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

Mary Sue & the Moon

The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display His craftsmanship.  Day after day they continue to speak; night after night they make Him known.” Psalm 19:1-2

It was an early start to a long day.  I was up early, which is pretty normal, but on that day a special member of our church was having surgery. Mary Sue, not her real name, lives in a group home and we have the privilege of having her as a part of our church tribe.  In a word, she is a blessing.  Her smile and sweet demeanor make every encounter a pleasure.  Well, Mary Sue, had an issue in her neck that needed to be fixed so surgery was required, and I wanted to be there to pray for her before she went back.  As I left my driveway that early March morning and turned west, I saw it. There, hanging in the predawn morning was a beautiful, almost full moon.  It wasn’t perfect…that would happen in a day or so, but it was beautiful.

As I drove the miles to the town where the surgery was being performed, almost due west, mile after mile, the moon continued to amaze me.  It was a soft orange color, and in the clear sky, nothing obstructed its beauty. It seemed to speak in soft tones of the majesty of the One who had hung it there.  As I looked, I couldn’t help but notice its slightly oblong shape though that in no way distracted from its beauty.  And then I thought about how we humans to various degrees are like that moon—not perfect but each of us created in the image of the Creator.  Each one of us, dare I say it, a masterpiece.

Well, actually I can say it because He already did.  In the letter that Paul wrote to a church in Ephesus and that now part of the New Testament part of the Bible, he wrote, “We are God’s masterpiece…” And that reminded of Mary Sue.  Some would say that she was flawed but God would beg to differ.  He would say that Mary Sue was one of His finest works.  He would point out her kind and gentle heart. He would revel in her simple smile and laugh. He would share how she was like that March moon, filled with breathtaking, eye-popping joy.  And, of course, He would be right.

Well, believe it or not, the evening of that same day, I stepped outdoors, and that same moon was back. In the course of just 13 hours, it had set and risen but now it was for all intents and purposes, perfect. It was amazing how much had changed in such a short time. The color was less vivid but the was now full and round—shaped by the hand of the Creator to a more perfect form.  And the good news is what He does for moons—well, He does for us too. One day, all the imperfections of this world will be a thing of the past. You just wait and see. Somewhere out there, there is a grand opening where the Creator says, “I’ve made all things new.”

Let me encourage you not to be discouraged about today’s imperfections—they are all temporary.  For now society looks at the Mary Sue’s in the world and sees flaws but there is Someone who sees perfection and that is the One who matters. I know it is hard to believe but He would like for you to get to know Him better. The Bible even talks about knowing Him as “Abba Father,” or Dearest Daddy and that happens not because we decide to be better, no, it happens when we decide to believe. That’s called faith—faith in His Son Jesus—who He is and what He did. Go ahead, check it out—it’s an amazing story.

Well, all that is good news for today but just wait and see what He has planned for the future. Just like that imperfectly round moon changed, so will the future. Don’t be frustrated, don’t be discouraged…there is a much better day coming.  They said the moon was going to be perfect in a day or so. Well, what I saw that morning, already was and what I see every time I see Mary Sue is too. Oh, and what God sees in His kids—yup, masterpieces.  He loves you, you know, and nothing is going to change that.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

What’s in a Name?

She will give birth to a Son, and you are to give Him the name Jesus, because He will save His people from their sins.” Matthew 1:21

Satan.  I’m sure it sounded logical at the time. Everybody needs a dog.  Now I know that is a generalization, but the fact is dogs can add a lot to life.  Sometimes that “lot” is good and sometimes not so much.  The bottom line is that dogs are kinda like people.  They are all different, they all have different personalities, and they all have different names.

When I was growing up, I can remember three outdoor dogs that we had.  Momma and Daddy had an indoor dog named Penny. She was a, uh, well, overweight chihuahua mix and was pretty much the queen bee of the house.  But through the years that I remember we had three other dogs and all three were as different as night and day. The first one had a very unusual name.

Now, first remember these were real outdoor dogs.  We are talking their dog food was whatever scraps were left over from dinner and they rarely, very rarely had a bath.  So regardless of what adjectives I use to describe them, you would never find them at a dog show.  The first one was a beautiful, red, long hair, Irish setter.  I’m not sure where we got him, but I can assure you he was free.  We definitely did not pay for dogs.  Besides the fact that this dog was really pretty, his name set him apart.  His name was, wait for it, Satan.  Yes, folks, we actually had a dog named Satan.  Even as I type this, I am saying, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”  But…I am not.

Satan, the dog—not the king of evil—didn’t get his name from his behavior but rather from his red coat.  You know how we like to dress Satan (the king of evil not the dog) in red? Well, I guess Momma and Daddy decided it seemed appropriate.  I know when I am introduced to someone, sometimes I hear their name and say, “Well, he or she looks like a Judy or a Sam.  Well, Satan, the dog, with his red coat fit the bill.  What a crazy name for a dog.

The second dog that holds a spot in my dog hall of fame was a beagle named Sally.  Now Sally, I think, is a kinda happy name.  I have a hard time imagining a stern-faced Sally though I am sure there are plenty out there.  Well, Sally, the dog, had a bubbly personality and had the unique ability, wait for it, to smile.  Now, as Jerry Clower the comedian, used to say, “if I am lying, I am dying.”  You could walk up to ole Sally and give her a greeting and she would turn her upper lip right up and smile at you.  Bring her supper and up the lip would go.  She was a nice contrast, as you can imagine, to, uh, Satan (not the king of evil but the dog.)

The third and final dog that fills my memory of dogs in my growing up years was a rough and tumble, short legged, who knows what breed or breeds, dog we named, Ruff. Our dog Ruff didn’t stand out with a shiny red coat, nor could he smile.  He was just Ruff. If he was a human, he probably would have driven a big Harley hog, wore a leather jacket, and smoked cigarettes.  He was rough.  He may have had small dog syndrome because truthfully, he was short and stocky.  But, regardless, he was a good dog, and he was loyal.  He ruled the backyard and protected us from all the bad guys.

Three dogs, three distinct personalities and characteristics and three names that kinda, sorta, fit them.  Back in the old days of the Bible, names were a really big deal. You would name your son or daughter based on your hopes and dreams for them.  Sometimes it worked out…and sometimes, well, it didn’t.  I know when Joseph learned that Mary was going to have Jesus, he had some inside help on the name.  I mean an angel shows up and says, “Hey, Mary is going to have a baby and you are to name Him Jesus because He is going to save the world.” Now that is one important name.

And guess what?  That is exactly what He did.  His destiny was to die on a Roman cross to pay for the sins of the whole world—mine and yours and well, everybody’s.  When you hear the name of Jesus—think Savior because that is what He is.  His name is special, very special, and is one that should not, ever, be thrown around lightly.

Guess what? God likes to give names to His kids too.  In the last book of the Bible, it says that God will give us a new name written on a white stone and no one will understand the name but the one who gets it.  Until then, well, He just calls us son or daughter. I like that.  And as His son or daughter, we have the assurance that no matter what comes our way, we can count on Him.  We can know for sure, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

Happy Birthday Grits!

Jesus always used stories and illustrations like these when speaking to the crowds.” Matthew 13:34

Well – what an adventure!  It was a Friday morning in March of 2020 and the beginning of the COVID pandemic that caused me to sit down one morning and write a short post on Facebook. I intended it to be a one and done deal and was simply meant to be an encouragement. I wrote it and posted it…and then, something happened.  For whatever reason it touched a chord with people who followed my Facebook page and many readers responded.  And that is how Grits with Grace was born.

We made a permanent home for Grits in May of 2020 on WordPress with a new address, www.gritswithgrace.com . The website archives all the stories and has a great search engine if you are looking for a particular subject. It also has some valuable statistics…that remind us how the God’s Word never comes back void. As of March 20, 2022, the website has 361 followers (people who currently follow our site), 94 email subscribers (email every time blog is posted) and 1,995 followers on Facebook. Wow!

We find it very exciting that the top five countries following us in 2021 (12 months) are: USA (7,242), India (250), Ireland (160), United Arab Emirates (154) and the United Kingdom (138). For the first eleven weeks of this year the USA has (1,401), United Arab Emirates (144), United Kingdom (48), Ireland (35), and India (24). We have received some great words of encouragement especially from our friends in the United Kingdom.

I thought you might want to read the very first Grits again. If so, the next few paragraphs contain that first story.  If not, I’ll just meet you at the bottom of the page.

A Word of Encouragement

The story is told of a Christian lady who had cancer.  Her pastor went to see, encourage, and pray with her.  Towards the end of the visit, her pastor asked if he could pray with and for her.  Her response was, “yes, of course.”  That wasn’t surprising.  What happened next was.

When he asked how he should pray, her response was totally unexpected.  He assumed it would be for healing but instead she said, “Pastor, pray that I would not waste this suffering.”  Waste this suffering.

She was wise enough to know that the God she believed in was sovereign, was in control and was a kind, merciful and loving God.  She also knew that He was wise and that this had been allowed into her life for a purpose–His purpose.

God’s word says, “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

I admit I’m baffled by a lot of what is happening around me.  Just when I think I can’t be surprised…I am.  But I’m not baffled about God.  He is working in our circumstances to bring glory to His name and strengthen our faith.

So, God has this.  He isn’t asking us to understand…He is only asking us to trust Him.  And believe me…He has a track record of always getting it right.  God bless you today…trust Him…He’s got this.

Well, that is where it all started. The last two years my wife Judy and I have been honored to share our lives and our stories with all of you.  We honestly don’t have an accurate idea of how many people take the time to read Grits each day, but we do know that we are grateful for all of them. The stories have been as varied as life itself.  We have written about everything from the “Underwear Fairy” to a mean goose in our city park we named, “Bubba.”  Hopefully, many made you smile, and some might have made you cry.  I know there were times when tears slid down my cheeks as I wrote.

You know, Jesus loved to tell stories and He told a lot of them.  Maybe that is why I love Grits so much—it teaches the way He did. All the stories for the last 700 days have had a truth that can be applied to life and very often that truth centered around just how much Creator God loves us, His creation.  Oh, and we have learned that no matter how big or how small the problem or the circumstance, we can know for certain that, “He’s got this.”

I’ve wondered exactly how long Grits will be around.  Well, I suppose the answer is this.  As long as there is a story to tell and a friend who enjoys reading it, I will keep pressing the keys and Judy will keep designing the graphics. So, once again, thank you so much for reading and sharing Grits with your family, friends, and neighbors. And let’s always remember that no matter how difficult the circumstance, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

Danny

Jesus wept.” John 11:35

It still gives me reason to pause.  It was years ago…more than ten but less than twenty.  A couple of the people in the story belong to me—one by blood and one by marriage.  The other, Danny, was a stranger that they encountered.  As they causally bumped into each other that day, their lives were changed…maybe not forever but for the moment. But every time this story is told, the change lives on.

It all started when my son-in-law Blake and his wife and my daughter Sarah were taking a walk. After a while, they noticed a man walking his bike down the sidewalk coming towards them. As he drew closer, they noticed he had a military bag full of stuff and looked exhausted and was limping and wearing a pair of broken-down old shoes. As they passed, he politely said hello even joking about his limp and how he was walking off some blisters he had.

After they walked on a few more feet it struck Blake that this guy was probably homeless—obviously lonely and hurting. At that moment Blake turned to my daughter and said they should at least try to help him. So, they hurried home and Blake found a nearly new pair of shoes, some socks, and a bag of snacks and drinks and headed out to find his new friend. He found him a block or so away.  He said, “Hey man what size shoe do you wear?” He replied he didn’t know what size he wore and then began to share some of his story. He had a “hard, knock life.”

He explained to Blake that he had hit a rough time after coming home from serving in the military and had just had a terrible day—probably not the only one he had experienced. After talking for a few minutes, Blake offered him the shoes and socks and told him he hoped this would help with the blisters. He then offered him the food and drinks. It was obvious the man hadn’t eaten in a while and when he saw the food, his broad smile was better than any spoken thank you. Then, they exchanged names and a handshake and Danny went his way and Blake his.  Then…something unexpected happened to Blake.

Blake told me later that as he walked away, he began to cry and with each step away from Danny, the tears flowed more freely. Some say real men don’t cry and that of course is not true.  The Bible says that the greatest man ever to live shed some tears.  In the shortest verse in the New Testament, it says, “Jesus wept.”  But those two words speak volumes. It speaks of a Man who wasn’t afraid to touch the untouchable or love the unlovable. It speaks of a man who was willing to give what He had to help others—including His own life.

My son-in-law would tell you he doesn’t always get it right.  He would tell you that he is in fact far from perfect.  But this father-in-law will tell you this is one time he knocked it out of the park—a walk-off homer. And all he did was what all of us should do…love our neighbor. If we are Jesus followers that is not only expected—it should be a rite of passage. To follow Jesus, we should be like Jesus. That day Blake did something that Jesus would have done.  First, he saw and then he did something.  How cool is that?

Blake said that he was moved, struck, with the reality that there are people all around us that are hurting…beat up and cast down by life and it’s crazy circumstances.  That day, Blake didn’t even have the money to buy Danny a meal, but do you know what he did?  He did what he could and that was enough. So, how about you?  The next time you find a someone who looks a little like Danny, will you do what you can? Will I? I know it can be risky, but I also know that it is always pleasing to our Heavenly Father.

We don’t have to be zillionaires to make a difference. That day, Blake was broke, but he discovered a great lesson—the power of a simple gift, a kind word, and warm handshake. And whether he knew it or not, he also discovered that there is a God, some of us call Him Dearest Daddy, who loves us and loves it when we act like Him. He also found out what I and perhaps you, already know, “He’s got that.”   Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Military memories, prayer, Scripture, thankful

A Dream and a Prayer

But, as it is written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him.” 1 Corinthians 2:9

First, a special note. My wife Judy recently shared this story on her Facebook page.  As I read it again, I was reminded of God’s special love for His children—like me, like you and I knew I had to share it again.  So, enjoy the read and remember, He loves you.

We had to have the wrong address. Judy and I came home from Germany and after visiting family for a couple of weeks, headed to our new duty assignment. We were assigned to Whiteman Air Force Base near Knob Noster, Missouri.  Yes, friend, there is a Knob Noster.  We arrived there only to find out that the state fair was being held about twenty miles away.  There were no hotel rooms. Nada. None. Period.

Knob Noster only had a couple of small hotels, and both had said they were full.  Judy was expecting and I was starting to feel like the Bible story of Mary and Joseph.  You know, the whole no room deal.  Well, the one place said try back that afternoon and maybe someone will check out.  They did and we had a room.

First, you need to understand this was back in 1980 so there was no internet to check ratings and all of that.  Second, it was the only room in town.  Third, it was bad—as in not good.  Bad as in bugs.  Bad as in bad.  Oh, well, it wasn’t a stable, so we were grateful.  It was a place to sleep.  God was good. Probably though, I needed to be more specific next time when I ask for a place to stay. I needed to learn from Judy.

So, the very next day we start looking for a place to live.  There was a town called Warrensburg about ten miles from the base.  It had a university and was a nice, yet small, midwestern town.  Unfortunately, housing options were very limited.  The few places the real estate person showed us were small, dated, and pricey.  Now Judy had this prayer thing down.  She had asked God for a house with a fireplace.  My expectations weren’t that high. I had asked God for a house without bugs.  She was much more creative than me.  Honestly, I wasn’t sure God was going to pull off either one of our requests.  And then he came along.

No, it wasn’t God, but he was God’s delivery man.  His name was Mario—like the brothers. He kinda looked like Danny DeVito. He too was a real estate agent and he had heard us talking with the other agent.  He came over and introduced himself. He said, “You know, I have a house that I had built but haven’t been able to sell.  I might be willing to rent it to you.”  He gave us the address and told us go and check it out. It was just outside of town in a neighborhood called, “Valley View.”

We drove out and turned in and started checking addresses.  At the end of the first road, we had to go left or right on Valley View Circle.  We went left and began looking for house number 209.  Soon, on the right, was number 209.  But wait…this couldn’t be the right place.  It was a new, beautiful three-bedroom split level brick home.  We were shocked and said, “No, this can’t be right.”  We went and peeked in the windows.  “No, no way. Must have the wrong address.” And then we saw it.  A massive chimney connected to a big fireplace.

Well, this was too much. Judy and I were beyond excited. This was more, so much more, than we ever expected in our wildest expectations.  We immediately went back to the real estate office and hunted down Mario.  “Well,” he said, “I’ve changed my mind.  Sorry, no deal.”  Naw…just kidding.  He said he liked us, trusted us and would be willing to work with us.  The bottom line is he rented it to us at below market value.  He said he would need a security deposit and we told him we didn’t have anything saved up.  He readily agreed to tack $25 a month onto the rent till we had that covered.  Oh, and of course, it was refundable. 

So, that is how Judy and I moved into our Cinderella castle at 209 Valley View Circle. Oh, and the yard needed landscaping, so he paid me to do that and took it off the rent. Amazing.  You have probably already guessed that this is one of our favorite God stories.  I still smile as I write this because it is just one example of how God has showered us with His love and grace.  A fireplace? Really? New brick home?  Yup. God is good.

Now God wasn’t good because He gave us a very nice house when there was no way we could afford one.  God wasn’t even good because He gave Judy a fireplace.  No, God is just good.  Sometimes it is very obvious and sometimes it takes a little faith to see it…but He is good.  Someone once said, “God is good, and He is good at being God.”  I was thankful for the Knob Noster Motel (bugs and all) because it was better than sleeping in our car.  But I was also thankful for the time He gave us our wildest dream.

1 Corinthians 2:9 says, “But, as it is written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him.” I know that is probably talking about heaven, but I think it has to apply here too. Over the years there have been some real winner mountaintops when God just showed off. But do you know what?  There have been some valleys too. Hard times when we couldn’t see the next step.  The big take away has always been, “God is good. God is faithful. God can be trusted.”  So, I’m gonna lay my head down tonight and rest in Him believing that.  After all, He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

The Sky Was Indeed Falling

Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” Matthew 25:13

The clock was ticking…and I didn’t even know it.  Getting older is, well, interesting.  It certainly has its perks…like you mess up and people just give you that knowing nod, you know, the one that says, “We’re gonna give you a pass on that because you are old(er).”  Of course, sometimes they are not understanding, and they give you the “what for”.  One of the things that is just a bit difficult are the things that you lose.  You know sometimes you lose your mind, sometimes you lose your hair, sometimes you lose your teeth, sometimes you lose your vision and sometimes you lose your hearing.  Wait, what did you say?

Well, I can speak from personal experience on a couple of those things.  My hair is retreating and my hearing, in a least one ear, is well, less than.  One of favorite hearing tests is the fact that I can cover my “bad” ear and still hear our clock ticking at 25 feet.  If I cover my good ear…not matter how close I get…I can’t hear a thing.  One time I put my face up to the face of the clock and still couldn’t hear a thing.  But here’s what is strange—it’s not every sound, but only certain frequencies.  I can hear most voices (except my wife’s), most music, and most other sounds.  Of course, some things you just can’t hear—or see coming. That happened a couple of years ago.  A clock was ticking, and I had no idea.

My wife called me one Wednesday afternoon.  She sounded a bit frustrated—you know like that tone wives have when they ask their husbands to take the trash out for three days…well, it was kinda like that.  Just a little edgy.  But this had nothing to do with the trash.  Instead, she said, “Dewayne the ceiling in the middle bedroom has fallen.”  I said, “What?” She repeated what she said and yes, I had heard her right.  It turns out that over half of the plaster ceiling in the spare room was now laying on the bed and floor.  I said I was on my way! When I got home, I found out that she was not kidding or even exaggerating.  Water-soaked plaster and blown insulation covered the bed and the entire floor.  What a mess! How do you even begin to clean it up?

As it turns out…it was not a fluke. We have an air conditioning unit in our attic for the upstairs. When the company installed it, they build a small platform where the overflow pan would sit.  The pan was there in case the primary drain clogged. So, unknown to me, the main drain clogged, and the pan began to fill. The pan also had a drain but, in this case, it just wasn’t enough to handle the excess water. As it filled with water the platform slowly, ever so slowly, began to tilt.  As it tilted, the water in the pan spilled over the edge and onto the attic floor, seeping into the ceiling.  Slowly, surely, over a few days, and believe it or not, without a drip, the ceiling continued to absorb the water until it had enough… and the insulation and plaster fell…big time.

It was a sloppy, no fun, you’ve got to be kidding me, mess.  And then, of course, we had to repair the ceiling.  It took us a couple of hours to clean up the mess and a good friend helped me repair the ceiling. We also had someone come in and properly rebuild the platform so it would not give way again.  In two or three weeks the whole thing was a memory.  It was a learning experience for sure.

One lesson I learned, is to make a trip to the attic on a regular basis and make sure everything is working.  Pour some bleach in the drain to kill any algae and make sure the drain isn’t clogged. Two, understand that there are clocks ticking that we don’t hear…can’t hear and when the straw breaks the camel’s back—you’ve got yourself a dead camel.

Life is filled with surprises and with some, all the preparation and all the good intentions in the world, can’t help you avoid them.  But we can do what we can do.  It never occurred to me to ask God why He allowed that ceiling to fall.  I mean, I know He loves me and I’m sure on that day He wasn’t mad at me.  The bottom line is… I didn’t do my part.  My part was to make a trip to the attic every once in a while, and check things out.  His part was to help me not lose my cool during the mess.  And, amazingly, even though I didn’t do my thing…He did His.  He sent friends to help and now in the summer when the air is running, I make an occasional trip to the attic.

You know, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure—or several pounds of wet insulation and plaster. So, thank you Father for helping me grow in patience and shrink a little in frustration.  Thank you for being faithful and for always being there.  I know, “You’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture, thankful

The Bloat Load

In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace, which He lavished upon us.” Ephesians 1:8

More is better.  I know, I know…that is a flawed philosophy because sometimes more is just more but often…more is better.  I am a foodie.  I like food and food likes me.  To me food is more than nourishment…food is like a warm blanket on a cold night and because of that I sometimes ask for…more.  When my wife Judy and I were much younger for a special treat we would go to Shoney’s for supper. It didn’t happen often, not because we didn’t like it but because our very limited budget said no. On an even rarer occasion we would get desert…either strawberry pie or chocolate ice cream cake.  When the choice was the latter, I would ask the serve to “smother” it with extra hot fudge and usually, they would.  The cake would come baptized in hot fudge. Can someone say, “Amen?”

More can indeed be better.  I’ve never been too shy about asking for more.  One time I was at our local restaurant. We were and are regulars there and whenever I ordered something that had french fries, I would ask them to be sure and add a few extra.  I know, my Momma surely taught me better and Judy was mortified but I did it and it worked.  My plate would come and sure enough…there were french fries enough to feed half the kids in Africa.  I would then douse them with ketchup and well, it was good.  More can be better.

On one particular visit I decided to change my approach, so I asked the server for a “boat load” of french fries.  I wasn’t sure how much a “boat load” was but I was sure it was more and yes; more can be better.  Well, it worked and once again my BBQ sandwich was accompanied with what had to be a five-pound bag of french fries. As we finished our meal, our server brought our ticket by.  Now, I’m one of those people who don’t normally even look at the ticket…I just assume it is right.  But this day I did…and I was glad.

No, the amount wasn’t wrong but what she wrote was hilarious.  She was probably not familiar with my southern humor or word pictures because she didn’t write “boat load,” she had written, wait for it, “bloat load.”  Even now as I write this a smile creeps across my face because it was both accurate and funny.  I am sure by the time I finished off the enormous pile of fried potatoes, I was most certainly, “bloated.”  Wrong word—right message!  And yes, sometimes more is better.

I know that is true with God.  In my Jesus journey, I have discovered that He is a “bloat load” God.  Mercy…bloat load. Kindness…bloat load. Love…bloat load. Patience…bloat load. Grace…mega bloat load.  In fact, I like the way Paul, one of the big players in the New Testament part of the Bible put it.  He said, “In Him [that’s Jesus] we have redemption [that’s rescue from our hot mess sin] through His blood [that’s the cross], the forgiveness [that means charges dropped] of our trespasses, according to the riches [that means a lot] of His grace, which He lavished [that means “bloat load”] upon us.” Wow. Now that is good news.

I thought it was always cool when the server accommodated my “more is better” request.  At the minimum they didn’t scorn me and at the most…well I received more and as you know…more can be better.  But nothing matches God.  The only place that God is a little stingy is in the wrath department.  Oh, He is just, and He is holy, but His preference is that each of us, all of us, come to Him and receive His grace.  After all, He did say He loved the whole world and after all He send His Son to die for that world on a Roman cross.  Can someone say, “bloat load?”

So, more can be better…especially if it involves hot fudge and french fries.  Oh, and more is always better when it involves the mercy, kindness, love, patience, and grace of my Dearest Father.  He wants you to be able to call Him Father also…just ask and He will lavish His great grace all over you and call you His own.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Military memories, Scripture, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Me and Major Hobbs

Come to Me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

I knew the outcome…I thought.  The list of the things I enjoyed while serving in the Air Force is long and varied.  Somehow, which I’m sure God arranged, I was assigned to work in the command section at all my duty assignments.  It all started when a guy named Master Sergeant Johnson picked me up at the small airport in Minot, North Dakota and casually said, “I think I’m going to let you work for me.”  He worked in the command section of the Combat Support Group and so it began.  Each new duty assignment found me working for the commanders and first sergeants of each unit.  It was awesome. So many of those leaders left their fingerprints on my life and help mold me in the person I am today.

1973 found me assigned to the command section of one of aircraft maintenance squadrons at Moody Air Force Base. My immediate supervisor, the first sergeant and even the commander became friends of sorts—within the parameters of military protocol.  All that leads to the point of this story.  After joining the service, I learned to play racquetball and loved it.  I suppose I was even pretty good at it.  Well, my commander, Major Hobbs, also played.  Normally, our path probably wouldn’t have crossed at the gym, but this young buck airman kept egging this 20 year my senior, slightly overweight, Major… to play him in racquetball.  I assured him that I could take him and then one day, he said, “Ok.”

He told me to get a court time and I did.  Now everything assured me that this was going to be a no match…and it was…but not like I thought.  On the appointed day and at the appointed time we met to do battle.  I was sure I was going to show my commander what a real racquetball player looked like.  I served first and I may have made a couple of points.  Then, it was his turn, and that is when I began to learn that the race doesn’t always go the swiftest…or the youngest.  Major Hobbs would serve and then move to the center of the court and proceeded to beat me like an unwanted tom cat.  He virtually didn’t move because he didn’t need to.  He totally mastered the ball with his racket and put the ball, almost every time, wherever I wasn’t

Well, a set (win) in racquetball, is three games…if needed.  We didn’t need them.  He finished me off in two games.  One player left the court drenched in sweat and exhausted and one left the court without a drop.  One player left the court dragging and exhausted while the other left with a strange bounce in their step.  You can probably guess which was which.  The young buck airman was taught a good lesson that day and it is one that I still remember today. It is not always about how light on your feet and how fast you can move.  Sometimes it is about strategy…how you play the game.

And so, it is with life. A wise man, woman or child will know that you need to have a plan, a strategy if you will, if you are going to win the game of life.  And the crazy part is the best strategy doesn’t depend on talent, wealth, or opportunity.  It leans, it is driven by – a close relationship with Creator God. Now don’t miss that.  Religion is nice, church is a great idea, but neither are the answer—a personal relationship with God through faith in His Son and the wisdom and guidance of the Holy Spirit is. It is a power team of three and yet One.  Amazing. With Him calling the shots, well, life just goes better…a lot better. Jesus invites us to come and do life with Him…and that is an invitation we need to accept.

That day, we left the court differently but there was one thing we shared…a smile.  The older, wiser Major smiled because he had helped a prideful, young airman learn a lesson in humility.  A lesson, honestly, he needed. And the airman, well, he smiled too because someone wiser than him took the time to teach.  God really does want to help us do life and honestly, we need Him. Don’t be pushed away by all the hype in religion.  Go ahead and schedule some court time with God and you just might discover how much He loves you and wants to help.  You might discover that no matter what…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

#friends

Two are better than one because they have a good reward for their efforts. For if either falls, his companion can lift him up; but pity the one who falls without another to lift him up.” Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

There were times when having a sister was not a bad thing. So, I am the baby of eight kids.  Daddy and Momma, probably unintentionally, grouped the kids.  There were three older boys, then a girl and a boy, and finally two more girls and me—the object of my parent’s delight—the perfect child. Ok, that is not even close to true but after all, it is my story. Growing up there was not a brother too close to my age, so I was kinda a solo act and too often the object of my sister’s merciless teasing and testing. More often than not…we were at odds.  And, of course, they would run to Momma and tell her how bad I was.  But she knew better…oh yes, she knew better.

Now with all that said, there were times when having a sister was not a bad thing.  When they became teenagers a few years before me, sometimes I got to tag along on dates. Since their boyfriends had their driver’s license, it meant…freedom!   Yup, even sisters have advantages. Another of those advantages involved manual labor. You see when I was a kid, one of my responsibilities was to mow the yard.  While our yard was good sized, we also had a couple of acres that was just a big open field.  Every once in a while, that field had to be mowed.  Riding mower?  You’ve got to be kidding.

At one time or another, I do remember we had two push mowers.  They were nothing special—in fact they were anything but.  They were usually lawnmower corpuses that my Daddy had resurrected using spare parts.  I particularly remember one that didn’t have an off position on the throttle.  The only way to turn it off was to pull off the plug wire.  It was this mower that taught me the value of doing something carefully because if you didn’t remove the wire very carefully…well, let’s just say it was a shocking experience!

Well, I’m not whining (no, really) but that was a lot of weeds to mow.  So, every once in a while, I would talk one of my sisters into helping and sometimes they would even volunteer.  I mean you know how girls…even sisters…are about their figures and what I saw as work they saw as a weight loss plan.  Anyway, I would lead with mower number 1 and my sister would follow with mower number 2.  It sure helped–both physically and psychologically.  Just knowing I wasn’t all alone was really encouraging.  Well, I remember the time I was mowing my little heart out thinking my sister was right behind me with mower number 2.  Around and around, I went…never looking back…believing that she was still there.

Well, the bottom line is I went and went till I happened to look back only to realize that she had quit, and I was all alone.  Instantly the task seemed impossible and the field bigger than ever and I wanted to quit too.  The difference:  I was alone.  At that moment I realized that even though I didn’t always like my sister…I needed her. We may have fussed and fought but when it came to mowing, she was my helper–my partner.

Well, the point is this:  we really do need each other…especially in our life journeys, our spiritual journeys, our day-to-day bump into stuff journeys.  Having someone we can talk with, someone we can share our burdens with, someone who will pray with us and for us, someone who is slow to judge and quick to love is just invaluable.  Someone said, “No man is an island” and that is just the truth. I’m learning that you don’t have to always agree with someone to love that someone…or even like that someone.

Even as a person who values alone time—I know there is value in walking side by side. In the Old Testament part of the Bible, Ecclesiastes 4:9–10, one of the smartest guys ever to live said, “Two are better than one because they have a good reward for their efforts. For if either falls, his companion can lift him up; but pity the one who falls without another to lift him up.” Well, let me just tell you, I know that is true when you are nine or ten and mowing two acres and it is true today and every day.  There is no better best friend than the One who wants to be your Dearest Daddy.  He will never leave you alone…never quit.  You can trust that “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Patrol Boy

But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance or his stature because I have rejected him. Humans do not see what the Lord sees, for humans see what is visible, but the Lord sees the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7

It was a dream come true.  Growing up when I did was a blast.  I was born in 1954 (and yes, that was a long time ago) and things were just different.  Life was slower, people mattered more, things mattered less, and respect was a big deal.  I was raised to call people older than me, sir and ma’am.  It’s kinda humorous, but now I am the senior adult and I still call everybody and their brother, “sir.”  It was just ingrained in me from my earliest memories.

Back in those days, when you were in the sixth grade you were the king of the mountain.  You see in Florida in the early sixties elementary school went from first thru sixth grade.  There was no kindergarten.  Part of being the king of the mountain was the prospect of being selected to be a “patrol boy.”  Now, the first thing you need to know is the term “patrol boy” was a term of respect.  Today I think they still have crossing guards but back then…patrol boys were the state police of the day.  They had a belt that went around their waist and over their shoulder and of course, the flag.  It was a two-piece design that was about five foot long when put together.  Oh, I almost forgot.  They had a safety helmet too.  They definitely looked the part.

At the end of each school day, these brave traffic warriors would be dismissed from class a little early to go and man their assigned post. They would put on their belt and helmet, grab their flag, and head out for duty.  Now this was the real deal.  A teacher or aide didn’t accompany them.  The lives of their peers were in their hands—and they were granted authority to stop traffic.  Again, it was an honor and a dream to get that belt, helmet, and flag.  The selection process was done at the end of the school year of our fifth grade.  I’m not sure what the criteria was, but I do know not everyone got selected.

Ok, let’s be honest.  I wanted…I really wanted to be a patrol boy.  It was like I was born for it.  It was my destiny.  I could tell you that I wanted to help save lives.  I could tell you that the safety of every kid who crossed at my post was what drove me but that wouldn’t be true.  No, I’m afraid it wasn’t quite that noble.  I’m afraid it had nothing to do with safety…it had to do with…the belt, the helmet, and the flag.  Now don’t laugh, it was a big deal. The uniform has led a lot of guys to sign up for the Marines.  I was no different.  I wanted people to look at me and say, “There goes a patrol boy.  Leader of peers and a hero to boot.”

Well, it happened.  I was selected and honestly, it was just about everything I thought it was going to be—at least through my eyes.  No one ever called me a hero, nor did I outright save anyone’s life, but there was something about the way it made me…feel. Looking back, I think there is a word for it…pride.  You know there is a good pride…the kind that lets you know you did your best.  There is also the kind that says, “I’’m a patrol boy and you’re not.”  It’s closely related to the kind that says, “I have power and you don’t. You have to listen to me…obey me.”  Bummer.

As far as I know, at least from the outside, I did a pretty good job.  I received and proudly wore my little pin, which I got to keep at the end of the year that marked my service.  No one got ran over on my watch and I think I only got in trouble once.  That happened when one of my fellow patrol boys, a friend no less, made me mad and I whacked him with my flag.  It certainly wasn’t very hero like and trust me it wasn’t as pretty.  Something on the inside—that should have stayed on the inside—oozed out. I realize now that all of us have a tendency to play that game—pretty good on the outside and pretty dingy on the inside.  Someone once said you can fool some of the people some of the time, but you can’t fool all the people all of the time.

There should be another saying that says, “You can’t fool God any of the time.”  You see, God’s got this “vision thing” that allows Him to see right past the skin and right into our heart.  He sees our real thoughts, our real motives, our real selves.  It’s been kind of a “go to” verse for me recently but here’s what it says, “The Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at Eliab’s appearance or stature because I have rejected him. Humans do not see what the Lord sees, for humans see what is visible, but the Lord sees the heart.” Wow…that is one scary thought.  God sees what matters.  We need to remember that.

Well, I enjoyed my year as a patrol boy.  The next year I went to junior high and went from the top of the heap to the bottom.  In fact, now that I think about there were a couple of guys who did their best to make junior high hard for me.  Today we call it bullying.  I wonder if it was payback for some misused authority.  Hmmmm.  What goes around…comes around.  Anyway, I’m glad I don’t have just a “patrol boy” watching over me.  Nope, I have the King of Kings and that’s pretty awesome!  I don’t have a thing to worry about because “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne