Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, Grace, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

Ham Sandwiches or Not…

Rejoice in the Lord always; again: I will say, Rejoice.”
Philippians 4:4

She thought it was funny.  A long time ago, my family and I were visiting with my sister Kathy and her husband Stann.  They lived way down South in the land of grits and hospitality, and we lived just across the river in Southern Illinois.  We had a great visit with them but soon it was time for us to head North.  All of my sisters are good cooks…something they must have got from Momma.  They also have good hospitality genes.  When you visit you feel welcomed and when you leave you know you will be missed.

Well, when it came time for us to leave, Miss Hospitality, kindly made us a lunch.  She said, “I packed y’all some snacks and ham sandwiches so you can stop on the way and have a picnic.  I remember thinking just how kind that was.  To go through all that trouble and to save us a few dollars to boot.  We loaded up the kids and the car and off we went.  The girls were young, only seven or eight, and Sarah was not even a glimmer in our eyes. We drove and drove and then we drove some more and before long it was time for the big picnic.

If my memory serves me right, we stopped at a picnic area on Nickajack Lake just north of the Georgia border and right inside Tennessee.  It was a beautiful place for a great picnic lunch.  My mouth watered as I thought about those delicious ham sandwiches with all the trimming. And, my wallet was happy too. McDonald’s wouldn’t be getting my business today…thanks to my kind sister.  Did I mention how nice she was?

Well, we found a parking spot and chose a picnic table near the lake.  Could it be any better?  Well, I’m sure we bowed our heads in prayer, thanking God for the food and for the kindness of the one who made it possible.  Judy passed out the sandwiches and strangely, I didn’t see any fixings.  Hmmm. That was a bit strange.  Nevertheless, I was grateful for the sandwich, and I must have been the first to take a bite.  Uh, something was wrong.  Something was missing.

As I bit through the bread, there was no ham…there was no mustard…there was no mayo.  All that lay between the bread was a single piece of paper that read, and I quote, “Ha, ha, Ha.”  Wait.  What? Well apparently, my Southern belle, hospitality laden sister had decided to play a practical joke.  There were no ham sandwiches only meatless, slices of bread.  Strangely, I don’t remember laughing. I only remember mourning the loss of my free lunch. Ha.Ha.Ha.

They say what goes around comes around and all my life I have been a practical joker and this time the joke was on me and my dear hungry wife and two precious, little hungry daughters.  I guess the winner of the day was McDonald’s who end up with my $6.75 after all.  While I don’t remember laughing, I’m glad I don’t remember being mad either.  In fact, I am sure that before long, but after a visit to McDonald’s, we were all laughing and couldn’t wait to call my sister when we got home.

As we journey through life we are going to have a lot of opportunities to either laugh or well, get mad.  Can I suggest, may I encourage you, us to do the latter and not the former?  Too often we allow the fire of the moment burn some valuable bridges.  I can imagine a nasty phone call with words of regret and then days, weeks, and months of silence from a broken relationship.  Crazier things have happened, trust me.  But gratefully, that wasn’t the way this story ended.  In fact, I wonder if Kathy even remembers this. I do and it makes me smile.

Paul, the guy who wrote a lot of the New Testament, sitting in a Roman prison with NO ham sandwiches said, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I will say, Rejoice.” Well spoken, Paul, well spoken. So tomorrow or the next day, if you hit a bump, try to remember to smile and not frown.  If someone decides to pull a joke at your expense, go ahead and extend a little grace and a smile. When you do, if you do, you can be assured the Father is smiling too.  And no matter what, as always, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, Trials

I Just Couldn’t Resist

No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.” (Hebrews 12:11)

I just couldn’t resist.  All of us have stories that we don’t necessarily remember but are passed down through the years.  Some are humorous, some are serious, and some are the things legends are made of.  Well, this one I believe qualifies as all three. 

When I was quite young, probably six or seven, life was pretty good.  We lived in a country setting that was rapidly becoming the suburbs of Jacksonville, Florida.  There was a subdivision being built right next to where we lived.  Some of the men who were working there would drive these cool wedge shape sticks in the ground at the corners of each lot.  They had numbers on them.  They were surveyor markers for the lots.  We thought they made great rubber band guns so we would help ourselves.  We had an endless supply of rubber bands because the newspaper came each day with one or two wrapped around it. We weren’t trying to be mischievous; we were just trying to have fun.  I bet it wasn’t fun for the guys who did the surveying.

Sometimes, our fun might become someone else’s pain.  And, this is where the story really begins.  Back in those days, going to the grocery store was the great adventure.  My dad got paid every other Friday.  Payday night we would load up in the car and go to buy groceries.  It seemed we would always buy the stuff to make sandwiches for supper when we got home which invariably included a gallon of chocolate milk.  It never saw the light of the next morning.

Well, one Friday night, we were at the grocery store and apparently, I had a rubber band left over from my adventures that day. I must have reached in my pocket and found the small piece of rubber and thought, “You know, we can have some fun with this.”  Well, I probably should have thought that through a little better, but when you are six or seven and mischievous by nature, anything is game.  I started looking for targets.

Down the aisle was a rather large woman.  And what happens next has been blocked from my memory but is stated as fact.  As we got closer to the woman, perhaps as she studied what brand of mayo to buy, I took the rubber band, placed it between my thumb and pointer finger, moved my hand, in close proximity to the intended target and let it fly.  I can only imagine what happened next.

First, I am certain she was shocked.  It must have felt like a killer bee had bit her but that wasn’t logical since she was in a store.  I’m thinking she probably spun around and looked only to see this smiling kid with a rubber band still in his hand.  To me it was all fun.  To her it was all pain.  Lesson one.  Don’t let your fun become someone else’s pain.

Second, I am certain my parents were devastated.  Since this would have been about 1960 or 61 there were not the social rules about child discipline that we have today.  Knowing my Daddy and Momma, there was probably swift and lethal retribution.  I can imagine one of them, perhaps both of them, making sure my bottom felt like her bottom.  No one would have called Children and Family Services.  They all would have said, “Let me help you with that.”

Third, I believe that this was when I began to really understand repentance.  Repentance means to turn around and go in a different direction.  If I could have gotten loose from Daddy that night, I would have definitely practiced repentance…I probably would still be running.  The other meaning of repentance is to have a change in attitude.  I am certain that happened.  If you were to ask me how many other times I decided to pop a strange lady with a rubber band in the grocery store that number would be zero.  Somehow the urge suddenly left me.  I had repented.

This is going to sound hokey, but it is memories like this that show how much my parents loved me.  They loved me enough to teach me right from wrong, respect for other people, a strong work ethic and to believe in God.  And they loved me enough to give me a swat or two when I needed it.  It all came together to help me grow, and live and love.

God is the same way.  My Daddy and Momma loved me very much, but God outshines even them.  He loves me and teaches me to do life with fewer oops and fewer consequences. I never carry rubber bands in my pocket just to avoid the temptation.  But He also loves me enough to discipline me when I need it. The author of Hebrews says it best.  He writes, “No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.” Spot on.  He must have popped some lady too.

So, try and show some grace.  I shouldn’t have popped the lady and I haven’t popped any more.  Don’t judge my parents for taking care of the problem.  I am grateful for the way they raised me.  And don’t be mad at God if He disciplines you.  He is way too wise to make a mistake and way too loving to do the wrong thing.  He is our “Abba Father,” our Dearest Daddy so we can trust Him.  We can rest in Him.  Because…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, thankful, travel, Trials, wisdom

The One in Control

Two are better than one because they have a good reward for their efforts.” Ecclesiastes 4:9

I soon discovered who was in control…and it wasn’t me. My adventure with my wife, Judy, down Jack’s Fork River in Southeast Missouri was a lesson in life. Jack’s Fork is a tributary to the Current River. The key word there is “current,” because there is one, both on Jack’s Fork and its big brother. At the launching place the current is hardly noticeable. It all seems so serene, so gentle, so docile. The reason for that is the fact at that particular point, the river is somewhat wide…at least compared to downstream. It seemed to be saying, “Come on in.  Trust me.” We have a saying for that “Liar, liar. Pants on fire.”

As Judy and I launched from the shore I was immediately impressed with how stable the canoe seemed to be. “This isn’t so hard,” I said. “This is going to be a breeze,” I said. “We’ve got this,” I said. I decided it would be good time to test my steering and guiding capabilities for the canoe. If you want to go to the left…you paddle on the right. “Paddle, right,” I said to Judy. The canoe went straight. I decided to try the other way, “Paddle, left,” I said to Judy. The canoe went straight. Hmmm. It kinda reminded me of my teenage kids. It kinda reminded me of me when God was saying one thing and I didn’t listen.

Well, I tried “Plan B” of the steering plan and that is when the guy or gal in the back drags the paddle in the water. If you want to go left ,you drag your paddle in the water on the left side and if you want to go right you do the opposite. Now this produced some results…I think. I say I think because sometimes it seemed to work and sometimes it didn’t and there was a reason. You see I might have been in the back trying to steer but really, it was the current that was the boss. And too soon that became apparent.

About ten minutes into the trip, the river narrowed a bit and took a turn to the left. The water went from gentle to a class 14 rapid…the kind you see on television when people are dying. Waves, 15 feet tall, threatened to swamp the boat. Ok, that might be a slight exaggeration, but the current was definitely faster and stronger, and we did lose four or five boats there. Somehow, Judy and I survived the challenge but trust me it had nothing to do with skill and a lot to do with grace.

But here’s the deal. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, it seemed I wasn’t in control. The current took us where it wanted. The best I could manage was to manage to stay away from the hazards and stay somewhere in the middle of the swift water. It would pull us this way and push us that way and we were along for the ride. Even in smoother water it seemed we spent a lot of time going from side to side instead of down the river.

I think I know the problem…inexperience. I knew the basics, I knew some of the mechanics, but I just didn’t have the time in the saddle, if you get my drift, partner. Someone who had done this a lot wouldn’t have had the same issues Judy and I did. With experience, you learn to read the river and use the current to your advantage. And, equally important, you learn to work together as a team. By reading the river and working as a team, you overcome the obstacles and hazards and that increases your chances of arriving safely…and dry.

Speaking of dry…Judy and I did arrive dry. The only time we got wet was when we stopped for a rest and some snacks and then it was a welcome relief to get in the cold water. So, whether it is in marriage or family, at home or at church, or at work, perhaps we should learn to “read the river” and work with, and not against, one another. The wisest guy to ever live and the author of one of the books of wisdom in the Bible said it best, “Two are better than one because they have a good reward for their efforts.” The current may be strong but two might just be able to overcome it. It gets better.

You see, the same guy says in the same place, that a three strand cord is not easily broken. You see, often our best efforts are just not enough. Sometimes those currents can become raging rapids and sometimes it happens with little or no warning. Why not invite a third party along for the ride? Why not invite God along for the journey? I know that He has all the experience in the universe and beyond and the One who made river, knows the river better than we ever will. As you are navigating the river of life, take a moment and listen from the back of the boat. You will hear the Whisper say, “Hey, take a break. I’ve got this.” And do you know what? He does. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, thankful, travel

Fear, the Canoe & Me

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but one of power, love, and sound judgment.” 2 Timothy 1:7

It was one great adventure.  Every year, with the exception of last year, our youth pastor takes a group of people to canoe on the Jack’s Fork River in Southern Missouri. Several weeks ago, people were signing up in the foyer after services and something very strange happened.  I spoke.  Well, that in itself was not strange since I often say too much.  But what I said was definitely strange.  I looked at my wife and said, “We should do this.” Of course, she fainted and required CPR, but after reviving her, she signed us up. Now I like adventures, a lot, but I am not a fan of cold water, make that very cold water, canoes, and falling out of a canoe and trying to get back in and the potential for all of that was part of this adventure. But it was too late. We were going.

It is funny how things can grow in your mind.  The more I thought about this the more I was certain this was not going to have a good outcome.  I began to say, half in jest and half believing it, that I was going to die.  I wasn’t sure if the cause of my demise was going to be drowning or heart attack from the cold water, but I was going to die.  As the days passed heading toward the day of the great adventure, the dread became more and more real.

Now, I need to be honest. My fear had nothing to do with the water, cold or not. My greatest fear was embarrassment.  I just knew, given the wobbly nature of a canoe, that we would end up in the water. I was cool with that…no pun intended. The problem was the spectacle of me trying to crawl back into the boat.  I could just imagine my slightly (well, perhaps more than slightly) pudgy body struggling to go over the side and back into the boat.  And, by the way, it was not an unfounded fear.

You see, years ago, at another event at another church, I was on the back of a jet ski with a friend of mine driving.  We were zipping along and then all of a sudden, he was zipping and I wasn’t.  I slid right off the back of that jet ski and right into the water.  Well, he circled back around, and I spent the next two hours (ok, a slight exaggeration there) trying to crawl back onto the jet ski.  And, yes, people were watching and yes, people were laughing, and I was dying…not from drowning but from embarrassment.

Well, here I am years later, and that scar still has all the makings of a fresh wound.  Whenever a situation like that comes around, fear creeps in and I want to run in the opposite direction.  Fear does that, you know.  Fear will cause us to miss a lot of great opportunities, a lot of great adventures, and the crazy part is that the thing we fear often doesn’t materialize or at least isn’t nearly as bad as we thought.  But such is the way of fear.

So, we went and guess what?  We didn’t lose it.  Though several folks ended up in the water, somehow, Judy and I didn’t.  It was probably my well experienced (not) and expert (not) command of the canoe.  Actually, it was no small measure of grace.  Oh, and by the way, while the current did make recovering some of the boats difficult, it wasn’t from the depth of the water.  In most places the water was only a couple of feet deep.  In other words, if we had dumped, I probably could have stepped right back in the boat.  Hmmm…how about that.

If you find yourself facing the unknown or maybe the possibility of reliving a part of your difficult past, don’t assume the same outcome.  And, better than that, remember that the thing we fear is usually not the monster we think it is.  And, better than that, there is a loving Father, who wants to walk with you no matter what.  I love the verse in the Bible that teaches me, that reminds me, that fear doesn’t come from God…it comes from the devil.  The enemy knows fear paralyzes…he knows it causes pain, and he knows he can control us through our fear. But regardless of all that, one thing I do know is that no matter what my fear, my God is bigger than my enemy and because of that I can rest assured that “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

Foot in Mouth Disease

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Friend Francis

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted in Family, fear, food, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, Scripture, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Off the Wagon…Again

But God proves His own love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8

I sat there in the dust looking as the wagon left me behind.  Ok.  The truth is I have fallen off several things in life.  I remember one time I was on a jet ski and fell off the back.  That was mostly ok with the exception that I couldn’t for the life of me get back on.  We had an above ground pool in Cobden and one day I was leaning over the edge trying to pick something up and well, before you could say, “shoot that thing” I was over the edge and gone.  It was so fast that my wife Judy and daughter Becca, who were watching, didn’t even see me go.  Don’t mention it to either of them…they are still laughing.

I’m going on a canoe trip with the youth of our church in a week or so and I fully expect to fall out of the canoe.  I have already enlisted several people to help me get back in when I fall out and my wife Judy is prepared to do CPR. You might wonder why I know I’m going to fall out.  Let’s call it destiny. Oh, and there was the time I was tubing behind a speed boat and lost my grip and my trunks.  They are still laughing about that too.

My latest experience about falling off has to do with the proverbial wagon.  Most of us who have ever started to exercise, or started a diet, or started back to church, or any one of a number of things, know about falling off the wagon.  For me it was the food thing…again.  I was so proud. Judy had found out that she was a diabetic and all of a sudden, I had some motivation to get back on the wagon…a little friendly competition. Well, I took the bull by the horns and before long, my sugar was normal, and I was twenty pounds lighter.  I had a blood test and everything was just “honky dorrie”.  But then it happened.

The wagon hit a big old bump and I went flying off and the next thing I knew all I could see was dust and Roy Rogers was singing, “Happy Trails to You.”  And here is what I discovered…once you are off, it is hard to get back on or in.  It is true with tubes, it is true with jet skis, it is true falling out of pools, it is true trying to start the church thing again, and it is true with healthy stuff. In fact, I just had to take a break and eat a couple of cookies to keep my strength up.

Well, I would ask for some advice about how to catch and climb back on the wagon but truthfully, I know what to do.  You know you stop this and start that and you might even pray about it.  The bottom line is I need a big old helping of want too, and I’m pretty sure it is right down the road somewhere.  The nice thing about that proverbial wagon is that it does circle around the block. I probably need to buy me one of those t-shirts that say, “Before you quit remember why you started.” It’s a little late for this time but not for the next.

So, how about you?  Any wagons left you in the dust recently? Anything you need to start again or stop again?  Well, here’s one good piece of advice.  Don’t quit trying.  They say you’ve never really failed until you stop trying and just in case you have stopped believing in you…the One who made you hasn’t.  His evaluation of you and your performance doesn’t depend on success or failure.  His evaluation is based solely on His love for you and boy, does He love you a lot.  The Bible tells us that He demonstrated or showed His love for all of us by sending and allowing His Son to die. Die.For.Us.  Now that is amazing.  It is just good to know that there is Someone who believes in us regardless and He will be first in line to give me and you a hand and pull us back on the wagon.  You can count on Him to be there for you with a great word of encouragement.  “Don’t worry,” He will say, “I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

Ignored

Get up,” Jesus told him, “pick up your mat and walk.” Instantly the man got well, picked up his mat, and started to walk. John 5:8-9

No matter how hard I tried…he ignored me.  So, I am a   walker…sometimes more consistent than others but generally I walk several days a week.  The habit person in me likes the consistency of taking the same route over and over.  The adventure person in me likes to vary the routes that I take.  The bottom line…it is a coin toss every time I walk.  Regardless of which route I take, I see him frequently.

Who is he?  He is one of the homeless guys here in our small town.  Actually, I am only assuming he is homeless.  Like I said, frequently and no matter how early, I see him riding his bike, pushing his bike, and sitting somewhere, anywhere holding onto his bike. When I stroll by, I try to be friendly.  I walk by and give him a wave and a smile with a “good morning,” attached. He doesn’t respond.  If you remember the story of Brier Rabbit and Tar Baby, you know when Tar Baby didn’t respond to Brier Rabbit—he got more than a little upset.  Well, I think Brier Rabbit and I might be distant cousins.  My thought was, “What’s up with this?  Why is he ignoring me?”

Well, there were many attempts after that attempt, and it wasn’t just with him.  I would try to wave, be friendly, and give a “Good morning” if we were in voice range.  Almost without exception…there was nothing just a blank stare.  Well, earlier this week it was the same song, same verse but this time something occurred to me…or more accurately maybe Someone spoke to me.  The thought, the inner voice was this, “Dewayne, he is ignoring you because that is all he knows.”  A bell went off in my head and in my heart.

I realized in that moment that to most people, these folks who live in the streets are ignored because they become invisible. Most people don’t even see them much less acknowledge them.  And, I think, that once you have been ignored for so long…when you are invisible to the world around you…you stop seeing and feeling too. It becomes easy to just look, to stare until the world around disappears.  And, you need to know, that it isn’t always homeless people…it can be just everyday walk-around people who have been bruised and hurt one too many times.  They go to work, they function, but in reality, they stare into nothingness just trying to get by.

What are we to do?  Well, first we don’t stop trying to reach out and touch those around us.  Jesus was so good at seeing the invisible and loving the unlovable and do you know what?  He never gave up.  A story is told about a lame man who laid by a pool forever…or, at least, it seemed forever…38 years to be exact.  The rumor was if you could be the first in the pool when the waters stirred, you would be healed.  It wasn’t true and it really didn’t matter because he could never be first.  And then…Jesus showed up.

Jesus saw him, spoke to him and asked this question, “Do you want to be well?”  The man gave him the story about him and the waters.  Jesus didn’t quit.  He just said, “Pick up your mat and walk.”  Well, the guy took the gamble, obeyed, and…he was healed…just like that.  Amazing.  Thirty-eight years of suffering came to an abrupt end. I guess we can’t offer the broken around us that kind of deal, but we can see, we can speak, and we can pray and when we do that…who knows what God will do?

Let me encourage you…and me for that matter…to start seeing again, to start loving again, to start making a difference, no matter how small, again.  If you see someone obviously broken and you are a Jesus follower, just remember how broken you were when you met the Healer and He whispered, “I love you…I forgive you.” And as you remember, take that moment to reach out and let that person know how much God loves them and longs to forgive them. Oh, and let them know also that, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, thankful

A Walk in the Park

Let heaven and earth praise Him, the seas and everything that moves in them.” Psalm 69:34

It was a walk in the park.  No, really. You have probably heard the cliche that says, “Oh, no deal…it was a walk in the park.”  The person saying that is indicating that whatever they had just done was…easy. No stress, no strain…like the old 70’s song says, “Easy like Sunday morning.”  However, every once in a while, it turns out to be exactly what the words say…a walk in the park.

It was a Monday morning in middle July, and I figured it was just about time for me to get back to walking. I put on my exercise clothes (it had been a while since I had used them, so they asked me for proof of ownership) and hopped in the car to drive to the park.  It was early…oh, I would guess about 5:50 in the morning.  As I began my walk around the lake, I quickly realized that this was a good idea. They say that exercise is just one of those things that is good…really good…for you.  It stretches things that have gotten a little stiff, clears your head and your heart, and opens your eyes.

As I walked, I had one of those ah-ha moments and realized that I was enjoying a genuinely cool morning in the middle of July.  That doesn’t happen often.  There was a light breeze which made the mid-sixties feel even better.  As I walked around the lake, I couldn’t help but notice the greenness all around me.  That was no accident.  God had decided to bless us with several days of showers and the grass, flowers, and trees were all grateful—and so was I.

A little further down the path I saw a little duck family.  A momma duck had hatched six eggs and her little ducklings were waddling along behind her.  They were cute and I couldn’t help but smile at their cuteness.  I knew it was a good day too because even the usually gruff and grouchy geese were in a good mood.  They still hissed at me a bit, but it somehow seemed…friendlier.  It was just about then that I started praying, well, actually talking with my Dearest Daddy.  It was one of those times it seemed as natural as breathing.  I talked, out loud, with Him thanking Him for all that my senses had absorbed. It was good.  And then, well, it got better.

I rounded the curve around the lake heading east and there was an orange glow peeking through the trees. At first, I thought it was one of the orange tinted street lights you see around town but then I really saw it. It was one of those incredible, Southern Illinois sunrises.  It was big and it was beautiful. As I walked, I was just overwhelmed with this masterpiece the Heavenly Rembrandt had given us to enjoy.  It was one of His larger than normal “love notes” that seemed to say, “I love you and you can face today knowing that I am with you…no matter what.”

As I looked at the sun that morning, over and again I might add, I thought about what the Psalmist wrote in the Bible.  He said “Let heaven and earth praise him, the seas and everything that moves in them.”  That morning, I couldn’t have agreed with Him more.  All of nature around me seemed to be declaring His glory.  From the greenness of the grass, to the sound of little ducklings waddling on their small webbed feet, to the gentle breeze. They all were singing His praises and I just had to join in.

I know life can’t always be a “walk in the park” but I do know that when He walks with me…life is better.  I also know that if we will just take the time to look around, we will see heavenly “sticky notes” from the One who loves us more than we can imagine.  And the best part?  He has a grand finale planned for us that goes on and on—and that is called heaven.  Until then we have the confident assurance that He is there and that no matter what, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, love, loving others, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Dance With the One Who Brought You

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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