Posted in Integrity, life, pride, school days, Scripture

Patrol Boy

 “But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance or his stature because I have rejected him. Humans do not see what the Lord sees, for humans see what is visible, but the Lord sees the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7

 It was a dream come true.  Growing up when I did was a blast.  I was born in 1954 (and yes, that was a long time ago) and things were just different.  Life was slower, people mattered more, things mattered less, and respect was a big deal.  I was raised to call people older than me, sir and ma’am.  It’s kinda humorous, but now I am the senior adult and I still call everybody and their brother, “sir or ma’am.”  It was just ingrained in me from my earliest memories.

Back in those days, when you were in the sixth grade you were the king of the mountain.  You see in Florida in the early sixties elementary school went from first thru sixth grade.  There was no kindergarten.  Part of being the king of the mountain was the prospect of being selected to be a “patrol boy.”  Now, the first thing you need to know is the term “patrol boy” was a term of respect.  Today I think they still have crossing guards but back then…patrol boys were the state police of the day.  They had a belt with a badge that went around their waist and over their shoulder and of course, the flag.  It was a two-piece design that was about five foot long when put together.  Oh, I almost forgot.  They had a safety helmet too.  They definitely looked the part.

At the end of each school day, these brave traffic warriors would be dismissed from class a little early to go and man their assigned post. They would put on their belt and helmet, grab their flag, and head out for duty.  Now this was the real deal.  A teacher or aide didn’t accompany them.  The lives of their peers were in their hands—and they were granted authority to stop traffic.  Again, it was an honor and a dream to get that belt, badge, helmet, and flag.  The selection process was done at the end of the school year of our fifth grade.  I’m not sure what the criteria was, but I do know not everyone got selected.

Ok, let’s be honest.  I wanted…I really wanted to be a patrol boy.  It was like I was born for it.  It was my destiny.  I could tell you that I wanted to help save lives.  I could tell you that the safety of every kid who crossed at my post was what drove me but that wouldn’t be true.  No, I’m afraid it wasn’t quite that noble.  I’m afraid it had nothing to do with safety…it had to do with…the belt, the badge, the helmet, and the flag.  Now don’t laugh, it was a big deal. The uniform has led a lot of guys to sign up for the Marines.  I was no different.  I wanted people to look at me and say, “There goes a patrol boy.  Leader of peers and a hero to boot.”

Well, it happened.  I was selected and honestly, it was just about everything I thought it was going to be—at least through my eyes.  No one ever called me a hero, nor did I outright save anyone’s life, but there was something about the way it made me…feel. Looking back, I think there is a word for it…pride.  You know there is a good pride…the kind that lets you know you did your best.  There is also the kind that says, “I’’m a patrol boy and you’re not.”  It’s closely related to the kind that says, “I have power and you don’t. You have to listen to me…obey me.”  Bummer.

As far as I know, at least from the outside, I did a pretty good job.  I received and proudly wore my little pin, which I got to keep at the end of the year that marked my service.  No one got ran over on my watch and I think I only got in trouble once.  That happened when one of my fellow patrol boys, a friend no less, made me mad and I whacked him with my flag.  It certainly wasn’t very hero like and trust me it wasn’t as pretty.  Something on the inside—that should have stayed on the inside—oozed out. I realize now that all of us have a tendency to play that game—pretty good on the outside and pretty dingy on the inside.  Someone once said you can fool some of the people some of the time, but you can’t fool all the people all of the time.

There should be another saying that says, “You can’t fool God any of the time.”  You see, God’s got this “vision thing” that allows Him to see right past the skin and right into our heart.  He sees our real thoughts, our real motives, our real selves.  It’s been kind of a “go to” verse for me recently but here’s what it says, “The Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at Eliab’s appearance or stature because I have rejected him. Humans do not see what the Lord sees, for humans see what is visible, but the Lord sees the heart.” Wow…that is one scary thought.  God sees what matters.  We need to remember that.

Well, I enjoyed my year as a patrol boy.  The next year I went to junior high and went from the top of the heap to the bottom.  In fact, there were a couple of guys who did their best to make junior high hard for me.  Today we call it bullying.  I wonder if it was payback for some misused authority.  Hmmmm.  What goes around…comes around.  Anyway, I’m glad I don’t have just a “patrol boy” watching over me.  Nope, I have the King of Kings and that’s pretty awesome!  I don’t have a thing to worry about because “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in communication, forgiveness, Grace, heaven, life, missions, prayer, Scripture, travel

Walking the Jesus Road

 “There is no distinction between Jew and Greek, because the same Lord of all richly blesses all who call on Him. For everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” Romans 10:12-13

It seemed like a waste of time.  I was part of a mission medical team in Uganda and we were working with a ministry that helped orphans and due to war, Aids, and poverty. There were many to help.  After ministering at the orphanage, we went out to local villages and into the bush to reach more of the people.  Medical care, though extremely inexpensive, was out of the reach of most of the people.  That alone clearly speaks of their poverty.  It was such an opportunity to help others.

Before we started the clinic, I would have the opportunity to speak to the people.  I would explain that there was a Man named Jesus who was like no other man.  He would go from village to village helping people—often healing them of their diseases.  I would explain that He did it because He loved them.  Then, I would tell the people that we were followers of that Man and just as He wanted to help people—we wanted to help them.  I explained that the medicine and the doctors were there at no charge to them because someone else had paid the price.  And naturally, that led to me sharing how God was offering them a way for their spiritual brokenness to be forgiven. 

Some of the people in the village had heard of this Man—many had not.  Some were Muslims and some followed whatever local religion they were familiar with.  Before they saw the doctors, we had the privilege of sharing with them more about this man Jesus.  We would ask them if they wanted to leave whatever “god” road they were on and walk the Jesus Road.  While it seems simplistic here, there it made perfect sense.  There was no pressure just an opportunity to believe.  Whether they said yes or no, the medicine, the help, was theirs for free.  That’s what Jesus would do.

It had been a long day and we had seen well over a hundred patients—maybe two hundred.  Many had said yes to the question about the Jesus Road, but some simply said no. As the day wore on, our spirits were still willing, but our bodies were growing tired.  Finally, there was just one man left and it was my turn to share with him.  He was tall and dressed in the traditional Muslin clothing.  I could tell that he was elderly, but I was surprised to learn that he was 81 years old.  Now, honestly, the chances of a Muslin man that old choosing to change roads was slim to none.  It seemed like an exercise in futility. 

I shared a Bible story with him and was surprised that he paid close attention.  At the end of the story, which spoke of a person choosing to walk the Jesus Road, through the interpreter, I asked him, “Would you like to follow this Jesus Road?”  Much to my utter surprise, he responded, “Yes, I would.”  I was certain he just didn’t understand my question, so I rephrased it and his response was the same. Amazing.  Finally, I said, “Do you understand that walking the Jesus Road requires you to leave the road you are on?”  I said, “You cannot walk two roads…only one.” His response was, “I choose the Jesus Road.”

We bowed our heads and he prayed telling Creator God that he was a sinner, but he believed that Jesus had died to pay for his sins.  He said that he was willing to leave all other roads and follow only Jesus.  And just like that, this dear old man, became a Jesus follower. Did he fully understand all the theology that was involved?  Probably not, but he did know that God loved him, that he was a sinner and Jesus would forgive him and that was enough.  What seemed like a waste of time, an exercise of futility, turned into the most amazing moment of the trip.  That day that man became a child of God.

This story never grows old—and neither does the old, old story about Jesus being born, living, dying, being buried, and coming back to life in three days—never to die again. It is a factual, amazing story.  I am always amazed that we know more about this carpenter from a small village in the middle of nowhere than we do of all the Roman emperors combined.  Do you know the reason?  Jesus is the real deal.  How about that?

You might be surprised to learn that Jesus wasn’t a big fan of religion. In fact, neither is God.  I always think of religion as man’s attempt to reach God while Jesus was God’s way to reach us.  A relationship with God is not about church, being good, or keeping rules.  It is about God’s love and our faith in what Jesus did.  It is simple, it is powerful, and it is true.

If you want a witness, you can go to Uganda and find my 81-year-old friend, but truthfully, he probably isn’t there.  By now, he has most likely followed the Jesus Road straight into heaven.  That’s where it ultimately ends.  And as much as I love the fact that the road leads there, I am also so glad that there is room for two to walk side by side—Jesus and me, Jesus and you, Jesus and us.  And as we walk, I know that I can face whatever the road holds because, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

Home is Better

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted in Integrity, life, priorities, Scripture, travel

Lawbreaker

“If you love Me, obey My commandments.” John 14:15 

Can someone say, “lawbreaker?” Now, by and large I have always considered a person who generally follows the rules. Well, something happened on our trip to Florida that sorta gave me a new perspective. First, I was not a speeder. Oh, I might go one or two over the speed limit but that was it. In fact, for the last year or so, I would set the speed control right at, or under, the speed limit. It was just something I did. Well, here’s the confession. On our last trip south I found myself going a full five to seven miles per hour over the interstate speed limit. I know—I can’t believe it either.

I think it started on our last trip to Atlanta for Operation Christmas Child. I was supposed to follow someone and they were doing around 75 to 77. Well, I felt like I needed to keep up so I did too. To my surprise the world didn’t come to an end…in fact, in some ways it was easier because that was the speed that it seemed everyone else was traveling. I discovered that doing what others are doing can be…easier. So our next trip was the one to Florida and not surprisingly I found it very easy to just keep doing what I had done. You see, often when you cross a line it becomes easier and easier to keep right on crossing it. Hmmm.

I know, and you probably know, that lawbreaking is like that. When we break the law, if we don’t get caught, we eventually convince ourselves that we won’t get caught…ever. Now I know, and you probably know, that is simply not true. If you mess around with breaking the law, and especially God’s law, you will eventually pay the price. Lawbreaking and sin both carry penalties. Now I didn’t get pulled over so I didn’t get a ticket but something in me was reenforced that is very important. If I had, or if I do, well, I will fully deserve it. And guess what? If and when it happens, and whether it is two miles per hour over the speed limit or ten—I will be just as guilty. I became a lawbreaker when I went one mile per hour over the limit and that made me—guilty.

This really came home to me the other day. I was driving on a four lane road near our town and suddenly someone I knew passed me. My first judgement thought was, “Hmmm, they shouldn’t be speeding.” That worked until I looked down and discovered that I too was speeding—I too was a lawbreaker. I quickly realized that I had no right to judge them…period. Now this story is not about speeding or breaking any traffic law for that matter. Really, this is about God and His law and the fact that we should remember that breaking the law is breaking the law. There aren’t big sins and little sins—only big and little consequences. There aren’t little lies and big lies—a lie is a lie. We just need to be as holy as we can be. We need to remember that God gives us rules for a purpose…one of which is to make our lives better.

Jesus said that if we really loved Him we would keep His commands. So what do you say…let’s make holiness a priority. Let’s remember that once we are comfortable with being a lawbreaker—well, it can take us places we don’t want to go. Do you need a refresher course in spiritual driving (sorry couldn’t resist the analogy), just go to God’s driver’s ed course. First thing you learn is…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

It Was a Dippity-Do-Dah Day

 “If we say, “We have fellowship with Him,” and yet we walk in darkness, we are lying and are not practicing the truth.”  1 John 1:6

Dippity-do dah, dippy day, my oh my, what a wonderful day.  I joined the Air Force back in 1972 and in so many ways it was a different world.  At that time longer hair was still very much in vogue.  It seemed the only guys with shorter haircuts were either born in the 1920’s or in the military.  I was the latter.

It was also a different day in the way people viewed the military.  The country was coming out of the Vietnam era and sadly many saw veterans and the active military in a dark light.  I can well remember walking around town and getting the “one of those” looks.  While I was never ashamed of being in the military, in fact, I was proud to serve, I did want to be cool—part of the in-crowd and short hair just wasn’t in.  But you know the old saying, “Where there is a will, there is a way.”  Hello Dippity-do.

It’s funny, I don’t remember anyone else doing it nor do I remember how I started.  I found this hair stuff called, “Dippity-do.”  It was a gel-like product and depending on how much you applied, it would make your hair stay where you put it.  So I bought a jar and slowly I let the hair on the top of my head and sides grow out.  I would wakeup in the morning and put this stuff, in fact a lot of this stuff, in my hair.  I would comb it kinda on top of my head and toward the back.  The effect was—well, effective. The funny part is when this stuff dried out it made my hair as solid as a rock.  Of course, my mom always said I had a hard head.

I found that I could have the required white-wall around my ears and have all this hair glued down to the top of my head.  When I got off work, I would go take a shower, wash this stuff out and believe it or not have enough hair to totally cover my ears.  I looked like any other guy in the early 1970’s.  Even as I write this I’m saying, “What?”  But believe me it worked.  I looked like a military guy during the day and a regular off-the-street guy at night.  Looking back, it was weird.

Even stranger I worked in the command section of my squadron and to show how effective my ruse was, no one said anything.  It looked, and I guess was, regulation.  I remember one day walking in the local mall and coming straight toward me was my squadron commander, Major Hobbs.  We passed within five feet of each other and he didn’t even recognize me. Yup—G.I. Joe by day and a 70’s hipster at night. Looking back there probably was a word for it.  It was probably pretty hypocritical.

The word hypocrite means to “play the part” or to “wear the mask.”  It was used to describe actors in ancient Greece who were one thing on stage and another off the stage.  The one thing I remember is that I always felt a certain amount of fear while doing this.  There was always the “what if I get called in and don’t have time to plaster my hair down” thing.  What if my commander and my first sergeant saw me and did recognize me?  I knew they respected me and what would happen to that respect?  It’s the feeling you get when you are one thing one time and another thing later. 

Well, finally I figured it wasn’t worth it and I’ll tell you that story another time, but the bottom line is I went and got a regular haircut.  Two things happened almost immediately.  First, I felt free.  The fear of the wrong person seeing me at the wrong time was suddenly gone.  It was like a weight was taken off my shoulders.  The second thing that happened was I discovered that in spite of what the culture said, I was proud to be in the Air Force and that haircut identified me as part of a special family and team.  It wasn’t something to be ashamed of…it was something to be proud of.  And the best part, the girl I was dating, who I later married, thought I was even cuter.  Now for the funny part. I have been out of the military now for 41 years and I never, not even once, grew my hair out.  I decided I like shorter hair.  More than that…I decided I like being real.

So, what about you?  What is it in your life where you “wear the mask?”  What is it in your life where you have decided to pretend—to be something you aren’t?  While we find that in every aspect of life, sadly it’s also common in the Jesus follower world.  People say one thing and do another—people who act one way on Sunday and another the rest of week.  If I learned anything from my Dippity-do world is that authenticity beats a plastic mask every time.  

John, one of the guys who followed Jesus in the Bible, said it pretty well.  He said, “If we say, “We have fellowship with Him,” and yet we walk in darkness, we are lying and are not practicing the truth.”  In other words, if we say we are one thing and really are another—we are just living a lie.  It is better to be real than fake.  It is better to be authentic than counterfeit.  I may have fooled my commander that day but I never fool God when I choose to be one thing in public and another in private.  But the one thing I love about God is that He never rejects me.  He is never ashamed to call me His child. I can always rest in Him and more than that, He can handle who I am—Dippity-do and all.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, Scripture, travel

Snakes From Heaven

 “Whatever is good and perfect is a gift coming down to us from God our Father.” James 1:17

Plop and there he was.  Every trip to the land of collards and grits, aka South Georgia, allows us the chance to visit our southern relatives. Mostly they are on the Allen side. There is my wife Judy’s oldest sister, a couple of old brothers (oops, I meant to say older), a somewhat, younger sister and a host of nieces, nephews and a few Cousin Eddie’s.

Well, one day, we were out in the country visiting her oldest brother Smitty and his wife Marie.  A while back Smitty suffered a stroke and lost his ability to speak…well…he still talks up a storm and with passion, it’s just we can only understand a few words.  Regardless…we always enjoy the visits.  Smitty has always been quite the character and it would take more than a stroke to change that.  So we visited, and visited, and then we visited some more.  Finally, it was time to move on to the next relative. When we stood to leave Marie said, “I’m gonna get this room cleaned out and y’all can stay with us next time.” The room was separate from the house with its own bathroom and entrance. I told her that sounded really good.

Before we could move on to the car and make the great escape, she said, “Well, let me show you this room.”  She and I made our way to the door and with her leading the way, she opened the door and I followed.  As she opened the door and walked through, I stepped into the doorway behind her, and just about then, a snake, yes-a real live snake, fell from the door-casing and landed not more than a few inches from me.  As it hit the floor it made a nice plopping sound.  I made another kind of sound.

So, let me set this up, Marie is in the room, totally unaware of what has fallen right behind her, I am in the doorway fully aware of what has fallen right in front of me, and our new friend is looking at both of us with a real attitude.  The snake had my full attention so I got Marie’s attention and as we watched he set about trying to bite us—striking at her and striking at me.  You’ve probably heard stories about how feisty a little chihuahua can be, well, this snake was part chihuahua. I realize he was only about twelve inches long, but for all intents and purposes, he was the size of an Amazon boa-constrictor. It was time for him to leave.

Marie, who is 100% South Georgia born and raised, went and got a hoe and well, let’s just say Mr. Snake went to meet his maker.  If you like snakes, sorry.  But if you are like me and firmly believe that the only good snake is one that is not breathing…well, you understand.  So, what is the moral of this short story?  What is the big truth?  Well, I’m pretty sure for me it involves not being surprised at what can plop down right in front of you when you least expect it.  Things can change quickly.  The really, really big lesson is about gratitude.  You see, if Mr. Snake had waited just about five more seconds to plop…he would have plopped right on my head, fallen into my shirt and I would have died of a heart attack.

We could talk about why the snake fell in the first place but I think I would rather spend my time thanking the good Lord for those five seconds.  You see, time after time as we journey through life, there are dozens of little blessings.  All we have to do is look for them instead of staring at the circumstances.  James, the half-brother of Jesus and a man that I am sure did not like snakes said, “Whatever is good and perfect is a gift coming down to us from God our Father.”  Well, this gift indeed did come down and sure enough it was good because it taught me not to complain about falling snakes but rather to be thankful for where it landed—or didn’t land.  Now if it had landed on my head and slithered into my shirt, well I am sure my Dearest Daddy would still have said, “Don’t worry, son, I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in birthday, Family, life, school days, Scripture

Leaving Ant-Man Behind

 “For my part, brothers and sisters, I was not able to speak to you as spiritual people but as people of the flesh, as babies in Christ.” 1 Corinthians 3:1

There he was…Ant-Man.  So one of my favorite new things is an digital picture frame. It has lots and lots of pictures stored on it and every few seconds a new picture shows up on the screen. It is like a memory machine as picture as a picture reminds me of things and people from the past—both distant and recent. Most of the pictures are of our family.  Even better, it has a feature that allows the clan to share pictures with Judy and me.  That way even though I missed a certain event, I can still see it through pictures.

One of my favorites is a picture of my oldest grandson, Ethan. The picture was taken when he was five years old and he was dressed up for Halloween. His costume for that year was Ant-Man. Now if you don’t follow Marvel comic superheroes then you probably don’t know who he is. That’s ok because all you really need to know is that he is one of their super heroes and that year he was popular enough for Ethan to choose to look like him. 

As the pictures rolled across the screen of my digital frame, that morning when I saw Ethan dressed up as Ant-Man, it caused me to pay special attention to other pictures of him as the pictures rolled by. From the time he was really young until now when he is on the high school basketball team—the pictures told a story.  He is growing up and what came to mind was the things that he used to really like are now fading memories.  You see he is nearing fifteen and trust me the thought of him dressing up on Halloween as Ant-Man are long, long gone.  Now he is thinking about things like getting his learners permit in just a few weeks.

Ethan is growing up.  It is a good fact of life. It is a normal fact of life and it should be a lesson for all of us—especially when it comes to our spiritual journey.  You see, like Ethan grew up physically so God intends for all of us to grow up spiritually.  When we first become a Jesus follower we are like a spiritual babe. In fact, it is no accident that Jesus said that to go to heaven we had to be “born again.” The important thing to remember is that while we are babies when we trust Jesus—God wants us to grow. So if we have been following Jesus for a while and we are still walking around in our “Ant-Man” costumes—well something isn’t quite right.

Paul wrote to the Corinthian church and told them, “For my part, brothers and sisters, I was not able to speak to you as spiritual people but as people of the flesh, as babies in Christ.” The truth was they weren’t spiritually growing. They were stuck in the rut of acting and living like spiritual babies. You see, God honors “childlike faith” but He doesn’t want us to act childish. Too often we act like spoil kids of the Kingdom instead of the warriors He wants to be. So what do you say—warriors or spoiled kids? The word from the Word is we need to grow up and act like the mature believers God wants us to be. It’s time to leave Ant-Man behind. Need a little help? Don’t worry—the One who made us and saved us is ready to help.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, food, gratitude, life, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Bare Shelves–Faithful God

 “So don’t worry, saying, What will we eat or what will we drink? or what will we wear? For [those who don’t trust God] eagerly seek all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.”  Matthew 6:31-32

I wonder did it really happen? Sometimes I ponder and think, “Did the world really shutdown five years ago when COVID raised its ugly head? Were the stores really closed and were the shelves really bare? Did it really happen?” Well, of course, the answer is yes but I still can’t wrap my head around it all.  Imagine…bare shelves in America and leading the charge—toilet paper. Go figure. It really was strange to go to the store and find everyday things not there every day.

I’m not much for going grocery shopping and that is probably a real paradox. I really like food–we are great friends–just not buying and preparing it. I remember sometime during the COVID famine Judy and I went to the park for a walk (good idea–walk with your wife…she cooks food) and then I agreed to go with her to WalMart to get a few items.


So, we get to the store and there was in fact plenty of food there. For sure some items were sold out (toilet paper—remember that? Still have a supply stashed?) but others were plenteous. Cookies were hard hit but strangely broccoli wasn’t. But the shocker was when I got to the bread isle it was empty…bare. For a southern boy who was raised to believe that bread is its own food group, well, that was a crisis of Biblical proportions.


It made me think about the children of Israel and their trips to the grocery store. For forty years they would walk outside the camp and there all around them were little mounds of manna. The Bible describes manna as small, round and sweet (Krispy Kreme’s?) and it was always there. Never a time did they go out when the store was open (it was closed for the Sabbath) and the shelf was bare.


God was teaching them—and us—something. They couldn’t hoard (can someone say toilet paper?) because God told them to go out every day and get one day’s supply. The only exception was the day before the Sabbath when they could get two. And every day they went and there were the “Krispy Kreme’s” all around and they would pick them up and God would say, “I am good, I am faithful, and I can be trusted.”

Day after day, week after week, month after month–“I am good, I am faithful, and I can be trusted.” Never a bare shelf, never a failure to deliver, never an oops. Can you imagine? As Jesus followers, I think we can and should. We may not have manna laying around today, but we do have the faithfulness of that same God. He takes care of His kids. You can bank on it.


Jesus talked about this in the Bible when He said, “So don’t worry, saying, What will we eat? or what will we drink? or what will we wear? For [those who don’t trust God] eagerly seek all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.” Let that soak in.  We don’t ever have to worry because we have a Dearest Daddy who loves us and cares for us.  Period.


So, as we reflect on the past and present, and look forward to the days to come, we can rest in the blessed assurance that God will be there. We need to remember every time there is a need met or a blessing given, to say, “Thank You, Father.” And slowly but surely, we will learn the valuable lesson of God’s faithfulness. God is good. God is faithful. God can be trusted. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in forgiveness, Grace, life, prayer, Scripture

Dirty Rain Passover

 “Jesus told her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in Me will live, even after dying. 26 Everyone who lives in Me and believes in Me will never ever die. Do you believe this?”

It came from nowhere…it was dirty rain from…the Southwest. So, I was on my way to breakfast at “the Barrel” with my friend Jeremy. We always have a great time of food and fellowship. He picks me up and we talk and laugh and what ever we talk about stays with us. Well, we were driving along and suddenly there was a brief rain shower. Now that is not unusual—but what was unusual was it was kinda raining—mud. No, really—literally. It wasn’t much but it was enough to really make a mess. Jeremy commented, “Did you see that?” And believe me I did.

Well, he turned on the wipers, and swiped the dirty rain away. We hit the Barrel and after an hour or so, headed back out to the truck. When we got there we discovered it had happened again. His truck is a dark color so it was really obvious. What a mess. We headed back to our small town and when we pulled into my driveway it was very apparent that this wasn’t a small blip on the radar but wide spread.  My car was sitting in the driveway and it too was covered with the results of the dirty rain. Yuk! I was definitely heading to the carwash…along with everyone else in town.

After a while, I mashed a magic button we have in our house…it opens our garage. There, inside and under the protection of the garage, was my other car…nice and clean.  Why? It was protected…not exposed to the dirty rain. So one car was yucky dirty and the other was perfectly clean. You see, the one left outside unprotected suffered the dirty bath while the other that was protected—well, the dirty rain just—passed over. Passed.Over.

As I pondered the two cars and their fate, I was reminded of a time many, many years ago when a people who were enslaved experienced a much more significant passover experience. God was about to send judgement over the land and he offered protection for any of His people who was willing to believe. Slay a lamb, wipe the blood over the door post and anyone in the house would be spared. Anyone not in a protected house would experience the death of their first born.

Now the story is too big to go any deeper but the big truth is there. Believe God and live—deny God and die. It was that simple—it is that simple. You see, God offers massive forgiveness—eternal life to anyone who is willing to believe in His Son, His sacrificial death and His amazing resurrection. One day, Jesus was talking to a friend who’s brother had died. He said, “I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in Me will live, even after dying. Everyone who lives in Me and believes in Me will never ever die. Do you believe this?” Wow, what an amazing promise and it was true then…and it is true now.

In these weeks leading to the celebration of Jesus’ death and resurrection, maybe you need to believe. All of us will face the “dirty rain” of death but all of us can also escape the permanent power of death. Oh, we will will die but we don’t have to stay dead.  We can believe in Him and live again. Sound amazing?  It is.  Go ahead and check it out…it’s all in the Bible.  Dare to believe—dare to live again. Oh, if it sounds to hard to believe, remember, the One Who makes the promise has the power to pull it off.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne. 

Posted in communication, life, Scripture, spiritual battles, Trials, wisdom

Just Walk Away

 “I am doing important work and cannot come down. Why should the work cease while I leave it and go down to you?” Four times they sent me the same proposal, and I gave them the same reply.” Nehemiah 3b-4 

Well, it was definitely smarter than me.  We live in a world of smart devices. I remember years ago when phones were just getting smart, and I was all in up to my eyeballs.  Through the years, I have been amazed as device after device got smarter and smarter. Everything from locks to thermostats to televisions got smarter and smarter and smarter.  And then one day, they got smarter than me.

A while back I bought some smart plugs.  These little wonders allow me to control a device either from my smartphone or with my girlfriend Alexa.  I just tell her to turn on the lights and she does.  In my living room, I have several lights all plugged into a couple of these smart plugs.  All I have to do is say, “Alexa, turn on the living room lights” and just like that all the lights come on.  Want to turn them off?  No, problem.  Just tell Alexa and she will turn them off.  How great.  How smart.  How awesome.

Well, one day my smart world came crashing.  All the smart plugs became very not smart.  None of the lights would turn on and none would turn off.  After an hour or so I figured out I needed to restart my internet modem and bam…just like that…we were back in business…almost.  There was one plug that didn’t get the message. It said no, nada, ain’t gone happen.  Well, I figured if I messed with it long enough, I could persuade it to get on board.  I was wrong.

I messed with it and messed with it and then messed with it some more.  It wasn’t a matter of minutes but hours.  I finally gave up and went to bed, but I am not one to throw in the towel.  First thing in the morning, after coffee and Jesus, I started in again and it wasn’t long before all that Good News Jesus stuff had leaked out and I was one frustrated dude.  And just about that time it occurred to me to…just stop…and I did.

I picked up the tools and put them away and walked away.  It occurred me that nothing including a smart plug gone dumb or one that was smarter than me should have that much control over me.  And guess what.  That particular light still does not have a plug…at least not one that is smart.  I might give it another shot one day but that day was not yesterday, is not today and probably won’t be tomorrow.  It just isn’t that important. Let’s be honest…I like to win but there are times when walking away is better than fighting a battle that doesn’t matter.

Someone once told me to be sure and choose my battles carefully.  We need to learn to ask, “Is this a hill worth dying on?”  So often our pride keeps us in the fight long after the fight doesn’t matter—after the fight has long left us. So, when you find yourself beating your head against a wall or bumping into that same stubborn wall, ask yourself, “Does this really matter?” Now if it does you stay in there but if it doesn’t don’t let your pride keep you where you don’t belong.

You know, Jesus knew about “hills worth dying on.”  The one that held Him and His cross, Calvary, was so important nothing, and I do mean nothing, could keep Him from it.  At the same time, He knew when to walk away…to let it go. We should do the same. Nehemiah, one of the guys in the Old Testament, was on mission to rebuild the wall that surrounded his hometown Jerusalem. His enemies kept trying to distract him so he finally said, “I am doing important work and cannot come down. Why should the work cease while I leave it and go down to you?”  Isn’t that great? And four times they tried and four times he said no. He simply refused to leave what mattered for something that didn’t.

So, like the song Kenny Rogers made famous, “You need to know when to hold them, know when to fold them and know when to walk away.” It will not only make your life easier, but it just might also make it more purposeful.  Need a little help figuring out when to do what?  No problem, just ask the One who is never wrong.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne