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

Small Changes….Big Difference

Sell your possessions and give to those in need.” Luke 12:33

I could see them flashing a mile down the road. They were two senior adults—just two of the many special people I have met and known over the years.  These two folks had a special heart for giving and not just giving but giving so others could know the same God they did.  Though they gave generously the way others did they had a couple of other ways that were pretty special. And that is why it wasn’t uncommon to see them pulled off the road on a busy highway…flashers flashing.  I know it caused people to wonder.

On any given day, you could be driving down Highway 51 near Cobden, Illinois and see a nice, new Cadillac on the side of the road.  With their emergency flashers warning oncoming traffic of their presence, you might think that they were broke down and needed assistance but that wasn’t the case. They would be…picking up cans.  Yup…that’s right.  They would regularly, and I do mean regularly, go out on the highways and byways around Union County and gather cans to sell and recycle.  You might wonder why since usually folks’ pickup cans because they have a need. Some may have seen the Cadillac and thought them greedy but there was a different story in the making.  There was a need, but it wasn’t theirs…it was people all around the world who needed to hear about their Jesus.

You see, everything that these two collected when they sold their cans went to fund missions—telling people about Jesus. How about that?  They could, and did, write a check but this was their special way of giving.  Oh, but that wasn’t all.  Everywhere they went, they would be sure and keep their eyes…on the ground.  Yup, that’s right.  They were looking for change that people dropped and believe it or not…they found a lot.  Every year they would make a trip to California to see family.  They would stay for several weeks and would always come back with a story—and more money for missions.  It was not uncommon for them to find not a few dollars but more…a lot more.  And guess what?  Yup, that’s right…every dollar went to missions. They told me one time someone saw them either picking up cans or change in California and thinking they were needy…gave them twenty dollars. They explained, but the person insisted they keep the twenty—and share it around the world.

While their example can teach us many lessons there is one that deserves our attention today.  You see, they had learned that small things can add up to make a big difference. There is no telling how many thousands of dollars in cans and change they gathered to give away.  It was their special way, an unusual way, a unique way…to give. You see, small things can add up.  I read something the other day that was crazy.  Get ready.  The story said that the TSA, the folks that run security at the airports, find an amazing amount of change at the security checkpoints.  You know the drill; people have to empty their pockets to go through security and apparently a lot of folks drop their change on the floor or leave it in the bins and it all adds up. “How much?” you ask?  Well, in 2019 the TSA collected a whopping $900,000 in change. You read that right—$900,000. That is just crazy amazing.

In case you are wondering, theirs doesn’t go to missions but they do have to report to Congress how it is used.  Usually, it is something mundane like buying supplies.  How boring. While I am impressed by the amount, I am much more impressed by the heart and soul of two seniors who picked up cans and change to make a difference in the hearts and lives of people everywhere.  That, Grits family, is pretty noble and pretty amazing.

So, what can we do to make a difference in the lives of people?  Now this story happens to be about two Jesus people but making a difference isn’t limited to people who follow Jesus.  We all can make a difference.  Hey, why not find a way, even if it is small and simple, and start making an impact in your world?  Jesus told a guy in the New Testament part of the Bible who had a lot of stuff, “Sell your possessions and give to those in need.” Sounds like yard sale time to me!  Remember, the smallest thing can be made big in the hands of God. Need some ideas? Wondering how? Just ask and the God of Generosity will fill in the blanks.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

Z-Pack and the Man Cold

Always be joyful. Never stop praying.  Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus. 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

They call it a z-pack.  It is called that because nobody can pronounce azithromycin.  Whatever it is called it–it works.  You know the story.  You are humming along, life is good and then you throat feels a little scratchy, your nose is a little stuffy and before long you feel awful.

Now let me explain awful.  If you are a man that means it is pretty much terminal.  It is a matter of minutes before the end comes.  Someone call 911.  If you are a woman, it means that life just became a little more challenging but hey people are counting on you, so you will push through.

Man or woman–terminal or not–you will probably call and make an appointment to see the doctor.  He will determine, much to the man’s surprise, that it is not terminal.  It is an upper respiratory infection.  Then he may prescribe our friend azithromycin or a z-pack.

A z-pack is a course of five pills, often two are taken the first day and one per day for the next three.  If you are a man, you take the first two and go to bed.  If you are woman, and in in particular a mother, you take the first two and go on with life.  The good news everybody generally survives.

I find too often in life this happens to me on another level. I am humming along, and life is good.  The mild speed bumps and occasional potholes of life are navigated with little or no trouble.  But then it happens. The smallest of infractions and I find myself going off–losing it.  Something doesn’t go just according to plan, and I am seething.  I don’t get my way and so everyone better stay out of my way. I’’ve been infected.

No doctor is needed for this one.  It is called selfish-itis.  Let me say that again…selfish–itis.  Yup…for some reason it all becomes about me–or you.  While it’s caused by several things it often find’s it’s source in a little virus called “why me.”  I mean I understand why the neighbor deserves bad things; he is mean as a snake.  And my brother-in-law hasn’t worked for months.  Of course, then there is Cousin Eddie, never mind, we won’t even go there.

Well, the good news is there’s a z-pack for it and it is fast and effective.  Take three “pills” and before long you will be humming again.  The z-pack is found in 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 and consists of three powerful truths that will kick the “selfish-itis” bug in no time.  Here’s the z-pack. “Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances.” There you go–be joyful, pray always and be thankful.”  Bye-bye blues and hello cancel the 911 call. Three simple truths, three simple practices.

A while back I got ahold of a great definition for Biblical joy.  It is “a deep sense of inner well-being based on faith in God and trust in His sovereign will.”  Now that’s powerful. Boom.  It is what we close everyday with, “He’s got this.”  It’s true and He does.

Praying always is simply like breathing.  It becomes second nature and an essential part of life.  You don’t even need your knees to pray.  You don’t need to close your eyes–especially if you are driving.  It is a whisper to God as needed, when needed.  And it works.

The last one is gratitude.  It is learning to be thankful for the smallest detail in your life.  News flash–God is a God of the details.  That little deal you are concerned about is not little to Him.  He loves His kids and wants them to know He will be there.  Now that doesn’t mean you get every toy in the toy store.  It does mean that He will be there whenever, forever.

The last part of verse 18 is huge.  It says, “For this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.”  He wants you to do this not for three days but every day.  He wants you to be fulfilled and at rest and these simple truths will put you on the right road.

So, men, put on your big boy socks and push on.  Ladies–remember we men struggle with the small things, so be sure and show a little mercy when we are terminal–or at least think we are.  God does and He does it not only for the men but for all of us.  He invites us to crawl up in His lap and rest in Him.  And listen close, He’s whispering, “I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in birthday, Christmas, Family, friends, gratitude, life, love, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Keep What You Treasure

You don’t love me or each other as you did at first! Look how far you have fallen! Turn back to me and do the works you did at first.” Revelation 2:4-5

I was so excited…until I wasn’t.  Every new, store-bought toy was cause for big excitement at 6008 Carlton Road.  Like I’ve said before there were plenty of things laying around that a kid like me could turn into a toy. Sticks became guns and China berries became bullets.  In my eight-year-old world, a trip into the woods was as good as a trip to Africa.  But let’s be honest.  Nothing could quite beat a store-bought toy.

New toys usually showed up two times a year.  First, of course, was Christmas.  I would anxiously wait for the wish books to show up in the mail so I could start wishing.  Sometimes there were trips to the department stores downtown to window shop the trains and planes that were there on display. I remember letters to Santa, and to Momma and Daddy just in case he wasn’t available.  I would state my case and then wait for the big morning and though we never got everything we want—what we got was more than enough.

The other time that store bought toys came to 6008 was on our birthdays.  As I wrote those words, I am still amazed at how good my parents were to us…willing to do whatever it took to give us a Merry Christmas and a Happy Birthday.  I remember too that a lot of years there was a birthday party in the plans and that multiplied the gifts and the memories.  It was just all good.  In the days that followed Christmas and January 6 (my birthday and the original Christmas Day before some Pope changed it) I would play and play with those new toys…until I didn’t.

There always came a time when I got too rough and it broke, or I got bored as the newness wore off, or I just moved on to something else…but it always happened.  The thing I thought I couldn’t live without became a discarded memory.  One of my favorite Christmas toys was a Daisy double-barrel BB gun. I loved that gun and if I had taken care of it, today it would be very valuable.  Well, I didn’t.  I learned at my brother’s funeral that apparently his son and my nephew claimed it after I had discarded it.  Where it went from there is anybody’s guess.

The truth is we are a fickle bunch.  We soon enough grow tired of whatever is our current fancy and before long what was yesterday’s treasure is today’s trash.  Rarely do we care for things the way we should. While it is true of toys, unfortunately, it is also true of the more important things in life.  We give our word about something but find it only lasts while it is convenient.  We make vows to love someone “till death do us part” and too often rewrite the deal to read, “till I change my mind.”  We build our character and then trade it to save face.  We often sell the truth so we can buy a lie for the same reason—convenience or pride.

It is amazing how quick we grow tired of the toys, people, and values in our life.  We say we value this or that but as soon as this or that becomes difficult or inconvenient, well, what once mattered suddenly doesn’t anymore.  So, what should we do?  Good question.  I believe the root of the answer lies in remembering. Someone once said before you quit you need to remember why you started in the first place.  That’s good.  And before we discard, something or someone, we need to remember what caused us to make the commitment in the first place.

In the book of the Revelation, near the end of the Bible, Jesus spoke and said this, “You don’t love me or each other as you did at first! Look how far you have fallen! Turn back to me and do the works you did at first.” Those are powerful words…words that we should pay attention to.  If we do, perhaps, we will be slower to throw away, to walk away, or run away from the things that matter…what we used to value.  The really good news is that the God who created us never, ever grows tired of us.  We are as precious to Him as the first day we met Him.  He loves us so much and wants to help us.  In other words, as always, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

My Simple Life

So don’t worry about these things, saying, ‘What will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear?’” Matthew 6:31

It was just simpler back then. I got up this morning with a little (or maybe a lot) of coffee, a spot of the Weather Channel, and some Jesus.  Then, I just sat and thought for a while.  On the television was a channel from YouTube that shows live camera feeds from all over the Northeast, and I was just amazed how much it looked like Europe…another time and another place. Then, I thought about my day.  I’m figuring out that each day is His day as He is the maker, the crafter of each one.  I’m also learning that since He owns everything that makes me a steward of the next 24 hours and the events and circumstances He has planned.

Mainly, there is a sermon to polish for Sunday and a funeral to craft for Saturday.  But mainly I’m just waiting to see what is on His mind and honestly, sometimes that is simple and sometimes it is complex.  Regardless, I know it is His plan and it is one that He has determined that will bring good into my life and hopefully some glory to Him.  With all that said, I have to admit there are times that I long for times when things were simpler as in less complex.  While that has happened and surely will happen again, when I was about eight, it was the norm.

When I was eight, I was concerned about very little.  Momma and Daddy were still healthy and every morning there was something for breakfast, something for lunch and something for supper.  There were delicacies like fried potato sandwiches and peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches and if we were short on peanut butter we would just go with the mayonnaise. After breakfast though I would head out to the yard and just do…something.  There were occasional chores like picking up the yard pulling weeds but generally the day was mine. I hadn’t figured the God part out yet.

Because toys, at least the kind you buy at a store, were in short supply, I would go into the junk room—a small room with its own outside entrance and filled with stuff—and see what caught my eye.  There was always something that with a little imagination could become a source of entertainment. First, and one of my favorites, was a piece of chain, usually about six feet long.  You see, our driveway wasn’t paved, that was something rich people had, so it was like a giant sand box.  I found out you could take that piece of chain and drag it behind you, and it became a train. I would watch as the sand flowed in and around the links of the chain leaving a perfect track in the rear.  A chain became a train—imagine that.

In certain times of the year, North Florida—well really the whole state, I guess—was inundated with “love bugs.” They were everywhere and would splat on windshields and clog radiators as cars zoomed down the highway.  They also seemed to love a parked car.  When I would go outside looking for that day’s adventure, they would be all over Daddy’s 1961, light blue, Plymouth station-wagon and whether they knew it or not—they were a target.  I would search the yard and drawers in the kitchen for rubber bands discarded from newspapers, string them together and go hunting.  Stretching them back, I would take aim and one by one pick them off of Daddy’s car.  This could go on for a long while.  I thought I was doing Daddy a favor but turns out the bug’s innards could eat a car’s paint right off. Oops.

While each day was different, each day was simple.  Each day was consistent…little to worry about and an opportunity for fun.  And while that kind of simplicity has long since passed there is another for today.  Today too can be a day with little to worry about and dare I say it, an opportunity for fun.  You see, if you are a Jesus follower, He really wants to take care of the worry part.  In fact, He just flat-out tells us not to worry because if God can take care of the birds…He can take care of us too.  How about that? And the fun part?  Well, that is up to us.  We simply need to learn, to remember what that means and how to do it.  My wife Judy tells me frequently that we need to learn how to celebrate, and she is right, but we also need to relearn how to just have fun.  It probably involves letting go and letting Him so our hands and hearts will be free to be free.

So, what are you worrying about today? What has you bound up like a too tight pair of shoes?  What are you going to do today that is fun?  Now don’t tell me you don’t have time (that is simply a matter of choice) or the money—chain and rubber bands are cheap—smile.  Today, be brave enough to do something different—to make a change. Let it go and let Him.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

My God-Father

And I will be your Father, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.” 2 Corinthians 6:18

Well, it was just a thought…but it was a good one.  The other day I was chatting with someone and the topic of having or being a godfather popped into the conversation.  I think the person said they had one or was one…I’m not really sure.  You see, I am a Baptist, and I am pretty sure that is not really a Baptist thing.  I don’t think there is a rule against it, but I do know it is rarely brought up.  I’ve been pastoring for forty years, and I don’t remember it coming up more than a couple of times…not counting the times when we were talking about the movie.

All of this kind of got me thinking about what does a godfather do.  I mean just in case someone asked me to be one, I thought I needed to be ready.  According to dictionary.com, “A godparent is a person who has pledged to help with the upbringing of a child, especially in a religious way. In some denominations of Christianity, when a child is baptized, they are sponsored by (usually two) adults who pledge to help in this way.” Well, there you go.

If you take the definition from dictionary.com, it actually sounds like a pretty good idea. We all know that when our first baby comes along, we discover the little boy or girl doesn’t come with an owner’s manual.  It turns out you are pretty much on your own, so a little help is a great idea.  Someone said, “It take a village to raise a child” and there is a lot of truth in that.  I know that my Momma would have tweaked that just a little—like this boy needs a whole continent.

I didn’t see it in the definition, but I bet somewhere in the godfather thing is the idea that the chosen one must buy some really cool birthday and Christmas gifts.  It just seems logical. Regardless I think this is not something that should be taken on lightly—if you really are going to do the job.

So back to the beginning.  We are chatting about godfathers, and it was one of those times that I thought something and said something that was almost, but not quite profound.  I said, “But who needs a godfather if you can have a Father who is God.”  Now isn’t that almost profound? You see, it is always nice to have some flesh and bones help you along but to have the Creator of the whole show as your Father…that is a horse of a different color.  And, even when godfathers have all the good intentions in the world, they might just come up short—but Creator God never does.

When I think about the fact that God is my Father, that He is never ashamed to call me His, that He loves me and likes me unconditionally—well, that is amazing. And when I think that He will never, ever come up short, that’s when it goes right off the chart.  The Bible says that my God-Father not only knows the cattle on a thousand hills but He owns the hills too.  My God-Father can take on the biggest monsters and win every time.  Oh, and He is never too busy, never too tired, and never changes His mind.  All of that and so much more is what caused me to say, “Who needs a godfather if you can have a Father who is God.”

I guess it is the parents who choose the godfather but when it comes to my God-Father…well He chose me, and He wants to choose you too.  My God-Father plays no favorites and invites anyone and everyone to be a part of His family.  All we must do is believe, to have faith, turn away from our old messed up life and choose to follow Him.  That’s it.  I don’t know about you but I’m glad I can call God, Father, and I’m so glad He calls me, son.  So, if you are looking for a godfather, there are plenty of good choices and just for the record that is a nice thing to do.  But if you are looking for a God-Father, there is only One and He can’t wait to help you do life.  He’s just waiting to let you know that this time and every time “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 friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, travel, Trials

I Can’t Hear You

But Peter said, “I don’t have silver or gold, but what I do have, I give you: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, get up and walk!” Acts 3:6 (CSB)

I can’t hear you.  A friend and I were standing on the shores of an island in Lake Victoria, Uganda, East Africa.  He was telling a Jesus story to a man and trying to determine if he knew Jesus.  While he was sharing another man walked up and began to listen.  At the end of the story, we asked a couple of questions.  The first man indicated that he knew this Jesus.  The other did not.  And he couldn’t hear.

Let me explain.  It wasn’t that he had a hearing problem.  His ears were working quite well.  It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand.  Our friend understood English and when we hit a bump our translator would jump in and help.  But he couldn’t hear.  Then he explained the problem.  He said something like, “I can’t hear about this Jesus because my stomach is so hungry.”

Now hunger is not usually a big issue in Uganda.  While the food may not be the best nutritionally it is usually sufficient in quantity.  Our friend was one of the exceptions.  For whatever reason he hadn’t eaten that day or maybe the day before.  The growling of his stomach was blocking his heart from hearing the message.  We tried to explain that while we may hunger here, God had a place in heaven where no one would be hungry. I decided to tell him another story from the Bible.

I told him the story of Peter and John entering the temple.  You can read it in Acts 3:1-10. It goes something like this. There was a crippled man there who made a living begging.  When he saw Peter and John, he thought they could help.  He looked up expectedly and perhaps even lifted his hand to receive a coin or two.  While his hand remained empty, he got something more than a coin.  Peter said, “We don’t have silver or gold but what we do have we will give you.  In the name of Jesus of Nazareth rise up and walk.”

As Peter reached his hand down and the man reached up, his ankles received healing strength and he stood and walked into the temple.  I smugly smiled my preacher smile.  The perfect story.  The perfect truth. Eternal is better than temporary. Surely my friends would see it, and everyone would go their way happy.  Only it didn’t happen.

I asked him “So what is better a few coins now or something that can change your life forever?”  I, of course, expected him to agree that the gift of eternal life is certainly more and better than a few coins or a quick meal.  His answer caught me totally off guard. He replied, “A few coins or some food.”  What?  I couldn’t believe what he was saying.  Surely, he understood.  Surely, I had made the story clear.

Then he said it.  “Heaven is good, but I am hungry now. I need food now.”  Well, sadly, he wandered off.  Still hungry.  Still lost. My friend continued to share with the first man but my heart was heavy and my mind on the other man.  Suddenly, I saw him again standing a few yards away. It was then I heard the Whisperer whisper.  It was short and simple.  “Give him food” the Whisperer said.  I had totally forgotten that in my backpack I had some tuna, chips, crackers for my own lunch.  I dug several items from my bag, as did my friend.

I walked over to the man and said, “This isn’t much but I hope it will quieten your stomach so you can hear Jesus.” He quickly took the food and left. There’s no bow on the package, no happily ever after ending, no prayer to receive Jesus.  But I know two things. I know he knew we cared, and I know he heard the truth and this time that had to be enough.  Maybe the seed would sprout later…only eternity will tell.

I learned a couple of things that day.  I learned that sometimes before we can share the Good News of the Gospel with a person, we need to touch them in a real tangible way.  A casual God bless you and a pat on the back doesn’t do much for an anxious soul or a hungry stomach.  We must talk Jesus, we must share Jesus, but we must be Jesus.  Someone said, “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.”

