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

This is God

Hypocrite! First get rid of the log in your own eye; then you will see well enough to deal with the speck in your friend’s eye.”  Matthew 7:5

I got to play God once…no, really.  One evening, and it must be at least 15 years ago, I got to play God…or at least the voice of God.  It was one of those evenings when you didn’t need air conditioning. It was about 10:30 at night and I was lying in bed.  Next to the bed was a window and since it was such a nice evening it was open. It was so close that I could reach out and touch it.  Because we live basically downtown in our small town, night noises are common.  I hadn’t yet fallen asleep, so I was just lying and listening to the night sounds.  Then I heard it.

The alley that runs right next to our property and our house is paved with oil and chip…a covering of small pieces of rock that gives a nice crunching sound when a car drives over.  It is not an uncommon sound unless it is late at night and the car stops right next to your house. As soon as the car stopped, I could hear the sounds of giggles that can only belong to young teenage girls.  I eased out of bed and knelt next to the open window.  From my second-floor window I had a bird’s eye view of what was unfolding belong me.

Like the poem, The Night Before Christmas, I looked and “what to my wondering eyes did appear” not one, but two young teen girls gleefully covering my back yard in toilet paper. The young ladies attended the church where I pastored and one of their moms was driving the getaway car.  I smiled a slow smile just wondering what to do with this.  And then, it occurred to me.  Since I kinda work for God why not speak for Him?  So, I did.

From the raised window, and in my best God voice, I said, “This is God.  What are you two girls doing?”  Oh, my goodness…it was incredible.  In an instant, both girls went into total panic mode.  Paper rolls went flying, arms were flailing in the air and mom was racing the motor in the car.  In total chaos, they both tried to get into the car at the same time.  It was priceless.  After several attempts they finally made it and off they went speeding down the alley.  I was rolling on the floor.

Well, if I remember right, that was a Saturday night and the next morning at church I said something like, “Good morning, ladies.  How are you today?”  Their response was a combination of eyes wide open, eyebrows raised and a mischievous smile.  I don’t remember saying anything more…except maybe in a sermon several weeks down the road.  I mean, who could pass up an opportunity like that?

I think it was ok that night to do a kind of impersonation of God.  My voice really isn’t deep enough but I gave it my best shot.  Impersonating God is a very common occurrence…too many of us do it all the time.  It usually isn’t a voice from a second story window but rather the voice of a judge speaking from the bench…pronouncing some sort of judgment on another poor soul.  It seems we get pleasure from judging others.  I think it might make us feel bigger while making them feel smaller.

It’s certainly not a new thing.  The Bible is full of words and warnings about playing judge in place of God.  My favorite is when Jesus uses an illustration about some guy who has a big log sticking out of his eye.  That guy walks over to his buddy and says, “Hey dude…you need to get the splinter out of your eye.”  Jesus was certainly the master storyteller and in this case His point was clear.  Who are we to judge anybody when our faults are often bigger than theirs?  And besides that, aren’t we supposed to leave the judging to the Judge?  Uh, that would be a yes.

Well, if you are ever given the opportunity to use your God voice to scare a couple of young teens, aw, go for it.  It was a blast.  But the next time you are tempted to cast a stone or take a seat on the Judge’s seat…you might want to resist the urge.  The same Bible that talks about leaving the judging to the Judge talks about if you judge others…you might just find yourself being judged by your peers.  And some of them aren’t too kind.  And if you’ve been judged, tried, and convicted by one of those unlawful judges don’t worry about it.  There is only one Judge that matters, and He is on your side.  So, rest easy…He’s got this.

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, Scripture, thankful, Trials, wisdom

It Wasn’t Pretty

As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool repeats his foolishness.” Proverbs 26:11

It just wasn’t pretty.  When we arrived in Cobden, Illinois in 1986 they provided a home for us.  The only problem was the church was “L” shaped and the house sat right in the middle of the “L.”  The reason that was a problem was whenever someone needed something, they knew right where to come.  We might as well have had a billboard in our front yard advertising where the preacher lived. Every person needing some gas or baby diapers knew right where to come. That was all fine except I do believe they watched to see when we were eating supper before they rang the doorbell.

Sometimes it was a church member needing in the building.  Early, oh, about 6:30 am, one Saturday morning my wife Judy and I were still snuggled down in our bed. About that time, we heard someone first pulling on the front door of the church and then hollering, “Where’s that preacher and why is the door locked?” Well, the preacher was still in bed, after all it was Saturday, it was just after daybreak, and the door was locked for that reason. It was just about that time when Judy said, “Dewayne, we need to move.” So, the church said OK, and we found an older Victorian home, made a ridiculously low offer (because that is all we could afford) and to everyone’s surprise they said yes. Holy moly.

We moved and began life as homeowners.  Homeowners meant that we were responsible for everything.  Things like yard stuff. Things like trimming trees.  Things like getting stuck in a tree while trimming it.  Yup, that’s right.  In our backyard was a large and old Redbud tree.  While it was still alive, it had seen better days.  In fact, there were several dead limbs up in the tree.  Mr. Homeowner, that’s me, decided to trim it up.  I didn’t have a ladder, so I found a bucket, or a stool, or something to stand on and managed to get up in the tree.  I sawed away with my handy pruning saw and soon I was ready to get back down. It was then that I discovered the laws of climbing a tree using a bucket or something.  It wasn’t pretty.

I decided it would be best to go down backwards facing the tree. It sounded like a sound idea.  It wasn’t.  With one foot in a crook of the tree, I gingerly lowered my other leg to the stool or bucket or whatever it was. And, as fate would have it, my foot landed not in the middle but on the edge of whatever it was and yes, it tipped over.  And what happened next still causes me to groan.  As the bucket or stool or whatever it was tipped over, I found myself with one leg caught in the tree and my other leg on the ground. In other words,…I was in trouble.  My foot with my leg attached was over my head and I was in pain.  For a gymnast…no problem.  For a ballerina, no problem.  For a slightly out of shape preacher, homeowner…big problem.

It was so bad I have managed to block out the details of the rescue.  I think it involved me hollering, Judy hearing and coming, and her somehow freeing my leg from the crook of the tree. I was grateful…boy, was I grateful. Like Jacob who left an encounter with God with a limp, I left the tree with a hip that holds grudges. To this day, whenever I raise my leg to do something, I am not so gently reminded of that day.  I did something to something, and it was a lifetime reminder to not use a bucket, or a stool, or some other something other than a ladder to climb into a tree.  I. Learned.

One thing that most living animals have is the ability to learn.  Bucks get to be big bucks by learning when and where to go and not go.  All the family dogs know who to beg for food from.  His name is Papa.  You get the idea.  So, assuming you don’t die from climbing a tree without the proper tools, at least you learn how not to do it…and that is valuable.  As we journey through life, God usually gives us a chance to learn.  The important thing is to…wait for it…learn.  Everyone makes mistakes but it is simply foolish to keep making the same ones over and over again. The author of Proverbs says it this way, “As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool repeats his foolishness.” Sometimes the Bible just lays it out there, doesn’t it?

Well, that was a one-time experience.  I can’t say that is true for everything I’ve done, but it was true about that one thing.  There are some things in life that once is enough.  But what do you do if you find your leg hung in a tree above your head?  Well, you holler and pray.  If you are lucky someone might hear you.  The good news is that God will hear you and while I don’t know if and how the rescue might come, I do know He won’t laugh at you.  He will just whisper, “I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Unwanted Legacy

Do not be deceived: “Bad company corrupts good morals.”

1 Corinthians 15:33

It was an unwanted legacy.  My wife Judy and I have three adult daughters. It is a standing joke in our house that anything that is bad or negative (weight, cholesterol, heart issues, blood pressure, etc) always come from me…the dad.  The good stuff invariably is attributed to the mom.  Now there can be no doubt that our daughters get their good looks from her, but I think there might be a little prejudice about this other stuff.  I am sure it all can’t possibly come from me.  Or can it?  You see, sometimes I think that I might, accidentally, unintentionally pass on an unwanted legacy.  Let me give you an example.

So back in August of last year I went dancing with my worse girlfriend, Corena.  In case you don’t know that was my nickname for the COVID virus.  Yes, I had been vaccinated but regardless she asked if I wanted to dance and apparently, I said yes.  It wasn’t fun.  As COVID cases go, might wasn’t too bad but it was enough to make me glad when the dance was over. Fortunately, as far as I know, no one, including my wife, came down with it.  After a week or so, it was all over and in the rearview mirror.  No harm, no foul just a bump in the road of life.

Well, late this past fall I started feeling crummy again.  I checked in with my doctor and friend and he quickly diagnosed me with the flu—let’s nickname that “Flo”.  Now this wasn’t the stomach flu…this was the real deal.  I’m not sure if it was Type A or Type B but I do know it was the kind that made you want to die. It, like Corena, lasted long enough for me not to want to have it again and I was glad when she waltzed out of the room.

Well, it all started on a Friday evening. I developed a cough and just started crashing.  Unfortunately, three of my grandsons were spending the night and not knowing what the deal was…they just cuddled up with “Papa.” As the night went on it was apparent that I had something, but we just didn’t know what.  The next day they all loaded up and went home and I went to bed. At the time I didn’t know what I had but I hated that I might have infected them. My diagnosis didn’t arrive until Sunday and the bad news came on Monday.

Yup…my daughter called and two of the three had an unexpected, unwanted legacy.  It wasn’t high blood pressure, or cholesterol, or hair loss…it was the flu.  Fortunately, there weren’t any complications, but they sure felt lousy for several days.  I can remember Judy talking on her phone to our daughter with the speaker on and I could hear one of coughing and it just broke my heart.  Unexpected, unintentional, or not…I had infected, impacted them.  It was an unexpected, unwanted legacy.

Well, all that thankfully is in the rearview mirror but the whole deal left me with an important lesson.  Whether it is a health deal or some other sort of deal, we need to understand and realize that we are all impacting those around us.  And, often, it is the ones closest to us…the ones we love the most.  Of course, there are plenty of good legacies and for those we can and should be grateful and proud.  But there are others…actions and words that scar or habits that hurt…that we need to arrest so we can avoid passing them down and around.  Perhaps it would be a good idea to take our “legacy temperature” frequently. Perhaps we should ask and honestly answer the question, “Is there something that might be a story, a memory, a habit that might be an unwanted legacy?” If there is, we should take action to stop it or change it.  The good news is- rarely is it too late to stop before there is an unwanted impact or infection.

It’s probably not the best verse for this story but it sure rings true.  Paul, the one who wrote a bunch of the New Testament Bible said, “Do not be deceived: “Bad company corrupts good morals.” Usually, bad company is intentional, and unexpected and unwanted legacies are not…but the outcome can be same.  So, starting today, ask the hard questions and make sure what you are leaving behind is not only worth sharing but a story that would make others smile.  Need a little help?  I know just the one…my Dearest Daddy. He is always there, always willing to help.  He’s got this too. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in forgiveness, friends, Grace, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, Trials

That Love Your Neighbor Thing

You have heard the law that says, ‘Love your neighbor’ and hate your enemy. But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! In that way, you will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:43-45

“You’re nothing but a little Hitler.”  The life of a pastor is always interesting.  You really never know what is going to come your way.  I’ve been doing this pastor thing for 40 years now and I know two things.  First, generally speaking, the sun will come up tomorrow.  There is no guarantee, but it has a pretty good track record.  Second, you (pastor or not) are going to step in someone’s mess today.

Her name was Karen. Her mother attended our church and she and her two boys would occasionally visit.  I decided one day to go by and just let her know that we enjoyed having her visit.  I mean it sounded like a good thing, it sounded like the right thing.  What could possibly go wrong, right?  Well, I pulled into her driveway and went up to the door.  I did my gentle, nonthreatening knock and she came to the door.  I gave the standard, “Hi Cindy, I just wanted to come by and let you know we are so glad you are visiting with us” spill.  It was pleasant…it was sincere.

I don’t remember everything she said that day.  It could be “pastoral amnesia.”  That is a defense mechanism that pastors must use to guard their hearts when someone decides it is their spiritual gift to break them. It might be PTSS (Pastor Traumatic Stress Syndrome) where the event was so traumatic that you block it out.  Anyway…she cut loose and the two things I do remember included something about me running a cult and brain washing people.  The last thing I remember was when she said, in all seriousness, “You are nothing but a little Hitler.”

Well, that hurt—a lot.  It hurt so much that 30 years later I can still hear her voice, still feel her words, and still wish I had never knocked on that door.  Not too long ago I was asked to do her stepfather’s funeral and when I saw her all the hurt came flooding back. The anger was long gone but the scar ran deep. There is an old saying that is a lie.  It says, “Sticks and stone may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”  Really?  I wonder who came up with that one.  They must have been deaf and blind.  Words are an incredibly powerful tool or weapon—depending on the sender.

I am still amazed at the emotional energy that chance encounter had for me that day.  But it wasn’t chance…it was somehow prescribed by my Dearest Daddy to help me grow to be more like Jesus.  He knew (and He was right) that there would be many more awkward moments in the days ahead and I needed to learn about how to handle them…like Jesus.  One morning, I listened to a devotional by one of my favorite writers, Bob Goff.  He was talking about loving your enemies…or maybe folks who act like your enemies. He quoted Jesus and here’s what Jesus said, “You have heard the law that says, ‘Love your neighbor’ and hate your enemy. But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! In that way, you will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven.”

Wow…that is way powerful.  Bob’s day job is being a lawyer. He told a story about a witch doctor in Uganda that he took to trial.  This witch doctor believed in child sacrifice and practiced it.  No one before had had the courage to take on these bad guys.  Well, Bob did, and he won.  Later, he decided to go visit this guy on death row.  The former witch doctor, who had become a Christ follower, told Bob that he forgave him.  That confused Bob because the other guy was the bad guy.  But what is important is the former witch doctor was extending grace because he wanted to be like Jesus…like his Father.  How about that?

This two year and running mess has been a breeding ground for more than germs…it has been a breeding ground for division, unkindness, judging, and hurting.  I know it and you know. And, unfortunately, God’s kids have not been exempt.  This world is watching and seeing and wondering if this God thing is real or a hoax.  One way we can show them that Jesus is the real deal is by loving one another.  Just because the evening news is filled with hate and bitterness doesn’t mean it should infect our Jesus world.  Remember He said that the world would know we are Christians by our love…not our dogmatism.

I put something on the church sign a while back. It said, Jesus First. Before. Everything. Else. Period.  I believe that.  He is more important than COVID, masks, politics, and everything else.  He is first and when we allow Him to be first…we all do better.  Our world does better. Our marriages do better. Our churches do better.

Our challenge, as we continue this journey called life, if you are a Jesus follower, is to make sure you are following closely.  Mimic His every Word and every step.  And if you are not yet a follower, I hope you soon will be.  I know sometimes we Jesus followers don’t get it right—but trust me He never gets it wrong.  You can rest in Him.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

Daddy’s Babies

Dear friends, if God loved us in this way, we also must love one another.” 1 John 4:11

Daddy had eight children and a whole lot of babies.  I was always amazed that Daddy and Momma had eight children.  I’m not sure they ever figured out what was going on, but I sure am glad it took them as long as it did!  If they had stopped a little sooner, well, I wouldn’t have made the cut. In the Taylor tribe we all know they were striving for perfection, and it just took a while—you know the whole saving the best for last thing.  Honestly, and not kidding, maybe too they knew that the things that really matter in life can’t be found in a store.  Maybe they realized that family, and lots of it, was better than fancy houses and nice cars.

Well, like I said, my Daddy had lots of other babies besides the ones he and Momma gave names too.  You see, my Daddy loved flowers.  He loved his amaryllises, and he loved his bromeliads. The first he would carefully cultivate and sometimes even guard.  I remember he had a beautiful all white one that someone actually dug up and stole from our yard.  He was not happy.  The bromeliads were placed under the large oak trees we had and needed just a little care…until the weather changed.  Since it was north Florida, it didn’t happen often but sometimes the temperature would drop near freezing and when it did, the call always rang out, “Dewayne, you need to bring in the bromeliads”.  That meant carrying each pot into the breezeway or garage to protect them from the cold.  They were scratchy and heavy but all that didn’t matter.  He had to protect the babies.

His most favorite babies also needed the most care.  They lived in the backyard in a large diamond shaped garden.  It was his prized rose garden.  I can’t remember exactly how many lived there but it was probably a couple dozen or more.  These did have names and three that stick out in my memory are Mr. Lincoln, Peace, and Tropicana. I do remember that across the backyard these needy, sticky, bushes rewarded him and us with beautiful blooms throughout the growing season. But…they were needy.

Daddy would come home from work about four, have a cup of coffee with Momma in the backyard under the tree and then see what the babies needed.  Sometimes, often actually, there was pruning to do.  I know regular flowering bushes get “deadheaded” but that was much too common for Daddy’s babies…they were always pruned. They also frequently needed to be sprayed with an insecticide.  It seemed bugs liked his roses as much as he did. Then, about once a month they needed to be fertilized.  He would go from bush to bush, adding a small cup of granular fertilizer and then work it into the soil and pine straw that nestled at the base of every bush.

All that was pretty much left to the expert eye and care of my Daddy but there was one thing that often fell to me.  I would come home from school and soon Momma would say, “Dewayne, Daddy wants you to water the rosebushes before he gets home.”  Now I need to be honest and say that is not something I wanted to hear or do.  The water hose needed to be placed at the base of each bush and the water slowly, and I do mean slowly, allowed to seep into the dirt.  It easily took an hour and a half to complete the task and whining or not…I did it.  One, Daddy said to do it and that was probably the biggest motivation but there was another.  I was helping take care of something he loved and that was important too.

Well, eventually, I grew up and moved away, Daddy went to be with Jesus, Momma sold the house, and a lot of the babies were left behind.  I’m sure some were taken and moved but others were just gone…all but the memories of a man who loved his babies and loved his kids.  Looking back, I appreciate now those hours moving the hose from bush to bush.  Looking back, I realize it wasn’t about watering bushes…it was about honoring him and pleasing him.  It was about loving what he loved.

Did you know that is a lot of what serving God is all about?  You see, God loves this old, broken world…always has and I always will.  He loves each of His “babies” and longs for them to come into relationship with Him by faith in His Son, Jesus.  He has even asked us to “water the garden” by sharing that good news with those around us who don’t know Him yet. I know it can sometimes be scary or maybe inconvenient. It might even be we figure some of them just aren’t worthy of His love and forgiveness. Well, the truth is that would be all of us because we are all broken and messed up but that never stopped God from caring and loving us.  And because He loved us…we should love others.

In His Book, John wrote and said, “Dear friends, if God loved us in this way, we also must love one another.” So today, why not look for a way to “water” someone’s life with a little love, a little grace and a little kindness.  That would make Him smile.  And He is just waiting to help you.  Daddy showed me how to water his babies and our Dearest Daddy will do the same.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne 

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

Life From Ashes

The Lord Himself will fight for you. Just stay calm.” Exodus 14:14

It was a night that will not be forgotten.  For many years, my family has visited the Pigeon Forge, Tennessee area for vacation. It has not been every year – but occasionally.  We love the trails and the mountains and, of course, all the places to eat.  In some ways it is like a county fair because fair food and rides are everywhere.  Several years ago, we began joining my daughter and son-in-law with the grandkids in the fall…usually in November.  In a word, it is fun.

In 2016 something happened that changed that area forever.  A fire started by human hands near Chimney Tops on November 28th of that year and quickly spread through the dry, tinder forests.  The results were catastrophic and have been cited as the worst natural disaster in Tennessee history.  Before it was all said and done, 14 people lost their lives, 2,460 buildings were destroyed, and 17,900 acres were burned.  We watched on the news as it happened but also saw from a distance some of the devastation years later when we visited.  There was safety in that, on television and from a distance, but what happens when the tragedy gets more personal?

A couple of years later we once again returned to the Gatlinburg area.  Rebecca, my daughter, always makes the reservation, and she did again this time.  As we were driving to the cabin, we passed through an area that had obviously been damaged by the wildfire.  Judy made the comment that according to the GPS we were not too far from our cabin.  We could look up on the ridge and see many cabins far above the valley floor.  What we did not see was a lot of trees.  Apparently, the fire had destroyed them.

As we made our turn on the road that would lead to our cabin, it soon became apparent that we would see the power of the fire from that night up close.  The higher we climbed, the more we saw.  There were trees scarred by the flames and only the foundations remaining where cabins worth hundreds of thousands of dollars had once stood.  Some cabins had been rebuilt, some were being rebuilt, and some, well, stood as silent witnesses of destruction.  It was harsh, it was sad, it was awakening.  Suddenly the memories of what I saw on the news four years ago came to life like the dry bones Jeremiah saw in the Bible.

After an almost two-mile trip up the mountain, we came to our cabin.  There it stood, looking strangely new in one of Gatlinburg’s esteemed older rental areas.  It was indeed new because it, like almost every house in the area, had been destroyed by the fire that night.  In front of the house was a twenty-foot section of tree that, while not alive, still sends a message.  Carved into the massive trunk were the words “Smoky Strong.”  I’m sure the tree was alive and well the night the fire swept the mountain, but even today it sends a message…we are not done.

All around the area were signs of destruction…of what used to be.  But wait…don’t miss this.  Also, all around the area were signs of new life, of renewal, of rebirth.  New trees are replacing those lost, new homes are replacing the damaged, and many foundations will one day bear a new building.  The pain and suffering of that night is being replaced by the hope of the future.  I think we all can learn a lesson from Gatlinburg.  Over the last couple of years, a fire of sorts has swept thru our nation.  It bore several names, names like COVID, disunity, racism, and its flames were the flames of fear and hatred. The question is what will we do with this hot mess?  That is a question we have been asking now for too many months.

I’m sure many have concluded that life will never be the same, and that is probably true.  But why do we have to assume that this also means it won’t be better?  Why do we have to assume that our best days are behind us?  I know this.  God is still God, and the last time I checked, He has not given up control to His enemy the Devil, or fear, or COVID.  Moses, speaking for God, said, “The Lord Himself will fight for you. Just stay calm.” You see, He still reigns, and as long as that is true then the best is yet to come. The.Best.Is.Yet.To.Come.

I’m sure the house that once stood there was beautiful in its own rights.  I never saw it, but I sat in its successor, and it was beautiful.  I stood on the deck and had a clear view of the mountains and the valley below—a view that may have been obscured by the trees of the old normalcy.  Perhaps the ability to see clearer is a gift.  Perhaps the ability to trust God deeper is a gift from our Heavenly Father.  No, as I have said before, COVID and all its side effects are not good, but God can and will bring good from it.  For some of us, that means a deeper trust in Him. For some, it means a clearer view of what really matters in life.  For some, it will be the realization that it is good to have a Dearest Daddy we can rest in—knowing He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, travel

Trust Your Purpose

For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago.” Ephesians 2:10

His name was Scott, and he was doing God stuff in Africa.  In my office there is a picture.  It shows a group of people under a tree, and it is very apparent that we are not in Kansas anymore.  There is a lady dressed in African attire with her hand on the head of an African man. There are four African folks sitting and watching.  Next to the man are two men…myself and a man much my junior, Scott.  And indeed, he was there doing God stuff.  In fact, that is why we were under the tree.

You see, under the tree was a man who said he was possessed by a demon and, needed, wanted, our help.  So, we laid hands upon the man asking Creator God, the One that is not bound by time, space or borders, to intervene in this man’s life.  Soon, our time was finished. The man was at peace, the other Africans probably mystified by it all and we, the three from another time and place, were grateful for the opportunity to represent God in this hard place called Mali.

So exactly how did two American men so different in starting points, backgrounds, and generations end up under a tree in Africa?  Well, it was a God thing.  My wife Judy and I have led teams to Africa for years and that’s why we were there.  Scott, the younger man, had decided to give up a chunk of his life and go live in Africa to share Jesus with the people there. For some reason, we just hit it off.  The common denominator was Jesus and that was enough.  Our time together was marked by wandering the various villages where we would visit and tell stories from the Bible to people who had never heard them before.  It was profitable…both for them and for us.

Soon, too soon, our time on African soil came to an end and it was time to leave.  We talked about another time…perhaps next year.  Time came and went and before we knew it…it was next year.  That year we were going to do several things, but one thing was new…we were going to do an eye clinic.  We would have an eye doctor with us and with a few incredible tools we could test eyes and give away glasses.  I took the training to use one of the devices and agreed to work in the eye clinic.  And off we went to Africa.

When we arrived, there was my friend Scott.  He was excited to see me and was looking forward to wandering the villages and telling Jesus stories with me.  I told him that I would be working in the clinic and watched as disappointment filled his eyes. Over the next few days we did clinics and once or twice Scott stopped in to see if I could get away to wander. I told him I couldn’t since I was one of just a few that knew how use the machine.  Finally, on our last day of the trip I did manage to sneak away, and we wandered for a few hours, telling stories.  And that is when I got it.  I had missed an opportunity to use my calling, my purpose, my giftedness.  I wasn’t called to check eyes…I was called to wander…and tell stories…of Him. It was a powerful lesson for me.

I still wonder how I missed it that year in Africa and the picture in my office reminds me to be careful not to miss it again. Oh, and that is not only true in Africa…it is true here in my hometown.  God made each of us and in His wisdom, He gifts us to make a difference.  That is true for people who believe…and people who don’t.  All of us are created to make a difference and that is what we need to do.  I have found and know that becomes much more powerful when we ask God to come into our lives in a personal and real way…through His Son Jesus.

Someone gave me a small, white plaque that now sits on my desk.  It has three words on it, “Trust your purpose.”  That too is a reminder for me to be sure and seek and do what God has created for me.  Sometimes that looks like wandering and telling stories, but sometimes it is something as simple as being kind or giving someone a break in traffic.  We need to find our purpose and then trust that purpose…do what God on purpose created us to do.  It says in His Book that we are a masterpiece created by Him and for Him to do the things He planned for us. Trust me, that will make you get out of bed in the morning!

So today, this day, trust your purpose.  If God is your Father, trust Him to lead you as you wander today.  Not your Father?  Well, He would love to fix that.  Just ask.  And then you can have the confident assurance that He will lead you into some adventures that are bigger and better than you can imagine.  Trust me…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, thankful

Shrek…Once Too Many

“If you love Me, obey My commandments.” John 15:13

It was just hilarious…till it wasn’t. In May of 2001 a film was released.  It was simply titled, “Shrek.” I don’t have time to go into the details, but it was an animated film.  One of my friends asked me if I had seen it and I told him I had not.  He told me it was a must see.  So…I did. Well, the bottom line is it turned out to be one of the funniest films I have ever seen.  So, when I got to our small group at church, I joined the “you gotta see it” club. We would sit around the room telling our favorite parts of the movie, all the while laughing till our sides hurt.  I watch it again and again and again.  And then…it happened.

A while later, I sat down in from of the television to watch it again. As the film started, as the credits rolled, I waited for the first hilarious scene.  It came and went but the most I could muster was a slight chuckle.  And so, it was for the rest of the movie.  Somehow, I had become so familiar with the movie that it had lost its appeal…its humor.  And, to this day, I watch Shrek with only a mild interest.  Like I said, it was funny, till it wasn’t.

I’m not sure how that happened but it might be like tuna casserole.  You see, when I was in the fifth grade our school served tuna casserole…which, at that time I liked…a lot. That day, I enjoyed the hefty helping they plopped on my plate but later that evening I got food poisoning.  It wasn’t pretty.  From then till now, I don’t eat tuna casserole.  I guess I was scarred for life.  Now I didn’t get food poisoning from Shrek, but you might say, the end became greater than the beginning.  Rather than remembering how it made me laugh…I remember how it didn’t and, well, so long Shrek.

Familiarity can be a great thing if it doesn’t keep us from loving and enjoying the things that matter.  The whole “familiarity breeds contempt thing” can be a dangerous separator.  Let’s make sure we guard the things that matter.  Whether it is your family, or your faith, or your career, make it a habit to look for the good while choosing to ignore the not so good.  Choose to remember why you love someone or something and never allow the dullness of familiarity to creep in. If you do keep it fresh, the result will be a renewing affection for the things that matter and a fleeting attraction for the things that don’t.

Jesus said, “if you love Me keep My commandments.”  He wasn’t trying to grow a “let’s keep the rules club” but rather a way to help us keep our love for Him ever before us. He wanted to help us keep our love like a fresh wind blowing through our lives and not like a funny line heard too many times in a movie. So, in 2022, let’s work to keep our love for Him like the first time I saw Shrek—ready to see it again—ready to experience it again. Of course, if you find yourself struggling with all of this, just remember how much He cares and His desire to help you do life.  You can rest assured that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Grace, gratitude, Integrity, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful

Snippet

But Jesus said, “Let the children come to Me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who are like these children.” Matthew 19:14

It’s tucked away in the memories of my mind…a snippet in a sea of remembrances.  I’ve said it so many times by now that some might say it is overkill, but the bottom line is my Daddy and Momma went so far to make special days…special.  The king of the hill, of course, was Christmas but they also tried to make each birthday special. They couldn’t afford it but somehow, they did it. And one of those sacrifices is the center of the snippet.

It was probably 1959.  I was about five years old growing up in a world so different from today you would think that we moved to a different planet. It was a dozen days past Christmas, and it was my birthday. I’m sure there was cake, I’m sure there was a family celebration but what I remember most is the present.  I’m not sure how you decide what to get a five-year-old but Daddy and Momma sure knocked it out of the park that year.

Since there were no K-Marts or Walmart’s, I can only imagine that Daddy and Momma went down to the local Western Auto to shop.  If you don’t remember they were a neighborhood store that was part appliance store, part general store and part household store.  They also had a selection of toys…especially at Christmas and maybe that is why they had what I got.  That year my parents bought me an ice cream truck.

Well, it really wasn’t a truck, and it really didn’t hold ice cream but it was something special.  It had three wheels, like a trike, but behind the seat it had large metal box with decals that said, “ice cream.”  The handlebars had those plastic streamers on each end, the front wheel had a fender and of course, it had a bell.  I can remember driving and peddling down the road in front of our house.  There was little traffic so there was also little danger of getting run over.

For some reason I can remember about a quarter of mile down the road a man was building a small box house.  He was singlehandedly taking on this project, and I decided to peddle down there and he was working away.  I “pulled up” and asked if he would like an ice cream and the reason I remember him, his house and that day was that rather than brush me off…he played along and if I remember correctly, almost every day I would peddle down the road to see my new customer and friend.  The ice cream was pretend, but his kindness was not.  Looking back at this snippet of a memory, it still makes me smile.

Hanging over the fireplace in my wife’s “keeping room” is a quote by Maya Angelou.  Something she said says so much.  She said, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” And that is the very reason I remember this man taking time from building a house to talk and befriend a five year old boy.  I don’t remember his name, but I do remember his heart.

What about you?  What about us?  I wonder will we take the time to be kind…to treat someone with an extra measure of kindness and implant a “snippet” in their hearts? In those days when I was five, kids were supposed to be more seen than heard.  There seemed to be the adult world and the kid’s world and while there weren’t walls there were boundaries and this kind man chose to move beyond the boundary.  He made me feel…important.  He made me feel like I mattered.  Perhaps today, we should try to do the same.  Today, perhaps we should choose to be like…Jesus.

Jesus was famous for seeing the invisible people and touching the untouchable.  He even said one time, “Let the little children come to Me.”  He would have said to that little five-year-old boy with an ice cream truck, “Let Dewayne come to me.”  And I want you to know that no matter how invisible you feel, no matter how insignificant…you are not either to Jesus!  Tattoo that on your hearts…you matter, and you matter a lot to Him.  So, if life seems overwhelming, or maybe underwhelming, just remember you’ve got a friend in Jesus.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

Blinders

So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.” Matthew 7:12

I was blindsided.  It was time for a haircut. Now that is a relative statement—you know like relatively speaking.  I had five brothers and only two of us are left.  All the brothers had hair—lots of hair. No receding hairlines, no clogged drains in the shower, no nothing but lots of hair.  And then there is me.  While my daddy had a receding hairline, he never lost his hair.  Well, that was them and that was him but it sure isn’t me.  It started with a receding hairline, then it became a thinning receding hairline and then it became a full-blown retreat.  I now have a really, long forehead.  I don’t know if it is still in full retreat or if we are holding our own.  The jury is still out. So, I’m trying to say that a haircut for me is a relative statement. I am grateful that getting a haircut still doesn’t mean getting a solitary hair cut, but I do remember the days when there were more than a few.

Now, I keep my hair short for two reasons.  First, I have grayish white hair and I found it doesn’t look quite as white if I keep it shorter.  Second, and I can only guess, it is a carryover from my days with my Daddy and in the military.  For the first 18 years of my life my Daddy made sure I kept my hair short (even though it was the late sixties and early seventies).  After him, it was twelve years in the Air Force, and they made sure it was short. Well, after 30 years of short hair I figured, why change now?  So, the bottom line is about once a month I go see my hair cutter person.  Even after a month, my hair is sparse and less than an inch long.

So, I was in the chair, and she was clipping and buzzing along.  She has cut my hair for the last 15 or so years so she knows the landscape well.  Well, she said, “Dewayne did you hit your head or something?”  I assured her I hadn’t, but she was sure something had happened.  Well, my wife Judy had gotten me a pair of virtual reality goggles for Christmas.  I had used them the night before and the straps fitted tightly around my head, so I assured her that was what she was seeing.  Then she said, “Well, let me show you.”

Before I knew it, there was a mirror in my hand, and she turned me around, so I was looking in the mirror.  I could see something I had never seen—the back of my head.  Oh.My.Goodness.  You see, I naturally assumed that my…oh, how I hate to use the word…baldness stopped at the front of my head.  I also assumed that I had the mane of Samson in the back.  I was wrong.  There in the mirror I got to see what everyone else saw all the time.  While it wasn’t totally a moon scape let’s just saw it was thin.  You might say it was wavy—you know, the hairs there had plenty of space to wave at one another.

Well, I gasped and bless her heart, she did her best to assure me it wasn’t that bad—the average person looking wouldn’t even notice.  She said you would have to look really close to see it.  She was so nice, but I had the strangest feeling she was not telling the whole truth.  And in that moment, I realized that my days of teasing people with a halo at the back of their head were probably over.  I had reached a new level of membership in the hair club—or perhaps more appropriately, the “no hair club.” What struck me as funny was I had no idea.  I really was blindsided.  I couldn’t see what any other person walking behind me could see.  To make matters worse, let’s just say that I’m not the tallest guy in the neighborhood. That means everyone taller than me, which is probably 90% of the adult population, had a great view of my impending hair doom.

Well, that started the wheels turning in my mind.  I wondered just how many other things are there about me that I am totally blind to?  How many times did my impatience at the grocery store show?  How many times did my glaring eyes betray my true feeling when some nice “little, old lady” pulled out in traffic in front of me?  How many times was my sarcasm not as veiled as I thought?  Oh my!

So, I think I might have learned something valuable at the hair cutting place that day.  It wasn’t that I should get a hand mirror so I can see the back of my head.  No, it was the fact that I should, we should, be aware that people are always deserving of our courtesy, our kindness, our compassion.  If we are Jesus people, especially if we are Jesus people, we should make a conscious decision to be authentically nice. The golden rule, which is found in the Bible, says “So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.” Truth is it is not always easy to be kind, but it is always right.  And when it seems especially hard, don’t panic.  God is good at being kind so you can rest assured that He will help you. After all, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne