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

The Old 410 Wake Up

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 sisters-in-law 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, 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.  It was time to get up. I think that is one thing I have learned these last couple of years. 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 every day 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, Grace, gratitude, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, wisdom

Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

If you need wisdom, ask our generous God, and He will give it to you. He will not rebuke you for asking.” James 1:5

It was a close call, but grace stepped in.  Every year, our church sends a group of missionaries to help process Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes in Atlanta. “Atlanta,” you say?  “I didn’t know they needed missionaries in Atlanta?”  Well, missionaries, at least to some degree, are folks who take a good message or do a good deed to a needy place and trust me that is anywhere and everywhere.  But in this case, it was also an opportunity to be a part of something very big that would impact thousands and thousands of people with the joy of a gift in the shape of a shoebox filled with items of love and the joy of a gift in the shape of a cross and an empty tomb—the message of Jesus.

Well, I almost didn’t make it. I almost missed the boat.  The week of the trip, two families in our church lost loved ones and as pastor and friend, I was asked to do the services for their loved ones—two precious mothers.  As it turned out the services would be held almost immediately after my return from Atlanta. Add to that, each service would require more than a few hours of preparation.  I believe each funeral service should be crafted in prayer and made as personal as possible and that requires time.  So, I told Judy I just didn’t think I could make the trip.  It would just be easier if I stayed back and worked.  She wanted very much for me to go but also knew the importance of the task at hand.

After some discussion, the decision was made…she would go and I would stay.  I had made this trip several times and I knew it was going to be meaningful but easier just sounded easier. But then she said something that caused me to re-evaluate.  It was something like, “Now, don’t be upset when I come back and tell you what a good time we had.”  It was a moment of clarity.  It caused me to remember the times before and that feeling of making a difference, the times of fellowship with the team, and at that moment, I knew I needed to go.  This time easier just wasn’t the best choice.

I began immediately to prepare the services and asked God to multiply the time that I had.  Then, Tuesday morning, the next day, with almost thirty others, I boarded the bus and headed to Atlanta…and it was an incredible trip. The journey, the destination, the work was all just incredible.  We got back in town Thursday evening, and I went straight back to working to finish the two funeral services. In my heart I knew I had made the right decision. The first service was Friday, and it was my privilege to stand before a group of people and share about a life well lived and a great God who loves us—a bunch.  The other service wasn’t till Sunday and, unknown to me, I would not be there for that one.  I would be at home with the flu.  Fortunately, the work for the service was done and someone else would use that work.  God knew all of this and used all of this.  Amazing.

Each day we are challenged to make decisions.  Sometimes they are obvious and sometimes they are not.  Sometimes the choice is between easy and hard.  Ask God for wisdom to make the right one.  Oh, you will miss it sometimes regardless, but I have learned that He has a way of honoring our hearts and intentions.  I just know that this time the easy thing was not the right thing…it was just easy.  I returned from Atlanta not depleted and tired but filled and refreshed.  Helping others has a way of doing that. And, God, well, He always does all things, well!

James, the half-brother of Jesus, says in the Book of the Bible that bears His name, “If you need wisdom, ask our generous God, and He will give it to you. He will not rebuke you for asking.” You gotta love that.  Need wisdom? Just ask.  Will He be upset because you “bothered” Him?  Absolutely not.  He is like a dearest daddy just waiting to help and the reason why He is like that is because that’s what He is—our Dearest Daddy.  So, as you journey life today and you come to those crossroads called decisions, no matter how simple or complex, just ask and He will be there for you.  Don’t worry, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, Military memories, priorities, Southern born, travel

Care Packages

Thanks be to God for His inexpressible gift!” 2 Corinthians 9:1

You never knew when they were coming.  When God and the Air Force decided to send us to Germany—well, it was an exciting adventure that we just thoroughly enjoyed.  But there was a downside…we were a long way from home…a real long way.  We were there from 1977 to 1980, we were young, and we were newlyweds.  Back then there were no cell phones and a landline call to the States was hugely expensive, so that just didn’t happen.  There was no internet.  The world moved at the speed of ship or a plane if you were lucky. The only option was snail mail and well, that could take a while.

Sometimes during the year, our parents would send us a box through the mail.  We called them “care packages.”  The reason was that when one came it was clear that someone back in the United States loved us and cared—about us.  That was important because as much as we loved being there—there wasn’t home—or anywhere close to home.

There were two times a year that you could almost always count on a care package—that was somewhere around your birthday and then Christmas.  I can still feel the excitement as the days clicked by.  We didn’t know when, but we just knew that my Momma or Judy’s Momma would spend the money and equally as important take the time to say, “I love you.”  We would go to the Post Office every day, looking for the yellow slip in our mailbox that said, “You have a package.”  Instantly it was like Christmas Day.

We would open the box that day—that hour if possible.  There would be wrapped presents and those we would save till the special day.  But there would always be just stuff—candy, trinkets, small things that could only be gotten in America.  Sometimes there were home baked goodies and even if they were stale by then—they were still from home, and we gladly ate them.

The care packages were an important link to home for us.  Like I said, it told us that someone was thinking of us—that we had not been forgotten.  What we need to realize, especially this week, is that God is the greatest sender of care packages.  His ultimate gift, His Son, made the way so broken people like us could not only come into the presence of Holy God but that we could call Him Father.  The Jewish people could never understand that.  To them God was a far off, unapproachable Deity that they worshiped.  But for Jesus followers—well we know Him as Dearest Daddy and that is not a term of disrespect or looseness—it is a term of His love for us and our love for Him.

Even amid these difficult and confusing days, God has continued to send His care packages along the way.  The Bible tells us this day, and every day, is a day that He made.  He makes the air that we breathe. Everything…everything…that we eat, enjoy or own is a care package from Him.  Every sunrise and sunset, every perfectly different snowflake is a care package from Him.  And every single night that I lay my head down on my pillow in the peace He provides—well, that’s a care package too.

Now to be honest, sometimes we would get things in our care packages from home and wonder “what in the world were they thinking?” I’m sure Judy and I laughed at more than few.  But do you know what?  Those things were notes of love too.  And the things that God allows and sends our way that we don’t understand—well, each one in its own way is a care package.

Well, as you know, times change, and the Momma’s have moved to heaven many years ago so the days of care packages from home are gone for us.  However, the memories linger, and the love is still felt from those special care package memories. But the care packages from God never change—He still sends them—every day—sometimes every minute.  He just loves us so much.  I hope regardless of your circumstances that you will make the choice to trust Him and to wait expectantly for His care packages.  Keep looking, keep waiting, and watching because each one tells us, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, gratitude, Integrity, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful

“Eat Mor Chikin”

The Lord does not delay His promise, as some understand delay, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish but all to come to repentance.”  2 Peter 3:9

It should be every church’s goal.  Y’all know I am partial to food.  We have been friends for a long time.  I think I was probably one of those kids that was born with a craving for homemade mac and cheese with fried chicken.  “Hey mom, can we skip the milk and go straight for the grease and carbs?”  Yup, sounds like me.  One of my favorite fast-food places is Chick-fil-A. Have you ever noticed something unusual about this place?  Well, let me help you…there is always a line.  Period.

It seems that no matter what time you go by to grab your chicken fix, people are lined up and being served.  If you have ever been to one, you also know it is a very unusual place.  First, the food is really good.  Their chicken, mac and cheese, milk shakes, waffle fries—even their salads are off the scale.  Now about their salads…I have to take that on word of mouth since I avoid anything green! Every time I see the commercial for their creamy mac and cheese, I start drooling.  One day, when the line isn’t insanely long, I’m going to get some.  But the bottom line is that they make sure they have something to sell and they sell lots.

However, the really big thing…even bigger than their food…is their service.  I have never seen a friendlier team of employees.  Every person who works for them seems to be genuinely glad to work there and genuinely glad that I stopped in.  Every time I have stopped, I have felt like I was the most important customer in the place.  One time at a Chick-fil-A at the airport the person who waited on me wasn’t quite up to par, but truth be known they are still far and above most places. And, it doesn’t stop there.

Remember I mentioned those long lines?  It is just amazing how organized they are in processing their customer’s orders. In the drive thru, they have employees out in the parking lot taking orders even before the customers get to the window.  They value their customer’s time and prove it by making sure they don’t have to wait any longer than absolutely necessary. By the way, it is a Christian based company and a lot of their business principles are straight from the Bible. People first. And, have you noticed that they choose to be closed on Sundays?  Do you know why?  God first.  Love God…love people.

All of this caused me to wonder something.  What if, we, the Church, did business like Chick-fil-A?  What if we “marketed” our message like they market their products?  What we have to offer is the best news ever—the Gospel or Good News that broken people can be healed—that forgiveness is available for any man, woman or child who is willing to place their trust in what Jesus has done.  I mean that is valuable.  Chick-fil-A believes in their product, but do we really believe in ours?  I think we should.

What if every person who came through our doors felt like they were the most important person in the building?  What is every person felt they were valued—both by God and by the church regulars?  You can take it to the bank that God indeed values every person regardless of race, social status, or sin list.  He is not willing that any should perish but that all should be redeemed.  It says it in the Book.  Perhaps the most important working team (think committee) in the church is the hospitality team.  Their job—to make every person feel welcomed, accepted, and wanted.  Yup…that would work.

Well, I do like a good chicken sandwich and a good helping of mac and cheese, but I love the way these folks do business.  I do think it should be the goal of every local church to love God…love people and make it obvious that is what we are about. The God we serve is worthy of more than “good enough”…He deserves our very best. Why? Because He gave His very best for us.  He is for us and through Him anything and everything within His will and purpose is possible.  In these days we have an opportunity to show off our love for God and others.  It can happen…it should happen…because He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, loving others, Military memories, missions, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, 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 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 down 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

Posted in Family, gratitude, life, love, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Half Time

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 pooped.  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 brief 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.”

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

Wish Book

No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love Him.” 1 Corinthians 2:9

Maria had it right.  One of my favorite movies is the Sound of Music.  In the movie, the kids are scared to death and Maria says that when she is afraid, she thinks about some of her favorite things.  Her list, though different from mine, was impressive.  It was a different time and a different country, but I could still identify with several things.  Remember her list? It had things like raindrops on roses; whiskers on kittens; bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens; brown paper packages tied up with strings; cream-colored ponies and finally something I really like—crisp apple strudel. Like I said, a different time and different place.

But she was right—when the dog bites, when the bee stung, or when she was feeling sad, she simply remembered a few of her favorite things. Which brings me to one of my favorite things and like her list—this favorite thing is gone.  The world when I was growing up was so different from today.  No cell phones, no internet, no cable television, or satellite television—it was a smaller world.  Things moved slower, more gently.  The saying, “You are slower than Christmas” was born in those days.  It seemed like Christmas simply took forever to come around.  Christmas was a time for wishing…a time for dreaming…about favorite things.

There were several big department stores back then.  Names like Sears and Roebuck, Montgomery Ward, J.C. Penney’s, and Spiegel were as common as Walmart is today.  If you lived in a larger city, you could go to the big stores. If you didn’t, every Christmas, the store would come to you.  It was called the Christmas Wish Book and every one of the big stores had one.  It would arrive late in the fall and was well over an inch thick and everything you could imagine, or wish for, was there in full living color.  I really can’t describe what it was like when this dream-world arrived in our mailbox.

I would sit down and slowly go through the pages and pages of the toy section.  It was amazing.  Eventually I might make it through the other stuff, but it was the bright shiny toys that really caught my eye.  Some things were so amazing they were beyond my ability to even wish for.  But I would go through the pages and slowly make a list of my favorite toys…my favorite things.  Sometimes I sent the list directly to Santa, but I also dropped hints to his secret agents—Momma and Daddy.  This one thing I know.  Christmas morning never grew old.  I couldn’t wait to see what dream or what wish had come true.

When the Wish Book came, I knew that everything I wished for wouldn’t happen, but it was the Wish Book that kept the magic, the hope of Christmas alive.  It was the list of favorite things that made my small world on the corner of Carlton and Wheat Roads seem bigger, more hopeful.  Sadly, now with the exception of a smaller version of Penney’s, those stores are gone, victims of online shopping.  And with them the Wish Book disappeared.  I can still remember when it made the news that Sears and Roebuck was going to discontinue their Christmas Wish Book. It was a favorite thing that all the websites in the world can’t replace.

But there is one Wish Book that just endures and endures—it is the ageless, timeless Word of God.  We call it the Bible. Now it is not a Wish Book like the stores put out.  It’s not a matter of flipping through the pages and making a list that God must fulfill to prove He is God.  No, this Wish Book is much bigger and grander than that.  This Wish Book is a book of hope, a book of grace, a book of love.  In fact, it says, “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love Him.”

From the beginning to the end, it tells one continuous story—God loves us enough to provide a way to bring His beloved human race back into relationship—to fellowship with Him.  The Wish Book from the stores was filled with toys and prices even Santa couldn’t afford.  But not God’s.  His greatest gift comes prepaid.  The price was the birth, (we call it Christmas), and death, (we call that Easter), of His Son.  And the best part—when He died, He didn’t stay dead.  And all we must do is believe and trust in Him and He will give us the greatest gift ever—eternal life.

But wait—it doesn’t stop there.  Every page is not only filled with the hope of a future with Him—it is the promise of today, and tomorrow, filled with Him, too.  When we trust Him and believe—He promises that He will never, ever leave us.  Every day we can have the assurance that He will walk with us.  While that is always meaningful, these days it is priceless.  In our turbulent, upside-down, uncertain world—He is rock steady.  He is good, He is faithful, and He can be trusted.

So, each fall I would patiently wait—ok, impatiently wait—for the Wish Book to come so I could dream of Christmas morning.  Well, the wait is over, and the dream is past.  Why not spend sometime today in the Wish Book of Wish Books—the Bible?  Be assured and warmed by the promises of His love and peace.  Be assured of the fact that we can rest knowing that an uncertain future is in the hands of a certain God.  Be assured that no matter what, we know that, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, 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 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 nephew’s 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 have a fair idea of how much food was there.  Now, take what we had at the restaurant, which was really 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 all of a sudden, 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, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Three Days, Day Three

Catch the foxes for us—the little foxes that ruin the vineyards—for our vineyards are in bloom.” Song of Solomon 2:15

It seems that God has a sense of humor after all.  Day two was a bust.  As bad as I wanted and needed everything to go right…it went wrong.  Mornings are my most productive time and it quickly became obvious that Monday morning and afternoon were not going to be productive…except to fuel and feed my frustration.  None of the circumstances were life threatening, nor were they going to matter in eternity, and they weren’t going to change the world. However, they had left me wondering what was God up to.  I just missed the part that He had enrolled me in the school of faith.

Tuesday, day three of “Three Days” began better—not because anything had changed but maybe, just maybe I had.  I got up and prepared the usual way.  Coffee, check. God time, check. Breakfast, check. Before I knew it, it was time to head to the office and see what God had in mind.  Something told me it might be different. When I arrived at the office, made a cup of coffee—first priority—and restarted my Apple computer for what seemed like the twentieth time.  Hmmm. It seemed to be happier so naturally I was happier but happier doesn’t mean the problem was gone.  I still had to do the one thing that started this fiasco—updating the church digital sign. I decided to try something different.

About two months ago, I had installed the software that was supposed to talk to the sign on another computer but no matter what I did, it simply wouldn’t talk to the sign. I called the expert and no matter what he did it still wouldn’t talk to the sign.  We gave up and I turned it off…until that morning…the morning of day three.  Well, figuring I had nothing to lose, I turned the PC on, opened the sign talking software and guess what? They started talking.  Like two old friends they started chatting like nothing was ever wrong. And just like that the thing that I had worried and fretted over was in the rearview mirror.  Just like that the one thing that I really needed to do was, wait for it, possible.  I really couldn’t believe it.  There was no explanation but one.  God not only heals bodies and creates universes—He works on computers.

I hope you are smiling right now because when all this happened I was.  I wrote the computer expert guy and told him the problem was solved and I thought it was a miracle.  He agreed.  So the bottom line is God proved that He is concerned about the little things that cause frustration and stress. He also proved that even when we are wondering what “He did to us,” He quietly and mysteriously works for us. So the rest of the first part of day three I merrily pressed the keys and fed data to the church sign for all of December and January.  Yay.  It turns out that people won’t be wondering why the church sign is still wishing them a Happy Thanksgiving.

I am glad that God granted me these three days…even day two…the less than trophy day.  That frustrating day set me up to appreciate the miracle day.  God used my frustration from day two to fertilize and grow the wonder of day three. In frustration on day two I said, “God why did you do this to me?”  At the end of day three I was saying in gratitude, “God, why did you do this for me!” because I am sure I didn’t deserve it. I hope this made sense to you because it was pretty cool.  I learned once again that God is God and I am not and that He is good all the time and if I am willing to trust and wait, He is willing to see me through.

So, that is the story of the three days…three days that I am sure all of us at one time or another have both enjoyed and endured. It is a story of how it doesn’t always take a major disaster to derail us on the tracks of life.  Sometimes, too often, it is just the little things gone south.  Sometimes the little things are more difficult to manage that the monsters that ravage us.  It reminds me of one of those good verses in the Old Testament.  It says, remember, it isn’t the elephants but the little foxes that spoil the vines and the harvest. I’m just glad that He is a patient loving Father who doesn’t grow weary with my groans or my whines.  No, instead the Whisperer whispers, “It’s ok child, don’t worry, big or small, “I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, gratitude, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, Trials

Three Days Day Two

The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and He delights in his way. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down; for the Lord upholds him with His hand.” Psalm 37:23-24”

I never saw it coming. Day one of “Three Days” was so awesome you would think that the day following a trophy day would be at least somewhat awesome, right?  Let me tell you that is not always the case.  If you read, “Three Days, Day One” you know that I my day job is being a pastor and one day recently, I and the church, had a “trophy Sunday.”  Now I need to be honest and let you know that not every Sunday qualifies as a “trophy Sunday.”  In fact, some of them can be pretty difficult but that’s not a deal because it just the way life is.  “Less than days” have nothing to do with where you work or what you do—it has to do with life.  Like I said in day one, when you have a really good day, put it on your trophy shelf so you can easily find it when you need a reminder that you are blessed.

Well, you know that Mondays always follow Sundays.  It is no accident that Mondays get a bad rap.  It just seems that if you are going to have a challenging day, Mondays get the call and in my case, that is exactly what happened.  So after the trophy day at church on Sunday, I bounded (slight overstatement there) out of bed about 4:10 am, ready to embrace the day.  Because it was Thanksgiving Week and because my wife Judy and I were taking a trip down south to see family, I only had two days in the office that week.  I expected and needed some productive time.  There were several things that just had to get done before I left but I was confident that I could get it done.  So, like a horse in the starting gate, I raced to the office…early.

When I got to the office, for fortification, I made a cup of coffee and then hit the spacebar on my computer and immediately noticed that it was a little slow to wake up. “Hmmm,” I said, wondering what was up with that. It did eventually start responding but things were just not right.  One of the things I had to get done was to update the electronic sign for our church.  To do that my Apple computer needed to talk to the sign which— speaks Windows—think EngIish and German. I have a program on my computer that is supposed to act like a translator but it was on strike. From there things just went downhill.  Not only was the Apple computer not speaking to the Windows sign, everything, and I mean everything,  just came to standstill.  No matter what I did, no matter how many times I restarted the computer, nothing helped. I watched the clock as my precious day slipped away through my idle hands.

Now, I believe in God.  I believe that God directs my day and my path.  One of my favorite verses in the Bible says, “The steps of a good (good as in God’s goodness) are directed by the Lord and it is He who directs His path.”  I know it and I believe it though my faith that particular day was sagging.  In fact, I left the office that day feeling just a little put off with God.  I mean didn’t He know I had to get this stuff done?  Didn’t He know I only had a little time to get a lot done?  Well, I finally just said to Him, “God why are you doing this to me.” I was frustrated and maybe, just maybe a little angry…if not at God at least the circumstances.  Looking back, I realized that I was having a little case of “spiritual amnesia.”

Spiritual amnesia?  Yup…it’s a real deal and I really had it.  You see, I had already forgotten the “trophy Sunday” and even forgot to revisit it to remind me of God being a good God.  I had forgotten that I believe that God directs and plans my day…meaning He had planned that day as an exercise of faith and trust…in Him.  I forgot it all and that was not fair to Him, my wife, Judy, who bore some of the brunt of my frustration and anybody else who happened to be close enough to feel and hear my frustration.  Are you getting the picture that Monday was not a “trophy day?” Ever had a day like that?  Trust me, I get it and I understand and so does our Dearest Daddy.

Well, that night, I sat down at my happy home computer and worked and watched how that same God that I had grumbled about multiplied my time and efforts and much of what I needed to get done, got done in just a couple of hours.  It was then that my “spiritual amnesia” fog began to clear.  It was then that I remembered that God doesn’t do things to people…He does things for people.  You see that non-trophy day was about learning—-I was in “God school” and He was teaching me things like faith, trust and patience.  I also remembered the rest of that favorite verse.  It says that even if I should stumble and fall, I will not stay down because He, God, will pick me up.  I may fall in the mud puddle of frustration but He loves me too much to leave me there.

So the day ended better than it started.  I went to bed that night with a feeling that no matter what tomorrow held, I would do what I could do and just leave the rest to Him.  I got out of bed, had my coffee and had a little talk with Him and He whispered to me that He would be with me that day and that no matter what He would not abandon me.  I knew that somehow the third day of “Three Days” was going to be ok and that what I write each day is indeed true, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne