Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, life, loving others, prayer, pride, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Choosing the Light

And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil.” John 3:19

I’ve waited and waited.  Finally, the sunrise is finally getting to a respectable time. As a “you’ve got to be kidding me” early riser, I am so glad that Mr. Sun has decided to join me…a little. The sunrise is finally down to a respectable 6:30 am which is a whole lot more respectable than 7:20 am or later.  Of course, thanks to Daylight Savings Time we will lose that hour in just about ten days.  I know, I know it stays light later in the evening but try telling that to my early genes.

Anyway, I noticed the other morning that when I looked toward the west it was still stone cold dark. I knew it was getting to be time for Mr. Sun to say good morning, but he sure seemed to be taking his time.  A few minutes later and finally I could see that the darkness had slowly turned to a very dusky gray.  It was going to happen again…God was sending us a new day.  For whatever reason, I went out of my room to our bedroom which had an east-facing window.  Imagine my surprise to discover the eastern sky was much, much lighter than the western sky. 

While all that was expected that day it just seemed the difference was amazing.  Looking one way, to the west, it seemed daylight was many long minutes away.  Turn the other way, to the east, and daylight was happening right then.  The bottom line was it all depended on which way you were going to look.  At least for a few minutes, I got to choose light vs darkness.  Soon it was all over but for that moment—it mattered, and I chose to look east.

I am certain many times we have that same choice to make in our lives.  We get to choose whether to look to the darkness or to the light.  We get to choose to embrace the light or plunge into the darkness.  I know for me that morning, the choice was very easy, but can we be honest?  Too often I choose to muddle in the darkness.  When I do, it mars my day and sometimes my life, with negativity and grumble bumbles.  Usually, on those days, I’m not happy with anything or anyone—including myself.

Jesus said in the New Testament part of the Bible that men naturally love darkness more than light and, as always, He was right.  But what I find out is I choose that darkness not out of love but out of habit.  Some of us are wired a little weird but that is certainly not an excuse.  What if we started a new habit and determined to look through the eyes of Jesus?  After all, he always saw things through the lens of His Father.  What if we simply made our default view toward the sunrise and not the darkness of the west.  I have a feeling it would be a game changer.

So, tomorrow morning if you are an early riser, remember this simple lesson.  Remember that in most every situation there is a choice—toward the light or toward the darkness. It is our call.  It is our choice.  Jesus declared He was the light of the world and, well, it just makes sense we should seek Him…every time. Why? Well, the reason is simple. It helps us remember that “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Baits, Hooks, and Bill

A friend is always loyal, and a brother is born to help in time of need.” Proverbs 17:17

His name was Bill, and he was an investor—in people.  When Judy and I landed in Warrensburg, Missouri via God, and the Air Force we began attending First Baptist Church.  For us, God and the church thing was an all-in deal so soon we were singing in the choir, attending church, and going to Sunday School. Our Bible Study teachers were Bill and Edith Hensley, and they were a class act.  The time we spend in their class was rich in every way imaginable.  We build friendships and did life together.  It seemed that whether you were in the Air Force like I was or a professor at the local university or a lawyer, it just didn’t matter.  We were pilgrims journeying with each other and with Jesus and it was good.

Bill was a lawyer by trade and a disciple-maker by faith.  He believed in Jesus, believed the Bible, and believed in people—including me.  I’m not sure how it happened but he kinda adopted me and began investing in me by teaching me about fishing, hunting, and growing in my faith.  He loved to fish.  He would often call the house and say, “What time is it?”  Now it might be time to wash the car or time to mow the grass, but I knew what the answer was.  “It’s time to go fishing” I would reply and in about 30 minutes I would be in his pickup truck heading to some pond to see if we could catch a bass or two.

That was the case one late summer evening.  We had the boat out in a small pond.  Things had been slow, and the sun was just about to call it a day.  Bill suggested that I make a cast or two more toward the shore.  He pointed out a log that just broke the surface about three feet from land.  I gave the rod a swing and amazingly that ole hula-popper landed right up next to that log.  A hula-popper is a soft lure that sounds just like a wounded frog when you pull up on the rod.  I pulled up on the rod and heard the familiar gurgling sound.  Nothing happened.

I gave it another tug and two things happened.  First there was a small splashing sound and second the lure stopped dead in the water.  At first, I thought I had snagged the log but I soon realized I had hooked a pretty good size bass.  Now since it was late summer the water was a bit cool so there wasn’t this epic battle—you know, man against whale.  Instead, it was like reeling in a big piece of wood.  Of course, there was a tug here or there but whatever was on the other end of the rod wasn’t up for much of a fight.

Before long the fish was beside the boat and Bill got the net and bought him on board.  It turned out to be a good-sized fish.  It was a 6.5-pound largemouth bass.  I couldn’t believe it,  Bill couldn’t believe it and I am pretty sure the bass couldn’t believe it either.  Well, we snapped a couple of pictures and headed for shore with the bass safely in the fish well.  I asked Bill if I should have him mounted but he said no because I was sure to catch a bigger one someday in the future.  Well, I haven’t and honestly, I believe he knew (because I didn’t know) my Air Force salary couldn’t handle the cost.

Bill and I enjoyed many more fishing trips before I finally moved out of the area and over into Southern Illinois.  I slowly lost touch with Bill and Edith and now they are both in heaven.  I am sure they heard, “well done.”  I can only imagine how many lives they touched.  I do know that night I learned a couple of good lessons.

The first lesson came thanks to that old bass.  I wonder how many “almost” nights he had laid up by that log.  You don’t get to be 6.5 pounds in a few nights or by making bad decisions.  So many a night there he lay and each of those nights he was wise enough to say no when a fisherman came by with a tempting bait.  For some reason that night was different.  It wasn’t that I was an expert, and it wasn’t that the bait seemed that real.  More than likely he just let his guard down and bit the bait.  That night at the cost of his life he learned a valuable lesson.  As Bob Goff puts it, “It is always better to resist the bait than struggle on the hook.”  Now that is good advice. So, in these days that take way too much energy just to do life, don’t get too lax and make a really bad decision.  Resist the bait.

The other lesson was from Bill…the man who invested his time, his wisdom and even some of his resources in a young Air Force sergeant. Bill was simply a good man who loved Jesus.  He was busy but he wasn’t too busy to pour his life into mine.  The Bible says, “A friend is always loyal, and a brother is born to help in time of need.” Bill was that to me and I know that I am a better person for knowing him.

In days like these when it seems the chief topic is survival don’t get so self-absorbed that you can’t invest in the folks in your world.  There are plenty of people like me who need someone a little wiser to speak into their lives.  Why not be that voice?  That voice may be whispering, “Don’t take the bait” or it might be encouraging someone to trust in the One who is worthy…to trust and rest in the God who made it all.  I think Bill was one of the ones who spoke into my life and helped me believe that I could trust God because, “He’s got this.”  Thanks, Bill. 

Bro. Dewayne

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

The Old Clock

And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day.” Genesis 3:8

I have a clock.  Well, the truth of the matter is I have lots of clocks.  Throughout my adult life, starting in about 1978, I have had this love affair with things that go, “tick-tock.” Then, somewhere along the way, I even began to love clocks that didn’t.  That doesn’t mean they were broken it just means they were electric.  One of the things that I love about clocks is their tenacity—like the Energizer Bunny—they just keep going.  I have some “tick-tock” clocks that are well over a hundred years old, and they are still ticking and tocking. Something that is almost equally impressive as that are some of the electric clocks that are almost that old and they are still humming along.

And that brings up the clock.  About thirty years ago, I was at a friend’s antique shop on a Sunday afternoon.  I had been there many times before.  As I browsed around, I came across a camel back electric mantle clock.  I instantly recognized it…not because I had seen it before, but one like it.  It was a General Electric, Model 414, Westminster Chiming clock.  The reason I knew it so well was because my grandfather and grandmother had one like it and every time I went to their house, I listened to the song of that clock.  And this clock sounded just like it because—it was.

The song transported me back in time…to a different era when life was slower and to some extent easier.  Well, the clock in the antique shop that day found a new home.  It went first to 319 E. Poplar Street in Cobden and followed me to 217 W. Poplar Street in Harrisburg.  For the last 35 years or so, it has filled the place where it sat with song.  I loved it. Well, about two months ago, I heard something and realized it was coming from my beloved friend.

A very distinct noise, more than a hum but less than a grind, was coming from the clock.  The long and short of it is the old motor, after more than sixty years, was showing signs of death.  When the noise started, I immediately did some research and landed at a site of a man who works on this kind of motor…a Telechron.  I told him what my songbird was doing, and the prognosis was grim.  He said the noise meant that the motor was nearing the end of its life, and the only answer was to replace the motor.

Well since the clock was still working and because the rebuilt motor was far from inexpensive, I decided to try and live with the clock…noise or not.  But I need to be honest and let you know it is not going well.  Now instead of hearing and loving the beloved song, all I can hear is the sounds of a motor dying…getting louder by the day.  And the problem is the sound of death has drowned out the song of life.  Oh, the dear old clock is still singing its song but for some reason all I can hear is the noise it is making…not the song it is singing.

Somehow, almost unintentionally, I have decided to listen to the noise and not the song.  While the noise is louder it is not louder than the ticking.  The noise only wins the day because I choose to listen to it.  Try as I may, when I walk into the room, the first thing I hear is death and not life.  I wonder, actually I know, that this happens in our lives.  In a world filled with wonder and life, if we are not careful, we only hear a world heading south. Instead of hearing a baby’s first cry or a robin’s spring song, we choose to listen to brokenness, loss, and death.

I know I have a choice with the old clock, I am just struggling to choose wisely.  It must have been that way for Adam and Eve when God came to the garden each day to visit.  Genesis, the first book in the Old Testament part of the Bible, says that they would hear God walking in the garden in the cool of the day.  It was a sound they used to run to but now it had caused them to run away.  Sin, their sin, had gotten in the way.  If you find yourself running from what you used to run to, maybe just maybe, something has gotten in the way. Perhaps you are hearing the noise of dying instead of the song of living.

The answer for the old clock is a new motor and the answer for us is new heart or maybe a new or adjusted perspective.  If you’ve not discovered the joy of believing in God, check Him out.  You will find a song you’re sure to like.  For some of us, it might be an adjustment to our hearing, choosing to hear the song and not the noise.  Regardless, we have one confident assurance…He loves us and cares for us and no matter what, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Live Your Dreams – Vivez Votre Reves

But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” Matthew 6:33

It was an old message for today.  My home office is my man-cave.  It is a great place to work and a great place to remember.  It is filled, and this is not a metaphor, with things that remind me of some of the adventures that my wife Judy and I have been on.  It also contains things that are a part of my life story…things from my childhood, things from my Air Force days, and things about my Jesus journey. And this last one is what this Grits message is about.

So, there is a 16×20 picture that hangs over my man-cave size television.  The picture was taken I’m guessing ten years ago.  The location is Mali, West Africa and more specifically under a tree in a small village in the bush (or wilderness).  In the picture are eight people—five are Africans and three are American.  We had been called there because one of the African men believed he was demon possessed and he wanted the American missionaries to pray for him. So, we did.

After we prayed, we assured him that our God loved him dearly and wanted to set him free not just from a demon but from the sin that held him in bondage.  He was grateful for the prayer, and we were grateful for the opportunity to pray.  So, in this picture, one of the African men had on a bright yellow t shirt.  On the back of the shirt, and facing the camera, was something written in French. It said, “Vivez Votre Reves!” Well, all these years I never thought about what that shirt said.

The other morning, I was chatting with my Dearest Daddy about what He might want Judy and me to do in the coming and remaining days of our lives. And without really thinking, I glanced up at the picture that I have seen a thousand times and pondered, wondering what the shirt said. Well, I got my iPad out and opened Google Translator and typed in the French phrase. Within a half a second, I had my answer both to what the shirt said and maybe part of what God wants us to do.  The translated message on the shirt said, “Live Your Dreams.”

Well, I was amazed.  To me it was one of those God moments when I was praying, and God gave me a quick answer. Now in case you are wondering, I am one of those people who believes that whatever Judy and I dream should have God written on it.  In this case, God seemed to be saying, “Follow Me, dare to dream and dare to trust Me.” Wow.  I think that is pretty awesome.  The bottom-line, as always, is that while we may not have the details about tomorrow, we do know the One who holds our tomorrow…and He can be trusted.  No matter what, no matter when, we have the confident assurance that, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

Listen Up

And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it.” Isaiah 30:21

Sometimes it can be fun. So, one of the gifts I’ve received during my “longer than some” journey on earth is a body that keeps giving me new adventures—new experiences.  Different parts, at different times, keep on surprising me.  For instance, my knees on most days still work well…except for when they don’t.  Some days when I climb or descend the stairs, they let me know they aren’t as young as they used to be.  My doctor told me twenty years ago that I might have to have a knee replacement or two at some point.  Uh, while that point is not now, I think if I squint my eyes just right, I can see it down the road.

My least favorite gift is my hearing—or rather the lack of it.  While my right ear, I call him “old faithful,” is still plugging along quite well, my left ear is struggling.  There are certain things that I just don’t hear.  One of those things is Judy. For some reason I have a hard time hearing her.  The bottom line is sometime with somethings I am just deaf.  And other times, well, I just don’t hear clearly.

The other day someone sent me a little story that I thought was genuinely funny and it certainly makes this point.  It goes like this.  Mrs. Gladys Dunn was a pillar of her church. She visited the sick, she greeted newcomers, she served on every committee, and substituted for the organist when necessary.  After services one day, she noticed a stranger leaving the church.  She went up to introduce herself.  Extending her hand, she said, “I’m Gladys Dunn.” The stranger replied, “Me too! That was the longest sermon I’ve ever heard.” Smile!

Whether that was a hearing issue or not it was certainly worth telling.  All I know is there are things I hear clearly; some I hear incorrectly (and trust me that can be funny) and some I don’t hear at all.  Of those three—not hearing at all can be the most frustrating. Now one more thing.  With the hearing things I struggle to hear—if I make an extra effort, I can almost always make it out.  But that means really, really paying attention…just like when God is talking to…us.

Unlike our physical hearing, our spiritual hearing rarely requires a hearing aid, it usually just needs for us to focus. Whether it is God speaking through His Word, or a sermon or maybe through a circumstance, we need to train ourselves to pay attention.  You see, God never speaks needlessly.  Everything He sends our way is worthy of our close attention for we never know, we.never.know, when He is going to send something very important to us.  Just like missing the warning bell at a railroad crossing can lead to disaster, so can missing the Word of God.

So let me encourage you to “listen up” and listen clearly.  In the case of our story, it was humorous but in the case of life, and when the speaker is the Father, Son, or Holy Spirit, well it is rarely something to laugh about.  The best way to sharpen your hearing spiritually is to get in a quiet place reading His Word and have a chat with Him.  Soon, you will be recognizing His voice like never before.  And one of the most important things He will tell you is, “I’ve got this.”

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

A Leap of Faith

Once I was young, and now I am old. Yet I have never seen the godly abandoned or their children begging for bread.” Psalm 37:25

It was a one and only, life changing, Valentine’s Day. It was 1982…forty-two years ago.  My wife Judy and I were enjoying life and enjoying our still “new to us” daughter who had just turned one.  And that isn’t all.  My wife Judy was expecting our second child due that August.  As Gomer Pyle used to say, “Surprise, surprise, surprise.”  But there was more…a lot more.  You see, about a month before that Valentine’s Day, the pastor where we attended church had asked me to speak on Men’s Day.  In case you’re wondering, Men’s Day in a Baptist Church is where the men step and do something.  It could be singing in the choir or, like me, speaking.  Yup, the pastor asked me to speak that day and I said yes.

That wasn’t a total surprise.  The previous year he had asked me to share my Jesus story…how I met and responded to faith in Jesus.  Shortly after that he asked me a curious question.  “Dewayne,” he said, “have you ever thought about becoming a pastor?”  Well, the truth was it had crossed my mind, but not seriously. After all, I had a great career going in the Air Force and with another baby on the way, well, it wasn’t on my radar. So, I sat down and wrote something that I thought would work and I guess it did. But from that moment on, something was restless in my soul.  I was afraid if I ever tried this speaking thing it might start something and it did.

For the next couple of weeks, things kinda rolled around in my soul. Something was stirring but even I was surprised by what that thing was.  So, that Valentine’s Day, Judy and I did what we always did on Sunday…go to church. I’m sure there were cards exchanged and most likely a gift or two, but it was a normal, “get up and go to church” Sunday.  We went to our Bible study class (which remains one of our favorite memories…great friends getting together).

After class we headed to worship.  We were sitting in our “normal” spot…center section, five or six rows back.  We sang, we prayed, we gave, and then we sat down to listen…and apparently, God was talking…to me.  At the end of the service, we always had a time for people to go forward and pray or perhaps make some sort of commitment. Well, without any warning (God does that sometimes), an unexpected passion or urgency came over me and I found myself leaving my seat and heading toward my pastor.  I took him by the hand and told him God was calling me to be a vocational pastor.  I don’t believe he was shocked, but I can tell you I was.  I knew this meant a total life change and career change.  It still amazes me as I think about it.

Well, there’s a lot to the story but that decision led me to leave the Air Force after 12 years of service and jump headlong into the pool of faith and trusting God.  Today, February 14th, marks that day forty-two years ago.  You might be wondering, “So, Dewayne, how did that work for you?”  Well, there have been bumps, but I want to tell you that God has been so faithful to us. We have had the ride of our lives, and it has been incredible. There’s a verse in the Bible where the author says that he had never seen someone who followed God forsaken or begging for bread.  Well, that’s a broad statement and it is certainly needs to be taken as a principle and not a promise, but I can tell you God has watched over us these four plus  decades.

Valentine’s Day is and should be a special day.  I know it was probably a ploy by Hallmark to make a ton of money.  I know it can be a blessing for those who remember and a bane for those who forget.  But for me, it is a time to remember the day I jumped…and God caught me. You might know that in the military if you serve 20 years you can retire handsomely. You may have done the math and concluded that if I had served eight more years, I would have been “fixed” for life.  You ask, “Do you every regret getting out and losing “all of that?”  My brother-in-law asked that one time and my answer was, “Absolutely, 100%, no.”  I wouldn’t have missed this story for the world. Oh, and the best part is…my story and yours are still being written.  You might wonder why I can end each story with, “He’s got this.” Well, the truth is, He’s proved it over and over again.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

This is the Day

If we are unfaithful, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny who He is.” 2 Timothy 2:13

It was Saturday morning.  I like Saturdays…especially early in the morning.  I usually get up somewhere between 4.30am and 5.00am.  There is no alarm and no reason…it is just something that I do and have done for years.  I immediately head to my trusty Keurig for a cup of inspiration and then watch a few minutes of the Weather Channel before heading over to the farm show.  I know, I am not a farmer but for some reason it is part of my Saturday routine.  They do have a weather report that is like the old fashion days…you know, not a lot of fancy stuff just some weather maps and a few graphics. After that comes some time with God. I read, we talk and well, it’s just a great way to start any day but especially…Saturday.

So, this past Saturday, after the normal routines were done, I decided to make another cup of coffee and take it outside. It was still early…you know that time when night is still lingering but it is on the run. It’s a mixture of grays with just a hint of promise starting to peek in the East.  As I walked out onto our driveway, I looked to my left, to the east, and saw a bit of that promise.  From where I was standing, I could see the Christian Church that sits over on the next block.  They have those frosted, glass block windows that were all the rage in the 1940’s. One of those windows was capturing the first rays of that day’s sun…and it was beautiful.

Reflecting on the window and filling the whole window, was a radiant color that can only be described as brilliant orange.  It was that morning’s sun, just rising above the horizon, saying, “Good Morning.”  As I looked, a verse from the Old Testament part of the Jewish and Christian Bibles, came to my mind.  It says, “This is the day that the Lord has made…I will…that is, I choose…to rejoice and be glad in it.  And, honestly, given the reflection in the glass, that might not be too difficult.

Well, I wondered if I walked north to my front yard, could I see more of the impending sunrise. So, I started walking, carefully avoiding all the small rocks on the sidewalk that could hurt my bare feet and spoil the moment.  When I got to the front yard, there was indeed a small glimpse and this time it was the Methodist Church’s turn to be a part of the show.  This church sits just down the street from our house.  It is a majestic, old building made of brick with large columns. It could easily be a church planted on a city square somewhere down south.

And there it was…the early morning sun.  Sandwiched between two massive columns, that same brilliant orange, pierced the gray…and it was beautiful. It was so beautiful; I spoke out loud the words that had earlier come to my mind.  “This is the day that the Lord has made…I will…that is, I choose…to rejoice and be glad in it.”  It was a declaration, but it also was a celebration.  I was celebrating the faithfulness of my Dearest Daddy who had blessed me with a brilliant taste of the new day.  It.Was.Good.

It was about then that I made a connection.  It was good and so is He.  I mean, I had no idea what the day was going to hold, but if He is good then I just believed that regardless of what came, He was going to bring good from it. There is another verse that says that in the Bible, but that morning, I owned it…I believed it…by faith.  I was deciding that, regardless of that day’s circumstances, they were not going to dictate my opinion of God.  Instead, my faith in the God Who caused the sun to rise would.

Another verse popped up on my radar and it was one that I had decided to use when I shared at church on Sunday.  It was written by Paul, a guy God used to write a chunk of the New Testament and he said, “If we are unfaithful, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny who He is.” Even when I am not faithful, even when I blow it—He will be faithful.  Why? It’s just who He is, and He cannot deny Who He is.

So, today, regardless of what comes, I hope you will remember that no matter what, God is going to be faithful.  You have His word on it.  It doesn’t mean the day is guaranteed to be perfect.  It doesn’t mean that there won’t be a bump or a tragedy.  It just means that no matter what…no.matter.what…He will be there, He will be faithful and, oh yes, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Backyard Cars

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

Sometimes it seemed like a parking lot.  We have all seen it, but I experienced it.  As I have often said, there were certain benefits to growing up in an urban county.  We weren’t country like horses and cows, but we were country like room to run, places to play and cars in the backyard.  What?  Yup. I know we have all seen yards where there are old cars hanging around the yard.  I know each time I drive to Paducah down Route 145 in Southern Illinois I pass a house with an old Capri parked in the yard…permanently.  Over the years that I have seen it, weeds and green algae have slowly grown over it.  I’m not sure about the story behind the old Capri, but it is there year after year.

Over the years I lived at 6008 Carlton Road, we had several cars parked in our backyard.  When my granddaddy Taylor died, we inherited his old Pontiac Sedan.  I’m not sure what year it was but it was old…probably the late forties if I were to guess.  I knew at least for a while it was a runner, but later on it became a sitter.  Regardless, it was a great place to play and hide in a good game of hide and seek.  This past week I was converting some old family movies to digital so we could watch them again.  There is one simply titled, Alston and Leslie Taylor and their children – 1960’s.  In the middle of the video there was my daddy, and he was working on the old Pontiac.  It was good to see him again.  It reminded me what a good man he was.

I have a feeling that there was a reason that he was working on granddaddy’s Pontiac.  You see I remember that our main driver, a 1957 Plymouth, blew an engine so it was parked under the tree in the backyard.  So, I think Daddy may have been working on the Pontiac so we would have something that would get us from here to there.  The Plymouth sat there for quite a while.  Motors were expensive and it would be a while before Momma and Daddy could scrape the money together to buy a rebuilt one.  I know they eventually did, but until then it was the old Pontiac.

And then there was the Sunbeam.  My brother Lee bought a car from somebody, and it was quite unusual.  It was a British made car and it almost had that James Bond allure about it.  I was trying to think how to describe it and simply put, it was cool.  Well, it was cool until it quit running.  You see, certain cars, and especially British ones, are hard to work on and expensive to repair.  Well, somewhere along the road (no pun intended) it died.  Rather than bury it, we just parked it in the backyard where it became one of the original storage sheds.  We slowly stuffed it to the gills with—stuff.

Well, eventually the Plymouth got fixed, the Pontiac got hauled off and the Sunbeam went somewhere, and our backyard looked a little less like a small junkyard and more like a garden.  Daddy had a love for growing roses, and I have to admit they looked a lot better than the old cars that adorned our yard for a season.  Thinking back, I wonder what people thought about the old-World War II barracks turned house with a car or two parked in the backyard.  I wonder if they, like me, like you, were tempted to judge the people that lived there?

I wonder if they ever pondered why the house needed painting most of the time or why there were old junk cars sitting in the yard?  I wonder if they thought the people who lived there were lazy or unkept?  Well, in the case of 6008 Carlton Road they would have been wrong in both cases.  My Daddy was a hard worker making sure the folks under his care had food and clothes.  He worked until his heart said no, and even then, he found a job as a security guard.  Momma worked hard taking care of us.  She poured her life into our lives and made sure there was supper on the table and clean clothes to wear.  I would suppose they both were too busy pulling it all together to worry what people thought.

I know this.  When I drive south to Paducah and pass that old house with the overgrown Capri in the front yard, it won’t be thoughts of judgement that pass through my mind. Instead, I will remember two people who worked hard to make life possible for me, and my brothers and sisters.  And then I will remember that until I have walked in someone’s shoes, I have no business looking down on anyone.  Most folks don’t wake up some morning and just decide to have their world go south.  Sometimes it just happens.  But what I do know is that Jesus, the Man a lot of us have committed to follow, wouldn’t cast a rock, rather He would lend a hand. 

One day a couple of Jesus followers were going to church, and they passed by a man who couldn’t walk.  The guy was begging and that was the honorable thing to do given there was no security net for help in those days.  He looked up and the two Jesus guys looked down.  They said, “You know, we don’t have any money, but we do have an answer.  And right there, right then, they reached down and in the name of Jesus they healed the guy.  He got up, did a little dance and they all went to church together. How about that?  So, who can you help today?  What house have you driven by so many times before but perhaps today you need to stop? I know in a world of risks, that can be hard but hey, I know Someone who will help make it happen.  His name is Jesus and He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne 

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

Divine Appointments

Brothers, if you have any word of encouragement for the people, come and give it.” Acts 13:15b

It was a divine appointment.  I love when things happen—things that you can spot a mile away as a Divine appointment.  Yesterday I had one and it literally changed the trajectory of my day.  So, I got out of bed, had some coffee and Jesus time and then headed downstairs.  It was a pretty good Jesus time and I could tell. It helped me decide to do the right thing and exercise and make my wife’s day by playing pickle ball. By the way, in case you are wondering, that part was fun even though my body thought otherwise.  Now, back to the God appointment.

I chatted with my wife Judy for a while and told her that I was going walking. She thought that was a good idea.  So, I put on my walking clothes and prepared to head out the door.  I was going to walk to the park, make a lap around the lake and come back. It’s one of my standard and favorite treks. But then it happened. I paused and told Judy, “I think I will walk out on the bike trail and check out the repairs they did on the bridge.” Trust me, the repairs were a good thing—some of the holes were big enough for a small elephant to fall through.  Anyway…so I did. I walked out to the bridge (great job repair guys) and then headed back toward the car and that is where the God moment happened.

As I neared my car, a guy in a truck stopped and rolled down his window. I walked over to the truck, and he began to tell me that he was a regular reader of Grits and how much he appreciated them.  That made my day…but then it got better.  He talked about how he and his girlfriend did devotions together and she would read a devotional and then they would read Grits together.  He was amazed at how often the devotion and Grits would work together to help them through the day.  How cool is that?  But wait…the story went on.  He shared how that he was on a journey to get closer to God and how he often wanted to fix life himself and how hard that was.  I was just nodding my head because that is something I know personally to be true.

You see, I am a fixer too and often, despite my best intentions—I fail, and I was able to share that with my friend. Getting it right can be hard—but then, there is my Dearest Daddy, my Best Friend and the Holy Spirit and they are all helping me, helping us and nudging me and us in the right direction.  I love that.  God (Father, Son Spirit—the Three in One) is working on my behalf.  So quickly, the Divine appointment was over and I’m pretty sure I can say two things.  First, my friend the Grits reader left a little more encouraged. Check.  Second, this Grits writer felt the same.  It made my day…not just that he was a reader, but that Grits was helping him on his journey.  That was incredible.

So, there you go.  A simple decision to walk, to choose the repaired bridge over the park and to walk at the exact time my friend was driving by, they all led to God doing His sweet work.  All of that just confirms what you and I probably know—that no matter what—no matter when—He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, Integrity, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Fog Free Living

My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life.” John 10:10

Well, it was one hot mess.  Well, actually, that is not exactly accurate.  Last year, right before Christmas, we had this arctic blast come from up north and give us a week or so of bone chilling temperatures.  We were all so glad when it moved on.  This year it happened again but not before Christmas but several weeks after.  Once again, the window up north opened, and the cold air poured south like water in an empty bucket.  The temperatures weren’t quite as cold but trust me there isn’t a big difference between three degrees and three degrees below zero.  What was different was the cold lingered a few days longer.  Slowly, the warm earth succumbed, and it too became cold.  Chapter two.

So, when the air did finally move on the ground remained cold…or at least colder than the air and that led to the hot mess…metaphorically speaking.  What followed was several days of yucky, icky days.  It was still quite cold, upper thirties—low forties, misty and rainy and ok, let’s just say it—miserable.  So, with the air warmer than the ground, the inevitable happened.  Fog. Now we all know there is fog and then there is FOG.  Well, this mess definitely deserved the capital letters.  It was the kind of fog that you see in those scary mystery movies—you know, the one filmed in Transylvania or in the backwoods of some remote place where banjos play.  Anyway, it really was a mess. Well, after several days, things equalized, and the fog went wherever used fog goes. While it was still misty and still cloudy at least you could see your hand in front of your face.

This was one of those things you could see coming (great play on words) and the reason is simple. When cold ground meets warm moist air with not much wind—you are probably going to get fog—and usually lots of it.  And guess what? What is true there is also true in principle.  When we get sloppy in faith and allow some sin junk to exist, things are going to get foggy, get a little more difficult…more challenging. It is just inevitable. Remember, when the air and ground are about the same temperature…well, the fog is held at bay.  And, when we choose to keep our faith and actions balanced—we usually keep the fog—the mess—at bay too. And when that happens—you guessed it—better circumstances and less regrets and that is always a good thing.

So, we can’t control the weather.  That is bigger than even The Weather Channel—that is up to the Master of the Wind and the creator of it all—our Dearest Daddy.  But when we control our actions and attitudes, that keeps the “fog monster” at bay. Jesus said, “If you love Me, you will keep My commandments.”  That verse isn’t just about keeping rules—it is about showing our love for the One who loves us most AND living and enjoying life here as He intended.  Remember He also said, “I have come that you may have life—and have it to the fullest” and that spiritually means fog free living.  Need a little help with the weather in your life? Just determine that you are going to leave it to Him.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne