Scripture – Page 140 – Grits with Grace

Family, life, Military memories, Scripture, travel

Memorial Day Rememberings

Posted on May 21, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

Once you were alienated and hostile in your minds expressed in your evil actions. But now He has reconciled you by His physical body through His death, to present you holy, faultless, and blameless before Him.” (Colossians 1:21-22)

It was a moment I will probably never forget. My wife and I love adventures. We look for ways to do things on a limited budget and we’ve actually gotten pretty good at it. A few years back we discovered we could take a train from Carbondale to Chicago, stay downtown at a nice hotel for a couple of nights and enjoy whatever was happening around us.. all on a shoestring budget. We would usually go around Memorial Day or the Fourth of July. It was pretty awesome.

Last year we went the week of the 4th. We grabbed a very nice hotel room and managed to snag a room that literally faced the fireworks display. It was awesome. At Millennium Park they have these incredible free outdoor concerts. Thousands of people from all walks of life gather on the large lawn to listen. Because it is the 4th, the music centers on America. They usually have a section where they honor the veterans by asking them to stand when the theme for their branch of the service is played.

I am a veteran. I served in the United States Air Force for 12 years and it was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. And that’s the problem. You see, because it was so rewarding I always felt awkward standing to be honored because I felt like I received so much more than I gave. So that night, I knew that part of the concert was coming and I was dreading it. I knew that Judy would urge me to stand, I would say no and she would give me the look. Again. But that night, for some reason, something changed.

It was time. The stirring songs from each branch of the service began playing. Soon, the Air Force theme was playing. I looked at Judy and said, “I’m going to stand just for you.” As I stood something happened. First, I saw others standing that had served in the Air Force and I felt community…I stopped feeling apart and instead felt a part—a part of the family. But what happened next was amazing.

There was a mother with a couple of young boys sitting about eight or ten feet from me. The younger of her sons, probably seven or eight, looked at me and said this, “Mom, is he a hero?” And I watched and listened as she said, “Yes. He served our country so that we can be free.” Then she turned to me and mouthed the words, “Thank you for serving.” Well that was the highlight of the trip for me and it was the day an unexplainable wall fell.

I am certain that I do not deserve the title hero. The men and women with crosses over their graves in all the national cemeteries deserve that. The warriors who came back from the various wars and conflicts bearing the physical and emotional scars of war deserve that. But the one thing that I realized that night was we should be thankful for our freedom. We can and should honor each person who served for their willingness and sacrifice.

So I’m still shy about standing at Veteran’s Day events. I still feel awkward at concerts when veterans are asked to stand. But it’s not because I’m ashamed to say I served. No, it is because I received more than I could ever give back. I was privileged to wear the uniform of my country. And that is pretty awesome. But wait. There’s more.

As I write this story another one is stirring in my heart. It flashed in my mind that this isn’t the only time, the only circumstance, that makes me feel this way. It is also my faith in God. That day when I followed Christ I also received more than I could ever give back. That day I was welcomed into the family of a God who loved me enough to give His Son to a Roman cross. Paul in the Bible tells us that we went from being alienated and hostile toward God to being able to call Him Father. Jesus caused my billion failures to disappear so He could present me faultless and blameless to His Father. We all need heroes. This Memorial Day would you take the time to remember those who bled and died that we could be free? Would you take your kids to the cemetery for your community’s Memorial Day service? I hope that you will. But I also hope you will pause and thank the Hero of Heaven for sacrificing His life so that people like you and me can be truly free. And finally, next time you have the opportunity to stand not as a hero but because of the One, stand proudly and thank Him. Thank Him that you can rest in Him. Thank you because He’s got this.

Family, Scripture

Larry, Barry, Harry, Terry, Ralph and Bubba

Posted on May 20, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But as it is, God has arranged each one of the parts in the body just as he wanted.” (1 Corinthians 12:17-18)

Ok, I was just so confused that I needed to tell someone. I know you must think I am goose crazy but yesterday morning was so weird in goose-land at the park or better, maybe it was something beautiful. So, let’s just say the geese were very prolific this year. There are lots, and I mean lots, of baby geese. There are two kinds of geese in the park. Almost all of them are the standard, brownish geese. Then there are also four or five white snow geese. Now trust me on this. In the past the snow geese and the regular geese just didn’t like each other. But something must have happened.

So let me tell you about yesterday. First, there were several of the standard brownish geese families. They were teaching the kids about swimming, eating, how to potty on the walking path…you know the standard things. But then there was something else happening. There were four white geese and they had like five babies and they were one big happy family. I’m sure there was a mom and a dad but there was also at least an aunt and an uncle. They were all doing their family thing. But hang on.

There was also a pair of the standard brownish geese and they had babies. What was different was they had two brown babies and a baby that obviously came from the snow geese. No really. I’m think they adopted one. And you know what? They treated him just like the rest. But that wasn’t quite the end of the story either. So, there was a pair of standard brownish geese and they had five brown babies. They were so cute. I think their names were probably like Larry, Barry, Harry, Terry and Ralph. Anyway, there’s one more thing.

There was one of the big snow geese in the family mix. He obviously had to be a distant, and I mean distant, relative. But he was one tough dude. The little babies were on the sidewalk and mom and dad were standing there. Usually, when I would walk by a family, the dad would hiss at me and I would act afraid. I wasn’t but I was hoping it made him feel better. Anyway, mom and dad were like casual—no deal.

But then there was the snow goose named Bubba. I mean when I got close he puffed his chest out, stretched his neck, glared at me and gave me his best manly hiss. You know the kind those big cobra snakes do in India. The hair stood up on the back of my neck and on my arms and I kept moving. I don’t know who Bubba was but he likes his family—brown or not—a lot.

You know, the more I thought about it… the more I thought it wasn’t weird at all. I thought maybe that’s exactly how it is supposed to be. The geese, regardless of their feather color, came together, formed a family and a community and were doing life. Everyone seemed pretty happy to me. Well, all except Bubba. He had an attitude but I think even that was because he loved and cared for the others.

Someone once said it takes a village to raise a child. It takes all kinds of people to make life work. And do you know what? It takes all kinds to make God’s family work too. If you go to church you know sometimes it can get just a little bumpy. Someone doesn’t like this or doesn’t like that. Someone wears the wrong thing or not enough of the right thing. Someone thinks things are too loud or too soft or too hot or too cold. Well, I think we need to take a lesson from the guys and gals at the park.

In the Bible Paul wrote that things would be pretty weird if a body was one giant ear or one giant eye. If we were all the same we would just be in a hot mess. It takes every part—ever person—being themselves and doing what God designed them to do. And do you know what else it says? It says in 1 Corinthians 12:18 “But as it is, God has arranged each one of the parts in the body just as He wanted.” As.He.wanted. That means that the person that you just love at church was put there by God. And it also means the person who irritates you the most was put there too. And perhaps they are there just for you. Of all God’s creations the church, His body, is one of His most beautiful. A flower garden is made beautiful not in its sameness but in its variety. The body of Christ is made beautiful the very same way. So, in these trying days, these crazy days, these days when it is so important that the church be the church, be sure and remember that the body is a bouquet of people and personalities selected and arranged by God himself. We need the Bubbas and we need Larry, Barry, Harry, Terry and Ralph too. We need the younger and we need the older. We need each other. Sound too difficult? Sound a little overwhelming? Don’t worry about it. God’s good at helping His rowdy, sometimes difficult kids grow. So, take a rest in Him. He’s got this. Just ask Bubba.

Military memories, Scripture

Minot Memories – Walking on Ice

Posted on May 19, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, I finally did take a different route. They say that three times is a charm. It took me four but I did learn. On day four…I didn’t fall. I didn’t fall on day five either. In fact, I don’t remember falling again. Why? I didn’t go that way. I chose a different route and that route, that path, had different consequences—better consequences. They also say that three strikes and you are out. True in baseball but fortunately it isn’t true with God. He keeps picking us up, dusting us off and helping us find the right path—one with less ice. When I fell I would quickly look to make sure no one was watching. When we fall in life we can rest assured someone is watching…our Abba Father. He’s got is His eye on us. So, be careful out there it can be pretty icy but don’t worry you aren’t alone. He’s always there. Rest in Him knowing He will be there to pick you up. After all, He’s got this.

life, Mother's Day, Scripture

Mother’s Day- Redemption

Posted on May 18, 2020May 18, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

“Jesus told him, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” John 14:6

Redemption. It’s one of my favorite words. One week ago, I wrote a story about Mother’s Day and my feeble attempt to honor the mother of our children. It was a story of good intentions with a not so good conclusion. It was a story that should have been about honoring but was really about muttering. It was a story about what was instead of what could have been…should have been. But, well, it turns out it wasn’t the end of the story.

So, without retelling the whole story (see “Mother’s Day—The Hard Way, May 11, 2020 on gritswithgrace.com) let’s just say I lost a blessing. Judy asked for a simple Mother’s Day gift and I fumbled the ball. I did it but with some (ok, a lot) of muttering. The day ended good with a great hike together and my receiving a reasonable measure of grace. The next day, Becca, our oldest daughter suggested a trip to Pigeon Forge for a few days as recompense. That seemed reasonable and doable and is in the planning stages. But there’s more.

It is the time of year when ladies change their purses. I know Judy has a dark red one that she uses in winter and a cute (did I just say “cute?”) one for spring. Well, the cute one for spring has seen its last hurrah. It is faded like an old leaf on the ground in late fall. She told me she was looking for a replacement but couldn’t find “the one.” It had to be a certain kind, it had to be the same color as last year’s, and it had to be a particular design. She said, “I can’t find what I want. I guess they just don’t make it.” What she was really saying was, “Here’s a chance for redemption, big boy.”

I jumped on this like “white on rice.” I like a challenge and love redemption. Now, I don’t know a thing about purses. Most guys don’t do purses though some have a “man-bag.” This guy doesn’t do either. But I do know about the promised land…Ebay. So, I got my iPhone out, clicked on the icon and entered eBay land. I tried several key searches. I quickly found out that whoever this Vera Bradley person is, she makes a lot of purses in a lot of designs and in lots of colors. But I was determined…I was seeking redemption.

Well, Judy wanders in, sits down and together we continue the search. By the time she got there, I was close. I could smell it; I just couldn’t taste it. And then it happened. There it was. Vera Bradley, coral floral, cross-body purse. The right brand, the right color and the right design. She wondered if it could be true. She said she would believe it when she could see it, hold it, touch it. The Saturday after Mother’s Day it came in the mail in all its glory. She saw it, she held it, she touched it. Game. Set. Match.

Her smile was from ear to ear and so was mine. Her happiness was so evident and so was mine. She couldn’t believe her prize was in her hands and her “prince” had brought home the bacon. Oh, I was redeemed all right. The epic failure was gone…replaced by the laurels of “coral floral” victory! Then I said, “Wait…I’ve heard this story before.” It is the story of God and me…of God and you.

You see, because of our sin, our failures, we were in a hot mess. We were separated from God and there was no fixing it. It was epic fail 101. Then God made a way—the way for rescue, for restoration, for redemption. And it’s not unlike my Mother’s Day story. I searched for the one thing that would make redemption possible and found it. And we do the same. We long for the one thing. And it isn’t religion. It isn’t being good. It isn’t stopping a bad habit or starting another. It is grace. It is forgiveness. It is Jesus.

You see, Jesus is not a religion…we have enough of that already. As Jesus said, He is “the Way, the Truth, and the Life.” His death and resurrection made it possible for anyone to come home to God. He makes it possible for this epic failure to call God, “Father.” Paul, in Colossians 1:13-14, put it this way, “He has rescued us from the domain of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of the Son He loves. In Him we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.”

Well, I’m glad the story didn’t end with part one. I’m glad there was a part two. I’m glad for redemption. And your story never has to end with only a part one. Whether it is coming home for the first time or coming back home another time, we will always find Him waiting with open arms and a warm embrace. Guess what? Last Monday I was ok…Judy still loved me. She’s like that. This Monday, well, she thinks I hung the moon. She’s like that too. Today, God waits to welcome you home and guess what? No, He doesn’t think you hung the moon…He did that. But He does love you to the moon and back. So, let go and let Him hold you. Rest in Him. He’s got this.

life, Scripture

War of 1812

Posted on May 15, 2020May 15, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

“Dear friends, don’t overlook this one fact: With the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day.” (2 Peter 3:8)

Warning. Thought provoking story ahead. It was the strangest library you could imagine. A friend told me about a cemetery that had some very old graves. Now I know you are wondering, “What does a cemetery have to do with a library?” And the answer is volumes and volumes. First, lest you think me strange, I love history and especially American and local history. Second, I love stories. This particular cemetery had some of both.

So over the river and through the woods Judy and I went till we came to Lavender Cemetery Lane. A quick right off of Highway 34 and about half a mile down the lane and there it was—Lavender Cemetery. There were two sections. The first section was much older than the second but both were filled with stories. And, like I said, I love stories.

First was my friend’s grandfather. I had already learned that he was quite the character. He actually ran with the infamous Charlie Berger gang. He did some time in the big house and died when he was only 48—though not from a bank heist or anything like that. I was fascinated. Then we started looking around and it was amazing. We found the grave of a veteran from the War of 1812. Can you believe that? Then we found families who had lost not one, not two but three children. It was in the days before there were antibiotics. Can you imagine how difficult that was?

There were many other veterans buried there. There was a Vietnam veteran who had obtained the highest enlisted rank in the Air Force, Chief Master Sergeant and had earned a Bronze Star for Valor in the war. Next to him was a veteran of the Korean War. He had died aboard the USS Saris. During a typhoon in Korean waters a naval mine broke loose and hit the ship and it sank in 20 minutes. Four men died and one of them found his way back home to Lavender cemetery. But wait, there is more. World War II veterans were scattered throughout as well as World War I. There were even civil war veterans buried there. Almost side by side, a young soldier from Mississippi was laid to rest by a soldier from the north. On and on, old, barely readable stones told stories of valor and courage.

There were headstones with beautiful etchings of home places and poems about life and death. Scratched into a large rock, one read, “My friends, here lies my body beneath the sod but my soul has gone home to God.” In this obscure country cemetery I saw a headstone for two people I know. The dates of the death yet to be filled in—their stories still being written. Many of the headstones have been worn smooth by time. Like their headstones, so many of their stories have faded into obscurity. But each one…each one…wrote a story that touched people and perhaps changed lives.

Yesterday afternoon at about 5:30 pm I found myself face to face with my own mortality. My time, your time is limited. The story will come to an end one day for each of us. The question is this, “What kind of story are we writing?” What story will be told at the service given to remember us? What story will be told when we stand before our creator either as His child or one who said no? What kind of story?

Well, the good news is, there is still time to write. There is still time to make sure your story is a story worth celebrating. Peter tells us in the Bible that a thousand years is like a day and a day is like a thousand years. That is a big truth. We get the first part easily but don’t miss the second. A day is like a thousand years. That seems to say that even if we are in the second half of our life, or later, there is time. If there’s more in the rearview mirror than the windshield, it’s not too late. God can take those limited days and make it like a thousand years—plenty of time to start writing a new story. So why not start now. Right now.

Forget the regrets. Forget the unwise choices. Forgive the broken promises just like God forgave you. It’s in the Book. Learn from each one but then leave the past in the past. Paul did…check out Philippians 4:13…forgetting what is behind and reaching forward to the future in Christ, I press on. Good, good advice. I don’t know how this virus thing is going to finish playing out. I know I am not afraid. I know my Father is in control. I know that the foreseeable future is going to be different. But I also know I want the story about how I handled it all… to be that I trusted Him to handle it. I want the story to say I trusted Him during the pandemic. We can do that you know. He’s trustworthy. I can lay my head on my pillow tonight and rest in Him. So, pleasant dreams. He’s got this.

Scripture

-346 Degrees Below Zero

Posted on May 14, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

I have refined you, but not as silver is refined. Rather, I have refined you in the furnace of suffering.” Isaiah 48:10 (NLT).

I got to go to the skin doctor last week. That’s right…I got to go. My skin doctor is located in Paduach so that meant I could jail break. Judy and I hopped in our zippy little car and headed south. It was good just to be going somewhere…even if it was to the doctor. When we arrived, there were special precautions. It reminded me of what going into the White House might be like. Sitting in my car instead of the waiting room, masks, temperature checks. I’m sure I saw a Secret Service agent poking around the corner.

So anyway, I finally made it inside. Now this was a skin check. They look and make sure something is not growing that shouldn’t be there. Being a southern boy who regularly thought it was cool to go to the beach and get sunburned, this is particularly important. What I thought was cool then is setting me up for skin cancers and the like now.

So, the nice skin doctor (at least I think it was her…she had a mask on…she could have been the secretary for all I knew) came in and checked me over. You will be glad to know that things went well. She did find one “pre-cancer” thingy on my ear. She said they should freeze it off. I said, “Yes Ma’am, you go right ahead.” So, she got her little freezing tool and cut loose. Ouch.

I have had this done before but I forgot how bad it hurt. It’s funny…freezing feels a whole lot like burning. There is a reason. Liquid nitrogen, the stuff they use for this, is -346 degrees. Yup… you read that right. I had a couple of other things that needed to be frozen, so she did those too. Speaking of frozen, after this chilling experience, I wonder how all those Disney characters could be so happy in that Frozen movie. Anyway, it was over, it was done. After a couple of hours the pain went away and so did the pre-cancer.

You know, sometimes pain is part of the process. In this case I was probably part of the problem. My neglect earlier led to a situation that had to be fixed—painfully fixed. Sometimes it isn’t our fault at all. Sometimes it is just part of life. Sometimes it is for our good. And that is where God comes in.

God loves us a lot. He knows what is good and what is best for us. Sometimes that means pleasant trips and sunshiny days. Sometimes it means pain. There are some lessons, and yes, some consequences, that require a season of pain to teach us. No one likes them. In fact, sometimes we get just a little mad at God. That is where faith comes in. Is He a loving Father? Yup. Is He all wise? Yup? Does He have our good at His heart? Yup. Are we willing to trust Him? Well, that’s just a little harder.

At least twice in the Bible the scriptures talk about the “refiner’s fire.” Proverbs 17:3 puts it this way, “A crucible for silver, and a smelter for gold, and the Lord is the tester of hearts.” The metalsmith will heat gold or silver to the point it melts and then all the impurities will float to the surface. He does this again and again till he can look into the pot and he can see the reflection of his face in the molten metal. The.reflection.of.his.face.

Our Abba Father, our dearest daddy, loves us enough to allow us to go through the fire and make us more and more like Him. And that usually means suffering. In Isaiah 48:10, God says, “I have refined you, but not as silver is refined. Rather, I have refined you in the furnace of suffering.” Some suffering is easier than others but honestly, none of it is pleasant—but it is all purposeful. God doesn’t know wasted suffering. Remember that.

So, as we walk these twisted paths we call life, whether it is twisted by the coronavirus or an illness or a tough circumstance, remember that God is with you and He is in control. He.is.in.control. You see, He is honestly more interested in our holiness than our happiness. Don’t take that harshly. As God’s kids, we are happiest when we are holiest. It’s just the truth. That path, the one directed by Him, means less regrets and less consequences. So, no matter what today looks like…trust Him. Rest in Him. He’s got this.

Scripture

Got a Truck?

Posted on May 12, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.” 2 Corinthians 5:17

I needed a truck. They say that there is one thing better than owning a truck. It is having a friend with a truck. Judy and I needed some new chairs for our patio. We found what we wanted at a not-so-local home and garden center. There were two problems. First, the store was located exactly 36.6 miles from our house. The other problem was the fact that eight chairs were not going to fit in our little car.

We used to have a van and that served as our pickup truck. While it wasn’t too manly it did get the job done. But now we have a little car. The little car is zippy and the little car gets 42 miles per gallon but the little car will not carry eight chairs. The fact of the matter is the little car will not carry one chair. I had a problem. I needed a truck. Fortunately for me I have a friend who has one. He’s also the kind of friend you can call at 2:00 am and he will come. He’s the kind of friend who would loan me is great, big, shiny pickup truck.

I called, he said yes, and soon Judy and I were on our way to pickup the pickup. I had ridden in the truck before but never driven it. It was a big, manly truck which probably explains why I ran over six curbs in the first five miles. Judy, with some effort, climbed into the passenger side and I, with some effort, climbed into the driver’s side. Instantly something happened. As I slid behind the wheel I felt like John Wayne, Bruce Willis and Iron Man all rolled into one. Watch out boys, here comes “the Duke.”

I felt manly. I found myself looking down at people in lesser vehicles to see if they were looking up at me and admiring my manly throne on wheels. They weren’t. But the bottom line is when I climbed into this massive hunk of raw steel, I felt more. Bigger. Stronger. Almost invincible. Somehow, what I was in changed the way I saw myself. Let me say that again. What I was in changed the way I saw myself.

It was just about then that I realized the massive truck I was riding in was a lot like Jesus and me. You see the Bible teaches us that if anyone is in Christ they become a new creation. Everything in the past is past and everything becomes new. While climbing in the truck didn’t change who I was it did make me see myself differently. Jesus goes one step further. He not only makes me see myself differently…He in fact makes me different. Climb into Jesus and things change—you change. You become a new creation.

It gets even better. In Romans 8:1, Paul writes, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” No condemnation. That means all the sins are forgiven and all the charges have been dropped. I stand before the Judge knowing that I can’t be condemned. He wrote the law, passed the sentence and then paid the penalty. The Judge, paid the price for my sin. That is amazing.

Why stop now? Paul wrote in Ephesians 2:10 “For we are His workmanship [His masterpiece], created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” Whoa. Masterpiece? Created for good works? You see, the truck made me feel like more but Jesus made me more. Now don’t start getting all puffed up thinking you did something to deserve this. It’s all Him. The only thing we do is climb in and that happens only because we believe. That’s it. Faith alone. So, if you need a truck, I hope you have a good friend…the kind you can call at 2:00 am…the kind that will loan you his big, shiny truck. But when it comes to a Savior, well, you can’t borrow that; you need Him for yourself, personally. And the best part, He is just waiting for you to call. He’s just waiting to make you new…to make you a masterpiece. He’s just waiting to be there for you. And all that stuff, the worry, anxiousness, fear, uncertainty, doubt, insecurity and a bunch of other stuff you’ve been carrying…just toss it in the back of His truck and let Him carry it. You just rest in Him. He’s got this.