Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture, thankful, wisdom

Big Truths from a Hard Story

What is the price of two sparrows—one copper coin? But not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows.”  Matthew 10:29-31

Well, not all stories end well…and this one didn’t.  Friday morning Judy left for Oklahoma to visit with Sarah, Blake and the boys.  Saturday morning I got up early as usual, had some time with God and then went for my morning exercise.  When I came back, by our backdoor, was a little baby squirrel.  Now I don’t know a thing about baby squirrels, so I can’t tell you how old he was.  I can tell you that something just didn’t seem right. He had all of his fur but you could tell he was not very strong and oddly, his head seemed just too big for his tiny body.

He was in the grass, but not far from the flower bed which is next to our backdoor.  He seemed to be eating grass but I suspect he was actually getting the water off the dew soaked grass.  He was moving pretty good but again, strangely, I’m not sure where he came from since there was not a squirrel nest to be seen.  I went on into the house and when I came back out he scurried into the flower bed. I put out some bird food for him to eat.  I knew he would like that because all of his big brothers do their best to empty our bird feeders.

Well, he made himself at home.  He was definitely eating some of the bird food and I believe having some of the water.  He soon made himself a place to sleep there in the flower bed.  I was hoping, just hoping that my little friend was a big enough fighter to pull this thing off.  I would check on him each day and give him food and water.  I was doing everything I could for him.  But today, when I came home from work, well he had died.  I wasn’t surprised because I really think something was wrong—something more than food or water could fix—something more than ending up at the wrong place at the wrong time.  So I wasn’t surprised, but I was genuinely sad.  I wanted him to live and I wanted to be his hero—his savior.  Neither happened.

Now I’m not sharing this so we can all have a Debbie downer day…not at all.  I’m learning that so many things have a story and can teach us big truths.  I think this is one of those times.  The first thing that came to mind was that sometimes we can do everything right—everything—and still not get the result that we want.  We can be the best husband, the best wife, the best parent, the best employee or the best owner and sometimes the story just doesn’t end well. It doesn’t mean we failed. It doesn’t mean we were somehow to blame. Sometimes, it is just part of this thing called life.  And while the story doesn’t always end well—we never have to face that difficult ending alone.  Our Dearest Daddy is always there.  The Whisperer is always close by and whispers the assurance of His love and His compassion.  No matter what—Jesus will still be there.

The other big truth from this is that God really does care about the smallest things.  If I told you that God knew today that this little creation died, would you believe me?  If I told you that even the smallest detail of your life never passes Him unnoticed, would you believe it?  If I told you He never grows weary of our worries and fears and unsettled hearts would you have the courage to believe?  Well you can, because Jesus said that not even a sparrow can fall to the earth unnoticed by the Father.  He even went on to say that if that is true, how much more do you think He cares about you? How. Much. More?

I know and you know that these are just puzzling times.  Everything seems so uncertain.  It seems as if we spend our days walking on quicksand—our feet unsteadily walking on shifting ground.  But don’t be shaken.  The God of the universe who cares when a little squirrel dies cares infinitely more about you.  Jesus knows and feels your hurts and pains…and He cares.

So all you tendered hearted readers, please forgive me for sharing a hard story.  I hope, though, that the big truths made it worth the read.  Why not take a moment and sit with the One who loves you so? Why not get close enough to hear His whispers of love and assurance.  I hope you will because when our hearts are heavy and a little frightened—we need to know that He’s got this.  And He does. 

Posted in Family, Grace, life, loving others, Scripture, travel, wisdom

The Thumb

Imitate God, therefore, in everything you do, because you are his dear children.” Ephesians 5:1

He gave me the thumb and I’m not sure I liked it.  Last Saturday afternoon I decided to take a trip to Marion.  With Judy out in Oklahoma doing family mission work I was a little bored.  I wasn’t heading to anyplace in particular just getting out of the ‘burg.  As many of you know the road to Marion is a nice four lane highway with a speed limit of 65 mph.  I was hitting that right on the nose.  Now, frankly, most of the time I am like most of the people and do a couple of miles over the limit.  But today I was a law-abiding citizen.  And then I saw him.

Up ahead some distance was a guy and his lady friend on a Harley.  He was doing probably about 62 mph…just enough so I was either going to have to slow down or get into the left lane and pass him.  As I got closer I could see him. He had three or four days of stubble covering his face, a bandana held his hair down, his jeans were worn, and a few tats and some sort of leather vest finished his look.  His lady friend also sported a bandana and was dressed in black.  She reminded me of a female version of Johnny Cash.

So, giving the biker dude plenty of girth, I moved over into the left lane, cruise still set to 65.  Just before I got even with the guy on the bike he nudged the throttle on his Harley and soon was about 40 yards ahead of me.  I thought, “Well, ok, maybe Harley’s don’t have cruise and he realized he was doing under the speed limit.  But wait…now he’s slowing down again.  Strange.  I went back into the left lane and when we were about even—he throttled up again.  Well, back into the right lane I went.  As I did, he did his slow down thing again.  I got back into the left lane and when I did his lady friend turned around and gave me “the look.”

I can’t really explain the look.  I know when Judy gives it to me it never ends well.  So, I filed that away.  Soon I was even again with my friend on the Harley and he looks over at me.  I give him a shrug of the shoulders, the kind that says, “Hey dude, what’s up?” And that’s when he gave me the thumb.  Now I don’t speak sign language at all.  I do know when some people do certain things with their fingers it can be pretty ugly.  I’ve had that happen before.  But no one has ever given me the thumb.

He simply held up his hand, fingers tucked in and his thumb sticking out—kinda like a hitch-hiker would do when thumbing for a ride. His thumb pointing to the rear of his bike, he gave it a jerk—pointing behind him—and throttled big and shot off into the distance.  Just like that, he and she were gone.  And not speaking fluent biker hand signs, I was left trying to figure out if I should be glad or mad or offended or off-ended. I need to tell you that I’m not sure off-ended is a real word but it sounded good.

So as the biker dude took off, several scenarios kinda played through my mind.  I mean if he was being a jerk, I could play like Clint Eastwood, reach under my seat and draw out my 45 magnum and say, “Go ahead…make my day.”  But the only thing under my seat was an umbrella and it wasn’t a 45 magnum anyway.  And maybe he wasn’t being a jerk after all.  He might have been saying, “Hey, the girl on the back is my wife Sally.  I just wanted to introduce her to you.”  It could have been the he wanted me to fall in behind him so he could break the wind for me like one of those Nascar drivers.

Truth is—I don’t have a clue.  So I pulled back into the right lane and kept on driving.  I even notched it down a couple of miles per hour to give the biker dude plenty of room. He turned right heading toward Pittsburg and I will probably never see him again.  But one thing is sure.  If he should happen to walk into church this Sunday, unless I violated some sort of biker code I don’t know about, I won’t have to be embarrassed.  I played it cool and hopefully acted like Jesus wanted me too.  And that is what matters.

Paul told some folks at Ephesus who were Jesus followers that they should imitate God in everything they do.  It not only applies to them—it applies to us. In other words, if we are Jesus followers, we should speak, act, think and respond like Him because we are His dear children. Now, I don’t always get it right.  In fact, too often I get it wrong.  But that day…it felt pretty good that I didn’t do something to embarrass myself or my Dearest Father.  So, if someone gives you the thumb, or worse, just hit the pause button. Pull back into the right lane, bump your cruise down a couple of mph and rest.  You know why, don’t you?  That’s right…He’s got this.

Posted in Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, missions, prayer, Scripture, thankful, travel

Miracles

For nothing will be impossible with God.” Luke 1:37

Well, there are miracles and then there are miracles.  One of the great adventures that Judy and I have been privileged to be a part of are church mission trips.  Specifically, mission trips to Africa.  For the past 15 or 16 years, our church has been an active participant in mission adventures.  At least one a year we try and send a team to Africa.  We started in Niger and then had to move a little south to the country of Mali.  We were privileged to serve there for several years.

I can’t explain how incredible it is to go on a mission adventure.  I also can’t really explain the draw that so many feel to this place called Africa. Where this story begins was a pretty difficult place.  We would stay in the bush often sleeping on the ground in tents.  The temperature would hover over 100 degrees.  I have one picture that showed a thermometer with a reading 125 degrees.  The food, well, let’s just say it wasn’t McDonald’s.  So what is it that causes people to step way out of their comfort zones just to serve others.  This story is part of that answer.

We were on a medical trip in Mali and the days were long and fruit was plentiful.  We had a full team including two medical doctors and several nurses.  They would treat the physically broken and we would try and share the truth of God’s love to the spiritually broken.  We would tell stories of Jesus and how He would go and help people.  We then would simply explain that we wanted to be like Him and help others.  We explained that people who knew Jesus in America had bought and paid for the medicine that they were receiving.  It was free to them because someone else paid the price.  It was always a great lead into the gospel stories because Jesus did the same for us.

Well, it was the end of a long day.  Most of us had wandered back to camp and were sitting around and chatting about the day’s activities.  Suddenly someone ran into the camp and shouted that there was an emergency back at the clinic.  We all rushed back over and what we found was grim…very grim.  A little girl, about nine if I remember correctly, had been climbing a tree.  She was about twenty-five feet up in the air when she slipped and fell—landing directly on her face.  Her father had carried her on a Moto (a small motorcycle) about three or four miles.  She was semi-conscious and unresponsive.

Two things happened simultaneously.  First, the doctors when to work and the saints went to praying.  Her pupils were unresponsive and though she was breathing, her respirations were rapid and shallow.  About an hour later the doctors said it was probably only a matter of time, her brain injuries seemed very serious.  I slipped into my pastor mode and wondered what an African funeral was like.  The doctors took turns sitting with her through the night, and then took her to the nearest first aid station. This part is fuzzy but it seems like at some point the father went ahead and took her back to her village.

The next day we went back to work with a somewhat heavy heart.  And then something happened…we heard that the little girl had woken up.  We then heard that she was speaking and walking around.  We then heard that she was responding and acting almost completely normal.  “What is this,” I wondered.  Again, if I remember correctly either that day or the next the father brought his little girl back to the doctors and there she stood.  A living, breathing, miracle.  It can be described as nothing else.  God had heard the prayers of His children and chosen to reach down from heaven and touch this little girl and give her back her life.  It. Was. A. Miracle.

Several of us have been to Africa many times and we have seen more than one miracle.  Sometimes it looked like this, sometimes it was God acting to avoid a terrible tragedy and sometimes it like a frog strangling rainstorm when it hadn’t rained for months and months.  But each time it was obvious that God was still God and He can do what He wants, when He wants.  After all, He is God.  For the skeptics out there who think that God doesn’t do the miracle thing—that it died out in the old days—well, that little girl would beg to differ with you.

Tucked away in the book of Luke, incidentally written by a physician in Jesus’ day, are some words that say it all.  It says “For nothing shall be impossible with God.” Nothing. Period. Seven words that can shake your world and this world. So what is rocking your world today?  COVID still keeping you up at night? Wondering about tomorrow or the next meal?  Worried about our country?  Well, I don’t know what God has planned—after all I’m in sales and not management—smile. But I do know that nothing is too big for Him to handle.  Just like that little girl in Africa who discovered she could lay down and rest in Him—so can you.  After all…He’s got this.

Posted in Family, forgiveness, life, loving others, Scripture

The Ding Doctor

Come, let’s settle this,” says the Lord. “Though your sins are scarlet, they will be as white as snow; though they are crimson red, they will be like wool.” Isaiah 1:18

Remember to keep your eye on the ball.  That’s a really important truth if you are playing baseball but if you are pulling into your garage…well, there’s more to it than that.

Several years ago I was coming home from work at the office.  As I was pulling into the driveway I noticed that my granddaughter Faith, who was only seven at the time, was playing in the garage.  Ever the careful Papa, I stopped to give her plenty of time to get clear of the car.  She was playing with her wagon and then moved the wagon out of my way.

Our my garage isn’t very deep, so I have a tennis ball hanging from the ceiling to remind me how far I can pull forward before hitting the wall. It’s a great idea…I probably need to patent it. So like a cruise ship captain I carefully began to dock the ship.  I had my eyes on two things.  First, my granddaughter Faith.  She was well out of the way, but again, you can’t be too careful.  The other was the tennis ball.  When the ball touched the windshield it was time to stop.  It was a great plan.  Almost.

You see, something had changed and I didn’t know it. Unknown to me, Faith had wrapped the cord that was holding the tennis ball around something and it moved the ball toward the wall and away from the car just about a foot.  So…I watched Faith—check. I watched the ball—check.  The one thing I didn’t watch was the wall.  Oops.

You can see this one coming. I hit the wall.  Now I was going really slow, so theoretically, I should have survived with little or no damage.  Well, theoretically anyway.  You see, before the wall was a hot water heat radiator.  I had figured that into the equation when I had hung the ball so no deal.  But, and it was a BIG but, sitting on top of the radiator was a leaf blower.  Now wait…don’t give me that look.  Don’t you store your leaf blower on top of your radiator?  Well anyway, when I hit the radiator, the leaf blower fell onto my hood—my nice shiny, dent-free hood and I gave birth to a nice, large ding—dead center and about a foot up from the front edge. Bummer.

Yup, bummer indeed.  There I was trying to do all the right things and ended up messing up big time.  You probably aren’t aware of this, but I am pretty particular about my car and that ding might as well have been the size of a moon crater. I was devastated. If that ding had been anywhere but the hood, it wouldn’t have been such a big deal but there it was—for all to see and ask about. Can you imagine explaining that one?  My once perfect hood was no longer perfect—and it was obvious.  That’s one thing about dings—they are usually very obvious—especially on nice shiny hoods. Sigh.

Did you know we have something in common with my dinged car hood?  Yup, we all have dings.  There’s not a perfect one in the bunch.  The Bible says “All have sinned…”  We are all “dinged up”.  As a matter of fact, unlike my hood which was perfect, we were born dinged. And not only that.  We constantly get more dings every day. We are like a ding factory. The question now becomes, “what are we going to do about it?”  One thing was obvious, I couldn’t fix that ding and we can’t fix our sin problem either.  So what’s the answer?  Well, I found the Ding Doctor.

My friend Terry told me about a guy who could get dings out of doors, hoods, or whatever. I went to see him and amazingly, with a lot of skill, he was able to make that ding disappear—vanish—like it was never there.  After he had worked his magic, I couldn’t thank him enough.  But I know something better than that. There is another Ding Doctor who can take care of our sin dings.  His name is Jesus.  No matter how big the failure, no matter how massive the sin—He is ready and willing to forgive us.  And when He gets done…well, believe it or not, you are “better than new”.  God says in the book of Isaiah which is in the Old Testament part of the Bible “Come, let’s settle this,” says the Lord. “Though your sins are scarlet, they will be as white as snow; though they are crimson red, they will be like wool.” How about that?!

Just saying, if you get a ding in your car, you might want to check out the Ding Doctor.  If you have managed to ding up your life, and remember we all have, you might want to see THE Ding Doctor.  There is not a life ding He can’t fix or a sin He can’t forgive.  If your ding looks like a total loss—don’t give up.  Trust me, He can take care of it.  He’s got this.

Posted in Family, food, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, wisdom

Food Fix

Jesus spoke to them again: “I am the light of the world. Anyone who follows me will never walk in the darkness but will have the light of life.” John 8:12

What do you mean food doesn’t fix everything?  Well, I don’t know if it is because I am from the South or because I am a Baptist but I just know food makes everything better.  There is nothing like a healthy (uh, perhaps unhealthy) dose of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, well seasoned {hog jowl or some other appropriate grease source} green beans, and a large portion of bread) to make everything better. And, of course, don’t forget dessert.

The other evening I came home from a rather difficult meeting.  I walked in the door and my wife Judy, who can read me like a book, instantly said, “do you need to self-medicate?”  I love her…she knows.  Off to the Dairy Barn we went and in just a few minutes I was feeling better thanks to a salted-caramel concrete.  Yup, the saying used to be “take two aspirins and call me in the morning.”  Now it is, “eat two chocolate cookies with a glass of cold milk and call me in the morning.”  Oh the joy.

We have this rose bush in our incredibly beautiful yard—which by the way is also due to Judy and her green thumb.  This rose bush is on an arbor by our back door which used to be a great spot.  It bloomed and as you walked through the arbor you were immersed in their sweet, lush smell.  It was good.  But over time the bush has grown not as healthy and doesn’t bloom nearly as much.

Judy and I were sitting in the yard yesterday morning and she made the comment that the rose bush had a single bloom.  So I casually mentioned that maybe she should feed it.  Remember, that fixes everything.  A good shot of rose bush food and bam here come the blooms.  But she told me I was wrong.  The problem wasn’t that the rose bush was starving for food—it was starving for light.  Here’s what has happened.

Just to the east of the rose bush where the morning sun comes in, two trees have grown—a dogwood and a redbud.  Both are great trees and they seem to be real happy.  But in the process of growing they have shut off a lot of the morning sunshine from the rose bush and it is suffering.  Judy said that the rose bush can survive the way it is but without enough sunlight it won’t and can’t bloom.  What we end up with is a rose bush that is just getting by and that will never really be what it was intended to be—a source of beauty with the sweet aroma of a new day.

So, somewhere in the future there is a good chance that the rose bush will probably have to be moved to a place where it can thrive and that means more sun.  It will be a dramatic change and it might even be difficult but unless we do something the rose will never be and do what it was meant to be and do.  Hmmmm.

I wonder if that is the problem with me—with you.  I wonder if we are growing in a place where the soil might be right but there just isn’t enough light.  I wonder if we need more Sonshine.  You see, we might believe that if our lives just had more stuff, more toys, more of this or more of that, we would be happy.  But the truth of the matter—we just need more of Jesus.

Jesus said, “I am the light of the world. Anyone who follows me will never walk in the darkness but will have the light of life.” Wow.  First, He affirms He is the light we are looking for.  It might seem easier, even logical to just put a light bulb out by the rose bush, but that light would be insufficient and could never replace the light of the sun.  And trust me, the light we need in our lives can never come from religion, denomination or some other “self medication.”  We need the true light that can only come from Him.

But He says something else.  He declares that if we walk with Him two things will happen.  We won’t have to just survive in the darkness, or starve for light and in fact we will have the light that brings life.  Bam…just what we need…just what the doctor ordered.  And if that isn’t enough, since we walk with Him there will never be the need for a transplant because we walk with the Light—we move with the Light.  Because of that, no circumstances will ever be able to hurt us.

Well, it’s just a matter of time but we will have to move our friend to a sunnier place in our yard.  And I will feel sorry for the bush as we dig him up and prune him back but it will be for his good.  After the initial pain he will bloom again and that will make it worth while.  So, what do you need to do in your life to once again walk with the Son?  What things need to be pruned back or what needs to be given up so you will be free to walk with Him again?  Yup, it might be painful but just imagine your life as you are blooming once again.  Imagine the fragrant smell of life with Him.  Make that decision today.  Go ahead and rest in Him.  He’s got this.

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

Call Me “Precious”

The woman was convinced. She saw that the tree was beautiful and its fruit looked delicious, and she wanted the wisdom it would give her. So she took some of the fruit and ate it. Then she gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it, too.” Genesis 3:6

I remember it like it was yesterday…or a couple of weeks ago anyway.  I am the youngest of eight children.  Some call me the baby of the family…I call it the best. My brothers and sisters nicknamed me “precious”.  I used to think it was because they were jealous, but I later learned they were just right.  And, because I was so precious, well, I often was the target of pranks and other acts of terrorism.

The two sisters right above me and myself were called the three little ones.  That was because everybody else was several years older and therefore bigger.  My two youngest sisters were the main terrorists.  They loved to hold me down and tickle me mercilessly and then pull my ears till they were blood red. It’s because of them one of my ears sticks out further than the other. They were two tough cookies.

One time they pushed me out the door in my underwear and wouldn’t let me back in.  I banged and banged on the door ,all to no avail.  They, of course, will deny all of this but trust me, at the Judgement Seat all will be revealed and they will surely be grateful for grace.

I have always had an affection for sweet things and they even used that against me.  One day one of them came up and said, “Dewayne, do you want some candy?”  Well, my response was, “Well sure.”  It was a small box and in my excitement I didn’t take time to read the label.  Honestly, since I was only about eight, I probably wouldn’t have known the difference anyway.  So, I opened the box and found that it was filled with chocolates.  There were only three or four pieces in the box and before long…they were gone.

I did notice that they tasted a little different, but they were sweet, and they were brown so hey, that was close enough for me.  I should have been suspicious that the terrorists were being so nice but I always was a trusting soul.  Well, several hours passed and before long time wasn’t the only thing that passed.  You see, my loving sisters had fed me a whole box of Ex-Lax.  They would deny it, you probably can’t believe it, but trust me, I was there.  Oh, boy was I there.

Well, I learned a lot of lessons growing up and this is one of them.  You see, things are often not what they seem to be. I thought I was a getting a box of chocolates and instead I got a box of trouble.  It looked like chocolate, it even tasted like chocolate, but it wasn’t even close.  Did you know that the Bible warns us how the devil can disguise himself?  It says that he can disguise himself as an angel of light when in fact he is the angel of darkness.  Remember that…things are not always as they seem.

I also learned that not everyone who comes bearing gifts can be trusted.  I should have known better when they offered me that box, but my desire for chocolate overruled my common sense.  That is what how Adam and Eve got in trouble in the garden. The story is found in Genesis and it says, “The woman was convinced. She saw that the tree was beautiful and its fruit looked delicious, and she wanted the wisdom it would give her. So she took some of the fruit and ate it. Then she gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it, too.” And just like that…I found myself eating Ex-Lax.

It’s a tricky world out there…terrorists are lurking everywhere and sometimes they might be related, so be careful.  Be sure and use your good common sense if someone offers you a little box filled with chocolates.  You might be getting more than you bargained for.  Like I said, I probably wouldn’t have understood the label even if I had read it. But do you know what?  My mama would have.  In fact, if I had gone to mama this story would have been totally different.  But, well, I didn’t. As we journey through this upside down world, don’t forget to go to your Dearest Daddy with your questions and mysteries.  He is always there, and He is always watching out for you.  You can trust Him. His box of chocolate is always the real deal.  So have a seat, open the box and enjoy.  You can rest in Him.  He’s got this.

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” Ephesians 4:32

They seem larger than life. I am from a generation that deeply admires heroes—people who seem larger than life. They do the most amazing things. They lay their lives on the line for their country, the put on a badge and go into dangerous situations for a few dollars a week. They charge into burning buildings when everyone else is trying to get out. Those are just a very few…the list goes on and on. There are also other kinds of giants—-larger in life in the quest for excellence, to change the world or perhaps, to be like Jesus. These are some of the people I admire the most—true spiritual giants. A couple of years ago I met one. I was amazed by her story.

It all started when we were invited over to a friends house for supper. When we arrived we had the opportunity to meet her mother who lives with her. That is when I realized it probably wouldn’t be a normal evening.

When her mom spoke to us you could tell she was struggling with her voice. Before long, she explained and that was the beginning of an incredible story.

She explained in 1950 when she was 19 years old, she was diagnosed with polio. If you know a little about that time period, there was an epidemic of this terrible, dreaded disease. It struck without warning and without rhythm and that was the case here. It left this dear saint partially paralyzed and also affected her vocal cords. I was enthralled with her story as she shared they said she would never walk—but they were wrong.

Then she shared more and more her story. When she was born (and remember this is around 1930) there were twins and she weighed less than two pounds. She was a fighter from the beginning and fight she did. Later, when she was eleven, she basically was put out to fend for herself and she did. She had a strong constitution and work ethic. I was amazed.

She married and had three miscarriages before giving birth to her daughter. She would end up having 21 surgeries for various reasons and also lives with a colostomy. She has been told that she has cancer though they really can’t pinpoint the source. I know there are several things that I am leaving out but that is enough for you to get the picture. She life has been difficult from the get-go but that is not the main story.

The most amazing story is her faith. Receiving Christ at a young age, her journey of faith has been strong and steady. Instead of turning bitter, like Job, her love for God only grew deeper and stronger. She shared that evening how blessed she was that God had entrusted her with this suffering. From her lips poured words of praise for her Savior. Then came stories of incredible generosity to those in need—both physically and spiritually. It really was amazing.

Judy and I both left that night refreshed as if we had drunk deeply from a cool spring. We were blessed, encouraged and challenged by a saint who had given more than she took. She isn’t the only one. Over my almost four decades of pastoring, I have bumped into so many spiritual heroes. You had to bump into them because like most heroes, they don’t brag about their lives and stories.
When I left that night I also left strengthened. It is instances like this that solidify my own faith. When I see and hear stories such as this one, it shouts to me, “God is real.” It also does one more thing. It causes me to examine what kind of story am I writing. When people read my life, what does it say about me…and about the God I serve.

Each one of us are writing a story and during this hot mess called COVID-19, we all have special opportunities to write a saga. The way we live, act and speak will tell a tale. Hopefully it will be one of grace and kindness. Paul wrote in the Bible that we should be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.

That is a tall order but God is in the business of filling tall orders. Why not take a moment and ask your Heavenly Father for a little, or maybe a lot, of help. Let Him know you’ve been treading water a lot these days and you could use a little rest. Don’t worry—He is ready and willing to help. He’s got this.

Giants in the Land

Posted in Family, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, wisdom

The “I Want You to Die” Tick

But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh in regard to its lusts.” Romans 13:14

You know there are one or two things that are good about a really cold winter.  And number one is the fact that it kills all the bugs. As you remember, last winter wasn’t very cold. I’m not sure what you thought about last winter’s weather, but apparently the local tick population thought it was just fine.  Even around my house—and I live on the main drag in Harrisburg—we have had to check every once in a while to make sure we didn’t pick up any unwanted hitchhikers.

Several weeks ago Judy and I went hiking in a wooded area.  The trail we were on was plenty wide but I guess ticks are good jumpers. Later in the week, I was working at my desk at home and I felt just a little itch on my leg.  You know, nothing major—just a “hi—I might need you to scratch me later” itch.  I ignored it.

After a bit, it developed into more.  It went from a “you might need to scratch me” to more of a “hey, now would be a good time to scratch me” itch.  So I did—and when I did, I felt a small bump.  At first I thought it was a small bite and whoever had done it had moved on to greener pastures.  I was wrong.  It was a dirty, rotten, no good, “I want you to die”… tick.  Oh, he wasn’t big—in fact he looked quite innocent. He was only the size of a writing pen head.  Well, I try to be a friendly guy—just not with ticks and especially not with one having dinner—and I’m the meal.  So we departed company and I did my best to make sure he went to the tick afterlife. So long friend…adios. No prayer, no service…just you’re out of here.

So, I thought it was not big deal—but I guess big is relative.  You see, by the next day that little bite site had turned red and was about twice as big as before—and it was still itching—only more.  Now fortunately it was NOT the kind of dirty rotten, no good, “I want you to die” ticks that give us weird diseases. But even so, the spot where he bit me itched for several weeks.  Even a couple of months later while the itch is gone the scar remained.  It hard to imagine that one little tick can cause so much trouble.  Write that one down:  little things can have bigger consequences.

Yep, that’s right.  Some small habit, some little action or inaction, a few seconds of a wandering mind, a few misspoken, unkind words—can have large and lasting consequences. And the worse part is that it doesn’t just affect us—it can and does affect those around us. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that because it starts small it stays small. It rarely does.  It really isn’t practical to totally avoid the outdoors so there has to be another way.  A good insect repellent is a good start.

A guy in the Bible named Paul wrote gives us some good advice on how to avoid pesky sins.  He said, “but put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh in regard to it’s lusts.”  So Paul said the best way to avoid the aggravation and consequences of sin is to give yourself a good smattering of Jesus and then avoid sin wherever and whenever it is likely to jump on.  The truth is the more we read the Bible and apply it and the more we act like Jesus the less likely we will find ourselves infested with pesky, troublesome sin.  Trust me…life is just better.

Well, the site where the friendly little tick decided to visit is finally about gone but it was a journey to get here.  The bottom line is it would just be better to avoid it in the first place. The old saying an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure is so true.  That is also true in avoiding ticks and it is true in avoiding sin. One thing is for sure.  It is good to know that God is more than willing to help us know when there’s a pesky sin close by.  All we have to do is ask, and He will help.  Mark it down…we can rest assured with Him close by.  He’s got this.

Posted in Family, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Military memories, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, wisdom

It’s a “Dippity-Do-Dah” Day

If we say, “We have fellowship with him,” and yet we walk in darkness, we are lying and are not practicing the truth.”  1 John 1:6

Dippity-do dah, dippy day, my oh my, what a wonderful day!  I joined the Air Force back in 1972 and in so many ways it was a different world.  At that time longer hair was still very much in vogue.  It seemed the only guys with shorter haircuts were either born in the 1920’s or in the military.  I was the latter.

It was also a different day in the way people view the military.  The country was coming out of the Vietnam era and sadly many saw veterans and the active military in a dark light.  I can well remember walking around town and getting the “one of those” look.  While I was never ashamed of being in the military, in fact, I was proud to serve, I did want to be cool—part of the in-crowd and short hair just wasn’t in.  But you know the old saying, “Where there is a will, there is a way.”  Hello Dippity-do.

It’s funny, I don’t remember anyone else doing it nor do I remember how I started.  I found this hair stuff called, “Dippity-do.”  It was a gel like product and depending on how much you applied, it would make your hair stay where you put it.  So I bought a jar and slowly I let the hair on the top of my head and sides grow out.  I would wakeup in the morning and put this stuff, in fact a lot of this stuff, on my hair.  I would comb it kinda on top of my head and toward the back.  The effect was—well, effective. The funny part is when this stuff dried out it made my hair as solid as a rock.  Of course, my mom always said I had a hard head.

I found that I could have the required white-wall around my ears and have all this hair glued down to the top of my head.  When I got off work, I would go take a shower, wash this stuff out and believe it or not have enough hair to totally cover my ears.  I looked like any other guy in the early 1970’s.  Even as I write this I’m saying, “What?”  But believe me it worked.  I looked like a military guy during the day and a regular off-the-street guy at night.  Looking back, it was weird.

Even stranger I worked in the command section of my squadron and to show how effective my ruse was, no one said anything.  It looked, and I guess was, regulation.  I remember one day walking in the local mall and coming straight toward me was my squadron commander, Major Hobbs.  We passed within five feet of each other and he didn’t even recognize me. Yup—G.I. Joe by day and a 70’s hipster at night. Looking back there probably was a word for it.  It was probably pretty hypocritical.

The word hypocrite means to “play the part” or to “wear the mask.”  It was used to describe actors in ancient Greece who were one thing on stage and another off the stage.  The one thing I remember is that I always felt a certain amount of fear while doing this.  There was always the “what if I get called in and don’t have time to plaster my hair down” thing.  What if my commander and my first sergeant saw me and did recognize me?  I knew they respected me and what would happen to that respect?  It’s the feeling you get when you are one thing one time and another thing later.

Well, finally I figured it wasn’t worth it and I’ll tell you that story another time, but the bottom line is I went and got a regular haircut.  Two things happened almost immediately.  First, I felt free.  The fear of the wrong person seeing me at the wrong time was suddenly gone.  It was like a weight was taken off my shoulders.  The second thing that happened was I discovered that in spite of what the culture said, I was proud to be in the Air Force and that haircut identified me as part of a special family and team.  It wasn’t something to be ashamed of…it was something to be proud of.  And the best part, the girl I was dating, who I later married, thought I was even cuter.  Now for the funny part. I have been out of the military now for 36 years and I never, not even once, grew my hair out.  I decided I like shorter hair.  More than that…I decided I like being real.

So, what about you?  What is it in your life where you “wear the mask?”  What is it in your life where you have decided to pretend—to be something you aren’t?  While you find that in every aspect of life, sadly it’s also common in the Jesus follower world.  People say one thing and do another—people who act one way on Sunday and another the rest of week.  If I learned anything from my Dippity-do world is that authenticity beats a plastic mask every time. 

John, one of the guys who followed Jesus in the Bible, said it pretty well.  He said, “If we say, “We have fellowship with him,” and yet we walk in darkness, we are lying and are not practicing the truth.”  In other words, if we say we are one thing and really are another—we are just living a lie.  It is better to be real than fake.  It is better to be authentic than counterfeit.  I may have fooled my commander that day but I never fool God when I choose to be one thing in public and another in private.  But the one thing I love about God is that He never rejects me.  He is never ashamed to call me His child. I can always rest in Him and more than that, He can handle who I am—Dippity-do and all.  He’s got this.

Posted in Family, food, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, wisdom

Tripe and Gossip

The one who reveals secrets is a constant gossip; avoid someone with a big mouth.” Proverbs 20:19

The more I chewed the bigger it got.  I have lots of food memories from growing up.  First you need to remember that I was born in the South and folks from the South have a whole different way of eating.  And trust me…that means it was good…mostly.  I can remember fried chicken Sunday dinners with green beans and mashed potatoes…the kind that didn’t come from a box but from a real potato.  A lot of Sundays we had pot roast with those same yummy potatoes and green beans.

My mama made really good biscuits.  You can’t imagine how good they were hot out of the oven.  While we did occasionally have dessert we really didn’t need it.  We would just take one of mama’s biscuits, slather it with butter and then pour cane syrup all over it.  Shoot-that-thing! You don’t know good if you’ve never had homemade biscuits and syrup.  Now with all that said, there were a few things we had that were a bit—different.

I remember I decided to try something new with my peanut butter. It could have been that we were out of jelly but anyway I got the mayonnaise out of the refrigerator, smeared it on some bread and then loaded on the peanut butter.  Bam…just like that a new delicacy was born.  That became one of my favorites for years.  One day I had one and then got the stomach flu and well, we parted ways.

We didn’t have a whole lot of candy growing up and I’ve always had a sweet tooth.  Somewhere along the journey I discovered the sugar bowl.  Did you know you can get a teaspoon full of sugar and put it in your mouth and it tastes like a candy bar?  Well, it probably didn’t taste like a Snickers, but it was plenty sweet.  You know what they say, “Necessity is the mother of invention.”

School lunches were always an adventure.  There were deviled egg sandwiches (awesome), deviled egg sandwiches with potted meat mixed in (not so awesome), potted meat sandwiches without deviled eggs (yuk) and finally Vienna sausages (uh, well, somewhat good).  You just never knew what mom was going to put in the lunch bag.  My all-time favorite was pimento cheese.  To this day that is one of my favorites. And then there was—tripe.

Tripe wasn’t a lunch item, it was always for supper.  Some of you may not have discovered the wonder of tripe or even know what it is.  Well, for those of you who don’t know tripe is cow’s stomach.  Yup and let me just tell you it was an experience.  It always smelled great cooking but eating it was a real challenge.  Mama usually cut it up in pretty small pieces but you still had to get a sharp knife to get it down to bite size.  Now tripe was…chewy.  In fact, tripe was very chewy.  Which is why it never made it into the lunch bag—it took two hours to eat one small piece.  You see, the more you chewed it, the bigger it got! 

I’ve heard it said that celery is one of those negative calorie foods…it actually takes more calories to chew it and digest it than are in the food itself.  I think tripe must be one of those also.  In fact, I am sure there is a tripe diet somewhere out there.  You take a bite, chew for two hours and bam…lose two pounds.  Good, ole, tripe.  The supper of champions.

You do know that gossip is a lot like tripe don’t you?  You mutter a few words about your friend and before you know it, you have yourself a belly full of trouble. Those few hurtful words just get bigger and more hurtful each time they are repeated. Feelings get hurt, relationships are broken and talk about a belly ache…oh yeah.  While the Bible doesn’t say much about tripe it does say a lot about gossip.  One of my favorites is Proverbs 20:19, “The one who reveals secrets is a constant gossip; avoid someone with a big mouth.”  How’s that for being straight to the point?

One of the best ways to avoid gossip is to remember a couple of things.  If the person you are telling isn’t part of the problem…don’t tell them. Also, if you wouldn’t say something to a person’s face you shouldn’t share it behind their back.  Now the problem is, most of us just love a good piece of juicy gossip.  The Bible says, “A gossip’s words are like choice food that goes down to one’s innermost being.” That might be true but I know one more thing about tripe.  If it gets stuck in your throat you are in deep weeds.  That choice piece of gossip can get stuck too, and can cause heart breaking consequences.

Well, I gave up tripe a long time ago.  I guess I had enough when I was a kid.  I wish I could say I have totally given up gossip the same way.  I have found out given half-a-chance I can find myself saying, “Hey, did you hear…” and that tripe-like-sin is right back in my mouth.  We just need to be careful to keep it out of our mouth.  The good news is Jesus is more than willing to help if you ask.  He can handle all kind of things whether it be a tough piece of tripe stuck in the wrong place or a juicy piece of gossip right on your lips.  Just ask Him.  He will help cause He’s got …even this.