In these crazy, troubling times people need more than a sermon—they need to know we care.  How do we do that?  That’s the second thing I learned.  We must listen for the Whisperer.  We need to be sensitive to His gentle nudges. We must still our own souls and hearts if we are to hear His gentle voice. These days call for new ways…different ways.

So, as you walk about life, keep your eyes open, your heart still and watch in wonder at what God can do through you.  You don’t have to be in Africa to be on mission.  That can happen, must happen right here, right now.  And in these days of fear and frustration people are more ready to hear about God than ever before.  What a privilege to be entrusted with God’s work.  Up for the challenge?  God believes so.  Remember, He’s really big on you.  So, rest in Him.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, priorities, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, wisdom

The Captain and the Wind

Oh, Lord God! You Yourself made the heavens and earth by Your great power and with Your outstretched arm. Nothing is too difficult for You!” Jeremiah 32:17

It was the gift of a lifetime. It was 1997 and we were experiencing the gift of a lifetime—the trip of a lifetime. The church where we pastored had honored us with a massive trip to the Holy Land in celebration of our tenth anniversary as their pastor.  I’ve shared some of those incredible times once or twice before in Grits. Recently though I was reminded of a part of the trip that was a small part of a big story and teaches a powerful lesson about us and God.

After a quick visit to Greece and a long visit to the Holy Land, we found ourselves in the land of Pharaohs.  How incredible to stand where the children of Israel once slaved and worked.  How amazing to stand where Moses stood as he spoke for the great, “I AM,” and spoke the words on behalf of God, “Let My people go.”  The pyramids, the great sphinx, the museums, the history all were breathtaking and then there was—the Nile.

Though my wife Judy and I have now seen and been on the Nile several times…back then it was the first time…and there’s nothing like the first time.  As part of our trip, we took a day trip on this ancient and mighty river.  There were all kinds of vessels on the river that day from small to very large, from very old to newer and from those powered by sails and those powered by massive engines.

Ours was powered by diesel.  As we prepared to leave the port, the captain of the vessel fired up the engines and soon we were underway.  With the powerful engine, the vessel went in the direction and speed that the captain desired.  It was impressive but there was something else there on the river that was equally so.  All around us were boats not powered by gas or diesel but by the wind.  Silently and gracefully, they cut through the water…not as fast as others but somehow more impressive…more desirable.

What was it that was so attractive?  It was the fact that they did not depend on their own power—they depended on a power outside of themselves—bigger than themselves.  They moved at a pace and the whim of the wind. Oh, there was a human hand on the rudder and there was skill in the positioning of the sail but still it was the wind that moved the boat. And, unlike our vessel, the captain and crew never had to worry about breaking down or running out of fuel.  And somehow, that just seemed better…richer.

I read a devotion by a guy named Aussie Dave (you have to love that name) that pointed out this vast difference.  And I learned that it wasn’t about boats at all…it was about us…and our lives…and how we choose to live our lives.  Oh, we can motor along through life, seemingly controlling our fate, our direction, our speed, and all that might work, will work, until the engine breaks down or we run out of fuel. And, trust me, there will be a time in life when both will happen and it is just about then we will realize the value of trusting something bigger, Someone bigger, with our journey. That, of course, is Creator God—the One who created it all—including the wind.

If I’m guessing right, a lot of us wrestle with letting the Creator of the wind propel our vessels…our lives.  We simply want to be in charge…to determine the direction and details of our trip but remember this.  Along the shores of Nile were abandoned vessels…broken down and wore down and long abandoned. And while there may have been a few sailing vessels along that same shore, they were always a candidate to be rebuilt—to be redeemed and that too is the story of those who trust in a Captain that made it all. With this Captain…nothing is impossible.

Judy and I will never forget that journey or the people who made it possible. It was a generous and sacrificial gift given from our friend’s hearts.  We will also never forget the generous and sacrificial gift of our Dearest Daddy who makes life, our lives, so rich and purposeful and our eternity so…well, sometimes there just aren’t words.  I hope you have chosen God as your Captain and I hope you will pause even now and listen.  Even when the wind goes still and your progress so slow, listen carefully as the Whisperer whispers, “I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

A Grits Love Story

Then the Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is just right for him.” Genesis 2:18

It happened just like that. I love grits…a lot.  I know some of you have no idea what grits are and have never tried them.  If you are from the North, I understand. If you are from the South, well, that’s just inexcusable. The problem with grits is that people want to mess with them by adding things like sugar and milk. Listen…you don’t mess with Texas, and you don’t mess with grits. When you add those two things to grits it changes their DNA and whatever it becomes is no longer grits.  It may be the same consistency, but sugar and milk rob grits of their heart and soul.

There are things you can add to grits.  The first three things on the list are salt, pepper and butter.  Grits were meant to be seasoned so don’t think a sprinkle of this, or a dash of that will get the job done.  You need to grab the saltshaker and get serious and do the same thing with the pepper.  Someone will say that salt is bad for your blood pressure.  Well, some things are worth the sacrifice.  The other things that bring grits to life are bacon, cheese and amazingly, shrimp. I’m telling you…grits are not the breakfast of champions…grits are the champion of breakfast.  If you learn to eat them right…you will never go back and the only question you will ask is, “Why did it take me so long?

I should have asked that question sooner in another season of my life. It was late summer of 1974 and I was coming out of a relationship that had gone on way too long. It was just time for it to end and it did.  I was in the Air Force and trust me an Air Force base nine miles from town in South Georgia can be a lonely place.  Imagine a bowl of grits without the salt, pepper, and butter and that was me. And then on a Wednesday night I decided to go to a local church.  Now I had done church all of my life, but walking into a strange church, by myself, on a Wednesday night, was not in my comfort zone.  But this bowl of grits needed some seasoning. So, I went hoping I would meet someone who might add some seasoning to my life.  And, just like that, it happened.

That night, I walked in the side door of the church and there was a small group of young ladies standing by the piano.  One, and only one, caught my eye.  Her name was Judy Allen, and that night was the beginning of a love story that has now stretched into a 46-year adventure of life and love.  I guess she was a little too young and maybe I was a little too old, but it was a different time and the bottom line…we fell in love.  That Georgia peach stole my heart and has never given it back.  I never thought of it this way, but I guess grits and peaches go together after all.

Through the decades and years, we have journeyed together…sometimes across town and sometimes across the world.  We built a legacy together that includes our three daughters, their husbands, and our grandkids…all eight of them. We first served our country together as an Air Force family and then served our God as a team—side by side in four different churches over 39 years. At each stop, I was the grits, and she was the seasoning.  She was and is a gifted servant in her own right, but she was also the salt, pepper, and butter that made me a better bowl of grits, a better man…a better pastor. I fully understand what God meant when He said in Genesis, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is just right for him.” Well, thank you God for that one.

Grits (what I write not the ones you eat) is just one more example of her seasoning me—encouraging me.  She had been nudging me for years to write and I simply wouldn’t listen.  And then COVID came along and on a whim, I wrote a very short story and posted it and almost a year later my fingers are still mashing keys.  What you may not know is that Judy once again was there to season my frail attempts.  She developed the blog and the Facebook page, and she proofs my words then designs the graphics.  She adds flavor to Grits—and our life and our ministry.

So, on purpose and without apology, let me tell her and you, just how much I love her and how grateful I am for the seasonings she has brought to my life.  There are two things I know.  First, I can’t imagine what life would have been if I hadn’t gone to church that night.  See, you oughta go to church!  But second, I can’t imagine what life would have been if this particular someone, by God’s amazing grace, hadn’t walked with me all these years. It seemed she always knew just how much salt, how much pepper and how much butter to add to this ole bowl of grits…and I love her for it.

So, there you go.  It’s a grits love story.  If you’ve tried grits (the kind you eat…not the ones you’re reading) and didn’t like them…you probably just didn’t have them seasoned right.  You might want to give them another try. And if you have someone in your life that, honestly, just feels a little bland, like grits without the good stuff, don’t give up on them.  Go ahead and be the seasoning in their life. You might be amazed, just like I was, how a little salt, a little pepper, and some butter can make a bowl of ground corn taste amazingly good. Oh, and then, don’t forget to also thank God because He’s the One who made it all possible anyway.  I’ve learned, and I am still learning, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Crash! Grind! Bummer.

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love.” Romans 8:38 (NLT)

It happened just like that.  I was new to the game…too new to the game.  I had had my driver’s license just a few weeks or at most a couple of months.  I can honestly say I wasn’t one of those cocky kid drivers, in fact I was probably scared to death. I had a job at a Food Fair a fair distance from where we lived at 6008 Carlton Road, and someone had to take me to work. Then my Daddy did it. He trusted me. One day he said that I could take the car and drive myself to work. They weren’t going anywhere, and it would save them from going and coming and coming and going.  I couldn’t believe it.

I remember the first time I carefully backed out of the driveway heading toward Ricker Road.  That day, and for several other days, things went well.  Again, I was careful, I didn’t break the rules and I wasn’t a speeder. Of course, our 1961 Plymouth station wagon wasn’t exactly a race car anyway.  There and back, I went, and all was well…until it wasn’t. One day, like several other days, I was going to drive to work.  Daddy car-pooled and wasn’t home yet.  I backed out of the driveway like every time before and headed for Ricker Road just like every time before…but it wasn’t like every time before.

Apparently, I had opened the back door on the driver’s seat to put something in the backseat and didn’t close the door all the way. As I pressed the gas pedal, the rear door swung open and that is when Mr. Inexperience took over. I heard the road noise, look over my shoulder and saw that the door was open. Well, instead of stopping and closing the door I tried to turn and reach over my shoulder to close the door.  When I turned and reached, I accidentally turned the wheel and, gulp, I ran right into—or actually over—one of our neighbors’ mailboxes. Crunch, grind, bummer.

I hit the brakes and sat there in total shock.  The mailbox was one of those that kinda sat on a little arm and that little arm had hit my windshield and cracked it.  It seems the mirror took a direct hit too. I was so afraid, and I didn’t know what to do…so I ran.  Yup, I was a hit and run driver, but I didn’t drive away…I ran away leaving the car running, my driver’s door open and the mailbox lying dead on the side of the road.

Since I hadn’t made it very far, our house was just a few dozen yards down the road, and I ran all the way. I ran into the kitchen and right into my Momma’s arms. She wanted to know what had happened and the best I could I explained it and then she asked where the car was and the best I could I explained that too. We went back to the car and brought it home and I’m sure Momma and I made a trip to the neighbor’s front door to explain what happened.

Let me tell you what didn’t happen.  Though I was certain it had—the world didn’t come to an end.  After a short while, Daddy came home, and I told him what had happened.  He wasn’t happy but he didn’t disown me…after all I was his son…before and after the accident.  I don’t believe there was any punishment either, but I am sure there was some instruction about how to close a door when the car is moving. “Stop. Close door.”  I also imagine there was some instruction about not leaving the scene of an accident.  And the neighbor…I simply don’t remember but I guess he didn’t press charges. Smile.

I’m sure my little accident cost my Daddy and Momma more than they could afford…even without repairing the mailbox.  I am sure it was money that could have been better used paying an electric bill or buying groceries for our “not too small” family.  But my best memory of all was the fact that Daddy and Momma loved me regardless and anyway.  Oh, I guess you could say it was because I was the baby of the family and their favorite (smile) but the truth is love ruled the day that day.

Looking back, I realize that was one of those times when my Daddy reminded me of my Dearest Daddy…my Heavenly Daddy. My Daddy could have extended wrath, but He extended grace and love—just like my Dearest Daddy…my Heavenly Daddy. I think I learned that day that my Daddy wasn’t someone to run from but to run to—just like my Dearest Daddy…my Heavenly Daddy. Paul, the one in the Bible, said that nothing can ever separate us from the One who loves us most.  How about that?  We have a Dearest Daddy…a Heavenly Daddy that is always there and always willing to whisper, “I’ve got that.”  Bro. Dewayne