Posted in gratitude, Integrity, life, Military memories, Scripture, thankful

The Longest Day

 “But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, will teach you all things and remind you of everything I have told you.” John 14:26

It was more than the title for a movie.  One by one they are slipping away.  Who?  That generation newsman and author Tom Brokaw called the greatest generation.  This generation was born and lived through the Great Depression.  Their words and testimonies fill pages and pages of books and blogs.  Words like, “we were poor but didn’t know it” or like “we had nothing but each other…and that was more than enough” ring of their wisdom and courage.

But it would seem that living and surviving the great depression was just a warmup for their finest hour…that would begin with the bombing of Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. That day, the day that President Franklin Roosevelt said, “would live in infamy,” marked the start of our country’s direct involvement in World War II.  Before it was all over, almost four years later, America would see 1,076,245 causalities.  That number includes 291,557 combat dead, 113,842 who died from other causes and 670,840 wounded.

One Memorial Day I heard a phrase I had heard before but this time it seemed to shout at me.  It simply said, “Freedom isn’t free.”  As I listened that day, I was freshly amazed at this generation of men and women, 16.7 million of them, who served during World War II. They marched off, self-forgotten, to strange lands and places and many of them would never come home.  Like I said, I was amazed.

Today, June 6th, 2025, is the 81th anniversary of what has been called, “The Longest Day.” It was the day that thousands of soldiers, airmen and sailors, with thousands of ships and planes invaded Normandy, France to begin the retaking of Europe from the grip of Nazi Germany and the Axis powers.  The courage of those men who stormed those beaches is legendary.  Imagine with me small boats, called Higgins boats, riding the waves towards Normandy with shells exploding all around.  Imagine with me seeing many, too many, of these boats literally disappearing after taking a direct hit from enemy shells. Imagine knowing that each of these boats carried several dozen men.  Sacrifice. Courage. Amazing.

There probably are not words that can describe that day.  Films like, “The Longest Day” and “Saving Private Ryan” have tried to tell the story but though their efforts are valiant they always fall short.  That day, 6,603 Americans were killed, missing, or wounded. Imagine again, as officers knocked on doors and telegrams arrived, “The Defense Department regrets to inform you…” Freedom truly isn’t free.  I know we know but I only hope we won’t forget.  Yet in most minds, this observance of “The Longest Day” won’t garner a passing thought.

When the children of Israel of Old Testament fame were crossing over into the Promised Land, they were told to take twelve stones from the middle of the Jordan River.  The sole purpose of these stones was to remind them of the miracle and the day.  That way when years later and their memories were foggy, they had the stones to remind them.  I’m not sure what stone of reminder we need but it might be as simple as a visit to the cemetery and taking the time to READ the markers and stones of those who served.  It might be as simple as taking your kids with you to show them and teach them about sacrifice and courage.  Unfortunately, it may not be taught any place else.

December 7, 1941. June 6, 1944. These are only two dates of many that are worthy of remembrance…but they are a start. Jesus knew we would need help remembering about the things of God.  That is why He said, “But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and remind you of everything I have told you.” And who knows, perhaps that same Holy Spirit will help us remember to be grateful for the sacrifice others have made on our behalf.  In fact, I’m sure He will help because that is what He does best…help. Like everything else, I’m sure, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, gratitude, life, Memorial Day, Military memories, Scripture, thankful, travel, Uncategorized

Thank You, Mr. Charles

 “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13

It’s the way it ought to be.  Memorial Day several years ago found my wife and I on the road again.  That’s a good thing.  2020, as we all know, was a year with most travel shut down for a chunk of the year.  It was almost refreshing to spend time again waiting in line as hundreds of other travelers rediscovered the freedom to travel this great land.  It was busy because the COVID threat was thankfully in retreat, but it is also Memorial Day weekend…the traditional start of summer.  Smile.

As we were waiting to board, the announcer person at the desk announced that the boarding process would be starting in just a few minutes.  She let us know that there was going to be a “pecking” order for boarding.  Those with special needs and little children were allowed to board first, followed by the people who were what they called “Sky Priority” and what I would call, “the blessed.”  That group included the “First Class” folks as well as those in business class.  They would all be followed by the normal people in the main cabin.  But there was one more group of people who received special treatment…and boy, did they deserve it.

Right behind the people with special needs and small children came this announcement, “Those individuals on active duty in the United States Armed Forces are invited to board now.”  Yup…that’s right.  Delta did it right.  They gave special honor to those serving their country and the reason was simple…they deserved it.  And they don’t do it just on Memorial Day weekend—they do it all the time—because they deserve it all the time.  Every day, but especially today, we have the opportunity to do what Delta does on every flight—honor those who are serving our country.  And we can take it one step farther—we can honor those who have served.  I know that is normally reserved for Veteran’s Day, but can we thank them enough for all they have done for all of us?

My wife stumbled upon a story on Facebook that struck especially close to home…literally.  We contacted them and received permission to share their post. It goes like this, “When Mr. Charles & Ms. Debbie, with C.D. Ives logging company, were working on clearing trees at a job site north of Naylor in Lanier County, Georgia, between GA Highway 135 & U.S. Highway 221, Mr. Charles noticed the A-10s from Moody Air Force Base would regularly fly over where he was clearing trees; sometimes they would get so close he could easily make out the pilot in the cockpit!”

“He figured since he could see them, maybe they’d be able to see a message letting them know his appreciation for what they do, using only what he had on hand at his job site: trees! Mr. Charles positioned them to spell out “THANKS USAF,” painting them in red, white, & blue paint so they stand out a little better.” The author went on to say, “Hopefully, the pilots have been able to catch a glimpse of this “Thank You” from Mr. Charles & Ms. Debbie as they fly over!”  (credit: 05.30.21 The Georgia Photography Fanatic, https://www.facebook.com/thegeorgiaphotographyfanatic)  I can only add, how appropriate and how thoughtful.

Like I said, it strikes close to home.  You see, Judy was raised right there in that South Georgia area and me, well, I spent four years stationed at Moody Air Force Base myself and yes, it was there that I met Judy and we began our life together.  I am grateful that Mr. Charles took it upon himself to honor those pilots at Moody and I hope they got the message.  But the question is this, “What can we do right now, today, to honor those who paid the ultimate price and for those who served or are serving?”

Well, there will be multiple opportunities.  Maybe your community will have a Memorial Day service or parade today.  Why not attend?  Why not take your children and let them experience the honor afforded those who gave their life that we could be free?  Why not visit a local cemetery and look for graves that mark the deceased as a member of the armed forces?  Why not stop and say thanks to someone you know who served their country in one of the armed forces?  Why not thank God for your freedom and their sacrifice?  Why not make a point today to find a way to say, “Thank-you?”

One of the most powerful love verses in the Bible says, “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” The Book makes it clear that those who die for another or even those willing to die for others are worthy of our honor and respect.  So, let’s all enjoy the time with family and friends today.  Have a burger and a dog but make it a priority to remember what it is all about—honoring those who laid their life on the line that we could be free.  Remembering their sacrifice and remembering the awesome love and power of our great God will also help us remember that no matter what, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, life, Military memories, pride, Scripture, Southern born, travel, Trials

Busted Again!

 “Do not love the world [its ways, its principles] or the things in the world. For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride in one’s possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world.” 1 John 2:15-16

You know, some folks are just slow learners.  My time in Minot was short—from October to April—but filled with memories.  The base was about 20 miles from town and only a couple of guys had cars. We would load up and drive into town at negative twenty degrees with all the windows down to play “freeze out.” We would see how long we could stand the cold.   The radio would be blaring John Denver’s “Take Me Home Country Roads.”  Hey, there wasn’t a lot to do—especially in Minot in the dead of winter.

So, as a southern boy, this cold weather stuff was all new to me.  Some things I just couldn’t get the hang of.  One of those was walking on ice.  Now I had been walking since I was about 18 months old.  The difference was up in Minot you must learn to walk on ice.  The winter of 1972-73 was a great opportunity to do so. I was able to go home for Christmas. I was dreaming of a green and not white Christmas.  Up until that time it had been cold, but we had very little snow.  That was kinda unusual—especially for Minot.

Well, while I was home for Christmas they had a whopper snow —and I’m not talking about Burger King.  Something like two feet of snow fell.  But what happened after the snow was chilling—literally.  It melted…all of it.  Somehow it got well above freezing for a week or so which melted the snow and then it happened.  The temperature plunged to below zero and stayed there.  Forever.

What was left behind were vast sheets of ice.  Everywhere you looked or walked there was ice.  I didn’t have a car which meant I had to walk to and from work.  So, I would put on my arctic parka, my arctic gloves, pull my arctic hood up and take a hike. I would walk one way going and another way coming.  Going to work was not a deal.  I managed to make it without falling…or at least not multiple times.  Going home?  Well, that’s a different story.

About halfway there I would have to walk around the corner of a building.  So, off I go.  I get to this corner and not paying attention, stepped onto a sheet of ice. Bam.  In two seconds flat—I was flat on my back.  Because of the parka nothing was damaged except my pride.  Score one for the ice.  Day two.  I’m walking home and come to the exact same spot.  I eye the ice and ever so carefully step on it and in two seconds flat I am flat on my back.  Bummer.  I crawl back upright, making sure no one is watching, and press on.

Day three. I get to the corner for the third time.  I know the ice is there.  In fact, we’ve become close friends.  I gingerly step on the ice…nothing happens.  As I take my second step and in two seconds -I am flat on my back.  Excuse me?  Is this Ground Hog Day or what?  Anyway, for the third time I crawl off the ice and head on back to the dorm.  By this time more than my pride was bruised.

I know what you are thinking. Why don’t you take a different path?  Why did you keep doing the same thing and expecting different results?  The answer is…I don’t have a clue.  Thought I could beat it? Thought it was closer? Thought if I fell enough, I would break the ice before it broke me?  I don’t know.  I was stubborn. I was a slow learner. I was doing the same thing and expecting different results.

Isn’t that what we do in life?  Don’t we journey along and come to a decision point and fall flat? Don’t we sometimes do it again on Day 2? Day 3?  You know, walking on ice is one thing.  However, flirting with disaster, the kind that has big regrets and bigger consequences, is another. God knows this and tells us not to fall in love with the world—its ways, its principles, its stuff.  Remember your momma saying, don’t date someone you don’t want to marry?  Same principle.  Flirt with the world, date the world and you’ll end up marrying the world.

John—the guy in the Bible—says in 1 John 2:16, “For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride in one’s possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world.” When you say, “I do” with the world you end up with twins—regrets and consequences. Life is harder…a lot harder.  Harder than walking on ice.

So, I finally did take a different route. They say that three times is a charm.  It took me four, but I did learn.  On day four…I didn’t fall. I didn’t fall on day five either. In fact, I don’t remember falling again.  Why? I didn’t go that way. I chose a different route and that route, that path, had different consequences—better consequences.

They also say that three strikes and you are out.  True in baseball but fortunately it isn’t true with God. He keeps picking us up, dusting us off and helping us find the right path—one with less ice.  When I fell, I would quickly look to make sure no one was watching.  When we fall in life, we can rest assured Someone is watching…our Abba Father.  He’s got is His eye on us. So, be careful out there it can be icy but don’t worry, you aren’t alone.  He’s always there. Rest in Him knowing He will be there to pick you up.  After all, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, life, Military memories, pride, Scripture, spiritual battles

Losing Lift

 “Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death? Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord.” Romans 7:24-25

It was something I thought I would never see.  From 1977 to 1980 my wife Judy and I were stationed with the Air Force in Germany.  I have said it so many times, but it was a great time.  We were young, still newly married and had the opportunity to see and experience so much of Europe.  It was good duty too.  I was assigned to a small base and provided administrative support for one of the flying squadrons.  We flew the OV-10—a twin engine forward air control aircraft.  There weren’t many enlisted guys in the squadron and the pilots treated us like family.

Obviously, safety, and in particular flight safety, was always a big deal.  I remember right before I left to come back to the States, we were on a long streak of accident free flying.  The commander was also due to rotate back to the States in just a couple of weeks.  He said, “The best gift you guys can give me is to remain accident free.” A couple of days later, however, one of our planes crashed.

What I thought I would never see, and certainly didn’t want to see, was another crash.  One day, I was standing in my office talking to one of the pilots about who knows what.  I was looking out the window as we chatted and saw an aircraft, not one of ours but a F-4 fighter jet, literally falling out of the sky.  I blurted out to the pilot I was talking to, “That plane is going to crash.”  I remember his response to this day, “That’s not something to joke about.”  I wasn’t joking.  Less than half a mile from where we were this massive fighter aircraft did literally fall from the sky.  The pilot ejected but sadly did not survive.  It was devastating.  I can still see the explosion in my mind.

As it turns out the plane wasn’t trying to land and where he crashed had nothing to do with our base.  He was flying over the area, lost airworthiness, and went into what is called a flat spin.  When this happens, planes can lose their lift and they crash.  You see, to stay in the air, planes must have the lift provided by forward movement and air moving in and around their wings.  When that doesn’t happen, planes fall from the sky.

It not only happens to planes…it happens to people…like me…like you.  Though out my life I would occasionally do the healthy thing.  I would begin eating right and exercising five or six times a week. The results came quickly and were amazing.  After three months I had my blood checked and the results were what my physician called, “beautiful.”  Literally every critical number was in the normal range. It was amazing…it was awesome.  And then, I lost my lift.

The best I can tell my success began my downfall. After winning so big, I wasn’t sure what was next.  It was like the day after Christmas.  The win was in the bag, and I lost my drive to keep on winning.  Over time I returned to my poor eating habits and slowly, or perhaps not so slowly, things began to change…for the worse.  Like I said, “When you lose your lift…you crash.”

I was thinking about this before I began writing this and decided I really should share my story.  Maybe I can help keep someone from crashing.  And, it really doesn’t have to be about health…it can be anything.  The bottom line is when we lose our momentum, our drive, our lift in any area of our lives—spiritually, emotionally, or physically—we are in danger of crashing.  Marriages can go south; God can become a distant relative and we can become emotionally disconnected.  We need to be careful.

Paul, the guy who wrote a chunk of what we call the New Testament, knew about losing lift and I think he knew about crashing too.  He asked the question, “Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death?”  Can you identify with that question?  Honestly, I can.  But it is the answer that gives me hope.  It is the answer that can give you hope.  He writes, “Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord.”  Bam!  There you go.  The answer is our faith and trust in Jesus.

I’m glad he didn’t just say to try harder or maybe pull yourself up by your bootstraps.  I’m glad he confirmed what I know and what you might know.  The answer is Jesus.  He doesn’t just limit His help to obvious God stuff—He is there always and in every way.  He loves me when I get it right and when I don’t.  And no matter what, spiritually, emotionally, or physically He goes with He—never condemning and always encouraging.  I like that.  It’s good to know that “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in food, friends, Grace, life, Military memories, Scripture

Little Jack Horner

 “Do not judge others, and you will not be judged.”Matthew 7:1

Little Jack Horner may have sat in a corner…but this time he didn’t. It was the late seventies, and we were living in Western Germany.  I was serving in the Air Force and my wife Judy and I were having the time of our lives.  We were still newlyweds and every day, and everything seemed to be an adventure.  Even church stuff.  God was and is a big part of our lives and that was true way back then too.  We were blessed to have a great church family in Germany, and you might say we were up to our eyes involved.  One of the things that we would do is go and visit people who came to church and visited us.

On one occasion a lady came to visit our church and we decided to return the favor.  Her name was Carol Horner and she served in the Army.  She was married but her husband didn’t do the church thing.  He had a thing…it just wasn’t church.  One Tuesday night we decided that we would go see Carol.  Virtually no one had a phone in Germany, and this was long before cell phones so when we went to see someone, it was usually…unannounced.  It’s funny but that sounds so strange today but back then it’s kind of what you did.

Carol and her stay-at-home husband lived on our base so that Tuesday we headed out to find their apartment.  The housing on base consisted of several large multi-floor buildings.  We found the building, which stairwell and away we went.  After climbing several flights of stairs, we found ourselves at Carol’s door.  We knocked.  Soon we could hear the sound of feet, so we at least knew someone was home.  Well, the door opened, a little, and there was the face of Carol.  We were bubbly and she was surprised…and, uh, a little apprehensive.

She knew who we were, we had met at church, and we told her we were just out visiting folks and would like to come in for a few minutes.  She hesitated, suggesting maybe it wasn’t a good time, but Mr. and Mrs. Bubbles, politely pressed the cause and after a minute or two Carol explained her hesitation.  It turns out that her husband Jack, was, uh, a nudist and actually, at that moment he was sitting in the living room…eating spaghetti and dressed only with a dinner napkin. I know you are thinking this couldn’t be true…but it was.  And, what happened next, is too.

We were persistent that night, maybe too persistent, and suggested maybe Jack would be willing to get dressed so we could visit.  She checked and he finally agreed to lay a dish towel across his lap. We went in to find, Jack, who definitely was not little, with a small dish towel on his lap, joyfully eating a plate full of spaghetti on a TV tray. Though he didn’t miss a beat…we might have.  Have you ever heard about the white elephant in the room?  Well, that night there was definitely a white elephant in the room.

We chatted, ok, we tried to chat with Carol as Jack smacked and slurped his spaghetti down.  It seems he did make one or two comments about his choice of clothing, or lack thereof, but other than that he ignored us as we tried to return the favor.  Well, we didn’t stay too long and soon it was time to call it a night.  We told Jack it was good to meet him and was grateful he didn’t stand up as we left.  Carol showed us to the door and there she told us that she was grateful that we came by.  I’m sure because of the circumstances she didn’t get a lot of company. We had a short prayer with her and said goodnight.

As I remember she became a regular attender at our church and no, Jack, never did.  I’m sure he couldn’t decide what to wear. Smile.  Two things were true about that night.  First, of all the visits Judy and I have made through the years, nothing ever came close to Jack Horner and his towel.  To this day, he occasionally comes up in our conversation when we have spaghetti.  Second, though, is something more important.  Somehow, some way, Judy and I got something right that night.  We managed not to judge Jack and to make Carol feel welcomed and appreciated. 

Being humans, we don’t always get it right, do we?  But that night reminds me that people are just people and regardless of how crazy it might seem, we just need to leave the judging to the Judge and leave the stones on the ground where they belong. Jesus said that if we are wise enough not to judge we will find that people are less likely to judge us.  That’s good advice.  I don’t remember Judy and I gossiping about Jack.  I don’t believe there were harsh whispers as we descended the stairs but there probably were some smiles and giggles. You see, you just never know what you will find on a Tuesday night. As I think of Jack sitting in his chair that night, I am reminded of one thing. No matter what, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in communication, friends, life, Military memories, Scripture, thankful, travel, Trials

Zwei or Saar

 “A person’s steps are established by the Lord, and He takes pleasure in his way.” Psalm 37:23

We were so close and yet so far away. It was 1977 and we were brand new at our new assignment in Germany. We had purchased a 1967 Volkswagen station wagon which turned out to have virtually no floorboards just floor mats.  We found that out the first time it rained.  It rained a lot in Germany.  Anyway we named him Herman.  He wasn’t fast, he wasn’t pretty–but he would go…most of the time.

Our friends that lived a couple of hours away invited to come over and spend the weekend with them.  We lived in Sambach which wasn’t too far from Sembach where I worked.  You can probably already tell that things can get confusing in Germany in a hurry.  So, we had been in country about 10 days, we had our international driver’s license which meant I paid someone $15 dollars, and we had Herman.  Not to sound like Gilligan’s Island but we started out on a three hour trip…a three hour trip.

We were heading to a small city called  Zweibrucken.  That is where our friends lived.  The Air Force had a small airbase there where he worked and since Zweibrucken means “two bridges” I assume they had those too.  It was simple.  Get on this highway with your car named Herman and with no floorboards drive about an hour or so, take a left and head toward Zweibrucken.  Not a deal. Right? Well, not so fast.

Soon Judy and I traveling along, excited for a new adventure.  We had no traveling experience in Germany, no maps, it is raining (remember it does that a lot in Germany) so we had miniature swimming pools for floorboards and the antique wipers are just keeping up with the rain.  The directions were simple: drive for about an hour, take a left and head for Zweibruken. We probably should have written that down.

After about an hour we came to a large directional sign.  It said Saarbrucken straight ahead.  Well, Mr. “I’m a man who doesn’t get lost” looked at his sweet, dear “Don’t look at me, I’ve never been out the country before either” wife and said, “Uh was that Saarbrucken we were looking for?”  You know, if you’ve seen one “brucken” you’ve seen them all.

Well, I couldn’t remember, she couldn’t remember so we kept driving and it kept raining.  We drove for quite a while and suddenly found ourselves in Saarbrucken which happens to be on the French border. We also found ourselves on the verge of having to speak French. Since we didn’t speak German either we decided we had better turn around before we started an international incident.

I did a quick turn around and headed back the way we came.  We were disoriented, discouraged and disappointed.  We drove back about 30 miles or so and there we saw a sign:  Zweibruken.  Hallelujah.  I remembered, she remembered—sweet Zweibruken. We exited off of the autobahn (which is German for you can drive fast if you don’t drive a Herman) and as we exit we see our friend just pulling away.  He had come to look for us and was just about to give up.  We saw him, he saw us.  We laughed, we embraced. We had made it.  “Guten Tag.” Guten Tag, indeed!

We still laugh about that crazy story.  Two young people who didn’t know a thing about driving in a foreign country, taking off in a too old Volkswagen station wagon with swimming pools for floor boards, getting lost and can’t ask directions. Yup, life was good. Now if I remember right I was probably frustrated, a bit mad, discouraged and discombobulated. I’m not exactly sure what that means but I am sure I felt it that day.  But the bottom line is we had fun. Even then we laughed at the hot mess we were in.  It was a story we would tell our kids one day.  Well, we have and it still brings a smile to our lips.

I know there is so much craziness today.  So many missteps, so many “I don’t knows,” so many “Saars” when it should have been a “Zwei.” But remember this.  There is a God that is writing this story called your life and He is a God who loves a good adventure.  And the things that we count as disruptions just might be one of His great adventures purposely put in your path for your ultimate good and pleasure.  David in Psalm 37:23 writes, “The steps of a good person are ordered [directed, planned] by the Lord.  And He delights in that path.”  In other words, God has a plan and it is a plan that He has written just for you.

I know I sometimes question my GPS when it takes me down some crazy roads to save a minute or two but I am learning to just enjoy the journey.  Even today, Judy and I love to drive around and try to get lost.  One of my friends said, “Come on down to Pope County.  I can get you lost.”  I might just take him up on it.  I’ll have my trusty GPS and my friend so it should be a great adventure.  I’ll just go along for the ride and rest in Him.  After all, He’s got this.  Guten Tag (Oh…by the way that means Good day!) Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, life, Military memories, priorities, Trials, wisdom

It’s A New…

 “Yet true godliness with contentment is itself great wealth. After all, we brought nothing with us when we came into the world, and we can’t take anything with us when we leave it.” 1 Timothy 6:6-7

They say confession is good for the soul so here goes. When it comes to buying cars…I just seem to be inherently dumb.  Naw…that’s probably too strong.  I think I am just unwise.  My first new car was a 1973 Volkswagen Super Beetle. I was so proud of that car. It was bright orange with a black racing stripe, and I had even jazzed it up some.  I added exhaust headers, dual point ignition, a two-barrel carburetor, and an under-dash AM-FM radio, cassette player.  Shoot that thing…it was so cool.  And then…I got bored.  Here’s a warning.  When you get bored with your car, do not under any circumstances go to a car lot.  Well, I did and even when the credit union said no, the nice man at the Toyota dealership said yes.  My payments went from $83.00 per month to $135.00 per month which doesn’t sound bad till you realize I was in the Air Force and only making about $400 a month.

I think that whole deal turned out pretty good.  When I met my wife Judy, I think she was impressed with my 5-speed Toyota Corona SE and later when we got orders for Germany, we were able to sell it and just about break even.  I wish I could tell you I learned my lesson but sometimes, and especially when it comes to cars, I am just a slow learner.  And when the car bug bites—Katie bar the door.  The year was 2001.  We were just beginning our ministry at a new church and getting settled into a new house and a new town.  On September 11th of that year the terrorists knocked down the twin towers in New York and our country was stunned.  To boost the economy President Bush encouraged the carmakers to get America back on the road again.  He also encouraged people to go out and buy a new car.  So, I did. Twice.

I asked Judy what she thought about buying a car and not surprisingly she was totally against it.  However, we had money in the bank from selling our previous home, and so I went to the dealership and came home with a new car.  It was brand-new Pontiac Grand Am and I got it with 2% financing.  “Yay” I said…for a while.  After owning the car for about six months or so, I noticed there was whine when the air conditioning was on.  They checked it out and said it was normal.  Well, I knew it wasn’t normal, so I went back…several times.  Finally, the guy who sold me the car in the first place told me to come and he would “work something out.”  This isn’t going to end well, is it?

I went in and I just assumed he was going to give me full credit for the car since in my eyes it was “defective.”  Well, he didn’t and by this time I was up to my eyeballs with “I.Want.It-itis.”  Yup, I traded my new car in, took a big loss, and bought another new car…one that was a little bigger and, of course, a little more expensive.  It was a bad deal from start to finish.  I felt so bad about it, and the fact I was in debt, that I depleted a chunk of our savings to go ahead and pay it off.  I thought it would make me feel better.  It didn’t.  I told you I was a slow learner.

The really, sad, sad part of this story is that about a year later I wrecked the car and because of depreciation I could only replace it with an older used car.  But…there is light at the end of this tunnel.  You see, that was almost twenty years ago and while I have bought and sold cars several times…I never again made the mistake of buying a new car.  I discovered that you could buy a four or five year old car for about half the price of a new one.  How about that?  I also relearned the important principle of BBQ grills. A long time ago, I heard a guy teaching and he said, “Don’t look for a new BBQ grill unless you are ready to buy a new grill.”  That’s good advice, and it applies to many areas of life.

There’s a lot to be said for contentment. The Bible says, “True godliness with contentment is itself great wealth. After all, we brought nothing with us when we came into the world, and we can’t take anything with us when we leave it.” One Sunday I was speaking at the church where I pastord and reached this conclusion.  I said, “We need to learn two things.  First, Jesus is enough. Second, the world is never enough.”  That alone is worth your time in reading this story.

The truth is the things that really bring satisfaction can’t be bought in a store…they are free.  And at the top of that list is a relationship with Creator God.  That will cost you nothing because Jesus paid that price a long time ago.  If you seek satisfaction anywhere else, it will cost you and it just won’t satisfy.  Someone said there is a God shaped hole in the life of every man, woman, and child.  We can try and stuff other things in that hole, but it will always fall short.

So, I hope my car misadventures will help you learn and avoid the hard way.  And I hope you will give God a try.  Remember, don’t confuse church and religion with a relationship with God.  One of the things that makes my life worth living is that He is my Dearest Daddy, and He loves me 100%—100% of the time.  He will never leave me…even when I make those less than wise decisions.  And when I fail and fall…He is always there with the assurance that “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, heaven, life, Military memories, Scripture, thankful, travel

Home is Better

 “He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” And the one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making everything new!” Revelation 21:4-5

Who would have known?  In 1977, my wife Judy and I packed up our stuff and moved to Germany. She was just 19 and I was 23.  It wasn’t a sudden urge we had—it was courtesy of the Air Force.  When we had been married about seven months, we received an assignment to move to Europe.  We were excited about moving there, but also realized Germany was 4,657 miles from everything that was familiar to us.  We were off on a great adventure, without cell phones or internet!

We loved it.  Our part of Germany was filled with history and beautiful landscapes.  Rich forests and small hills and mountains framed every view.  And honestly, it was a little like home.  While it was true that the local folks spoke a different language, there was enough English sprinkled around that we were able to get by.  We even learned a little (and I do mean a little) German to help.  We drove our cars on the right side of the road,  just like home (unlike the Brits), we could drink the water just like home, we had stores kinda like home, and we even had a church…just like home.  But it wasn’t…home.

Throughout the three years we were there, it was a big deal when it came time for friends to “ship” back to the United States.  Our church even had a special song titled, “Goodbye, World, Goodbye” that we sang every time someone left to go back to the states.  They were bitter-sweet moments.  We would miss them, but we knew where they were going. They were going home.

There was one thing that we would do, every once in a while, to remind us of home.  It might seem strange, but it wasn’t to us.  Germany was a place of great food but once again…it wasn’t home.  I found out that not many Germans eat grits.  Imagine that. But they did share one thing that was purely American—McDonald’s.  Located downtown in a large city, not too far from where we lived, was a McDonald’s very much like ours back home. And when we could afford it, which wasn’t often, we would go and have a taste of home.  Each bite of the burgers and fries said, “Remember home.”  Each bite said, “This place is good but remember, it’s not home.”

Well, one day it was our turn to go…home.  It was our turn to hear, “Goodbye, World, Goodbye” and know it was for us.  It was our turn to leave there and go home and as soon as we were home, we knew instantly that while “there” was very good—it wasn’t home. Home was better.  Home was home.

Jesus followers need to remember that very important truth—Home is better—Home is home.  This world is good.  We enjoy life with friends and family, and there is a McDonald’s on every corner.  But what used to remind us of home now reminds us that we are not there…yet. Even with all its warts and imperfections, God has done a great job providing us a temporary location to live out our days, but remember, Home is going to be—better.  The Bible tells me that Heaven is a place where there is no more pain, suffering, sickness or sorrow.  No hospitals, no nursing homes, and no funeral homes.  Simply put—the former things are gone, and everything will be new.  Home will be better.

I know I speak for Judy too when I say that our time in Germany was three of our favorite years together. I also know I speak for her when I say home was, and home is, better. Life here is good but one day, it will be my turn, your turn, to find out that Home is better.  When it came time to leave Germany and go home, the Air Force paid for our ticket and I am glad to let you know that our ticket to Home is paid for too—by God’s Son, Jesus Christ. All we have to do is accept it and when we do—life here gets better and Home is thrown in. When we accept it, we find out that God loves to give us a “McDonald’s” or two, here and there, just to remind us of Home…to remind us that till we get there, He is with us and that at every turn, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, Integrity, life, Military memories, pride, Scripture

It Was 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 viewed 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” looks.  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, in 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 41 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 we 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.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in communication, Integrity, life, Military memories, Scripture, Trials

Mr. B

 “Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord will personally go ahead of you. He will be with you; He will neither fail you nor abandon you.” Deuteronomy 31:8

So, here’s the story. A long time ago, my wife and I were living in Warrensburg, Missouri, renting a house in a neighborhood that was still being built. We had just come back from three years in Germany with the Air Force, and we were still getting used to married life—only four years in. We had this big dream of owning our own home, but it wasn’t exactly a great time for buying. Interest rates were sky-high at around 18%, and inflation was crazy. But then, a little opportunity came along.

The guy behind the neighborhood development was a rough-around-the-edges contractor named Mr. B. We ran into him a few times as he was working on building the homes, and he brought up this government program that could help us build a house. They’d pay half the interest, which, honestly, sounded amazing compared to that 18%. So, long story short, we ended up getting approved, and soon we had a piece of land on Hilltop Drive with our names on it. We even added a few upgrades like a bay window and a fireplace in the basement. It cost a little extra, but they were worth it.

Looking back, I’m not sure if it was the smartest financial move for us, but it worked out in the end (that’s another story). It did cause some financial stress though, so to help, Mr. B suggested I do some “work equity.” He said I could do some of the labor for the house in exchange for a reduced price. Let me tell you, that was no easy task. I ended up doing all the painting and staining—inside and out. For a guy who’d never done anything like that, it was a big challenge.

But there was another way I could help ease the financial strain. Mr. B told me I could work for him on Saturdays, doing basic labor, and he’d pay me $15 an hour. Now, back in 1983, that was pretty good money, so I said yes. At the time, I was working in the Air Force full-time, pastoring a small church for $50 a week, and now I was going to work for Mr. B on Saturdays. Definitely stepping way out of my comfort zone.

Saturday came, and the job site was just down the street from our rental house. We were putting up heavy metal forms to pour the basement for a new house. We had to lift these things into place and hammer pins to hold them together. I was pretty nervous, but aside from dropping my hammer once, it went alright. We finished up around 4:00 PM, just in time for me to get home and start working on a sermon for the next day. Exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover it—I’m sure that sermon was a little on the short side!

The next week, I ran into Mr. B and he handed me my check. I had worked eight hours, so based on the $15 an hour he promised, I was expecting a check for about $120. But when I opened it, I found a check for only $40 and some change. I was pretty shocked. I asked him, “Mr. B, is this right?” He assured me it was. I said, “But you said $15 an hour…” He chuckled and replied, “Oh, I was just kidding about that. We actually pay $5 an hour.” Yeah, I wasn’t laughing. Honestly, I felt pretty betrayed. He promised one thing, and then gave me something totally different. That was the last Saturday I worked for Mr. B.

Have you ever felt that way? Like you’ve been promised something, and then it didn’t happen? Ever feel that way about God? It’s tough when people let us down, right? But it’s even harder when it feels like God doesn’t keep His promises. Here’s what I’ve learned over the years. When we feel betrayed by God or like He’s not coming through, it’s usually because we’ve misunderstood or misapplied His Word. The Bible is full of promises, but not all of them are for us. For example, the promises made to Abraham are not promises made to me. A lot of times, people—preachers, teachers, even regular folks—make promises on God’s behalf that He never actually made. And when those promises don’t come true, we end up blaming God, and that’s not right.

I’ve been following Jesus for over 50 years now, and I can tell you one thing: He has never let me down. Sure, things haven’t always gone the way I wanted, or the way I expected, but He’s never broken His promises to me. He is faithful and trustworthy. I can say that with confidence—He is a good God, and He’s good at being God. You can trust Him.

So, while Mr. B’s “little joke” was a tough lesson, it taught me something valuable. His heart was good, but his sense of humor? Not so much. But I’m so grateful that my Father God has a perfect heart, and His plans for me are perfect. No matter what I face, I know it’s for my good and His glory—and that’s enough for me. I can face today knowing, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne