This unfortunate encounter caused me to realize that we must be careful about pain. You see, whether it is emotional or physical, when we are filled with pain we can say or do things we later regret.  Someone said that hurt people hurt people. I know that is mostly speaking of emotional pain and scars, but it is also true when our foot and shin are sledgehammered into the bed frame. In addition to fixing or removing the problem, we need to plan, to practice how we are going to respond when pain walks into the room—or we walk into pain. We need to plan, or practice hitting the pause button or yanking on the emergency brake of our words. If we do maybe, we will stop before we let our hurt—hurt others.

Solomon, one of the wisest men to ever live, wrote in Proverbs, “Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.” Those are certainly wise words from a very wise man, but it is encouraging to know that even he didn’t always get it right. And guess what? Despite our best efforts, we won’t either.  But the good news is that when we don’t there is a graceful God who’s just waiting to forgive us and help us.  So, the next time you run into pain, hang on–He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne