Posted in food, Grace, life, loving others, Scripture, Southern born

Old Dogs…New Tricks

 “For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?” Isaiah 43:19

Who said you can’t teach an old dog new tricks? Jeremy is my good, good friend. Since he made his journey back to church and Jesus twelve years ago, we have walked a lot of miles together. Early on, we started having breakfast together once a week. It is one of my favorite things we do. We may not hit every week but we do most. He always buys too. I think it is a way for him to say, “Brother, I love you.” I know it sure means a lot to me. And that leads us into today’s Grits.

Over the years, we have had a lot of discussion about grits–not the story but the food. You see being a Southern boy, I love grits, the right way–salt, pepper, and butter. Jeremy on the other hand, being a Southern Illinois boy, likes his with butter and sugar. Sweet grits–unthinkable. We have bantered back and forth about this–sugar or no sugar. We would often drag our servers into the discussion. Then something happened.

We were at the Barrel, we ordered our food and before long it came. That day I had ordered two sides–grits (of course) and fried apples. Without much forethought, I told Jeremy that to honor him that day, I was going to mix my fried apples with my grits. What? Can you believe it? Well, me neither–but I did it. The grits were in a bowl and in went the apples. To top it all off, I added two packets of sweetener. I stirred it all together and bravely shoveled in a spoonful. You are not going to believe what happened.

I looked at Jeremy and said, sincerely, “Jeremy, this is delicious.” And do you know what? It was. I can’t explain it but something about the grits, the apples, and the butter just came together and tickled my taste buds. I even said to him, “This is the best thing on my plate.” You know, I never dreamed I would like sweet grits and I certainly didn’t wake up planning to try them that day…but I did.

So, there you go. Grits, apples, salt, butter and a little sweetener all came together to teach this old dog a new trick. Sweet grits. Who would have thought it? Now if that can happen with me and grits I am certain that it can happen with me and God–in fact, you and God. You see, God is just full of new things, new ideas and the best part is that every one of them is–good. You never have to doubt God and His plans–they are all perfect.

So, let me encourage you to always be open to new things–especially things from our Dearest Daddy. And just like I was surprised, we shouldn’t be surprised when He surprises us. Just like sweet grits–His plans for us our sweeter than we could ever imagine. So get out your spoon and dig in because, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Scripture, Grace, life, thankful, priorities

Brown Ain’t So Bad

 “Jesus told her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in me will live, even after dying.” John11:25

I like brown…after all. All my life (I think) blue has been my favorite color. I’m glad when God created the sky He made sure it was blue and when He created us (at least the us who are not color blind) we can see and love that blue sky. And then the beautiful blue waters of the Caribbean Sea are somewhere beyond amazing. Yup…I like blue. But wait–right after blue comes green. Think for a moment and remember last Spring everything sprung from the ground in a million different shades of green. Think about the pictures of Ireland and their beautiful emerald green hills. Hurry, someone grab some bag pipes and let’s find a four leaf clover. Blue and green…love them both.

And then there is…wait for it…brown. You see normally brown just doesn’t make the list of my favorite colors. If fall was just brown leaves think how boring it would be. Nope…no brown for me…except for today. I just might have to declare a moratorium on brown today. When today? Well, today most of the snow has melted and has uncovered that glorious brown grass.  They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder and I think the same might be true of brown. After ten days or so of snow cover that brown grass looks pretty good. How about that?

And remember this…brown is the promise that Spring will someday come. Just like the white of snow makes us more fond of brown, brown magnifies our love of green.  Just think, one day, and not to far off, that brown grass that seems to signify death will give way to new life. And remember this too…that brown grass isn’t really dead…it is just napping. New life is coming. That is true for grass, it is true for trees and it is definitely true for every Jesus follower. A funeral for a believer isn’t about an end…it is about a beginning. God will one day turn the gravity of the grave into a celebration of life. Just ask Jesus.  Just ask Lazarus.

So, while spring is a bit away, when you look out today and bemoan the brownness of the landscape just remember that Spring is in fact coming…new life is coming. Our brown world is just temporary…soon and very soon it will explode into a beautiful masterpiece of color. We know because He made it that way. And when our time of brownness comes, those with spirit eyes won’t see brown but rather the technicolor of eternity. Just wait and see. He’s got this! Bro. Dewayne

Posted in communication, fear, forgiveness, Grace, Integrity, life, school days, Scripture

Confession

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted in Grace, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, spring, Uncategorized

Good Morning!

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

Good morning, Sunshine! Ok…that might be an overstatement…especially as I get a little older.  But, regardless, I love mornings…especially the early mornings. All my adult life I have been an early riser—like 4:30 or 5:00 am early. With few exceptions, I don’t use an alarm clock and after a wake-up ritual, I am ready to go. 

As you probably know older people tend to lean toward two extremes. One group is sleeping in—they revert back to their teen times. The other group wakes up before the crack of dawn—they revert back to when they were babies. That is me. I normally wake up when the first number is a four or five. I say good morning to the bathroom and head to my favorite room in the house—my man-cave or home office. I usually spend an hour or so with the door closed—it is my domain. You might wonder, “what do you do in there?”

Well, here is a look into the inner sanctum. First, I turn on the lights—all of them.  I found out a long time ago the best way to jumpstart your brain is to flood the room with light.  So, I do. Then, I make a cup of coffee with my Keurig. We are very close friends.  It took me a while to become friends because he had expensive tastes.  But when Sam’s started offering cheaper coffee—we buddied up. Next, I also turn on the electric fireplace, regardless of the season, light a candle and sit back for a few minutes of news and weather.

After those preliminaries, I pull out my iPad and open YouVersion and read several devotionals.  If you are a Jesus follower or a Jesus searcher, you really need to go to your app store and download YouVersion—it for free.  Whether you are growing in Him or searching for Him…it is a go to place. After YouVersion, I read several email devotionals to get some more insight for the day. I also read some scripture—either for study purposes or just to read. Then, either at my desk or back in my chair I usually pray thanking God and asking Him to watch over the one’s I love and the upcoming day. So, there you go.  This best part of waking up is a little coffee and a little more of God.

Mornings are my most productive time. Almost all of these stories are written early in the morning. My most productive study time is early in the morning. Most of my sermons were born then. If exercise is going to happen—it has to happen in the morning. Truth be known, half of my day happens in the first three or four hours of the new day. I often find what didn’t make sense at 4:00 pm makes plenty of sense at 5:30 am. What’s seemed overwhelming at 7:00 pm is no problem at 6:00 am. 

Another of my favorite morning things, if the season is right, is to go out and sit on the patio and watch the sun rise—for the dawn to break and for the day to begin. I have never ceased to be amazed at creation—the birth of another day. As darkness gives way to dawn, as night slips away to day, it is a visual promise from my Dearest Daddy that He is not done yet.  Psalm 118:24 says, “This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.” His job is to make them, and our job is to enjoy them.  Even the more difficult days have lessons to learn…He’s not a waster…He is a provider.

Well, out on the patio I finish my last cup of coffee and sit back and take it all in.  A new day, a fresh promise, another opportunity to enjoy my Dearest Father.  So, what is your fresh start like?  It really doesn’t matter if it starts with a four or a nine.  It doesn’t matter if it is coffee or tea (but I can’t imagine that). It doesn’t matter if it is rain or sunshine…just make sure you know and remember that as you stroll with Him today…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

Miracle (or not) of the Bag

 “For nothing will be impossible with God.” Luke 1:37

There was no way.  We were once again on our way to West Africa.  This particular trip was a medical trip and they were always the most fulfilling.  The needs in the Sub-Saharan region of West Africa are always mammoth.  Since water is always a problem that means food is too.  But second to that is the need for medical care.  Though health care is very reasonable compared to here in America…the bottom line is the people are just extremely poor and often the care they need is simply not available.  That is particularly true in the fringe desert regions of Niger.

This wasn’t a large team but is was a great one. We were all friends and several of us were Africa mission trip veterans.  For one this was her first trip and she handled it like a real trooper. On the morning we were to fly out, Judy and I went by to pick up newbie  team team member. She attended our church and was a good friend.  She has one of the most merciful and loving hearts of anyone I know.  If she has any capacity to help…she will.  Now we had had a couple of team meetings to go over the general expectations including customs, the number of bags you could carry, and very specifically, the weight allowance for each bag…which is fifty pounds.  Not fifty-two or fifty-one—fifty pounds.

When we arrived at her house, the air was electric with excitement.  Since I was the only guy from Harrisburg, I was quickly assigned the role of “pack horse.”  In other words—I got to carry the luggage to the car and load it.  Well, I went into our novice member’s house and picked up the first bag.  I’ve done this enough that I can tell just about how much a bag weighs.  This one was just about on the money.  I went to the car and chucked it in the trunk.  I went back to get bag number two and as I went to get it—it seemed to be nailed to the floor.  With some effort, however, I was able to lift it off the floor—barely.

It was about that time that the newbie walked into the room.  I asked her, “Did you weigh this bag?  It feels a “little” heavy” (I was being extremely generous.)  She assured me that the bag was ok and so with some grunting and groaning, I kinda lifted and kinda slid the bag out the door, down the sidewalk and to the car.  Again, with considerable effort I managed to hoist the bag into the trunk.  All this while I’m going, “Man, this bag feels heavy…but hey…she said…” So, with the luggage on board and people seat-belted in, off we went to the airport where we met our final team member. When we arrived, we got one of those carts to help with the luggage.  We needed it.

Again, with considerable effort, I soon had the bags on the cart, and we headed inside to get checked in.  Judy and I went first.  We checked our luggage—fifty pounds each thank you—got our boarding passes and we were set.  Our newbie was next.  Her first bag was right at fifty pounds.  Go, girl, Go.  I lifted the suspicious bag on the scale and watch with amazement (I think that is the right word) as the scale zinged up toward the sky and stopped at…sixty-five pounds…fifteen pounds over the limit.  Well, you can probably imagine my expression and question.  I said, “What in the world?  I thought you said the bag was ok?”  “Well, pastor,” she explained, “I was praying for a miracle.”  

I don’t remember if we laughed, cried, or both but two things were sure.  First this was one miracle that God chose not to give us. Second, the clerk wasn’t a fan of grace—at least not fifteen pounds worth, anyway.  We took the bag off the scale and placed it on the floor to lighten it up.  Fortunately, some friends had hung around and they were going to be able to help us with the excess stuff.  And here is the picture of a beautiful, beautiful heart. People had donated and she had gone to Bath and Body and bought those West African ladies… bottles and bottles and tubes and tubes …of all kinds of lotions and creams.  She knew they needed it for their dried-out desert skin and wanted to bless them.

Well, we had to remove fifteen pounds of Bath and Body and leave it with our friends.  But don’t worry—there were still fifty pounds of blessings left.  Almost the entire bag wasn’t for her—it was for her new friends in West Africa.  And do you know what?  The whole trip was just one big blessing.  We were able to provide free medical care to so many people and shared stories from the Bible with many others.  When it was all said and done—we were blessed and humbled and God was made big.  We didn’t get the miracle of the bag with the Bath and Body items, but we did get the miracle of changed hearts—ours.

The Bible tells us that nothing is impossible with God and I believe that to my core.  That doesn’t mean that we always get exactly what we want or the way we want it.  It does mean that in the end—it will all work out for His glory.  As we journey thought life, we have learned, or are learning, that if we will just leave it to Him…He will handle it, in His way and His time. Always, always—He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, gratitude, life, Scripture, sovereignty of God

Rainbows and Promises

 “When I see the rainbow in the clouds, I will remember the eternal covenant between God and every living creature on earth.” Then God said to Noah, “Yes, this rainbow is the sign of the covenant I am confirming with all the creatures on earth.” Genesis 9:16-17

It was the right place and the right time. Even when my wife Judy and I go cruising, I try to exercise. Most ships have a certain deck that is marked out for walking and jogging. The Caribbean Princess, our last ship, was no exception.  Deck 7 was the place and 2.7 laps would give you a mile.  Generally speaking I would do six laps. Well, one morning, the weather was a little stormy. The clouds were thick and heavy with rain, the wind was blowing and the waves were rolling. Even with all of that, I decided to walk and I’m glad I did.

Somewhere in the midst of my six laps, I was up near the bow, or front, of the ship. The wind was blowing ferociously against me.  As I reached the very front of the ship, I began going toward the back of the ship and that same wind that was against me was now for me. But there was something more…something I will never forget. As I looked off to the side of the ship, there was a half of a double rainbow. Two things were amazing.  First, the colors of the bow were so vivid. Second, the end of the rainbow was no more than fifty yards from the side of the ship. While there wasn’t a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, it was something of sheer beauty. But…God wasn’t done.

I stopped and snapped a couple of pictures and as I did the rainbow was completed. Believe it or not, the ends of this double rainbow were again just forty or fifty years from the ship. It was something I had never seen before…something totally unbelievable. God had certainly impressed this child of His. The picture I snapped doesn’t do it justice but perhaps you can fill in the gaps and feel the sense of wonder I felt that day.

As I continued walking, somewhere in the middle of the Caribbean Sea, I was reminded that God keeps His promises…wholly and completely. I came away with a fresh reminder of His complete faithfulness. His rainbow that day said it all and so does His Word. All of it, promises and all, are true and like Him can be trusted. So let me encourage you to believe and trust God, His Word and His promises. He won’t let you down and you can rest in knowing that, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne 

Posted in Family, Grace, life, Scripture

Your Slip Is Showing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted in communication, Grace, life, Scripture, thankful, Uncategorized

The Clearance Aisle

 “So I run with purpose in every step. I am not just shadowboxing.” 1 Corinthians 9:26

It was a whale of a deal—I think.  Several years ago my wife Judy and I were at HomeGoods.  She was shopping and I was sitting.  HomeGoods is a great store if you are looking for things for your house.  After checking my email and winning several hands of Solitaire, I decided to at least take a look around.  If you know anything about me you know there is a word that draws me like iron to a magnet, like a moth drawn to the flame, like water seeking lower ground—well, you get the idea.  And what is that word? CLEARANCE.

Different stores use different colors of signs announcing their clearance, but I can spot any of them a mile away.  That particular night it was in a pretty obvious place, so I decided to check out the clearance aisle.  Now I need to be candid and let you know I see clearance stuff like I see Dairy Queen.  You see there is nothing I need at Dairy Queen but DQ isn’t about needing it is about wanting.  I want ice cream…I don’t need ice cream.  Yes, I know it feels like a need, but it isn’t. Ice cream isn’t like air…we can live without it…I think. Anyway, when it comes to the clearance aisle it isn’t about needing it—it is about being a good deal.  Who can pass up something that is like 90% off?  Well, apparently, I can’t.

I wandered back to the clearance aisle and started poking around.  Nothing really caught my eye until right before I was about to walk away.  There was a flat box about fifteen inches square and it looked intriguing. Something was stacked on top of it which is probably why it was still there.  On the cover it showed a round circle with about 34 red balls sitting in small indentions.  It was beautiful…I think.  It was imported from Italy and made of beautiful, and I am not exaggerating, alabaster. It felt expensive, it looked expensive and the original price was rather pricey.  It was marked $39.99.  Nice.

As I looked around on the box I found the clearance price.  It was…get ready…$3.99.  “What?” I said.  “Can it be?”  I said.  “Ninety percent off?” I said.  I mean I was amazed.  I couldn’t wait to show it to Judy.  So, I covered it back up and went to find her.  She was already in line but I pulled her out to show her my prize.  When we got to the aisle, I showed it to her.  She was impressed and then she popped the question, “What is it?”  I told her I wasn’t sure, but I thought it was some sort of game.  There were no rules and no indications that’s what it was but hey, it was $3.99. We bought it.

We proudly set it up first on a table and then in our bay window.  I checked the internet but couldn’t find any information on the item.  I did find the company and they were sellers of fine alabaster but our treasure remained a mystery.  Enter the grandkids.  Judy made the mistake of showing this treasure to Will, one of our grandsons. She explained it was sorta like checkers (really?) and you would jump the balls like you do in checkers.  However, since the “board” was round there were logistical problems.  So, they started to “play” and then he popped the question.  He asked, “How do you win?”  And Judy said, “I don’t know.”

I thought that was great because so often in life we play the game and have no idea how to win.  And, truth be known, it affects all kinds of areas in our life.  How do you win in your career? How do you win in your marriage? How do you win in choosing your potential mate? How do you win with church? With Jesus?  You see, without knowing how to win you are sure to either get bored or get lost.  As much as I believe there is joy in the journey, I also know that there has to be goal, a measuring stick, a finish line.  Success needs to be measured.  If it isn’t, you might find yourself stuck in a rut and as someone said, “A rut is a grave with the ends knocked out.”  So, what are we to do?

It seems to me that we should approach life with a goal—what do I want to see happen today?  Regardless of the arena, try and define what would be a win for that day.  And the best part?  You can start stringing those days together and before long you have a life of wins.  Now when you are defining a win, I believe you should set the definition in line with an authority and I can think of no better authority than the Word of God. Even if you aren’t a God-follower you will find that the Bible is a Book worth reading, knowing, and following.  Go ahead and give it a read.  And if you are a God-follower, well, you probably already knew that—we just need to do it.

Paul, one of the writers of a chunk of the New Testament said that we should run with a purpose and not be like a shadow boxer.  We shouldn’t run like Forest Gump, aimlessly, but rather like Jesse Owens.  We should box like a man in the ring making every punch count.  Run with a purpose, fight like it matters…because it does.   Tomorrow, I think I’ll wakeup and have a chat with my Dearest Daddy, my Trainer, my Coach and get His opinion on how to win in life. After all, He never loses, and He’s always got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, life, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

Santa Claus Came to Town

 “But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8 

It is one of my favorite Christmas memories and I love sharing it.  I wish I could tell you the lengths that my Daddy and Momma would go to make sure we had a wonderful Christmas.  Daddy had a good job, but with a bunch of kids–eight in all–money was always tight.  If I were guessing, we were probably at the bottom of the middle class.  But somehow, they always managed to make sure every Christmas was like a fairytale. One year stands out.

I was in the sixth grade and by now I had moved into the world of “nonbelievers”—if you get my drift.  I remember that year Momma had told me I could stay up later with the adults.  I guess you could say that I graduated.  That night, we visited, talked, and ate.  I’m sure Momma and some of the girls were in the kitchen preparing for Christmas Day.  At about 11:00 pm, I remember Momma telling me that perhaps I should go ahead and go to bed.  Maybe, she said, Santa Claus might still be coming to town.  Ho, Ho, Ho.

Since it was so late, I didn’t put up much of a fight.  I never was much of a person to stay up late—until I started dating that is.  Smile.  So, off to bed I went.  There were no visions of sugar drops dancing in my head—like I said, I was a “non-believer”.  Our house was an old, former World War II barracks and was long and narrow.  On one end was the kitchen, then a small dining room, next a living room with the bathroom and two small bedrooms, a breezeway and finally a garage turned bedroom.  That is where I slept.

The next morning sometime early, I got up.  I’m not sure if someone woke me up or it was just time.  I wandered through the breezeway into the living room where several of the family were sitting.  I backed up to the old two burner oil stove and warmed up a little. After just a few minutes, Daddy said, “Dewayne, go get me a cup of coffee.”  Coffee was a big deal around the Taylor house, so it certainly was not an unusual request.  I lingered just a moment more, savoring the warmth of the stove before heading to the kitchen.

As I left the living room and entered the dining room, I literally almost stumbled on something.  There parked right in the middle of the walkway to the kitchen was the most incredible red, English-racer bicycle you have ever seen.  Now, keep in mind, this was back when bikes were all the rage.  Unlike today when if it doesn’t have batteries or require electricity it’s not even worth mentioning.  It was beautiful. The frame was bright, metallic red, the fenders were chrome, it had three speeds, hand brakes and, wait for it, a generator light.

I was amazed.  Not in all my years could I have ever imagined such an extravagant gift. Somewhere there is a home video that my brother shot of the grand moment.  I was like someone who had just won the lottery—and from my perspective—I had.  I petted it, hugged everyone one I could find, threw on some clothes and went off into the darkness with my new English racer.  And that generator—oh yes, it lit the way.  And if that wasn’t enough, keep in mind this was in North Florida, so it was warm enough to ride—even early in the morning.

Like I said, my parents went way out of their way to gift us at Christmas.  Things might have been lean during the year but at Christmas, they pulled out the stops.  I had an idea how they did it.  Saving was not practical on such a limited budget, but they would get one of those loans from a finance company and then pay it off throughout the year.  It was so sacrificial.  I know I have many things to be grateful for from my parents, but the lengths they went to, so we could have Christmas touches my heart to this day.  I know it probably didn’t make financial sense, but they loved us that much.

I have another parent who did something that didn’t make sense either…and interestingly enough it involved Christmas and Easter. That would be my Heavenly Father. Knowing the world needed a rescue, a redemption, He sent His only Son into this broken world as a baby just so He could grow up and then give Himself to a Roman cross—just for us.  Paul, the guy God used to write a bunch of the New Testament, said it this way, “But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” While we were still broken, still messed up, unloving and unappreciative, Jesus died for us.  Nope, it made no sense but that is what I love about God.  I know sometimes He allows things that I don’t understand…like when I pray for someone to be healed and it just doesn’t work out like I want. But to know that He loved me enough to create Christmas and Easter—well, that’s just amazing.

So as Christmas rolls around, be sure and be grateful for the sacrifices made on your behalf by family.  I know, for some that might be difficult.  But try and find the good that is lurking somewhere out there.  But be sure and thank God for the greatest gift ever—His own Son and His sacrifice, that we can be forgiven and look forward to being in heaven one day.  Of course, the great part too is that having God as your Dearest Daddy means you get the Gift that keeps on giving.  He walks with us every day and through everything, side by side, hand in hand, and we have the grand assurance that no matter what—He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, love, loving others, Military memories, Scripture

I Love Christmas

 “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16

I’ve said it before, I’ve written it before, but I’ll say it again, I’ll write it again.  Once again, it is Christmas time.  I have celebrated Christmas seventy-one times. Granted I don’t remember some of the early ones and I guess to be honest I don’t remember a lot of the other ones either, but I remember enough to know that each one was special.  When I was growing up it was all about family, food and presents.  My Momma and Daddy did such an incredible job of making sure each Christmas was electric with excitement.  While there are several special memories, some were just bigger than others.  One particular Christmas, my sister had asked for a chord organ.  Now that was a pretty big gift and yet I can remember lying in bed…all three of us little ones in one bed for that special night, and hearing through the thin walls the magical sounds of that organ.  Santa had come.

The next morning, with a house filled with family, we would celebrate with gifts, some large, some small, but all given and wrapped with love.  Later would come a big meal and prayers of gratitude for a good God who loved us and blessed us.  Many more Christmas Eves have come and gone.  Some were challenging, like when my Daddy was still recovering from a heart attack, some were much smaller like when it was just my wife Judy and me sitting in a small village in Germany serving our country.  The crowd was smaller, but the love was just as big.

Later, we had children and Christmas began to take on a whole new dimension. Judy and I became more the giver than the receiver.  We had the opportunity to do for them like my parents had done for me.  We watched with joy as their faces lit up with happiness as each gift was unwrapped.  Clothes and toys with an occasional bike or hamster thrown in the mix are all part of the memory.  But through it all, one thing remained a constant…love…love for each other and experiencing the love of a God who won’t, who can’t stop…loving.

Now, well, the Christmas journey continues.  Our children have grown up and all three of them have kids of their own and Christmas isn’t less…it is more.  At some point and despite busy schedules, we will get together and love, and celebrate and be thankful for each other and for the One who makes it possible.  In my experiences of Christmas, I have discovered that it isn’t the circumstances that make a Christmas Eve or Christmas morning special or not.  It is not the bounty of presents or the location, no, it is love.  My favorite Christmas verse from the Bible says it all, “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” Now that is a Christmas verse.

God doesn’t want anyone to miss Christmas with Him and that is why He threw open the front door and hung out the welcome sign.  He simply says, “Ya’ll come home for Christmas.” No matter who, no matter what, you are welcome home for Christmas.  I know growing up things weren’t always perfect in the Taylor tribe but for the most part we did manage to love each other and I’m glad we did.  So, Merry Christmas.  Remember that He chose to love us and because of that maybe, just maybe, we can choose to do the same for those around us.  If you listen carefully this Christmas season, you may just hear the Whisperer whisper, “Merry Christmas, I love you, come on home for Christmas.  I’ve got this.”    Bro. Dewayne