Posted in Family, food, friends, gratitude, heaven, life, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, travel

Ham-less Sandwich

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

She thought it was funny.  This year God decided to take my sister Kathy home. One of my favorite memories and stories involves her and a ham sandwich—or the lack of one. Many years ago, my family and I were visiting her and her husband Stann.  They lived way down South in the land of grits and hospitality, and we lived just across the Ohio 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 welcome and when you leave, you know you will be missed.

Well, when it came time for us to leave, Miss Hospitality kindly made us 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 she was—to go through all that trouble and to save us a few dollars to boot.  So, we loaded up 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.

We decided to stop 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 trimmings.  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, my wife Judy and two precious, little hungry daughters.  I guess the winner of the day was McDonald’s who ended up with my $6.75 after all.  While I don’t remember laughing and 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 former and not the latter?  Too often we allow the fire of the moment to 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. The funny thing is about a month before she went to heaven, I was retelling this story and while she denied it—trust me—it is true.

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 sure the Father is smiling too.  And no matter what, as always, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Be You

God saw all that He had made, and it was very good indeed. Evening came and then morning: the sixth day.” Genesis 1:31

It was a profound statement.  It was 1967, and I was in junior high.  In Jacksonville that meant grades 7-9 and it meant a whole different world from elementary school.  For the first time we went to separate classes and got to choose some of our food for lunch in the cafeteria. I remember, for a dime, you could buy a bowl of French fries. While they weren’t anything like McDonald’s, I do believe they were potatoes, and they were long and skinny.

It may have been the sixties, but there were rules. For the girls skirts and dresses had to be of a certain length. For the guys your hair could only be so long and then there were the big three: shirt tucked in, wear a belt, and socks.  Break those and you and the principal had a date.  By the time I was in the ninth grade, things were relaxing a little and that included the big three.  On Fridays, boys were allowed to untuck their shirts, not wear a belt, and not wear socks. Holy moly, what was the world coming to?  Looking back, the cool thing was to take the socks that you weren’t wearing and put them hanging out of your rear pants pocket.  Every Friday, my shirt was out, my belt stayed home, and my socks were flapping in the breeze.  Do you know why?  It was cool…and I wanted to be cool. I wanted to be in. I wanted to be accepted.

As you know, over the years the trends have changed, styles have come and gone, and so have the labels.  In high school Gold Toe socks were coveted and so were Gant shirts. We couldn’t afford it either but when I joined the Air Force and could shop at the Base Exchange, they carried both and both became part of my world.  I was cool. I was in. I was accepted. Some things never change, and this is one of those.  There was always something that someone was wearing that if you had it, you just knew you would feel cool…accepted…part of the “in” crowd.  When I came to my current church, it was shirts with ponies and shoes named “Crocs.” Whatever the newest label, and there was always one, peer pressure and the desire to be cool, accepted, and in, pushed and pulled.  It seemed I always wanted to be what someone else was.

Thankfully, some of that has changed.  Ponies and crocs aren’t really that cool anymore, and I’m starting to realize that a label doesn’t define who I am.  I.Am.Me. In fact, my four favorite shirts are from Walmart and cost a grand total of $9.88 each. There’s nothing on the pocket—they are just plain shirts which is cool, because I define them…they don’t define me.

I read something one morning that was just profound.  Here it is. Are you ready?  “Each person was born an original; no one should die a copy.” Wow.  It goes like this.  Somewhere in heaven, God came up with a design plan for me.  He wrote the design and then declared it an original, and just right. In fact, in Genesis 1:31, the Bible says, “God saw all that He had made, and it was very good indeed.” And do you know what?  That includes me and that includes you. There is not another me or you, anywhere, and that was intentional. I don’t need to be you, and you don’t need to be me. We just need to be who God made us. Sure, fashion labels are fine, and I’m even sure there is a perfect weight and height, but those don’t dictate who we are…God does.

In the years that God gives me, I hope I will remember this.  When the clock stops ticking, the heart stops beating, and you are having a chicken dinner somewhere in my honor, I hope someone will be able to say, “That Dewayne, he was an original. God broke the mold when He made him.”  I don’t want to die a copy…I want to die an original.

Given my bent to be a people pleaser and desire to be cool, accepted and in, I’m sure that will be a challenge. Gratefully, my Dearest Daddy will be with me along the way to remind me that I am a custom-made job, and you are too.  And, if I am wise enough to ask and listen, He will help me be me.  Oh, and if I struggle, and I will, and you will too, just listen as He reassures us that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, school days, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, travel

Daily Reminders

“For this is how God loved the world: He gave His one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16

It was a great adventure.  I don’t know what your experiences with going to grandmother’s house were like…but mine, well, it really was a great adventure.  Granddaddy and Grandmother lived in Gainesville, Florida and we lived on the west side of Jacksonville.  And, more than occasionally, we would load up in our car and drive down to Grandmother’s house.  It’s funny…it was never Granddaddy’s house…it always seemed to belong to her.

When we got there, we have our time of greeting and then, usually, there would be work to be done…at least for Daddy and me and our domain was the yard.  Grandmother had some beautiful flowers and my Daddy loved flowers too. We would walk around the yard admiring the handiwork of our Creator and planning what needed to be done.  And, before long, we would get to work.  There was weeding, mowing, picking up debris left over from the last Florida “frog strangler rain” and a host of other chores.  Fortunately, it wasn’t an all-day deal because there were adventures waiting.

Grandmother’s house was located on a main street but in a quiet neighborhood.  From the large front porch, with large white rockers, you could sit and watch the traffic go by.  If you went out the back door, there was the quiet world of the garden.  Beside the house was one of those narrow side streets that you only travelled on if you knew it was there.  We went down that road and the blocks behind the house to collect coke bottles for the two-cent deposit.  Two cents meant two pieces of penny candy…what a bargain. Besides the bottles, there was another treasure trove that we visited every time we visited Grandmother.

I remember we would go into the backyard and there was a trail of sorts going through some woods.  At the other end of the trail, on the next block, sat a small warehouse.  Today I suppose you would call it a large storage shed.  To my sisters and me it was heaven.  A man had a Jewel Tea franchise and that was where he stored his merchandise.  And right next to the building was a pile…a glorious pile of…stuff.  It was like having our own treasure chest except there wasn’t a chest.  It was all there, free, for the taking.

What was there?  Well, there were all kinds of items…things for the house or for personal care.  Honestly, you never knew what you were going to find…it was the great adventure.  It was not uncommon for there to be candy and snacks.  Now keep in mind this was in the sixties and everything was still wrapped up tight.  We would have a ball pilfering through the pile.  Sometimes of course there wouldn’t be anything but the anticipation of going to the Jewel Tea warehouse was so exciting.  The only thing better than finding bottles and collecting our two cents each, was finding the mother lode at the warehouse.

Perhaps you can’t imagine rummaging through a pile of boxes left outside.  Perhaps you can’t imagine opening some candy someone had discarded but somehow, someway, it just seemed ok and normal back then.  It really was a great adventure. We didn’t have a lot and because of that we didn’t get a lot so when you could find bottles and get two cents or when you could get something for free…well, it was pretty good day.

Somehow, I missed those days…days of simplicity…days of being satisfied with little and needing less.  These days we are surrounded by so much and yet today, enough never seems to be quite enough.  What used to fill our cups seems now to be but a drop in the bucket.  I think we have lost our way…detoured down a road of discontentment where sunrises are ignored, and a beautiful flower missed as we rush by.  Love notes from our Dearest Daddy, strategically placed along our paths, go unread.  We need to slow down, we need to smell the roses, we need to read the notes.

Today, this day, why don’t we make a conscious decision to find something simple and marvel in it again and why don’t we start with a simple fact.  And what fact is that?  It is that God so loved this broken, crazy world we call home, so much that He allowed, He sent, His Son into it and made a promise. The promise is anyone who believes in Him can have eternal life.  Think about that.  Loved by God with heaven thrown in…now that’s a good day.  And if you need a booster shot of “feel good,” just remember this.  No matter what comes your way today…well, He’s got it.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, Integrity, life, loving others, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Going Out with Your Boots On

“For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” Philippians 1:21

Thank you, Ruby and Laura.  I was preparing for a message that I was going to share at the church I used to pastor.  I am always amazed how God brings to my mind different angles and ideas and illustrations to help make a truth stick.  I learned a long time ago if we can’t remember what we heard, well, it can’t help us a lot.  Stories help things to stick.  They are like “duct tape” and I’ve learned that sermons need a lot of duct tape.

The message was about being ready…ready for whatever God has next in our lives.  And for the record that can be just about anything.  My Judy and I have had several God “whatevers” through the years. Some we saw coming and some we didn’t, but it was always exciting to know that God was and is on the move.  Well, when I thought about being ready, I remembered part of a message that pastor John Piper taught.  He was speaking in the year 2000 to a huge group of young people and he was making the point that they should make their lives matter.  Well, let’s just say he did a good job.

As part of his message that day, he told the story of two women, Ruby and Laura.  Ruby was a nurse who had committed her entire life to caring for the poor and broken of the world.  She chose to remain single so she could devote everything…everything…to her mission. She was all in…one hundred percent.  Laura was a medical doctor who took “early retirement” so she could do the same thing.  She wanted to make a bigger difference, so she closed shop and joined Ruby doing mission work.

So, they were loving God and loving people in Cameroon, East Africa.  They both were now, well, older.  Ruby was into her eighties and Laura was chasing her…she was in her very late seventies.  As John Piper tells the story, these two incredible ladies were driving their jeep in the mountains when, without warning, their brakes went out and they sailed over a cliff and literally into eternity.  Both ladies died in the crash and both ladies went out “with their boots on.”  At a time when most would be at home rocking grand babies, they were still making a difference.

I know, some would say what a tragedy it was that these two ladies died that day.  Some would wonder why they just didn’t play it safe.  I have a feeling that Ruby and Laura would tell us that they were playing it safe—because their lives were not held by circumstance or chance but rather by God.  They would tell us they danced into eternity with the One they loved…Jesus and they would, of course, be right.

I find myself desiring to finish well.  I know, I will not be a Ruby or a Laura, but I do want to go out “dancing” with the One who loves me most and best.  I want to go out with my boots on.  Sometimes we see our later years as years to relax but I wonder if we aren’t missing something. Maybe our later years are our best years to serve Him and them.  Maybe our later years are intended to be the finest chapters of our lives.

When we determine to follow, God gives us opportunities. One of our trips, Judy and I were preparing to get on a plane to fly to Europe to minister to a group of folks from Somalia, East Africa. They were in a poverty-stricken area and few, if any, know Jesus.  It was challenging but it also was a great adventure. I wasn’t driving a jeep on dangerous mountain roads, so I didn’t have to worry about my brakes going out. Smile.  But I do know that no matter what, or where, our lives are in the hands of our Dearest Daddy and that is never a bad thing.  In fact, there is nothing better.

Paul, the guy who wrote a chunk of the New Testament, knew about dangerous mountain roads and losing your brakes.  He was an “all in” sort of guy and ultimately was martyred for his faith.  Anyway, he wrote, “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” In other words, if God chose to keep him here on earth…that was good.  If God chose to call him heaven…that was good too.  All that mattered was living “all in” and going out “with his boots on.”

So, no matter what, if you are a Jesus person let me encourage you to go “all in” and leave the details to the One who loves you most.  If you haven’t discovered Jesus yet, let me encourage you to make that your journey starting now.  It is a journey you won’t regret.  Living “all in” and being willing to go out “with your boots on” can sound daunting. Truth is, it just doesn’t sound daunting…it is.  The good news is the One who loves you most will always be right by your side, whispering softly, “Go ahead, don’t worry, I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials

The Boarding Line

Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for You are close beside me.” Psalms 23:4a NLT


We all have spent time in line. I am not a fan of lines. Whether it is at a restaurant, an airport, or a port I don’t like lines. I have learned though that part of leaving is boarding and part of boarding is standing in line and part of standing is line is patience and I find that I sometimes battle with patience. I wonder if I will learn one day to appreciate lines? I don’t know about that.


My sister was standing in a boarding line as I wrote this. She was about to take the trip of a life time. About five months ago she learned, we learned, that she had a form of cancer that not only has no cure but is also aggressive and mean and takes no prisoners. In the last couple of days, it reared its ugly head in a way that told her, and us, that her time here was very limited. She found herself in line for the journey of all journeys—her journey to meet Jesus.


This is hard and yet because of her faith in Him it is a journey not to death but through death…to eternal life. She is sure of this…we are sure of this and somehow, that helps all of this make sense. That doesn’t make it easy but it does make it easier. As she slowly made her way to the boarding gate, while her time here grew short, she was leaving to a place where time is no longer even relevant. She was stepping not only into eternity but eternity in heaven. And for that she, and all of us who love her, can find gratitude for a God who promises to take care of her.
Sometimes it is difficult be grateful but if we wait and take a careful look, we will discover dozens, perhaps hundreds of dozens of ways to be grateful. Someone wrote, “The grateful heart is like a magnet sweeping over the day, collecting reasons for gratitude. A zillion diamonds sparkle against the velvet of your sky every night. Thank you, God. A miracle of muscles enables your eyes to read these words and your brain to process them. Thank you, God. Your lungs inhale and exhale eleven thousand liters of air every day. Your heart will beat about three billion times in your lifetime. Your brain is a veritable electric generator of power. Thank you, God.”

You see, we are surrounded by opportunities to be grateful…including those difficult and challenging times that involve separation and farewells. Before this could be published, on June 2, a bright Sunday morning, she took hold of the hand of Jesus and stepped through the gate. As Paul, the guy in the Bible wrote, she was absent from the body and instantly present with the Lord. You see, when someone we love, steps through the boarding gate of eternity, if they, and if you, know the Keeper of the gate, then it can be a time of gratitude…not for the leaving but for the promise that it is not a goodbye but a good-night.

So be encouraged that even in the most difficult of times, our faith in God can and will carry us through. He is faithful…He cannot and will not fail. No matter what you are facing, whether someone you love is in the boarding line or perhaps you are…rest in this…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, Military memories, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials

Daddy’s Heart Attack

“We know that all things work together for the good of
those who love God, who are called according to His
purpose.” Romans 8:28

Thanks, Dad…for the heart attack. It was back in 1976, June 26th to be specific, that I married Judy Allen.  She was a Georgia peach that was quite the catch.  I met her when I walked into a strange, new church on a Wednesday night. I entered the side door and boom—there she was.  Standing in a circle of ordinary young ladies, this young lady was anything but.  Then, there was a phone call, a date and well, here we are forty-six years…she is still quite the catch, we are still in love, and we are still grateful for a God who has a plan.

I was talking with Judy the other day and said, “What if we had never met?” I honestly cannot fathom my life without her…but what if?  It was really a strange set of circumstances that got us together.  I was in the Air Force and my Daddy had a pretty major heart attack while I was home on leave.  It sure changed our Christmas plans, but it also changed my life.  My Momma, and don’t ask me how since this was way before the internet and smartphones, found out through the Red Cross that the Air Force would sometimes grant a “humanitarian reassignment” to airmen to the base nearest their home.  The conditions were strict, and the odds were long, but we (Momma and I) decided we should give it a shot.

It required all kinds of statements from the doctors and a bunch of other stuff that I don’t even remember.  At the time I was stationed at Minot AFB in North Dakota and trust me that is a long way from home.  Anyway, we applied and then one day I received a call from Base Personnel letting me know that my request had been approved and I was being reassigned to Moody AFB in Valdosta, Georgia. Soon, it was so long Minot and hello Moody.  I arrived at my new base in April of 1973.  I would drive home every weekend (about two hours) to see family and friends and come back Sunday evening.

Gratefully, God allowed my Daddy to live till midsummer of the next year when He decided heaven was better than here.  Of course, his leaving changed everything. I think my Momma went to stay with one of my brothers or sisters for a while and suddenly there wasn’t as much reason to go home.  I was a regular church goer, but it really wasn’t my desire to go to church that Wednesday night as much as it was…boredom.  Valdosta wasn’t a big town and Moody wasn’t a big airbase, so I just needed something to do.  And, as they say, the rest is history.

Which leads to my opening line…Daddy’s heart attack.  If it hadn’t been for that and my Momma’s persistence, well, I would have stayed in Minot and probably froze to death. Smile. I would have never met Judy, there would not have been our three precious daughters and hence no eight grandchildren.  And, honestly, I probably wouldn’t be pastoring and wouldn’t be writing this today.  But God is a God of infinite details and design.  He tells us in the Bible that every day of our lives is planned before a single one of them is lived.  I like that…a lot.

He also teaches us that for those who love Him and are called by Him, He can take anything and everything and bring good out of it.  No, not everything is good…not even close and that isn’t what He said.  He said He can bring good and in the case of my Daddy’s heart attack, my life path is part of that good.  Have you ever thought of life that way?  Can you think of a situation where God did that for you?  I bet you can. You see, God is good, God is faithful, and God can be trusted.

One day I will see my Daddy again…in heaven.  I’ll probably chat with him and ask if he ever thought about the good that God brought about because of his heart attack.  And then, well, I’ll tell him all about Judy (if she isn’t there yet) and his great grandkids.  It’s gonna be a great reunion.  Till then, I hope I remember to trust my heavenly Dearest Daddy each day, and know that no matter what, no matter how big…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, heaven, Holidays, Integrity, life, loving others, Memorial Day, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials, USA

Heroes

Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.”        John 15:13

There are some Grits’ stories that I just can’t let go of.  Today is Memorial Day…the day we honor all those who gave their lives for our freedom.  This special day is so close to my heart and so is this story.  I hope you will enjoy now and probably each Memorial Day in the years to come.  God bless you and God bless America.

Years later, it still tugs at my heart. I’m not sure how I found my way there, but I was grateful.  During my assignment with the Air Force in Sembach, Germany we had the opportunity to see so much.  From Hitler’s hideaway called “The Eagle’s Nest” in Berchtesgaden to the windmills of Holland to the Alps of Switzerland we were constantly amazed at what was all around us.  But nothing prepared me for Luxembourg.

We had some friends that we had known in our days at Moody Air Force Base in South Georgia.  They received orders to Germany several months before we did.  They were only a couple of hours from us, so we saw each other often.  It must have been during one of our forays that we came to it—Luxembourg American Cemetery.  It was one of the most hallowed sights I have ever seen.

There, in the cemetery, are 5,075 white Lasa marble crosses and stars of David.  Row after row of headstones that mark the final resting place of American heroes.  Each one made the ultimate sacrifice for us, for you and me, so that we can live in freedom.  General George Patton is buried there. Two Medal of Honor recipients are also buried there: David G. Turner and William D. McGee. Twenty-two sets of brothers lay buried side by side throughout the cemetery. Some, 371 in fact, were never found.  They are simply listed as missing in action.  102 are just unknown.

This place of honor was established on December 29, 1944.  Many of the soldiers died during the Battle of the Bulge…Hitler’s last push to turn the tide of the war in Germany’s favor.  It failed but it came at great cost to the Allied forces. It was a harsh winter and because of the urgency of the times many were sent to fight with little or no winter gear. The desperate Germans showed little mercy to those taken prisoner.  And all this occurred just nine months, nine months, before the war ended.  So many had survived D-Day and countless days of combat only to make the ultimate sacrifice months before the grand reunion with family.

Heroes.  It is a word we throw around lightly these days.  In a world where everyone gets a trophy, we are in danger of losing the value of this incredible word.  Hero. Dictionary.com defines it as “a person noted for courageous acts.” Oxford says it is a person who is admired or idealized for courage. Webster defines it as an illustrious warrior or one who shows great courage.  Another place said it is a person who at great danger to themselves puts others first.

I went to Toys-R-Us one time and there they had several aisles of superhero stuff.  As I turned the corner a sign caught my eye.  It simply said, “Real Heroes.”  Along that aisle were the soldiers and sailor figures as well as police, firemen, and other emergency responders.  If I went to that aisle today it would have to include doctors, nurses, and other medical professionals.  Real heroes…real people putting others first at peril to themselves.

But there would be one missing.  Jesus Christ, the Hero of Heaven, who willingly, who bravely, gave Himself to a Roman cross that men, women, and children could be free. The cross was so horrible it was called the death of deaths.  It was so horrible it was illegal to crucify a Roman citizen.  And yet…He went.  Why?  He loved me. He loved you.

Amazingly it was not for some of us, but all of us. Skin color, economic station, language, nationality, capacity to be bad or good doesn’t matter.  The Bible simply says, “He came to seek and save that which was lost.”  It simply says, “Whoever calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”  It simply says He is not willing for any to perish but all to come home. Anyone—I like anyone. Anyone who acknowledges their need for a rescue will find one in Jesus. And this Hero not only does meet and greet, but He also invites you to join His family and He walks with you throughout life.  How about that!

So, when you hear the national anthem, place your hand over your heart as a salute to those who paid the price for our freedom.  When you see a veteran, thank them for his or her service and sacrifice.  When you walk through a cemetery with your kids, point out the graves of the men and women who served and tell them why they are so special.  And when you talk to the Hero of Heaven next time, thank Him for forgiving your sin.  Thank Him for always being there.  Thank Him for giving you a place to rest.  And, thank Him for having this….because He does.  Bro. Dewayne

Learn more about Luxembourg here: Luxembourg American Cemetery | American Battle Monuments Commission (abmc.gov)

Posted in Easter, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, heaven, Holidays, life, love, loving others, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

What Do You Hear?

Good Friday.  What an unusual name for such hard, hard day.  Imagine with me as slowly the light increased over Jerusalem.  It was another early morning in spring and men were going to die.  The Romans regularly crucified criminals–it was business as usual for them.  But this day, well this day, would be different.  Three men would die on crosses–two criminals and one perfect human being.  His name was Jesus.

As the light increased so did the sounds.  If you had been there, you would have heard the sounds of crowd–a mob really.  Some were crying, some shouting, some angry, some broken.  You would have heard the sounds of struggle–anguish as a man carried a cross too big for even the healthiest of men.  At the top of a stark hill the sounds intensified.

You could hear without trying the sound of metal on metal as hammer meets nail.  Cries of humanity suffering as three crosses are lifted skyward.  The message was clear.  You don’t mess with Rome.  Scattered around are the sounds of women crying and men in anguish.  Stares of disbelief filled the eyes of many.  Listen now–there are words.

The Man in the middle–the perfect one–is speaking and what He says is almost beyond belief. “Father, forgive them.  They don’t know what they are doing.”  Forgive them–the very ones who passed the judgement–who drove the nails–who lifted the cross. Wait, for there is more.  One of the criminals is mocking him but the other is begging him.  “Remember me,” he says.  And Jesus responds “Today, you will be with Me in paradise.”

There are more words.  Lean in-strain to hear. The Man in the middle–the perfect One–is asking His friend John to take care of His mother.  And then there is the cry of brokenness as He cries, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?”  He knows why.  The Man in the middle–the perfect One–has become sin and His Father can’t look on sin.  There’s a price being paid, and it involves wrath and death.  And He is willingly paying it.

As His end draws near a silence begins to fall over the hill.  The women are cried out, the soldiers are bored, and the crowd confused.  And then they all hear it.  “Tetelestai.” It’s a common word really.  It means finished.  An artist would say it when the last stroke is applied to a masterpiece.  A carpenter would say it when the last peg is driven in a newly built table. A farmer would say it when the last sheave of wheat is harvested.  But when the Man in the middle–the perfect One–says those words, everything changes.

“It is finished.”  The mission is accomplished. The price for sin has been paid and atoned for.  The wrath of God for sin is satisfied.  What justice demanded He has paid. And what He promised the criminal becomes a reality for any person. My sins, your sins, our sins, can be forgiven and you can be with Me in heaven.

So, then He dies.  Actually, He wills himself to die for no one could take the life of the Man in the middle–the perfect One.  He could give it, but they could not take it.  Rocks crack, thunder rolls and then in the distance a tearing, ripping sound is heard as the massive curtain separating man from Holy God is torn from top to bottom and God–God hangs out the welcome sign for the first time ever.  And it’s all because of the Man in the middle–the perfect One.

In any other story that would be the end, but you see it’s only Friday.  The final act is coming on Sunday. Friday ended with His followers discouraged, defeated and afraid. Maybe like some of us. But if you lean in again…if you listen closely…you can hear the Father saying, “Rest in Me. Wait till Sunday.  I’ve got this.”  And…He does.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Crosses

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

Crosses. It seems everywhere you look you can see one. As my wife Judy and I were driving back from the Holy Land (aka the south), part out of boredom and part out of curiosity, I would slowly scan the landscape to see what I could see.  It was then that I saw them.  Poked in the ground were three wooden crosses.  They were weather faded and had shifted in the dirt…lazily leaning to one side and then the other.  When I saw them, I sighed, heavily because of what they meant.  At that spot, sometime in the not-too-distant past…three people had lost their lives.

I didn’t know if they were young or old, black, or white, rich or poor.  I didn’t need to know that because all that mattered was three people in a flash of a moment slipped into eternity, most likely with little or no warning. Those crosses and so many others I saw that day and other days always meant one thing—someone had died. Suddenly they were ushered into an eternity with or without God and that with or without was and is such a heavy thought. Eternity with God would mean eternal life and eternity without Him could only mean a forever separation in a place not made for man but for his enemy—Satan.

These words, these thoughts should weigh heavily on us for eternity without God is a grievous thing—a heart breaking thing. One thing is certain—it weighs heavy on the heart of God. I know this because of what happened a couple of thousand years ago on a rugged outcrop outside of Jerusalem.  There a man, a perfect man, the God man died so that no one had to be separated from God ever again.  His death made it possible for anyone and everyone to receive the gift of eternal life and forgiveness. Think about that whenever you see a cross…for it means Someone died and that Someone was Jesus.

So, if you wear a gold cross or one decorated with jewels or if you have one hung somewhere in your home never, never forget what it means…Someone died. Can I encourage you to go one step further—even if you don’t know God or believe in Him?  Can I encourage you to remember why people, lots of people wear a cross, or hang a cross? Well, whether they acknowledge it or not—they are making a statement about a God who loved the world so much that He sent His Son to this earth for one purpose—to die on a Roman cross. Not murdered, not martyred, He went there and died there because He loved you and me. That is simply amazing. And trust me…a God like that can handle anything including your toughest questions.  He’s got that.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

Baits, Hooks, and Bill

A friend is always loyal, and a brother is born to help in time of need.” Proverbs 17:17

His name was Bill, and he was an investor—in people.  When Judy and I landed in Warrensburg, Missouri via God, and the Air Force we began attending First Baptist Church.  For us, God and the church thing was an all-in deal so soon we were singing in the choir, attending church, and going to Sunday School. Our Bible Study teachers were Bill and Edith Hensley, and they were a class act.  The time we spend in their class was rich in every way imaginable.  We build friendships and did life together.  It seemed that whether you were in the Air Force like I was or a professor at the local university or a lawyer, it just didn’t matter.  We were pilgrims journeying with each other and with Jesus and it was good.

Bill was a lawyer by trade and a disciple-maker by faith.  He believed in Jesus, believed the Bible, and believed in people—including me.  I’m not sure how it happened but he kinda adopted me and began investing in me by teaching me about fishing, hunting, and growing in my faith.  He loved to fish.  He would often call the house and say, “What time is it?”  Now it might be time to wash the car or time to mow the grass, but I knew what the answer was.  “It’s time to go fishing” I would reply and in about 30 minutes I would be in his pickup truck heading to some pond to see if we could catch a bass or two.

That was the case one late summer evening.  We had the boat out in a small pond.  Things had been slow, and the sun was just about to call it a day.  Bill suggested that I make a cast or two more toward the shore.  He pointed out a log that just broke the surface about three feet from land.  I gave the rod a swing and amazingly that ole hula-popper landed right up next to that log.  A hula-popper is a soft lure that sounds just like a wounded frog when you pull up on the rod.  I pulled up on the rod and heard the familiar gurgling sound.  Nothing happened.

I gave it another tug and two things happened.  First there was a small splashing sound and second the lure stopped dead in the water.  At first, I thought I had snagged the log but I soon realized I had hooked a pretty good size bass.  Now since it was late summer the water was a bit cool so there wasn’t this epic battle—you know, man against whale.  Instead, it was like reeling in a big piece of wood.  Of course, there was a tug here or there but whatever was on the other end of the rod wasn’t up for much of a fight.

Before long the fish was beside the boat and Bill got the net and bought him on board.  It turned out to be a good-sized fish.  It was a 6.5-pound largemouth bass.  I couldn’t believe it,  Bill couldn’t believe it and I am pretty sure the bass couldn’t believe it either.  Well, we snapped a couple of pictures and headed for shore with the bass safely in the fish well.  I asked Bill if I should have him mounted but he said no because I was sure to catch a bigger one someday in the future.  Well, I haven’t and honestly, I believe he knew (because I didn’t know) my Air Force salary couldn’t handle the cost.

Bill and I enjoyed many more fishing trips before I finally moved out of the area and over into Southern Illinois.  I slowly lost touch with Bill and Edith and now they are both in heaven.  I am sure they heard, “well done.”  I can only imagine how many lives they touched.  I do know that night I learned a couple of good lessons.

The first lesson came thanks to that old bass.  I wonder how many “almost” nights he had laid up by that log.  You don’t get to be 6.5 pounds in a few nights or by making bad decisions.  So many a night there he lay and each of those nights he was wise enough to say no when a fisherman came by with a tempting bait.  For some reason that night was different.  It wasn’t that I was an expert, and it wasn’t that the bait seemed that real.  More than likely he just let his guard down and bit the bait.  That night at the cost of his life he learned a valuable lesson.  As Bob Goff puts it, “It is always better to resist the bait than struggle on the hook.”  Now that is good advice. So, in these days that take way too much energy just to do life, don’t get too lax and make a really bad decision.  Resist the bait.

The other lesson was from Bill…the man who invested his time, his wisdom and even some of his resources in a young Air Force sergeant. Bill was simply a good man who loved Jesus.  He was busy but he wasn’t too busy to pour his life into mine.  The Bible says, “A friend is always loyal, and a brother is born to help in time of need.” Bill was that to me and I know that I am a better person for knowing him.

In days like these when it seems the chief topic is survival don’t get so self-absorbed that you can’t invest in the folks in your world.  There are plenty of people like me who need someone a little wiser to speak into their lives.  Why not be that voice?  That voice may be whispering, “Don’t take the bait” or it might be encouraging someone to trust in the One who is worthy…to trust and rest in the God who made it all.  I think Bill was one of the ones who spoke into my life and helped me believe that I could trust God because, “He’s got this.”  Thanks, Bill. 

Bro. Dewayne