Posted in Family, fear, food, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, school days, Scripture, Southern born, travel, Trials

Self-Made Messes

For the mountains may move and the hills disappear, but even then, My faithful love for you will remain. My covenant of blessing will never be broken,” says the Lord, who has mercy on you.” Isaiah 54:10

We were somewhere in Texas.  It was probably in the early sixties, somewhere around 1962 or three.  We were on vacation, which meant we were going to see my brother who lived in Texas. We are driving in our 1957 Plymouth, no air conditioning with Momma and Daddy up front and the “three little ones” spanning and filling the backseat.  It was very early in the morning and best I can remember we had driven all night—probably to save time and probably to save the cost of a hotel.  Well, in the very early morning, right when the darkness is fleeing, Leslie told Alston that we should stop and eat breakfast. So…we did.

It was a “mom and pop” place. Places like McDonald’s and the like didn’t exist and if they did, they were rare.  However, this was a roadside diner and for the Taylor tribe it was a treat.  Momma turned around and stirred us into some sort of consciousness as Daddy pulled into the parking lot.  We were soon settled into a large booth and breakfast was ordered.  I was going to write how I had the traditional breakfast of eggs and bacon, but I think I remember that Momma had given me a choice and I chose pancakes.

Soon our food came and still a bit sleepy, I drowned the pancakes in sweet, sticky syrup. And it was right about then it happened.  In my mostly still asleep state, I tried to cut the pancakes with my fork when quickly and promptly the whole plate fell in my lap.  Pancakes and syrup filled my lap…and I began to cry.  It really wasn’t as much about the loss of the pancakes, as it was about the loss of my dignity. Even at that young age I knew I had made a big mess and it felt like every person in the restaurant was looking at the kid who had messed up.

Of course, that wasn’t true.  The ones in the booth knew and I can’t remember their response.  The other two little ones, my sisters, weren’t known for being generous with kindness so I, and perhaps unfairly, assumed they had something to say about their baby brother.  And Daddy, well, he probably was like a lot of other Daddy’s and wondered what happened, how it happened and most of all, why it happened.  But then there was Momma.  As I remember, there were no words of condemnation for this mess I had made but rather a helping hand to begin cleaning up the mess. It seems I remember kindness when I deserved a “shaking down.” In other words, it seems she showed grace when I deserved none. It seems she showed mercy when I didn’t deserve that either.

Looking back, that seems like one of those times when Momma was a whole lot like God. Her child had made a mess and rather than judge she extended kindness. Now to be fair, Momma’s don’t always get it right…and neither do we. But that time…she did.  And guess what? We have a Dearest Daddy, who gets it right every time.  When we make a mess, He doesn’t chasten or belittle…no, He loves and gently helps us clean up the mess…a mess of our own making.  So today or tomorrow when you find yourself with a lap full of pancakes and sticky syrup, just remember the Father sitting by you is waiting to help.  You can rest assured that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, life, love, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials

The Paradoxes of Life

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make straight your paths.” Proverbs 3:5-6

It’s a bit of a paradox. There’s a tale about a married couple, both doctors, strolling down the street together. Observers quip, “Oh look, a ‘pair of docs,” or a paradox.  Smile. Here’s my own paradox, unrelated to doctors: I love to travel. My wife Judy and I eagerly anticipate our journeys – they’re like life’s sweet treats.

But here’s the paradox – to travel, you must go somewhere, and that inevitably involves potential frustration. Whether it’s a canceled flight, a delayed train, or an unexpected traffic jam, interruptions are part and parcel of the journey. Recently, driving south on Interstate 24, we encountered a slowdown due to ongoing roadwork. However, this time was different. Everyone smoothly merged into a single lane, and we were cruising south at a reduced but respectable speed—until brake lights appeared.

Suddenly, we found ourselves in a traffic jam. The GPS confirmed an accident ahead, yet as we approached, it wasn’t the catastrophic scene I anticipated. Three vehicles were pulled over, minimal damage evident. No police, no ambulances—just people chatting. Once past the scene, life returned to normal, and we resumed our journey.

Here’s what struck me: the choices of those drivers caused a mess, and while a slowdown was warranted—a shutdown wasn’t! It could have been curiosity or maybe people overacted but one thing is sure—it wasn’t the accident. Oh well, things do happen.

And here lies the paradox. In practical terms, travel involves bumps and slowdowns – it’s part of life’s journey. While you strive to avoid them, don’t let them overshadow the things you love. Learn to accept them as part of the adventure. I’m still learning, but it feels worth exploring – imagine finding joy not just in the journey but also in the bumps and slowdowns.

As someone who believes in the teachings of the Bible, I trust that God has His hand on life’s wheel and throttle. There’s a reason for the smooth rides and the bumpy roads. It’s about being willing to trust Him for both. A proverb from the Book of Proverbs says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own understanding; in all your ways know Him, and He will make your paths straight.” So, trust Him in the twists and turns of life whether they are expected or not.

When I saw those brake lights, there was a gentle whisper in my ear – not of frustration or demand, but a familiar reassurance: “Don’t worry, son, I’ve got this.” – Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, life, loving others, priorities, Scripture, thankful, travel

Mind the Gap – Watch Your Step

Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise.” Ephesians 5:15

Mind the gap. When I watch travel shows and even when we visit London, there is always talk about the Tube—or the subway.  And you can count on one thing.  The announcer will always remind you to “Mind the Gap.” It really is just another way of saying, “Watch your step.” Another place you should always watch your step is when you are in a cow pasture. Here are a couple of cautions.  First, make sure it’s indeed a cow pasture and not one occupied by bulls. Bulls can be bullies so an immediate retreat to the nearest fence is advisable. Secondly, watch out for cow patties – trust me on this one.

There are numerous instances in life where you need to be cautious, and one such experience occurred during a hike near Bell Smith Springs. My wife, Judy, and I have taken a liking to hiking for both exercise and the chance to enjoy nature. On a previous occasion, we tackled the Sentry Ridge Trail, a three-mile loop offering scenic views of a canyon with a creek. It’s a beautiful trail, but with the beauty comes a challenge.

The trail, often rocky with large slabs of native stone, requires you to carefully watch your step. Neglecting this can lead to ankle twists, unpleasant falls, or finding yourself on the way down a wooded cliff. The risk factor though is higher or lower depending on the hiker’s perspective. Let me explain.  While I, the conqueror, focus on reaching the destination, Judy, the lady of the trail, wants to savor every detail along the way.

Though I try to indulge her, there’s a problem – looking around means not looking down. Neglecting the rocks beneath your feet can lead to trouble. While a conqueror might prefer pressing on, there’s wisdom in pausing to appreciate the journey. The joy lies in seizing moments, enjoying what’s surrounding you. While I may not need a picture of every rock and tree, acknowledging the Creator’s handiwork is essential.

Failure to pause results in missing the best parts of the trip or day. Once, during a drive, Judy pointed out the “Wolf Moon,” a massive full moon. Despite my conqueror instincts, I glanced and marveled at its magnificence. Taking time to enjoy life’s moments is crucial, and even if it drives you nuts at times, it adds joy to the journey.

Paul, one of the rock stars (no pun intended) in the New Testament, urged us to make the most of our time. This involves not just working through life but also savoring the journey. I’m grateful to be married to someone who understands this, even if it occasionally drives me nuts. So, mind your step but also take a few minutes to relish life around you. With the Creator’s help, you can. After all, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Praying Mantis

When you’re in over your head, I’ll be there with you. When you’re in rough waters, you will not go down. When you’re between a rock and a hard place, it won’t be a dead end—because I am God, your personal God, the Holy of Israel, your Savior.” Isaiah 43:2-3a

He was coming after me.  Over the years, my wife Judy and I have made many trips to Africa.  We have spent time in Niger, Mali, and Uganda.  All were unique in their own way, and all were very special.  Our time in Mali was especially so.  We were working with one of our favorite missionaries.  She is the real deal kind—the kind that if you were to stick her finger…she would bleed Jesus.  Those trips were also highlighted because we worked with a group of One-Story girls.  These college age young ladies gave up the comforts of home to spend a couple of years living in the African bush telling people about Jesus.  They were incredible.

So, on one of these trips the team had one of those especially good days.  We were able to minister and share with a lot of folks.  We would start early and go the entire day.  We would do mostly medical missions and storytelling and encouraging.  When we got back to wherever we were staying we would have supper together.  Then, when the African sun had finally called it a day, we would gather under a large open air bamboo….uh, thing.  We would sing, share stories, and have a brief devotion before joining the sun and calling it a day too.

These team times were very special moments.  As the days passed, we as a team became closer and closer together.  There were about twelve or fourteen of us…so not too large.  Of course, that didn’t include other guests.  Sometimes Africans from where we were staying would join us, and of course some or all the interpreters.  And then there were the other guests.  Their names would make you think they were members of the team…but they weren’t.  Praying may have been part of their name but, it wasn’t on their agenda.  They were…praying mantis.

These large insects—about the size of a small eagle—would be drawn to the light as we sang and shared.  Slowly they would start circling, choosing their targets.  Now, I don’t know if they intended to bite someone—I don’t think so, or if they intended to carry someone off to their secret lair.  Regardless, it was just a little spooky.  Finally, and who knows why, I was picked by one of them.  Repeatedly, this fellow would dive and try to land on me—particularly my face. Ok…it was weird.  I was grateful when the prayer time was over. I confess I cheated and kept one eye open looking out for my newly found friend.

Judy and I headed back to our hut and prepared for bed.  We had a mosquito net over our bed to keep out those pesky insects and their friends. Soon it was lights out and off to sleep.  Sometime later, we were awakened by the sound of something larger than a mosquito.  Lion? No. Tiger? No? Elephant? No. It was the…praying mantis.  Apparently, he followed me home and waited for the lights to go out before once again taunting me.  It turns out there was a small hole in the top of our mosquito net, and he found his way in and then…it happened.

As Judy and I lay in the African night, from out of the darkness (no electricity) the praying mantis landed square on my face.  Now what happened next can’t be written because it goes beyond the 26 letters in the English alphabet. I jumped up and started clawing in the darkness trying to find my stalking insect.  I finally grabbed him (gross), wrestled him to the bed (remember they are the size of eagles…smile), raised the net and chucked him outside somewhere, anywhere but where he was.  And then I did some praying of my own.  “Lord, please don’t let him find the hole again.”  Thankfully, he didn’t, and thankfully that was the last I saw of him.

Well, the next night I had a testimony to share at story time.  We all had a good laugh (and by the way…they really aren’t as big as …eagles but it sure seemed that way.) I remember telling my teammates how grateful I was for answered prayer…and honestly, I was.  Until you’ve had something like that land on your face, in the dark, in Africa—well you just can’t appreciate a God who answers unusual prayers. But you know, that’s the kind of God that He is.  Nothing is too big…and nothing is too small for this Dearest Daddy who calls us His own.

One time God was talking to Israel through the prophet Isaiah and He said no matter what we face…when we are over our head in trouble, or maybe between a rock and a hard place or even the occasional fiery furnace—He will be with us. Why?  Because He is our Savior, our Lord, our God. Wow…what a great scripture and I can add to that list “face eating praying mantis.”  God is always there with us and for us and no matter what, He’s got this.  Take that, Mr. Mantis.  Bro. Dewayne

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Posted in Family, food, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Military memories, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials, USA

Three Days and a Wake Up

When the Lord brought back the captivity of Zion, we were like those who dream. Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing.” Psalm 126:1-2a

We were finally coming home.  From August 1977 to August 1980, we lived in Germany while serving in the United States Air Force.  Our time there was incredible.  We saw windmills in Holland, the alps of Switzerland, the famous horse-fountain in Salzburg, and ate real pizza in Italy.  Where we lived was much like living in the middle of the Shawnee Forest—large rolling hills and lush green forest, but with more snow.  We loved it.

Some hard times happened while we were there too.  Those were the days of no internet, no cell phone, and no overnight delivery from Amazon prime.  Landline phone calls were rare and expensive and snail mail was all there was.  I remember Judy receiving a letter that opened, “I guess you heard about your dad’s heart attack.” Turns out right after we left for Germany, he had a massive heart attack and almost died.  Another night in our second year at about midnight or so, a knock came at our apartment door.  It was an officer from my squadron.  He said I needed to call the Red Cross immediately.  My mother was dying.  They connected me to my sister-in-law in Florida.  Her words were simple and direct, “If you want to see your Momma alive you have to come now.”  We made it home the day before she died.

So, our time in Germany was divine but difficult.  The bottom line is at the end of three years we were more than ready to come home.  As the time neared and preparations were underway for our leaving and returning, we started counting down.  Everyone did. We would say, “25 days and a wake up. 13 days and a wake up. Three days and a wake up.” Finally, we woke up, got on a plane, and came home.  There was no place like home. There is no place like home.

I can remember picking our VW van at the airport (we had shipped it home) and driving.  It was marvelous.  We could read the signs and we could understand the people.  Instead of four dollars for a gallon of gas it was 69 cents.  I stopped at a market and got a fried apple pie.  I can still almost taste it.  For lunch we stopped at McDonald’s.  No big deal, right?  Not at all unless you had spent the last three years explaining a cheeseburger and fries to someone who didn’t speak English.  And, instead of a few dollars you paid almost twenty.  As I ordered at the counter, speaking English, and being understood…I wept. I apologized to the young lady and explained we had been away for three years.  And I explained…there is no place like home.

Then many years later, all too well, I remember those ten weeks when we were on Covid shutdown in our town. Finally, after too many weeks away, our church family had the opportunity to come home.  The long-awaited Sunday arrived, and we gathered as a corporate body to sing, pray and preach.  What did we learn?  Well one thing is for sure—there is no place like home.  My time in Germany taught me several things and one of them is you appreciate the simple things.  A fried apple pie and a McDonald’s cheeseburger never tasted so good.  My family never looked so good.  Driving on the roads of America never felt so good.  Reading the billboards never seemed so interesting.  By the way, did they ever find out who shot J.R.?  Smile. Somethings were different but it was still…home.

Like those things, going back to church was like coming home and I was almost giddy. When the Israelites realized they were coming home after 70 years in Babylon they were just a little more than giddy.  Here’s what one of their songwriters wrote, “When the Lord brought back the captivity of Zion, we were like those who dream. Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing.” In those words, you can almost feel their excitement. Things were going to be different when they got there but that didn’t matter.  They were going home.

This weekend, and every weekend after, when you walk into your place of worship remember how it felt that day to come home. Remember that and the small things that bug you probably won’t. When “Bob” irritates you at church, just pause and remember how good it was to be with others that first time back.  When the sermon seems too long, and the music too loud and the room too warm…yup…just remember how good it was…how good it is, to be home.  And, when something fearful pops up or something rubs you wrong…just remember the time He brought you home, when you rested in Him, when you realized He’s got this.  And dream. And sing. Be like the ones who knew the Lord turned our captivity. Because He has.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, loving others, New Year, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel

New Year’s Eve Eve

And they sang responsively, praising and giving thanks to the Lord: “For He is good, for His mercy endures forever toward Israel.” Ezra 3:11

We weren’t famous but we had fun.  I was fortunate to have what a lot of kids never did. First, I know that not everybody did or does the church thing…and certainly not all teenagers.  However, when I was growing up it seemed a lot more kids did.  I went to the same church from the time I was about 10 until I joined the Air Force at age 18.  We had the most incredible youth group you could imagine.  We were all good friends and it seemed we did everything together.  Almost every Friday or Saturday night we had a party at someone’s house.  It was some kind of cookout and always involved some kind of crazy game. Personally, I was partial to spin-the-bottle.  Smile.

Music was a huge part of our teen years.  Again, it was different times, but I believe our group was special.  We would rush through our Sunday night Bible study just so we could sit in a room and sing four-part harmony.  We weren’t the Tabernacle Choir, but we sounded pretty good and better than that—we loved it.  After church it would be a trip to Frosty’s or one of the local pizza places.  I believe that a lot of who I am today came from that group and the awesome leaders who poured into our lives.  Musically that would be Lloyd and Jane.  She was the church pianist, and he was the music director.  They loved Jesus, loved music, and loved kids—in that order.  And that is how it all started.

It had to be Lloyd and Jane that came up with the idea of forming a four-part quartet.  Now you must understand in the late sixties and very early seventies, two things were huge: church softball and gospel music.  So, it probably seemed more natural than not.  Four of us young men, Doug, David, Steve, and myself, formed a quartet with Melody on the piano.  After a contest to find a name, we became…drumroll please, “The Youngmun”. Lloyd and Jane took us under their wing and taught us how to sing parts, add tone and balance and after a while we sounded decent.  Then, we started getting gigs—opportunities to sing.  Sometimes it was Friday nights, sometimes Saturday nights and sometimes Sunday afternoons with a sprinkling of times in-between.

We just had a great time. We loved to sing and were really good friends.  One of the Bible guys said that we should sing responsively, praising and giving thanks to the Lord: “For He is good, for His mercy endures forever toward Israel.” And do you know what?  We tried to do exactly that. Well, eventually we went our separate ways, but the memories still live in my heart.  And that is the reason for this story.

You see, back then there were things called “all night singings”.  You can guess what it was by the title.  While they were held at different times the all-time favorite was New Year’s Eve.  Churches or groups of churches would book groups and they would literally sing all night long.  More than once we sang very late or very early—depending on your perspective.  And amazingly, people came, and people stayed.

Well, times have changed.  I rarely hear of gospel concerts like the ones from days gone by.  I know there are some but not to the level of those days.  I don’t miss staying up all night—these days if I make it to 10:00pm I am doing good.  The ball may fall in Times Square, but it does it without me!  But I do miss the way we started out the New Year.  Being with a bunch of people who loved Jesus and loved music was cool.  Song after song spoke in poetic ways of God’s incredible love for us and the hope of tomorrow and the day after that “Because He Lives.”

You know, it probably wouldn’t work today to try and have an all-night singing, but do you know what would work?  This New Year’s Eve maybe we could, maybe we should, take some time to thank God for all the blessings He sent in 2023.  Now, don’t make the mistake of thinking He went on strike.  Oh no, His blessings, His love notes were everywhere.

No matter what 2024 holds, if we choose to follow the God who made it all, if we will trust and believe, no matter what—I think we will find that it’s gonna be a great year.  We may not always get exactly what we want from God, but we always get what is exactly right for us.  Someone said He is too wise to make a mistake and too good to be unkind.  I know, sometimes it doesn’t feel that way, but He loves us—a lot.  How much—enough to plan Christmas and Easter—and that is a lot.

So, I don’t know your plans for New Year’s Eve, but I hope it includes Him…the God who wants to be your Father—your Dearest Daddy.  I hope it will include some quiet time so that you two can chat as the Whisper whispers His love in your ear.  Listen as He speaks those three precious words, “I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, Holidays, life, love, Military memories, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, travel, Trials

Hard Christmas

Know therefore that the Lord your God is God; He is the faithful God, keeping His covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love Him and keep His commands.” Deuteronomy 7:9

Not every Christmas is merry and bright.  I suppose if we live long enough all of us will experience a Christmas that is not so merry.  Life can be difficult and when those difficulties occur around the holidays, it can be difficult indeed.  I remember 1972 which was my first Christmas in the Air Force. I managed to get leave and fly home from Minot Air Force Base, North Dakota.  When I arrived home, the house was dark and empty.  There were no decorations, no tree.  My father had suffered yet another big heart attack and he was in the hospital recovering.  It was hard.

Another time that Christmas had a dark shadow was December 1978.  Judy and I were stationed in Sembach, Germany.  It was a great place to live, and it seemed that every day was an adventure.  We were living off base in an apartment, a short drive from the base.  Just living in a German village was an adventure in itself. The heat did not turn on until October 1 of each year, no matter how cold it was, and the heat didn’t go off until May 1, no matter how warm it was. There was no air conditioning, which we didn’t need anyway. In one of our apartments, I especially remember the small two-gallon hot water heater.  It called for a very quick shower.  Judy had long hair in those days, and it was a race to get her, and her hair washed before her two gallons of warm water were gone.

We also didn’t have a phone.  Of course, cell phones were a long way in the future and land lines were very expensive.  In December of 1978, we were sound asleep when we heard a sharp knock on the door.  It must have been about 1:00 am in the morning.  I went to the door to find the officer of the day for my squadron.  He was there to let me know I had a call from the Red Cross, and I needed to call them immediately. He followed me to the base and from my office I made the call.  The Red Cross had made arrangements for me to call my brother and sister-in-law in Florida.  The message was short and to the point.  My sister-in-law Sonia said, “Dewayne, honey, if you want to see your Momma while she is still alive, you need to come home right away.”  I was shocked.  I had no idea that she was sick—especially not that sick.

Well, when you are thousands of miles from home across the Atlantic nothing happens quickly.  But as fast as the wheels could turn and with a lot of help from the Red Cross and the Air Force, Judy and I were able to catch a transport aircraft back to the States.  It landed at Dover Air Force Base on Sunday, December 3rd. My brother, who lived in New Jersey, was able to pick us up and together we drove south to Jacksonville. It was a long day’s journey and we got there on Monday afternoon.  We went straight to the hospital and were able to see Momma for a few minutes. We then went to my brother’s house to get some rest.

That evening we gathered, visited, and prayed.  We told God that whatever He wanted was ok.  If He chose to heal Momma of that cancer, that was great but if He chose to heal her by taking her home…that was ok too.  The next day He answered our prayer.  Momma went to heaven—less than 24 hours after we got there.  It was Tuesday, December 5th and she was 62 and I was only 24.  Well, we planned the service and celebrated her life and worshiped her God and our God.  We had some family business to take care of and when that was finished, so were we.  Judy and I had enough leave approved to stay for Christmas, but the truth was, there was no reason to stay.  There was not a home place anymore, so we decided to go back to our home—in Germany.  In a few days, we were back and celebrated Christmas knowing that it would never really be the same again.

I can’t tell you it wasn’t hard because it was.  I was grateful we had a couple of weeks before Christmas, but it was still the season.  It felt strange to leave a home that wasn’t home anymore. As much as we loved Germany, we realized when we got back to the States 18 months later, there would be no going home for Christmas.  And then God, via the Air Force, planted us in Missouri for a few years and then a whole lot of years in Illinois.  He also called me to pastor so that meant Christmas was here every year.  And do you know what?  That was ok because God gave us a new family to love and care for us.  That family was His people wherever He placed us to serve.

No, every Christmas is not merry and bright and we (who have some sense of normal this Christmas) need to remember those whose life is anything but normal this year.  It may be the loss of a loved one, it may be loss of health or a job or maybe the lack of certainty for the future.  But like the Bible says, “Know therefore that the Lord your God is God; He is the faithful God, keeping His covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love Him and keep His commands.”

This year has been a harder year, as we saw in January my oldest brother move to heaven. And then in June, one of my nephews at 42 years of age also went to be with Jesus after a battle with cancer. These memories are a good reminder that we need to love one another.  We need to take the time to love and hold those whose Christmas might be hard. And, just like that night in December when my brothers and sisters came together and told God whatever He wanted for Momma was ok…we need to come together and tell Him whatever the future looks like, we will trust Him with that, too.  I’m so grateful that He is faithful, that He is good, and that He can be trusted.  And because of that, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Just Like Papa

And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.” Hebrews 10:24

It is one of my favorite pictures.  It was more than a few years ago when Blake and Sarah were stationed in Savanah, Georgia.  He was serving in the United States Army, and they were one of thousands of families who make the sacrifice to go where they are sent and do what they are called to do.  Now, of all the places the Army can sent a family, Savanah was good duty.  The oldest city in Georgia and located in the Southeastern side of Georgia it is rich in heritage and about 25 miles from the beach.  Not bad.

Well, one day Judy suggested we should go down and see them.  Let’s see…family, grits, history, and pralines (in case you don’t know they are a crisp or semi-crisp candy typically consisting of butter, brown sugar, and pecans. You need to try them.) Yup…sounds like a great idea.  We load up the van and off we go.  It’s about an eleven-hour drive and we broke it up into two days because we are not as young as we used to be and to us the journey is part of the adventure.

When we arrive in Savanah, there are the usual “big hellos” and “what’s happening?” Soon after we arrive, come the next two big questions—what are we going to eat and where do we want to go?  We decided to go to the historic downtown.  If you have never been to Savanah, it is hard to describe this special part of the city.  It is a series of parks, literally block after block, filled with trees, flowers, monuments, and fountains.  Oh, and there is a Five Guys Burgers and Fries nearby.  It can’t get any better. It’s like the Southern part of heaven.

After three or four blocks of strolling I decided it was time to sit down.  I wandered over to an empty park bench to sit a spell.  As I sometimes do, I lean back, locking my hands behind my head and just relaxing.  The birds are singing, the squirrels are playing, and life is good.  And then, it got better.  While I am sitting there doing my relaxing thing, my grandson Will, who was about four, comes over to the park bench and eyes his Papa. What he does next is recorded in a photograph and in my heart.

Will, with a bit of a struggle, climbs up and sits on the park bench.  He then gives me a look, raises his hands behind his head, locking his fingers.  He is imitating his Papa. He is doing what he sees me doing. Judy, with the keen eye of a great photographer and grandmother, snaps the picture.  It was only when we got home that we saw the true beauty of the picture.  Today, a copy sits on my desk in my home office, and it is indeed one of my treasures.

Will reminded me that day there are always people watching and looking and often imitating us.  Sometimes they are family, sometimes they are fellow church members, sometimes neighbors, sometimes even strangers.  But they are watching and looking to see what we are going to do, how we are going to react and then they do what we do. That might be the reason when one of Jesus’ disciples ran—then they all did. It might be why when one shouted “crucify Him,” they all did.  This picture makes me pause and ask, “What are my kids, my grandkids, my friends, the yet to be friends around me, seeing when they see me?”  What do they see at the park, in Wal-Mart and yes, on Facebook?  Hmmm.

The guy who wrote Hebrews says that we should consider—we should weigh carefully—how we may spur one another on toward love and good works.”  In other words, the things we do and say should cause others to do good—and not to do evil. We are to be beacons of light shining out into a dark, rough, and dangerous sea.  I guess I really love that picture because of the innocence of it all.  But what if, what if, that same picture showed me being hateful or rude.  What brings me joy would, and should, then bring tears.

Today is a new day.  I like new days.  New days say I get another chance.  Let’s use this day with the knowledge that people are watching and we get to show them the way to get it right—not wrong.  I know, it is a daunting task…but we have a great, big God pulling for us.  Just like I got to set an innocent example for Will, so Jesus has set a sterling example for us.  Just follow the leader and you can’t go wrong.  So, climb up on the bench, sit a spell and rest.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, friends, gratitude, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, travel

Southern Cuisine–the Real Deal

He says, “I am the Lord, and there is no other.” Isaiah 45:18b

I discovered the difference between the real deal and everything else.  My wife Judy and I traveled south to see family.  Since I am still working, she is usually our representative to our southern family.  She would make the circuit, sitting and talking and visiting, all of which is right up her alley.  But this time…things were different.  I decided it was time for me to make time to see my family and I am so glad that I did.  I was reminded of the value of family and in the process rediscovered the value of good southern cooking. We stayed with two of my sisters and then with one of Judy’s nephews and his wife.  At each place, queens of southern delights strutted their stuff, but it all came together one beautiful Thursday evening.

First, in Valdosta where she is from and where a bunch of her family lives, there is a family of restaurants that are excellent for two reasons.  First, they are all buffets and second, they all specialize in southern cooking.  The buffet is a spread of everything southern…fried chicken, ribs (both fried and smoked), fish, pork chops, chicken gizzards and livers, pot roast and the list goes on and on.  Then comes the vegetables…field peas, lima beans, baby lima beans, black-eyed peas, collard and turnip greens, cream corn, grits and…well, you get the idea.  Judy and I enjoyed it so much we went twice.

Well, that was all good but then came Thursday night.  Her family decided to have a mini family reunion of sorts.  Now just like my family, her family is blessed with many queens of southern cuisine.  I admit I just couldn’t wait to taste what was going to be brought.  About thirty relatives showed up and each family brought several dishes. Now imagine with me.  Take the list above and double it and you will have a fair idea of how much food was there.  Now, take what we had at the restaurant, which was very good, and give it a multiplication factor of at least two and maybe three and you begin to understand the Allen family feast.  It was beyond delicious—and not just a dish here or there but every dish.  I won’t even try to describe the deserts.  Wonderful southern food with a wonderful southern family and well, I sure was glad I didn’t miss it.

I did learn something through my southern food experience.  You see, I was very content with the restaurant version of southern heaven until I tasted the real deal and suddenly, I was reminded of the difference.  The real thing made in someone’s kitchen with loving hands and hearts made the restaurant version somewhat of a cheap imitation. Oh, it was good till I had the real thing and then there was no comparison. The real thing trumps anything else every time.

That truth is worth remembering.  There are a lot of imitations out there in the world and they will try and make you discontent with the real thing.  They will try and steal your heart out of a good marriage or make you discontent and leave relationships that have satisfied for years. Like so many of the commercials today, they wave their plastic happiness and try to convince you that their “something” is better.  Don’t believe it—the real deal is better than a plastic substitution no matter how good it looks.  And by the way, that is definitely true when it comes to religion and God.  Don’t ever be tempted to trade the practice of religion for a God who loves you so much He gave His Son to die for you. Like He said in His Book, “I am the Lord, there is no other.”

I am grateful for my trip south, and I am grateful for the opportunity to learn once again about the importance of what is real and what is second place.  Never be satisfied with something else when you can have what is real and never trade what is first for what is second.  It is always a bad deal.

So, if you are blessed to have some southern relatives and you visit with them, make sure to sit-down with them for supper.  Chances are you will discover your own spread of southern delights.  And remember to be content and grateful for the spread that God has set before you.  He is a good, good Father and, unlike religion, He loves you so, so much and no matter what, you know, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, Integrity, life, loving others, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials, USA

Disney Encounter: Standing Strong in Hard Times

I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:13

She stood against the wall in the crowded elevator.  On our trip with Disney cruise lines, there were two ways to go between decks.  You can take the elevator, or you can take the stairs.  Sometimes, maybe most times, my wife Judy and I would take the stairs.  With all the good food they served, every bit of exercise helped.  But sometimes, when we were on deck three and we were going to deck 12, we would take the elevator—and that is when I saw her.

She was probably about 45 and was using a cane. Her expression seemed to indicate that maybe just maybe she had a hard story.  Trust me, I don’t always do crazy things on elevators but this time I did.  I noticed that she was wearing a Nike shirt with the emblem for some sport, so I asked her, “So, I see you are wearing a sport’s shirt, so is that why you are using a cane?”  I know crazy, right? Sometimes I even surprise myself.  Well, what she said caught me totally off guard.  She said, “No, I was blown up in Somalia.” Ok, before I tell you what I said, let me say I meant it out of respect for her tenacity—her refusal to cave in to her circumstances.

Ok, now for what I said.  Out of my mouth came, “Wow…that is awesome.” Well, that didn’t come out right.  She replied, “Awesome…I almost died.”  Well, the elevator paused, and she was about to get off and I had about 30 seconds to explain what I meant, and I did and thankfully she fully understood. Well, the door closed but my unintentional insensitivity and my even greater respect for her service wouldn’t leave my mind.  I asked God for another chance to talk with her.  I didn’t have much hope since there were 3,000 people on the ship.  But…God honored my prayer.

Early the next morning, I was out on the top deck drinking coffee and telling God what a great job He did on the sunrise that day.  I glanced over and there, about 25 yards away, was a lady who looked like the lady.  She was heading back inside, and I almost didn’t act. What if it wasn’t her, what if I said the wrong thing again? Well, God quickly reminded me of my prayer, and I caught the lady right before she got on the elevator. It was her.

Well, I asked if she remembered me and she smiled (the smile that says, “how could I forget.”) I apologized again and she once again said it wasn’t necessary and then she told me her story. Turns out she was a Marine and was in a crowded public place doing some intelligence work when a mortar came in.  Another Marine who was with her, tried to protect her and instead pushed her right into the blast of the shell and its shrapnel. She was gravely wounded and spent too many months in rehab learning to do life again.  There’s much more to the story but the part, the Big Truth, that I want to leave with you is this—she didn’t give up and she didn’t allow it to stop her. She chose to move on.  So, she was medically discharged and though she was dealt a difficult life…like any good Marine she pressed on.

I really admired my new friend for that, and I am hoping I can learn from her. I am hoping I can remember that no matter what—we can be overcomers.  Let me encourage you to make Philippians 4:13 more than just a catchy verse in the Bible…make it your mantra.  It says, “I can do everything, through Christ, who strengthens me.” And do you know what?  We can because He can.  He is our enabling, powerful Friend who is always walking beside us.  Remember, no matter what, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne