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

Santa Claus Came to Town

But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8

It is one of my favorite Christmas memories.  I wish I could tell you the lengths that my Daddy and Momma would go to make sure we had a wonderful Christmas.  Daddy had a good job, but with a bunch of kids, money was always tight.  If I were guessing, we were probably at the bottom of the middle class.  But somehow, they always managed to make sure every Christmas was a fairytale. One year stands out.

I was in the sixth grade and by now I had moved into the world of “nonbelievers”—if you get my drift.  I remember the year Momma told me I could stay up later with the adults.  I guess you could say I graduated.  That night, we visited, talked, and ate.  I’m sure Momma and some of the girls were in the kitchen preparing for Christmas Day.  At about 11:00 pm, I remember Momma telling me that perhaps I should go ahead and go to bed.  “Maybe,” she said, “Santa Claus might still be coming to town.”  Ho, Ho, Ho.

Since it was so late, I didn’t put up much of a fuss.  I never was much of a person to stay up late—until I started dating that is.  Smile.  So, off to bed I went.  There were no visions of sugar drops dancing in my head—like I said, I was a “non-believer”.  Our house was an old, former World War II barracks and was long and narrow.  At one end was the kitchen, then a small dining room, next a living room with the bathroom and two small bedrooms, a breezeway and finally a garage turned bedroom.  That is where I slept.

The next morning, sometime early, I got up.  I’m not sure if someone woke me up or it was just time.  I wandered through the breezeway into the living room where several of the family were sitting.  I backed up to the old two-burner oil stove and warmed up a little. After just a few minutes, Daddy said, “Dewayne, go get me a cup of coffee.”  Coffee was a big deal around the Taylor house, so it certainly was not an unusual request.  I lingered just a moment more, savoring the warmth of the stove before heading to the kitchen.

As I left the living room and entered the dining room, I almost stumbled on something.  There parked right in the middle of the walkway to the kitchen was the most incredible red, English-racer bicycle you have ever seen.  Now, keep in mind, this was back when bikes were all the rage—unlike today when if it doesn’t have batteries or require electricity, it’s not even worth mentioning.  It was beautiful. The frame was bright, metallic red, the fenders were chrome, it had three speeds, hand brakes and, wait for it, a generator light.

I was amazed.  Not in all my years could I have ever imagined such an extravagant gift. Somewhere there is a home video that my brother shot of the grand moment.  I was like someone who had just won the lottery—and from my perspective—I had.  I petted it, hugged everyone one I could find, threw on some clothes and went off into the darkness with my new English racer.  And that generator light—oh yes, it lit the way.  And if that wasn’t enough, keep in mind this was in North Florida, it was warm enough to ride—even early in the morning.

Like I said, my parents went way out of their way to gift us at Christmas.  Things might have been lean during the year but at Christmas, they pulled out the stops.  I had an idea how they did it.  Saving was not practical on such a limited budget, but they would get one of those loans from a finance company and then pay it off throughout the year.  It was so sacrificial.  I know I have many things to be grateful for from my parents, but the lengths they went to, so we could have Christmas, touches my heart to this day.  I know it probably didn’t make financial sense, but they loved us that much.

I have another parent who did something that didn’t make sense either…and it involved Christmas and Easter. That would be my Heavenly Father. Knowing the world needed a rescue, a redemption, He sent His only Son into this broken world as a baby just so He could grow up and then give Himself to a Roman cross—just for us.  Paul, the guy God used to write a bunch of the New Testament, said it this way, “But God demonstrated His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” While we were still broken, still messed up, unloving and unappreciative, Jesus died for us.  Nope, it made no sense but that is what I love about God.  I know sometimes He allows things that I don’t understand…like when I pray for someone to be healed and it just doesn’t work out like I want. But to know that He loved me enough to create Christmas and Easter—well, that’s just amazing.

Remember this Christmas day, to be grateful for the sacrifices made on your behalf by the people who touch our lives. I know for some that might be difficult.  But try and find the good that is lurking somewhere out there.  But first of all, and most of all, be sure and thank God for the greatest gift ever—His own Son and His sacrifice, that we can be forgiven and look forward to being in heaven one day.  Of course, having God as your Dearest Daddy means you get the Gift that keeps on giving.  He walks with us every day and through everything, side by side, hand in hand, and we have the grand assurance that no matter what—He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

The Old 410

Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed.” Romans 13:11

We were the three little ones.  Momma and Daddy either by plan or accident ended up with a big family.  They had five reasonably close together and then took a break before finishing up the family with three more.  The three little ones consisted of two girls and one boy.  I was the boy and as the baby in the family, I was the best.  They called me “Precious” because I was.  Smile.

The story isn’t about that, but I love stirring the pot.  The way it worked out at Christmas, the five older kids entered the world of nonbelievers long before we three.  I’m sure because one of my sister-in-laws said she changed my diapers.  But for the three little ones, Christmas was a magical world of believing and receiving.

On Christmas Eve night, we three were put into one bedroom.  The main part of the house only had two bedrooms, so it seemed logical.  About 8:00 pm, Momma and Daddy would put us in the bedroom to “go to sleep” but of course that never happened.  We would lie in bed, whispering and giggling.  At some point, we would begin hearing strange noises coming from the living room.  I remember one year my sister asked for a “chord organ.” Imagine our excitement when, as we were “asleep,” we begin to hear musical sounds coming through the thin walls.  We couldn’t wait.  We would holler out and tell lies.  We would say, “We have to go to the bathroom.”  Of course, we didn’t, but we would do anything to “sneak a peek.”

Eventually, and it varied from year to year, we would doze off to sleep.  And yes, there were visions of sugar plums dancing in our heads. I am sure we woke up several times throughout the night to check the clock and it was always too early.  But we would know when it was time to get up.  The “410” would tell us.  You see my Daddy owned an old single shot 410 shotgun and every year that became our alarm clock.  Daddy, or one of the older brothers, would open the backdoor of the breezeway, stick the gun out and let her go.  The window where we were sleeping was right beside that door, so we had no problem hearing old Bessie when the time came. And trust me when the gun went off, we were up and running.

The door would fly open, and we would turn right into the living room and there would be a wonderland of toys and presents.  Our stockings would be stuffed to overflowing and we, well, we were amazed.  As we sifted through the piles of gifts and as the piles of used wrapping paper grew taller, it was heaven—at least to the three little ones.  I remember my sister-in-law, the same one that changed my diapers, took on the responsibility of going through all that paper to make sure some tiny, but important, part didn’t get accidentally thrown out.

The “410” became an heirloom in the family and my oldest brother became the proud owner. Last year, in an incredible act of generosity, he gave it to me and this year, once again, she will send out her wakeup call. She has killed her fair share of squirrels but the most important thing, in my opinion, was that she let us know it was time for Christmas—time to get up. I think that is one thing I have learned through and since COVID. You might say it was a “410” of sorts.  All the crazy circumstances seemed to send a message loud and clear that it was time for some changes.  It was time for new priorities.  It was time to make time for the things that matter, like family, and time to let go of a lot of stuff. It was time to make everyday matter because for too many—there wouldn’t be another day.

Hopefully, and I think the jury is still out, these days will be remembered as a time when a lot of people discovered or rediscovered God. A time that, for the first time, many could call Him Father.  Hopefully, and I also think the jury is still out, it will be remembered as a time that the church rediscovered what it was supposed to be and do.  Maybe it will be known as a time when the church stopped being a building at a certain address and became a people who still met in a building but then left to touch the lives of hurting people.  A “410” of sorts that heralded the Good News of God’s love.

The old “410” let us three little ones know it was time to wake up and the Bible says it is time for the church to do the same thing.  It says that we Jesus followers should know the time, that the hour has come for us to wake from sleep. The reason? Our salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed. In other words—wake up sleepy head—it is Christmas morning—time to rise and shine.  Rise and shine—that sometimes is easier said than done but I have a suspicion that with His help—we can shine for Him—letting others know loud and clear that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, food, friends, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, thankful

Chocolate Delight

Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” Psalm 37:4

It is rapidly becoming one of my favorite desserts.  Recently we had our annual deacon’s fellowship on Sunday evening.  While I was ordained a deacon a long time ago, I wasn’t there in that capacity. I was there because I have the privilege of working alongside this great group of men as the pastor of our church.  Our fellowship consists of a load of storytelling, some bordering on stretching the truth like a good fishing story, and of course a boatload of good food. Among that food was a smaller boatload of food called “desserts” and among those was something called chocolate delight. Mmmm.

What is chocolate delight, you ask?  Well, it is a layered masterpiece that starts with a crust (of some sort—and I’ve never had a bad one). That is followed by two more layers of heaven, and I’ve seen them interchanged—cream cheese, whipped and sweetened (someone say hallelujah) and a layer of chocolate pudding.  Then, there is an additional layer of cool whip or whipped cream and finally some sprinkling, like grated chocolate.  It is so cool, so light and oh so yummy.

Then, on the Wednesday after Sunday, we had a big fellowship at our church. It is called, “Extreme Christmas” and it consists of a wonderful meal and then some great homestyle entertainment—all provided by the church family. I love it because it reminds me of days gone by when the heart was more important than perfection. Well, before the show was the meal and there were three long tables of desserts—each one from someone’s kitchen and let me just tell you we have some fine kitchens and cooks in our church.  And there it was—not one but a couple of dishes of chocolate delight and they were delightful.

Now let me tell you another thing I like about this dessert. The flavor can be changed by simply changing one of the layers. You know, lemon instead of chocolate, butterscotch instead of lemon or maybe strawberry instead of butterscotch. It turns out the flavor of the delight can be changed anytime, and different flavors favor different people.  The beauty of this is you can choose your delight. Choose.Your.Delight!

What’s true in desserts is also true in life.  We can choose what delights our lives, our souls. I was reading a devotion today and the writer used one of my favorite verses.  Tucked away in the Old Testament part of the Bible in Psalms, it says, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” In other words, just like the chocolate flavors the dessert, let the flavor of your life be the Lord and trust me, when He is the flavor of your life, life will be sweeter.

When the verse says He will give you the desires of your heart, that doesn’t mean you have a blank check.  It does mean that when the Lord becomes our delight then His desires become our desires and His desires are always, always, best for us. So let me encourage you to find your delight in the Lord and I think you will find that He is better than the best dessert you have ever tasted. You will find out that His, “I’ve got this” is exactly what you needed.  Bro. Dewayne

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

Just Like Papa

And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.” Hebrews 10:24

It is one of my favorite pictures.  It was more than a few years ago when Blake and Sarah were stationed in Savanah, Georgia.  He was serving in the United States Army, and they were one of thousands of families who make the sacrifice to go where they are sent and do what they are called to do.  Now, of all the places the Army can sent a family, Savanah was good duty.  The oldest city in Georgia and located in the Southeastern side of Georgia it is rich in heritage and about 25 miles from the beach.  Not bad.

Well, one day Judy suggested we should go down and see them.  Let’s see…family, grits, history, and pralines (in case you don’t know they are a crisp or semi-crisp candy typically consisting of butter, brown sugar, and pecans. You need to try them.) Yup…sounds like a great idea.  We load up the van and off we go.  It’s about an eleven-hour drive and we broke it up into two days because we are not as young as we used to be and to us the journey is part of the adventure.

When we arrive in Savanah, there are the usual “big hellos” and “what’s happening?” Soon after we arrive, come the next two big questions—what are we going to eat and where do we want to go?  We decided to go to the historic downtown.  If you have never been to Savanah, it is hard to describe this special part of the city.  It is a series of parks, literally block after block, filled with trees, flowers, monuments, and fountains.  Oh, and there is a Five Guys Burgers and Fries nearby.  It can’t get any better. It’s like the Southern part of heaven.

After three or four blocks of strolling I decided it was time to sit down.  I wandered over to an empty park bench to sit a spell.  As I sometimes do, I lean back, locking my hands behind my head and just relaxing.  The birds are singing, the squirrels are playing, and life is good.  And then, it got better.  While I am sitting there doing my relaxing thing, my grandson Will, who was about four, comes over to the park bench and eyes his Papa. What he does next is recorded in a photograph and in my heart.

Will, with a bit of a struggle, climbs up and sits on the park bench.  He then gives me a look, raises his hands behind his head, locking his fingers.  He is imitating his Papa. He is doing what he sees me doing. Judy, with the keen eye of a great photographer and grandmother, snaps the picture.  It was only when we got home that we saw the true beauty of the picture.  Today, a copy sits on my desk in my home office, and it is indeed one of my treasures.

Will reminded me that day there are always people watching and looking and often imitating us.  Sometimes they are family, sometimes they are fellow church members, sometimes neighbors, sometimes even strangers.  But they are watching and looking to see what we are going to do, how we are going to react and then they do what we do. That might be the reason when one of Jesus’ disciples ran—then they all did. It might be why when one shouted “crucify Him,” they all did.  This picture makes me pause and ask, “What are my kids, my grandkids, my friends, the yet to be friends around me, seeing when they see me?”  What do they see at the park, in Wal-Mart and yes, on Facebook?  Hmmm.

The guy who wrote Hebrews says that we should consider—we should weigh carefully—how we may spur one another on toward love and good works.”  In other words, the things we do and say should cause others to do good—and not to do evil. We are to be beacons of light shining out into a dark, rough, and dangerous sea.  I guess I really love that picture because of the innocence of it all.  But what if, what if, that same picture showed me being hateful or rude.  What brings me joy would, and should, then bring tears.

Today is a new day.  I like new days.  New days say I get another chance.  Let’s use this day with the knowledge that people are watching and we get to show them the way to get it right—not wrong.  I know, it is a daunting task…but we have a great, big God pulling for us.  Just like I got to set an innocent example for Will, so Jesus has set a sterling example for us.  Just follow the leader and you can’t go wrong.  So, climb up on the bench, sit a spell and rest.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

Unclaimed and Expired

See what great love the Father has given us that we should be called God’s children—and we are!” 1 John 3:1

First it was the scale…today something else. One Tuesday I wrote a story about a dusty scale and a season of regret.  Strangely, today, I find myself writing a story that is a little similar but totally different.  It is a story about neglect and loss. You see, I have always been a frugal fellow.  Some would say I am a little tight, but I prefer frugal.  What is frugal?  Well, according to the Oxford Dictionary when someone is frugal it means that they are sparing or economical regarding money or food and I guess that describes me.

Let me explain.  When we go to a restaurant and look at the menu, my wife Judy is totally motivated by what sounds good.  I, on the other hand, am motivated by the value of the menu. In other words, I want good value for my money.  Someone (my wife) has taught me a lesson about money (by the way, not the most important one but a good lesson).  She told me, more than once, remember you can only spend it once.  Good advice and so I make my choice carefully.

Now would be a good time to remember that money is neutral (not good or bad) and that it is just a tool.  It must never become an idol and must never be more important that a whole lot of other things like, God, family, and people. Its ok if money is your friend but don’t make it your best friend…reserve that spot to the three I just listed.  Now, with all that said, the Bible tells us that we are to be good stewards of the things that God places in our hands. So being frugal is not only ok…it’s Biblical.

So, what is this story all about?  Well, it is sitting on my desk staring at me while I write.  It is a red Visa gift/debit card.  I’ve had it for quite a while…in fact too much of a while.  At one time it had a value of $25 but today it is worth the grand total of zero.  What happened?  Well, when I received it, either as a gift or for going to some conference, I filed it away for another time and well…that time never came.  The expiration date says it all—08/21.  Since I am writing this on 12/23—well, you can see the problem.  Expired. Over. Finished.  Oh, I went to the website just to check.  I mean surely there was an exception.  There wasn’t.

Turns out I’m in good company since nearly half (47 percent) of U.S. adults have at least one unused gift card, gift voucher or store credit, according to a new Bankrate study. And those gift cards aren’t small change, the average is $187 a person—a total value of $23 billion nationwide.

I think the thing I hate the worst about all of this is the fact that whether it was a gift or something I got at a conference—it was wasted. The only one who benefitted was the company that issued it and they didn’t even send me a letter thanking me for the contribution. And as we just read is that a sizable portion of gift cards are never redeemed.  How crazy is that?  The only thing I can think of that is crazier than that is how many people never redeem the greatest gift ever—God’s offer of forgiveness and eternal life.

I can’t do a thing about that little red card laying on my desk, but it is not too late for you to do something with God’s great, big Christmas gift—eternal life through His Son.  If you never have, while not receive that gift today? With open hands and heart, He is just waiting to give it to you.  And with that gift comes the confident assurance that your days of facing life alone are over.  From now on, you can believe and know that no matter what—He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Halftime

But you must not forget this one thing, dear friends: A day is like a thousand years to the Lord, and a thousand years is like a day.” 2 Peter 3:8

It was a Friday night and that meant football and that was a big deal.  Well, one Friday night I missed what would be called a supercharged game of the year. So, it may have been football night, but I had a wedding rehearsal.  As a pastor I have the privilege of presiding at various wedding ceremonies.  To ensure it comes off at least in a semblance of order, we have rehearsals.  Now that doesn’t guarantee anything it just sort of helps.  It’s like Proverbs 22:6 “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it.”  That is a great Biblical principle but not a promise.  So, rehearsals don’t guarantee a smooth wedding, but they do help and hence we have them.

So, the rehearsal and dinner ended about 7:50 pm or so. I walked outside and from the church I could hear the crowd–the excitement. It sure sounded like a good game.  Honestly, though, I was exhausted.  If you’ve never overseen a wedding rehearsal, you probably can’t identify with that statement. It is kind of like pushing cooked spaghetti or herding cats. As I climbed into my car, I turned on the radio and headed to the house. A minute or two later was when our quarterback connected with one of the kids who attended our church for a touchdown—the first of three.  That tied the score with five minutes left in the first half.

For a moment, just a moment, I wondered, should I go and get Judy and head on over for the second half?  Well, I quickly dismissed the thought.  After all, who goes to a game at halftime…it was too late.  So, I got home and crashed.  We went to bed early and as usual I got up early…like 3:30 am.  I checked my phone and there was a message from a friend sent the previous evening: “U R missing the game of the year.”  I checked the internet and read the newspaper account and he was indeed right.

They say that hindsight is 20/20.  The question then becomes “So in light of it being an unbelievable game–the game of the year–was halftime too late to go?” Absolutely not. Considering what I learned Saturday morning after reading about the game, was I too tired, really, to go to the game?  The answer is probably not (I had that probably because I really was tired!).  The bottom-line, I wish somehow, I could have made the game.

So, what is the lesson to be learned from this tragic tale?  Well, first, halftime is not too late. It is never too late to heal a relationship, to offer an apology, to dream a new dream or rekindle a dying fire in a marriage. I obviously don’t know where you are in your life’s game right now, but one thing is sure:  it is further into the game than it was yesterday!  If you are like me, well, I’m past halftime…but life is still full of challenges, adventures, opportunities and, well, life.  So, it’s not too late.  Regardless of what time your life clock says–if it is still running–you still have opportunities.  You see, what we can accomplish may change and how we accomplish it may be altered but the fact remains that we can still do something.

There is a great verse in God’s Book, the Bible.  It says that with God a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years is like a day. We usually get the meaning that God is not bound by time but there is something else.  It also means that God can take a day and make it like a thousand years.  God can take what time we have left and multiply it.  In other words—it isn’t too late. There is plenty of time to love and plenty of time to serve.  Don’t throw in the towel.

Well, on that Friday night years ago I did miss the game and the boat.  But there were other Friday nights and other opportunities.  It is true for me, and it is true for you.  We just need to be wise enough to trust God with each day and wise enough to ask Him to help us make the most of them all.  I know that can be challenging but He is a “time multiplying, nothing is too big for Me” kind of God and if we will trust Him, we can rest assured that, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

Dusty Neglect

For the Lord your God is the One who goes with you to fight for you against your enemies to give you victory.” Deuteronomy 20:4

There it sat…unattended and unused.  I started this year on a roll. I checked my blood sugar one morning and was rather shocked at the result.  That caused me to take a quick assessment of my health and every indicator said it was time to do something…so I did. I kick started my walking regime, made a lot of correct decisions about ending my love affair with carbs and over all began to live healthier.  The results were not necessarily quick, but they were steady.  Before too long, my sugar levels were better, my weight was better, my energy level was better and obviously I felt better.  And as we all know…better is better.

By May, I was a new guy.  All the health coach people were applauding my results but oddly enough my success started me down the same old path to bad habits.  It is kinda like the day after Christmas—you know, the emotional letdown after so much hype.  At first the negative effects were there but they were not gigantic.  But as the snowball rolled down the hill it got bigger and bigger and today, I decided to do something.  That something was to step on the scale that had been sitting quietly between the toilet and the vanity. As I stepped on, I was saddened and discouraged by what I saw. My, my, how the mighty can fall.

After I had stepped on the scale, I later went back into the bathroom and that is when I noticed it.  The scale was covered with dust and water stains—all the signs of neglect. It had become nothing more than a part of the floor.  I decided there and then to pick it up and clean it up.  It was a starting point…a declaration that enough just might be enough. The message was clear—the dust was a message, a sign that it was time to do something different.

We all have items around our house that have become dust collectors. Some matter and some really don’t.  But let me ask you a question.  What about the spiritual things, the spiritual markers of your life?  If you looked, would you find your Bible covered with dust or buried with a pile of magazines on the end table?  If you use your phone, is the Bible shortcut tucked away in some forgotten folder?  If you are a YouVersion fan, would you find your reading plans declaring way too many days behind?

Now I didn’t type that as a guilt trip—I typed it as a fellow traveler, who in another area of his life found some dust where it doesn’t belong.  I typed it because you, me, all of us at one time or another find ourselves just a little sloppy in the things that matter.  Hey, instead of waiting for the New Year to resolve to do this or that, why not take an inventory of the things collecting dust in your life and maybe, just maybe, let today be the day you decide to get out the dust rag.

One thing I love about God is that no matter what the mess, He is never disappointed in me but rather He is constantly and consistently for me and not against me. I faced a giant today and although mine is a physical thing, it has spiritual overtones. How about yours?  As you look around and poke around, just know that your Dearest Daddy is your biggest fan and no matter what…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

Southern Cuisine–the Real Deal

He says, “I am the Lord, and there is no other.” Isaiah 45:18b

I discovered the difference between the real deal and everything else.  My wife Judy and I traveled south to see family.  Since I am still working, she is usually our representative to our southern family.  She would make the circuit, sitting and talking and visiting, all of which is right up her alley.  But this time…things were different.  I decided it was time for me to make time to see my family and I am so glad that I did.  I was reminded of the value of family and in the process rediscovered the value of good southern cooking. We stayed with two of my sisters and then with one of Judy’s nephews and his wife.  At each place, queens of southern delights strutted their stuff, but it all came together one beautiful Thursday evening.

First, in Valdosta where she is from and where a bunch of her family lives, there is a family of restaurants that are excellent for two reasons.  First, they are all buffets and second, they all specialize in southern cooking.  The buffet is a spread of everything southern…fried chicken, ribs (both fried and smoked), fish, pork chops, chicken gizzards and livers, pot roast and the list goes on and on.  Then comes the vegetables…field peas, lima beans, baby lima beans, black-eyed peas, collard and turnip greens, cream corn, grits and…well, you get the idea.  Judy and I enjoyed it so much we went twice.

Well, that was all good but then came Thursday night.  Her family decided to have a mini family reunion of sorts.  Now just like my family, her family is blessed with many queens of southern cuisine.  I admit I just couldn’t wait to taste what was going to be brought.  About thirty relatives showed up and each family brought several dishes. Now imagine with me.  Take the list above and double it and you will have a fair idea of how much food was there.  Now, take what we had at the restaurant, which was very good, and give it a multiplication factor of at least two and maybe three and you begin to understand the Allen family feast.  It was beyond delicious—and not just a dish here or there but every dish.  I won’t even try to describe the deserts.  Wonderful southern food with a wonderful southern family and well, I sure was glad I didn’t miss it.

I did learn something through my southern food experience.  You see, I was very content with the restaurant version of southern heaven until I tasted the real deal and suddenly, I was reminded of the difference.  The real thing made in someone’s kitchen with loving hands and hearts made the restaurant version somewhat of a cheap imitation. Oh, it was good till I had the real thing and then there was no comparison. The real thing trumps anything else every time.

That truth is worth remembering.  There are a lot of imitations out there in the world and they will try and make you discontent with the real thing.  They will try and steal your heart out of a good marriage or make you discontent and leave relationships that have satisfied for years. Like so many of the commercials today, they wave their plastic happiness and try to convince you that their “something” is better.  Don’t believe it—the real deal is better than a plastic substitution no matter how good it looks.  And by the way, that is definitely true when it comes to religion and God.  Don’t ever be tempted to trade the practice of religion for a God who loves you so much He gave His Son to die for you. Like He said in His Book, “I am the Lord, there is no other.”

I am grateful for my trip south, and I am grateful for the opportunity to learn once again about the importance of what is real and what is second place.  Never be satisfied with something else when you can have what is real and never trade what is first for what is second.  It is always a bad deal.

So, if you are blessed to have some southern relatives and you visit with them, make sure to sit-down with them for supper.  Chances are you will discover your own spread of southern delights.  And remember to be content and grateful for the spread that God has set before you.  He is a good, good Father and, unlike religion, He loves you so, so much and no matter what, you know, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

The Word

In the beginning the Word already existed. The Word was with God, and the Word was God.” John 1:1

It was bound to happen.  In my forty-two years of being a pastor I’ve managed to dodge the bullet on missing various things.  While I’ve had to miss several Sundays over the years, I never missed a wedding or a funeral.  Ironically, I almost got off to a bad start. Yup, I almost missed my first wedding with a bout of stomach flu.  With a bag in my pocket…we made it somehow.  I never missed a funeral…that is until a couple of years ago.  That flu season brought the type A flu…the kind that makes you think there are worse things than death…and I had to bow out.

It was hard.  It was the mother of a member of our church, a friend, and I was honored that he asked me to do her service.  Fortunately, I began preparing for the service several days before I got sick.  He had shared about his mother, and I wrote her life story.  With that done, I wrote the rest of the service.  I was sure I could do the service and that was a mistake.  So, the morning before the service that afternoon, I threw in the towel and asked one of our staff members to do the service and then texted my friend and called the funeral home.  I hated it but it was the right thing to do.

Suddenly, I was very grateful for the work I had done earlier that week.  I was able to give my work to our worship leader who would be filling in.  Now because of the short notice it was still a deal for him to step in, but the preparation and his willingness saved the day.  The bottom line was the service went great and the family was blessed.  The only problem was I felt like I had failed.  I know, I didn’t, but sometimes feeling trumps facts.  Know what I mean?

Well, I called the family later and told them I was so sorry and that I wished I could have been there for them.  They were very kind and understanding. After the phone call something came to my mind that changed my feelings of failure.  From nowhere, or maybe from God, came the words, “Dewayne, you weren’t there but your words were, and they made the difference.”  Instantly, I got it, I understood.  God’s plan for me this time was to be a part in a different yet important way.  God knew the flu was coming and He encouraged me to prepare and because of that preparation, the family was ministered too, and He got the glory.

“Even though I wasn’t there, my words, were.”  What a powerful thought.  It reminded me of how blessed we are to have the Word of God in our lives.  In so many parts of the world, people don’t have access to a copy of what we call the Bible.  In some places in the world, people treasure mere fragments of His Book.  Here in America, and other parts of the world, we can own multiple copies of this blessed Book.  No other book brings the comfort of His printed Word.  It is a confident assurance no matter what we face.  There is a reason for that.  You see, the Bible is God’s revelation of Himself to us. It is unlike any other book.

As a matter of fact, speaking of Jesus, the Bible says, “In the beginning the Word already existed. The Word was with God, and the Word was God. He existed in the beginning with God.” Who is this “He?”  We find the answer a few verses later.  It says, “So the Word became human and made His home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. And we have seen His glory, the glory of the Father’s one and only Son.” All that makes the Bible even more amazing.  When we read the Book, we are experiencing, we are walking, hand in hand, with God.  Wow.  Even though God is not physically here…His Word is and that makes the difference.

If you have never checked out the Bible, Christmas is a great time to start.  Discover it for yourself. Get a copy or get online and discover the power and presence of the Word of God.  It is filled with peace, comfort and promises.  And throughout all its pages you will find that special promise that means so much, “I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne 

Posted in Christmas, Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, loving others, missions, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful

My Christmas Santa

There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” Galatians 3:28

Santa Claus came to town.  I cannot describe the excitement that filled my small world as Christmas grew near.  I wish I could tell you it was all about Jesus, but in my boyhood world it was about presents and presents meant one thing—Santa Claus.  Just like we have now, we had an attic in our World War II barracks turned into a house.  And every year we would go into this magical place where special things lived and bring down the decorations.  We would start early and stay late.  While a white Christmas in Florida was never in the offing, a fun time was.

There were certain decorations that were staples in my world—I can see them in my mind’s eye like it was yesterday.  One of those was Santa Claus.  Now, we didn’t have the whole body but what we did have was his face.  Yup!  Our Santa face was about two feet tall and about 18 inches wide.  It was made from molded plastic, so it was three dimensional and to me—it was real.  When I got just a little older, I got to climb up on the roof (carefully for you concerned moms) and using some wire I would hang our Santa face on the front side of our chimney. But wait, it gets better!  Our Santa face had a light bulb inside and would light up at night for all the world (at least so I thought) to see.  It was magical.

I remember the vibrant colors—the red hat falling on one side of his peachy face, his full white beard, rosy cheeks, and his eyes.  His eyes were bright blue and right in the middle of each pupil was a small hole so that brilliant white light could come peek out giving the illusion of just the right amount of twinkle.  It was as if I could hear his hearty “ho, ho, ho.”  It was more than a plastic face—for me it was the center of my Christmas world.

I’m not sure what happened to Santa.  By the time Momma moved out of the house, I was in the Air Force.  I’m hoping he is still living in someone’s attic, but probably he found his way to the trash pile…the victim of some relative that stopped believing.  But he will always live in my mind.  But in my grownup world, I stopped to question.  Why did Santa look just like me?  Why was his skin so peachy and his eyes so blue?  If he loved all the kids around the whole world, it didn’t seem quite right that my Santa looked so…white. What about the African American kids, or the Asian kids, or the Hispanic kids?  What about all the other kids?   It didn’t occur to me so much back then but looking back…it does.

Well, having a peachy faced, blue-eyed Santa is one thing but what about a peachy faced, blue-eyed Jesus?  It’s so funny that when I look at a nativity set, there’s a fair skinned, often blue-eyed Jesus.  When I see a painting of Jesus in a church, (keeping in mind we don’t know what He looked like), He usually does have brown hair and eyes, but His skin is unusually fair for a Middle Eastern man.  Honestly, perhaps this doesn’t matter too much unless we begin to think that Jesus is partial to us…no matter who “us” is.  You see, just like the kids’ song says, “Jesus loves the little children, all the little children of the world.”  Color never mattered to Him, or the side of town you lived in, or how rich or poor you were.  He just loves people.

I loved the Santa that hung on my chimney just the way He was.  He wasn’t making a statement…he was just saying, “Ho, ho, ho…Merry Christmas.”  But let’s make sure our Jesus, or at least how we perceive Him, isn’t making an unintended statement either.  There is a whole world out there who God loves and who Jesus died for. Paul, one of the guys who God used to write the New Testament, said, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” So, if we are a Jesus follower, let’s get the message out that Jesus loves people…period.  And just as important…let’s make sure we get the message out that because He loves people…we love people.

The mission for every Jesus follower is the same—love God, love people. That’s what the Bible teaches, and I figure if we are going to follow Him, we should follow it.  It’s not always easy to love people…especially in these crazy days but guess what?  With Him nothing is impossible.  That’s what the angel told the young, virgin Mary.  God can pull anything off—including helping us love others.  It’s just good to know that “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne