Posted in Family, Father's Day, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, Integrity, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Daddy

Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.” Exodus 20:12

He didn’t wear a cape or an iron suit, but he was a hero to me.  A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away I was born.  It all happened on January 6, 1954, in Orange Park, Florida.  I was number eight in a family of eight. This can’t be confirmed but I think it went something like this.  My Daddy was somewhat of a perfectionist and he and my Momma had tried seven times to have the perfect child.  He went to her and said, “Well, honey, I know we have tried seven times to pull off this perfect child thing and I say we give it one more shot.  I really think eight is going to be our lucky number.”  So, ta-da here I am…living proof that persistence pays off.

My Daddy was 42 years old when I was born.  He had plenty of experience at the father thing and you know, I think he did a great job.  I don’t recall a lot of special events in my early and later childhood but that isn’t because they didn’t happen.  I can remember family camping trips to the beach as well as all night fishing trips to the same.  I can remember family vacations to see relatives in all the hot vacation spots like New Jersey and Texas.  I can remember trips to Silver Springs, Six Gun Territory and Doctor’s Inlet which was a great place to go for a lake swim.  But there are also several memories with just dad and me.

When I was about six, Daddy took me fishing on Cedar Creek.  It was just me and him.  At this age, I wasn’t very good at fishing or paying attention.  Truth be known I had a hard time staying focused on anything for very long.  Anyway, the fish were biting that day, but I had a hard time watching the bobber.  Over and again, Daddy would ask, “Dewayne, where’s your bobber?”  I would look and it was gone.  We lost a lot of good worms that day.

Later, when I was about ten, Daddy took me hunting.  The big deal was that he allowed me to take my BB gun.  I wasn’t allowed to carry a real gun; you will see why in a moment.  So, we were walking through the woods, and I was about four feet behind dad.  Silent as an F5 tornado, I crept through the woods.  I was too noisy, but dad was way patient.   And then, well, I shot him in the back.  Now wait, don’t panic.  It was only a BB gun, and he did have his heavy hunting jacket on.  I had my finger on the trigger (oops) and every so slowly and without even realizing it, increased the pressure.  Just like that it went off and got dad square in the back. Bummer.

Do you know what?  He didn’t holler and in fact he didn’t say a single word.  He just looked over his shoulder and gave me that “I’m glad that wasn’t a 12 gauge” look.  I appreciated that and have never forgotten the fact that he could have made me feel “less than” but didn’t.  I’m sure we had a talk about gun safety, and it must have worked out because I never shot him again.

My two favorite memories of him don’t involve a fishing pole or a gun.  They involve God.  Honestly, Daddy didn’t go to church a bunch, but I know he was a Christian because of the way he lived. Two events, two memories are burned into my mind and heart.  The first is a time when we were having prayer time together as a family.  Some people call it family altar…at the time I probably called it too long.  I remember it was time to pray so we all got down on our knees around the room.  I got a little bored, so I peeked and there across the room was my Daddy, on his knees, talking to God.  It made a big impression on my young heart.

Later, when I was about 17, I caught Daddy praying again.  I came home from a date late one night and there sitting at the kitchen table was my Daddy—praying.  With his hands clasped together he was talking to God.  I don’t know what prompted the late-night prayer meeting, but I know it again made a big impression on me as a young man. And that is the point.  My Daddy made an impression on me that impacted so many areas of my life.  Integrity, work ethic, caring and providing for your family and being a man were all part of the core curriculum.

I didn’t get to keep my Daddy too much longer.  When I was in high school, he had a massive heart attack.  He lived a couple of more years but when he was just 62 and I was 20, God decided to take him home.  Suddenly, on a Sunday morning he went to heaven.  It was hard and is hard to this day.  He never got to meet my wife, children, or any of his eight great grandchildren. He never got to see much of my career in the Air Force or hear me preach a sermon.  I hope in heaven they keep tabs on us down here and I hope I’ve made my hero proud.

Well, now that we are all sad and weepy let me throw this in.  Whether you are young or older, take the time this Father’s Day, and every day, to tell your dad (and mom) how much you appreciate them.  One of God’s big commands is that we honor our parents and when we do—we honor Him.  There’s no better way to do that than to tell them and show them that you love them.

I know things don’t always work out with dads and if that is the case with you, I am so sorry.  My Daddy wasn’t perfect…none are but his love outweighed his warts. If you are a Jesus follower, I hope you can extend some grace…just like God did to you.  And always remember, you have a Heavenly Father who is perfect, who always gets it right. He’s always waiting for you to crawl up in His lap and take a rest.  And the icing on the cake is He is stronger than a superhero…and because of that, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Downhill/Uphill

If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” 1 John 1:9

In one way it was so easy…the other…so hard.  Recently, I started riding my bike again.  I’ve been walking for quite a while…actually since I was about two. Just kidding…not that kind of walking…the exercise kind.  Ever since I fell way out of love with any sort of running, walking has been my go-to exercise.  I’m pretty good at it too.  I can still “pick ‘em up and put ‘em down.”  I usually walk a mile in about fourteen and a half minutes…which isn’t half bad.

They say it is good to change up your exercise routine, so I pulled out my trusty, older Diamondback bike, aired up the tires and started riding again.  My bike may be a couple of decades old, but she is still a good riding machine.  I knew, in spite of my regular walking, that biking was going to be a little challenging.  The reason?  Different muscles. The muscles you use to walk and the ones you use to pedal are totally different. So, I could definitely feel the pain…especially going uphill.

While Harrisburg doesn’t have any real hills, we definitely have some uphill grades and my legs let me know right away when I was there.  I usually do an out and back which means going out I can coast down the hill but coming back seven miles later it is ouch city. By the time I reach the top of “the hill” my heart rate has jumped, and my legs are feeling the burn.  Isn’t that funny…same road but different direction with dramatically different results. Remember, it is always easier to go downhill than up. Always.

The other day I was thinking about that principle when it occurred to me how true it is when it comes to sin and repentance.  The road to sin (you know the stuff that God says not to do) is always downhill.  It is way too easy to coast right into a mess and the longer you ride…the bigger the mess.  So, let’s say you decide enough is enough and you decide to turn around.  Yup, the uphill ride to repentance is never as easy as the ride out was.  Gratefully, God is always there to help you home, but it still takes His power and our will power to stay on course.

Someone said that no matter how far we walk away from God, the road home is just one step…the first one.  That is so true, but we still must feed the determination to stay the course because that downhill slope is oh so enticing. But He is there if we are willing to ask.  Me and a bunch of other imperfect people are oh so grateful for 1 John 1:9 which says, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” That is such good news.  It’s great to know that His grace will be waiting on us to carry us home.  Always, and I do mean always, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, travel

The End Isn’t the End

The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display his craftsmanship.” Psalm 19:1

It seemed like the end of the road…but it wasn’t.  My wife Judy and I live in Southern Illinois.  I know, when you think of Illinois you think about Abraham Lincoln and Chicago but believe me there is a whole lot more to Illinois than that.  The part of Illinois that we call home is south, way south.  Our nook and cranny of Illinois, which is right at the Shawnee National Forest, is crammed full of natural beauty.  Lush forests, rock bluffs, waterfalls, and hiking trails galore are but a few of our treasures.

Often Judy and I will get in our car and just drive. One of our favorite drives takes us up to U.S. Highway 1 heading east.  The area is pure country with plenty of green scenery and rolling hills.  The road ends in a small town called Cave-In-Rock.  There are a few stores, a couple of restaurants and, you guessed it, a large cave in a rock.  The story goes that the cave was used by river pirates.  Fess Parker’s movie, “The River Pirates” was filmed there.  It is worth seeing.  But there is one more thing that grabs my attention.

You see, U.S. Highway 1 ends at Cave-In-Rock and it ends by running right into the Ohio River.  You are traveling down on this really, nice road and all of a sudden…boom…you’re done…no more road.  The end.  But guess what?  It’s not really the end because right there in town where the road ends, is an old-fashioned, but fully functioning, ferry.  It is provided free of charge for those who need to keep going to the other side…to Kentucky. It turns out, about every 15 or 20 minutes the ferry makes a run carrying people to the other side.  So, what you thought was the end…wasn’t.

A while back I did a funeral for a real nice lady and told the crowd gathered there that it seems when we go to cemeteries that all the headstones seem to say, “The end” but I told them that isn’t necessarily so.  I told them that the end didn’t have to be the end, but rather a new beginning. I also told them about how a man, a man we shouldn’t know anything about, changed everything by dying and then coming back to life.  I told them that He promised that if we would believe in Him and what He did, that He would give us life eternal, too. That means that death isn’t a dead end, but a way for us to get from here, where things are broken, to a place called heaven where they aren’t.

I know, I know.  Sounds a little old fashioned?  Sounds a little archaic? But maybe it should sound like something else…like hopeful.  Maybe, just maybe it is worth checking out.  Some people think things like God, heaven and hope are just crutches to lean on, but I think something different.  I think they are a reality…something that each of us need to investigate.  When I look around at all this beauty in my part of the world, I just get the sneaking suspicion that it is too grand to be an accident. When I look up and see a zillion stars, they all seem to be saying, “Hey, God created us.” Yup, I have a feeling that it was created by Someone.  Amazingly a whole chunk of the world agrees.

I hope this Grits might at least stir your interest in the hope that Jesus can give.  I mean it is worth checking out since 100% of us are going to come to an end out there somewhere.  Why not check it out?  God can handle our doubts and accusations so don’t worry about offending Him.  Go to Him with your questions and listen carefully.  You might just hear a gentle whisper as He tells you He loves you and yes, “He’s got this.”         Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, Mother's Day, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

Momma and Her Day

Jesus also did many other things. If they were all written down, I suppose the whole world could not contain the books that would be written.” John 21:25

The older I get the more precious the memories become.  This Sunday homes across America will be observing Mother’s Day. While I always assumed that Hallmark or Russell Stover’s came up with the idea, apparently, I was wrong.  It turns out that Mother’s Day as we know it began in the early 1900s. A woman named Anna Jarvis started a campaign for an official holiday honoring mothers in 1905, the year her own mother died. The first larger-scale celebration of the holiday was in 1908, when Jarvis held a public memorial for her mother in her hometown of Grafton, West Virginia.

Over the next few years, Jarvis pushed to have the holiday officially recognized as it was celebrated in more and more states across America. Finally, in 1914, President Woodrow Wilson signed a proclamation making Mother’s Day an official holiday, to take place the second Sunday of May. Well, whether it was Hallmark’s idea or Anna Jarvis, it certainly was a winner.  The bottom line is when God gave the childbearing and a chunk of childrearing to Eve instead of Adam, He did a good thing. If it was left up to the guys, the population of the world would probably be 53 and without a mother’s love and influence…things just wouldn’t be the same.  Mothers are change makers.

Something that I have come to realize is that Mother’s Day is bigger than those who give physical birth to someone.  While that is so important, let’s not stop there.  It is even bigger than those who welcomed a child through adoption, and it exceeds those who foster children.  Mothering includes all the women who have poured their lives into the lives of others.  It could be a caring schoolteacher, a loving church member or the neighbor down the street who cares.  Mother’s Day is a big deal and right fully so.

And then of course, and guys this is for you, don’t forget to honor the mother of your children.  She deserves a prize for marrying and living with you.  I know in my life, as much as my Daddy played a role in raising me, Momma outshined him.  In so many ways, she was my hero.  I only wish I could have seen it more clearly then.  Time and again she was there to nurse, guide, prod and yes admonish me on my journey to becoming a man.

I remember the time I was so sick, and she held me gently in her lap, in the middle of the night, till my fever broke or my tummy settled, and I could fall to sleep.  I remember the time that a couple of bullies from junior high were going to plummet me. I was outgunned and outnumbered until Momma stepped up and stepped in.  I remember in second grade I forgot an important assignment and Mrs. Webb had everyone convinced that they would stay in second grade forever if they didn’t turn it in.  Yup, it was Momma who stopped her world to save mine.

I remember when I had a new pair of jeans, a rare gift, and while I was horseback riding, I was shoved into a tree by the horse and ripped a huge hole in one leg.  Nowadays it would be fashionable—then it was an embarrassment.  Somehow, someway, she managed to fix it.  Oh, and I remember hundreds of suppers and dozens of pies and homemade fruitcake with grandma’s recipe.  And on and on it would go.  Everyday something said, “I love you.”  Oh, and for the record, just like your Momma, my Momma wasn’t perfect, but she sure had a way of saying, “I love you.”  She raised eight kids, and I got the privilege of being last and, though no one would admit it, her favorite.

The Bible says that if all the things that Jesus did were written down the whole world couldn’t hold the books.  Well, that would be an exaggeration for any momma, but I do know this.  If I could remember just half of all that my Momma did for me, for our family, well this story would be a whole lot longer.  Momma went to heaven when I was only 24 years old and she never met any of my children but hopefully as we trust Jesus, like she did, God will remedy that…one day.  Until then, I want to say, “Thank you, Momma” for always being there.  Thank you, Judy, for being an incredible wife, mother to our children and Mama to our grandchildren.  And finally, to all you ladies who have poured your lives into the lives of others, thanks for making a difference.  Thanks for never giving up and always believing, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

Poud and Pouder

I will also give him a white stone, and on the stone a new name is inscribed that no one knows except the one who receives it.” Revelation 2:17

What in the world is a “Poud?” In my Grits storying I often talk about my wife Judy.  A while back I mentioned her nickname and someone asked, “What is the story there?”  Well, I am glad you asked.  Admittedly, it is a rather unusual nickname. It goes something like this.  A long, long time ago, before I was around and when Judy was young, one of her brothers stated calling her “Judy Poudy.”  Since she was the last of nine siblings, maybe they ran out of creativity? Anyway, I am assuming it was because it rhymed.  Sometime later, the family shortened the name and started calling her “Poud.”

As the years rolled by, she was “Poud” this and “Poud” that.  Well, finally, in the fulness of time (you know, like the Bible), I showed up on the stage of her life.  After we met at church it was soon time to meet parents and finally her extended family. There probably aren’t enough letters in the alphabet or adjectives in the English language to describe this crazy bunch of South Georgians. Let it be enough to say that they believed in having fun and telling tall tales.  Oh, the things one learns from sitting around their table at family gatherings and just watching and listening! Get them in a room together and the tales would start and wrapped up in those tales would be the occasional “Poud” this and “Poud” that.

Well, that could be the end of the story, but it isn’t.  You see, this crazy bunch of South Georgians knew how to make a guy feel right at home and before long I was the object of several stories, some true and some not…. and some of those stories caused me to end up with my own nickname, “Pouder.”  Now I’ll leave it to your imagination how that came about, but the new couple in the Allen clan had a new name—“Poud” and “Pouder.”  Finally, after years of marriage, we decided to make it easier by simply calling each other “Poud.”  It goes something like this, “Hey Poud?”  And the other would simply reply with “Yes, Poud.”  It doesn’t matter much now, but when we get old, it should at least be convenient.

It’s funny (no pun intended) how “Judy” became a “Judy Poudy” and together we became “Poud” and “Pouder.”  New relationships sometimes generate a new name and that is just what God does for us.  When we join His family, whatever we once were slips away and we become something new—one of His children…His son or daughter.

In the Bible, there was a woman who had an unclean issue of blood. Basically, that meant she wasn’t welcome anywhere…especially at church and because of her sickness she only knew the scorn and harshness of those around her.  But one day she met Jesus and He healed her and gave her a new name—daughter.  And when we meet Jesus…well, whatever the world and those around us used to called us, no matter how condemning, that all changes and He calls us His. I love that.

There is a scripture in the last Book in the Bible, the Revelation, and it says that one day God will give us a new name.  It says there, “I will also give him a white stone, and on the stone a new name is inscribed that no one knows except the one who receives it.”  I don’t know what all that means but I do know it will be special.  To be called His son is amazing enough but to know that He has a special name for me, for us…well, that is incredible.

I hope you have made the decision to be called His child.  It’s not just church, it’s certainly not religion—it is a relationship with Creator God.  And that unknown and special name…well, we will just have to wait and see what that is all about.  One thing is certain—it will be special, and He’s got it reserved just for me and just for you.  Until then we will just have to wait and trust that…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Like a Thief in the Night

But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into. So you also must be ready.” Matthew 24:43-44a

It was a theft of Biblical proportions.  My wife Judy and I were visiting with a couple of friends, Jim and Kathy, who attend our church. Jim told us a story that just begged to be written about. Every year they travel down to Florida and do the snowbird thing for just a week or so.  I remember last year was one of those years that nothing seemed to go right.  As I remember they said it was cold, rainy, and well, pretty yucky.  This year promised to be a bit better.  The weather cooperated but then there was this problem with the neighbors.

Toward the end of the week, Jim made a trip to the local Publix and picked out two big, thick juicy steaks and they weren’t the cheap stuff either.  Well, anyway, it was getting supper time and Kathy stayed in the condo while he headed out to the grill to cook the steaks.  Now, I’ve tasted Jim’s steaks and he is one of those guys who “has the touch.” I can only imagine the anticipation as the steaks sizzled their way to perfection. Gently poking and prodding them (some would say coddling) he watched over them like a mother bird watches her nest.  Soon they were done to perfection.

Jim then gently took the steaks off the grill and then just as gently laid them on the waiting platter. He turned around, just for a moment, just for a few precious moments, to cover the grill. When he turned back around, he saw it—or rather them.  In those few, short moments, two raccoons who were apparently waiting in the bushes rushed over, grabbed the steaks, both of them, and took off.  All Jim saw were two raccoons, two wagging tails and his two steaks, his two precious steaks, hanging from their mouths.  He was in shock. He was outraged.  Worse than that…he was left with an empty plater.

Well, there wasn’t much he could do besides go back inside to face Kathy. So, Jim carried the empty platter back to the condo and tried to explain what had happened.  She couldn’t believe it, but being the kind person that she is, she was understanding. Her now growling tummy, who had been anticipating one of Jim’s juicy steaks, was not so understanding.  It seemed to say, “What else you got, bud?”

Well, the answer was another trip to Publix and chicken for supper.  I’m sure Jim likes chicken, Kathy probably likes chicken, I would imagine even the thieving raccoons like chicken but let’s be honest—chicken isn’t steak and certainly chicken is not a nice, thick, perfectly cooked steak. This whole story is enough to make a grown man cry and I think it did—while laughing so hard when Jim told me this tale of woe. 

So, who would have thought it?  Who would have thought that two raccoons could steal two steaks…right in the middle of a condo complex?  Who would have thought they could have pulled the heist off in just a few short seconds? It just proves that anything can happen…any time and when you least expect it.  You always must be ready.

Speaking of ready, are you?  The Bible talks about a time when Jesus, the same One who was born that first Christmas morning, the same One who performed all kinds of miracles, the same One who allowed Himself to be nailed to a Roman cross and die there and yes, the same One who came back to life three days later (that’s Easter, remember?), that same Jesus is going to come back to earth and take His followers back to heaven with Him.

Does that sound a little too strange to believe?  Well, if I’ve learned anything it is when a man can predict His own death and resurrection and then pull it off—well, you just must go with it. The Bible says that when Jesus comes back, and He will, He will come like a thief in the night—faster than two raccoons stealing two steaks right off the platter.  I’m sure if Jim had any idea, he would have been a little more cautious—a little more ready.  Maybe the story today has sparked your interest in this man called Jesus. Go ahead and Google Him and His story…after all, His story is history.  Got questions? Find a Jesus follower, and ask or better yet, ask Jesus’ Father.  How? That’s called prayer. You will find that He has all the answers—after all, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Taking Care of Family

If you help the poor, you are lending to the Lord—and He will repay you!” Proverbs 19:17

I know I didn’t know them…but I felt I did. As a pastor I occasionally receive a call from either a funeral home or a family that has experienced the loss of a loved one and they don’t have a pastor that can help them.  Well, that happened recently.  A mother had died and her sister, on behalf of the family, contacted me.  Could I help them?  I agreed but I had a request.  I try and make every service personal and special and since I didn’t know her or the family, I asked they provide some personal memories of their mom.  Graciously they did, and in so doing they painted a picture.

She and her husband were blessed with five children—a challenge and a blessing. As they sent the comments to the sister and then to me, it became painfully apparent that life had been financially hard.  Their mother had worked at a local manufacturing plant but was constantly being laid off.  When she was, she worked as a cook at one of the local restaurants.  It finally reached the point where the inconsistency of the one job made the other more attractive and she began working all the time at the restaurant.

She appreciated the consistency of the restaurant job, but it made for an even tighter budget at home.  I was moved by the comments of each one of her children.  They were so appreciative for a Momma that did everything possible to provide for them.  They spoke of gratitude for a roof over their heads, food for their stomach, and heat in the winter.  One spoke of the fact that regardless of the fact that Momma and the family were broke, somehow, someway, she made sure there were presents at Christmas and on their birthdays. That meant a lot to me.

At the service I rhetorically asked, “What does success mean?” It was one of those questions that I didn’t expect an answer…but I got one.  Quietly, one of her sons said, “Being comfortably full.” When he said that it moved me…it still moves me.  In a world where it seems everyone one has so much, in this family’s world abundance was a roof, some heat, food for their stomach and on a real good day, being comfortably full.

After hearing from her son, I went on to say that to me success is owning the things that money can’t buy…the things that don’t come from Walmart or some other store.  Success is five kids who at their Momma’s funeral talk about the sacrifices she made, the hard work she did to make sure they had a roof over their head, some heat, and food in their stomachs.  I then read a story paragraph that someone wrote about success.  It said, “What is success? Success is living well, laughing often, and loving much. Success is gaining the respect of those who know us best; finding and living our purpose and leaving our world better than we found it.” I finished that service in deep appreciation of a 72-year-old mother who did that and so much more.  She gave her five kids a home.

I’ve written several times that money was pretty thin when we were growing up, but I am sure we had more than this family and these kids.  I’ve written before how much I appreciated the fact that Momma and Daddy always made Christmas and birthdays happen.  It may have been courtesy of the local finance company, but it happened.  Now I am reminded that there were and are plenty of people where even that would not have been an option but somehow—they make it happen.

So, I’m just writing to say thank-you to someone I never knew—but felt I did.  I want to say thank-you to five grown up now kids who taught me to appreciate even more deeply what my Momma and Daddy did. They too made it happen whether it was a roof over our heads, or fuel oil in our kerosene tank or food on the table.  Let me encourage you to take the opportunity to thank the ones who made it happen in your life—whether it was years ago or yesterday.  Maybe take the time to whisper a prayer of gratitude for those in your family—or maybe even outside your family—that made it happen.

Maybe, just maybe, you can be one that helps make it happen.  Maybe you know someone who could use a little help.  Maybe God has given you a little more so you can share with those who have a little less. Proverbs 19:17 says, “If you help the poor, you are lending to the Lord—and He will repay you!” I like that.  When we share, we are being the hands and feet of Jesus and that is always a good thing.  You may be the one that your Dearest Daddy uses to whisper in someone else’s ear—someone who is struggling to make it happen.  And what is whispering? “I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, heaven, life, prayer, Scripture, thankful, travel

And They Sang

The heavens declare the glory of God, and the expanse proclaims the work of His hands. Day after day they pour out speech; night after night they communicate knowledge.” Psalm 19:1-2

I think He was just showing off.  In one of our more creative moments, either my wife Judy or I thought it would be a great idea to take a little overnighter for Valentine’s Day.  So, we did.  There is place called Camp Ondessonk about 24 miles from our house.  They have a great cabin there and we decided to rent it for Friday night.  Now when I say cabin don’t think like rustic and primitive…think nice…like nicer than a Holiday Inn.  Well, we made a day of it.  First, we drove a couple of hours to a very special restaurant and had a great lunch.  Then we drove up to Paducah for a quick visit with one of the kids and their kids.  It was a great time.

Finally, it was time head to the camp and our cabin.  I have to admit I was a bit reluctant at first because it was a little pricy and I said to myself, “Self, it can’t be that nice.”  Well, once again, I was wrong because it really was…nice. We settled in and watched a little television.  Yes, they even had internet and television…I was just hoping for running water and indoor plumbing.  After a while, Judy said she was going to go out and check out the stars.  It was already below freezing and at first, I thought she had dropped a couple of her marbles.  Mark it down…wrong twice.

In a few minutes, she came back in and said, “Dewayne, you have to come outside and see this.  The stars are brighter than Africa.”  Now, I realize you probably haven’t been to Africa and looked up at the stars on a clear night.  They are so amazing I figured there was at least a possibility that she was exaggerating…just a little bit.  I slipped on my shoes and joined her on the deck.  She was right.  Without much light pollution, the stars were literally breathtaking. Imagine a field of diamonds, of every color of white and blue and all of different caret sizes. Now, imagine again and again and again. It was wonderful.

Well, we finally went back inside but before bedtime we wandered out one more time.  It seemed we couldn’t get enough of God’s wonder show.  Finally, it was bedtime and since we were in the middle of nowhere, Judy suggested we raise the blinds in the bedroom.  We did and lying there in bed we had a front row seat to the show all over again.  I just knew we were going to see a falling star or two but we didn’t but that was ok because the razzle, dazzle of the stars was more than enough.  All through the night, when I woke up to roll over, there they were shouting, singing, and showing the glory of God.

I know I might overuse this verse in Grits but this time, well, it is just so appropriate not to.  In the Old Testament part of the Bible, Psalms19:1-2, it says, “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the expanse proclaims the work of His hands. Day after day they pour out speech; night after night they communicate knowledge.” I have long loved that verse but after Friday I not only love it, but I also more fully understand it.  There before my eyes was part of God’s creation and their job was simply to proclaim His glory and they did it well…very well.

Judy and I are already planning another trip to one of our new favorite places. I sure hope when we go the skies are once again clear so God’s starry sky can once again proclaim His glory.  Lee Ann Womack sings a song about creation and God.  In that song she sings, “There is a God, there is a God, there is a God…how much proof do you need?  Well, I don’t know about you, but Friday night was enough for me.  Let me encourage you to go and find a good dark place the next time the skies are crystal clear.  Then…look up.  And if the world is dark enough you will see the choir singing about Him and then do two things.  First, remember He who made that made you and loves you immensely.  Second, remember and never forget that no matter what we are facing, He is bigger, and He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Not Bad, Just Hard

I am the Way, the Truth and the Life.  No one comes to the Father, but by Me.” Jesus in John 14:6

It was Monday…and my brother died. It wasn’t a total surprise as we knew his health was deteriorating. He and his wife had been living in an assisted living facility for several years.  As he grew older, as often happens, his body began to wear out and finally Monday morning it just quit working.  He not only was my brother, but he was my oldest brother. He was seventeen years older than me and in so many ways he was more than just a brother…he was like a second father. To a large degree he helped mold me into who I am today…especially spiritually.  My brother was a believer, a Jesus follower and if I may say so…a pretty good one at that.  In fact, I can’t remember him ever not being a Jesus follower. 

He was the one who always made sure I had a ride to church.  He was one of those three-time-a-week goers, so I suppose that is why it has been a habit in my life too.  Over the years, he shared a lot of good advice with me…advice that has guided me along my journey. When I became a pastor, he offered me some Godly wisdom and for my birthday gifted me with a couple of foundational books.  At one of the churches I pastored, he felt led to lend a hand financially…something he did for more than a few years. He was like a father but he also was like the State Farm commercial that says, “just like a good neighbor, State Farm is there.” He was always there.  Oh, we lived in different parts of the country…but that didn’t matter.  That’s how some relationships are.

My brother wasn’t just my oldest brother…he was my last brother.  When he left town on Monday for a bigger and better place, I looked around and realized I was the last brother standing.  And that was another of those, “mortality moments.”  He was just shy of 86 when he left here and went there—there being heaven.  Eighty-six is a pretty good number, especially for men and especially for Taylor men. At first there were five of us Taylor men and three had already changed addresses—thankfully all in heaven.  So, that left the bookends—my oldest brother at one end and me, the youngest at the other. He lived a long, good life…not the richest guy, not the most popular guy, and not the most powerful guy. In the end those don’t matter anyway.  What matters is he was a Jesus guy. He made a difference. He made an impact. He left a legacy.

So, what happened that Monday morning when the last heartbeat came? Often our first thought is something bad happened.  Well, I guess you could say God, through His Word, helped me have a different view.  As I looked at all of this, death, life, and all that it entails, it seemed God said, “Dewayne, this isn’t bad…it’s just hard.”  It immediately became lodged not in my throat but in my heart.  Not.Bad.Just.Hard.  Now don’t misread this, because there is plenty of bad in the world but with God painted into the picture, His grace and mercy can change bad to just hard.

You see, when my brother’s heart stopped the other day, he gave up a broken world for one that is perfect. He gave up a broken body for one that is perfect. He gave up sickness, tears, and sadness for a place where none of that exists. No assisted living, no hospitals, no funeral homes—just a home like none we can ever imagine—at home with his Dearest Daddy.  See, it’s hard for us, sometimes really hard for us, however for him…no…he’s doing better than ever before. You might say that he is more alive than ever before.

My brother loved our family reunions and guess what? There is one coming that will outshine them all.  Because of my pastoral responsibilities and distance, I didn’t make too many of the reunions but this one coming up…I’ll be there.  Oh, it isn’t because I’m a preacher, or go to church, or belong to one denomination or another.  No, just like my brother, I’ll be there because I am a Jesus guy and He is the way to the reunion of all reunions.  Jesus said, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life and no one comes to the Father but by Me.”  Yes, it is a narrow road but the grand part is everyone is invited to participate.  All you have to do is say, “Yes” to Jesus.

So, my brother died…well…actually His body died but not him.  I’ll see him again and that’s not bad. The separation is hard but there is a party coming…one for the ages.  You need to know that God wants you there also, and He made it possible for that to happen.  Jesus, faith, grace, and mercy.  Indeed, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Ready…..or Not

Preach the word; be ready in season and out of season.”

2 Timothy 4:2

Do you think they would mind,” she asked?  It was over a year ago but even now I savor the moment. It was very early in the morning on our last day at Key Colony.  I awoke from a good night’s sleep (I mean we were on vacation), made a cup of coffee, and headed down to the beach.  Sunrise was a good hour away, but the water and the air were both calm.  The only sound was the gentle lap of the waves against the sandy shore.  This is my time of the day.  God is in the labor room delivering another day for us to enjoy…and I love it.

After a while, the sky slowly turned gray, and you could see the beginning of the sunrise.  It was going to be a good one.  About that time, my wife Judy wandered out and sat down with me.  Just when you think something couldn’t get better…it does.  Judy seems to make anything better.  We chatted and sipped coffee enjoying the creation process.  After another few minutes, the sun peeked over the horizon and another day was born.  Good job, Father, and thank you.  Now that it was daylight, you could see that the water was not only calm…it was crystal clear.  It was then that Karen walked up.

We had talked with Karen and her boyfriend the night before.  We talked about life, faith, and God.  It was an opportunity for me to share some about how much God loved us.  Gary had a large tattoo on his left arm that said, “Faith.”  That gave an opportunity to talk about not only faith, but where that faith should be directed.  I shared it wasn’t enough just to have faith…you had to direct that faith in the right direction…right toward God.

When Karen walked up that morning, I noticed that she was carrying two small containers. I could tell that something was on her mind and that is when she asked the question.  She asked, “Do you think they would mind if I poured my son’s and husband’s ashes in the water?” I quickly assured her that I was sure they would not.  It turned out that her son had tragically died of an opioid overdose at the age of 22.  I didn’t get the details of her husband’s death but since she was in her early fifties, I assumed he too died young.  Then, it was my turn to ask a question.  I asked, “Would you like me to say a prayer?”  And, without hesitation, she answered yes.

Judy asked if Karen would like to have a picture taken and she agreed to that too. All three of us walked down into the water and slowly Karen opened the containers and poured the ashes into the water.  As they touched the water, it turned to a color very similar to wet cement but then just as quickly the color disappeared.  She said a few words, speaking to the souls she could no longer hold.  And then, I asked God for His peace to be on Karen.  I thanked Him for His love…even in hard times like this.  With an amen we were done. Almost.

Judy and I both gave Karen a hug…that was the only way we knew we could tell her we cared, and that God cared too.  As we left the water, Karen headed to Dunkin’ Donuts for a cup of coffee and Judy and I returned to our chairs by the beach.  We knew that we had kept a divine appointment.  I wish I could write and share how Karen and Gary both placed their faith in Jesus but that wasn’t the case…at least not that day.  But I do know we scattered seed in their lives.  I know we left fingerprints on their lives and heart and who knows what God will do with that.

When I woke up that morning, I didn’t know I was going to preside over a funeral standing in the Florida Straits.  Judy didn’t know she was going to act as a memory maker for Karen…but our Dearest Daddy did.  He knew…just as He always does.  We just need to be ready whenever He opens a door or a window and then simply walk where He leads.

Paul, the one who wrote a chunk of the New Testament, told a young preacher named Timothy one day, “Preach the word; be ready in season and out of season.”  When he said to preach…trust me, it was more than standing on a stage on any given Sunday…and it wasn’t just for preachers and teachers.  It was for all of us Jesus followers and it is for all places…planned…or not.  I learned a long time ago that the best sermons are often not preached on Sunday…rather, they are lived out over the course of the other six days. So, let’s be ready to be used.  It may be at the store, on the job or at the ballfields.  Just remember this.  When the time comes, He will be there to help and you can rest assured, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne