Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, life, school days, Scripture, thankful

The Emerald Buccaneers

 “The Lord is good to everyone. He showers compassion on all His creation.” Psalm 145:9

We were called the Emerald Buccaneers. There are parts of my childhood puzzle that pieces are just missing..and this is one of them.  As I have mentioned in several stories, the Taylor tribe was not the richest tribe on the block.  My Daddy worked at the Naval Air Station as a jet engine mechanic. He worked hard and he worked steady so that we could have a roof over our heads and food on the table.  Momma mostly took care of the tribe and, trust me, that was a full time job.  But the bottom line was that often…money was tight.  And then there was this.

I remember one summer, somehow and some way, Momma signed us up for swimming lessons.  They were held at the American Legion which was three or four miles from our house. I have no idea how it happened.  I’m sure it cost and I’m sure there wasn’t money in our limited economy, but we ended up at swimming lessons and I suppose that is how we ended up in the Emerald Buccaneers.

The Buccaneers were a drum and bugle corps sponsored by the same American Legion where we had swimming lessons.  Now what is interesting is we had no affiliation with the American Legion and so I can only imagine that Momma was chatting with someone, and the topic came up and the next thing I know…I was an Emerald Buccaneer.  I believe it must have been around the time I was in Junior High because that was the only time I was in band.  My sisters, I believe, were majorettes.  I played, or attempted to play, the baritone.  As you can imagine, it was quite an adventure.

For the marching season, the Buccaneers would play and march in several parades.  It was quite a big deal, and, in fact, I guess we were pretty good.  I know this is weird but somehow, I was in junior high band for a couple of years and in the Buccaneers for a while but never really learned to read music…well, at least not very good.  But somehow, I pulled it off and on weekends I would put on my fancy uniform that included a black buccaneer hat with a large white feather.  I was a part of something bigger than me and I loved it.

Now this part is fuzzy but the sponsors for the Buccaneers arranged for us to be in a competition.  We were in Jacksonville, Florida and the event was going to take place in Miami and, wait for it, for some reason, Momma let us go.  Now it was a big deal when the Taylor tribe left the county, so it was going to the moon for us to go to Miami…especially without Daddy or Momma. This can only mean two things.  Momma trusted the chaperons and Momma trusted us. I don’t remember a whole lot about the trip or the competition only that Daddy and Momma made it happen.  How about that?

There is a picture in a box somewhere that Momma took, and I am all dressed up in my uniform marching down the street…proudly playing, well, at least blowing on my horn.  And that snapshot makes me smile.  It reminds me once again of the extraordinary lengths my Daddy and Momma went to make our life adventurous.  A member of the “Greatest Generation,” those heroes that did life through the Great Depression and then won World War II, once told me, “We were poor, but we didn’t know it.”  Well, I’m not sure we were poor, but we could see it from the back porch.  But this is what I do know…we didn’t know it.  No, Momma and Daddy, somehow found a way for us to have and do. I love them for that.

I have another parent that found a way for me to have and do. Some ignore Him, some just call Him God, but I have the privilege of calling Him Father.  He found a way for me to come into His family by sending His Son to die on a Roman cross.  His sacrifice made my life possible.  I know my parents sacrificed a lot for the Taylor Tribe, but nothing compares to what God did for me…and for you. As I look back as my life as a kid, I keep remembering the small things that Leslie and Alston did and being amazed at how big they seem now.  I guess time adds perspective.

I know that is true with my Heavenly Father, my Dearest Daddy.  As I look back on my life with all its adventures…I am amazed.  He has indeed been so, so good to me and honestly, to you too. One of the authors of the Psalms said, “The Lord is good to everyone. He showers compassion on all His creation” and I have been around long enough to know that is true. I know I write a lot about God and His goodness and the fact that if we look closely enough we will find reminders of His goodness.  But I guess that is because it amazes me so.

Someone said there are two ways to live…that nothing is a miracle or that everything is a miracle.  Do you know who said that? Albert Einstein.  Turns out he was really smart…in more ways than one.  So, enjoy this day and spend some time remembering the good and forgetting the difficult. Take the time to pause…and believe…that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in communication, friends, life, Military memories, Scripture, thankful, travel, Trials

Zwei or Saar

 “A person’s steps are established by the Lord, and He takes pleasure in his way.” Psalm 37:23

We were so close and yet so far away. It was 1977 and we were brand new at our new assignment in Germany. We had purchased a 1967 Volkswagen station wagon which turned out to have virtually no floorboards just floor mats.  We found that out the first time it rained.  It rained a lot in Germany.  Anyway we named him Herman.  He wasn’t fast, he wasn’t pretty–but he would go…most of the time.

Our friends that lived a couple of hours away invited to come over and spend the weekend with them.  We lived in Sambach which wasn’t too far from Sembach where I worked.  You can probably already tell that things can get confusing in Germany in a hurry.  So, we had been in country about 10 days, we had our international driver’s license which meant I paid someone $15 dollars, and we had Herman.  Not to sound like Gilligan’s Island but we started out on a three hour trip…a three hour trip.

We were heading to a small city called  Zweibrucken.  That is where our friends lived.  The Air Force had a small airbase there where he worked and since Zweibrucken means “two bridges” I assume they had those too.  It was simple.  Get on this highway with your car named Herman and with no floorboards drive about an hour or so, take a left and head toward Zweibrucken.  Not a deal. Right? Well, not so fast.

Soon Judy and I traveling along, excited for a new adventure.  We had no traveling experience in Germany, no maps, it is raining (remember it does that a lot in Germany) so we had miniature swimming pools for floorboards and the antique wipers are just keeping up with the rain.  The directions were simple: drive for about an hour, take a left and head for Zweibruken. We probably should have written that down.

After about an hour we came to a large directional sign.  It said Saarbrucken straight ahead.  Well, Mr. “I’m a man who doesn’t get lost” looked at his sweet, dear “Don’t look at me, I’ve never been out the country before either” wife and said, “Uh was that Saarbrucken we were looking for?”  You know, if you’ve seen one “brucken” you’ve seen them all.

Well, I couldn’t remember, she couldn’t remember so we kept driving and it kept raining.  We drove for quite a while and suddenly found ourselves in Saarbrucken which happens to be on the French border. We also found ourselves on the verge of having to speak French. Since we didn’t speak German either we decided we had better turn around before we started an international incident.

I did a quick turn around and headed back the way we came.  We were disoriented, discouraged and disappointed.  We drove back about 30 miles or so and there we saw a sign:  Zweibruken.  Hallelujah.  I remembered, she remembered—sweet Zweibruken. We exited off of the autobahn (which is German for you can drive fast if you don’t drive a Herman) and as we exit we see our friend just pulling away.  He had come to look for us and was just about to give up.  We saw him, he saw us.  We laughed, we embraced. We had made it.  “Guten Tag.” Guten Tag, indeed!

We still laugh about that crazy story.  Two young people who didn’t know a thing about driving in a foreign country, taking off in a too old Volkswagen station wagon with swimming pools for floor boards, getting lost and can’t ask directions. Yup, life was good. Now if I remember right I was probably frustrated, a bit mad, discouraged and discombobulated. I’m not exactly sure what that means but I am sure I felt it that day.  But the bottom line is we had fun. Even then we laughed at the hot mess we were in.  It was a story we would tell our kids one day.  Well, we have and it still brings a smile to our lips.

I know there is so much craziness today.  So many missteps, so many “I don’t knows,” so many “Saars” when it should have been a “Zwei.” But remember this.  There is a God that is writing this story called your life and He is a God who loves a good adventure.  And the things that we count as disruptions just might be one of His great adventures purposely put in your path for your ultimate good and pleasure.  David in Psalm 37:23 writes, “The steps of a good person are ordered [directed, planned] by the Lord.  And He delights in that path.”  In other words, God has a plan and it is a plan that He has written just for you.

I know I sometimes question my GPS when it takes me down some crazy roads to save a minute or two but I am learning to just enjoy the journey.  Even today, Judy and I love to drive around and try to get lost.  One of my friends said, “Come on down to Pope County.  I can get you lost.”  I might just take him up on it.  I’ll have my trusty GPS and my friend so it should be a great adventure.  I’ll just go along for the ride and rest in Him.  After all, He’s got this.  Guten Tag (Oh…by the way that means Good day!) Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, priorities, Scripture, thankful

Dance With the One Who Brought You

 “But one of them, seeing that he was healed, returned and, with a loud voice, gave glory to God. He fell face down at His feet, thanking Him. And he was a Samaritan.” Luke 17:15-16

Circumstances can make for strange bed fellows. There was a group of guys who hung together–ten of them in fact. Truth be known in another world they would have never been friends. Nine of the guys were Jewish and one was a Samaritan. They lived on opposite sides of the tracks. The Jewish guys would have been raised to believe that the Samaritans were “less than” and the Samaritan would have been raised to believe that all Jews were “better than you” temple goers. Like oil and gas, they wouldn’t have mixed. Leprosy changed all that.

We are not told how, who knows, but they contracted leprosy or the walking death. Their lives were reduced to isolation and suspicion. If you went to Walmart during COVID without a mask, you might know some of how they felt. They were forced to live away, far away, and proclaim their uncleanness to anyone they met. The fact that nine were Jews and one was a Samaritan just didn’t matter anymore.

Well, one day something happened. Luke 17:11-17 tells us Jesus was walking along and He heard this group hollering. They were saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” We aren’t told of how they knew of Jesus or why they believed He could change their lives. All we do know is that they somehow believed and hollered. And Jesus answered.

Over the distance He hollers back, “Go show yourselves to the priest.” There was not a pronouncement of healing. There was only a command to trust. They found themselves at the crossroads of reality and faith. They looked at their diseased bodies and weighed it against faith. A step toward the priest meant they believed. To stand where they were meant “nope.” Well, “hope” beat out “nope” and off they went.

As they took the first step–and the one after that–amazingly they were healed. You could hear the whooping and hollering across the wilderness. Man, were they happy. They were free and they were outta there. Fading in the dust was the Master who had set them free. But wait. One of them is coming back. It is the Samaritan–the unlikely one. He falls down at the feet of the Freedom Giver and gives Him thanks and praise. The unlikely one, and the only one, who gets it right.

Jesus wonders, “Weren’t there ten of these guys?” Weren’t nine of them good Jewish boys?” He was impressed that this “foreigner” came back to say thanks and I think he gets a second helping. Jesus says “Go your way, your faith has healed you.” I think the Samaritan dude got healed of leprosy and a relationship with the healer. He got more–way more.

There are two things we need to pack away from this story. First, the Jesus who was your BFF (that’s best friend forever) during the messes of life wants to be your BFF every day. The One who takes care of your fears and anxieties during the storm wants to take care of them after the storm. He wants to be your Savior, your Redeemer, your Rescuer, not for a while but forever.

Linked to that is this idea of gratitude. When the nine were set free they left Jesus in the dust, “adios,” see you later. They were thankful for the moment but not the minutes following. The Samaritan, however, came back. He was determined not to forget what Jesus had done for him. The right thing, the wise thing, but probably not the popular thing.

The question is, what are you going to do when “this” (whatever that happens to be for you) is all over? Are you gonna run as fast as you can to a life crammed with stuff or are you going remember the One who stood by your side and spoke to your heart? Someone once said if Satan can’t get you to sin…he will keep you too busy. He knows that is just about as good.  You and I need to remember to “dance with the One who brought you.” Over the din of busyness, remember to not forget the One who whispered, “Rest in Me” and “I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Easter, forgiveness, Grace, heaven, life, Scripture, spiritual battles, thankful

Ready, Set–Go!

 “No one takes it from Me, but I lay it down of Myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This command I have received from My Father.” John 10:18

Well, you will probably be reading this on Maundy Thursday—the Thursday before Good Friday—day day of the Last Supper—the launching pad for the greatest event in human history.  This Sunday will be the epitome of the Christian calendar.  That day followers of Christ around the world will be celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

That day, churches around the world will be filled with people who, at least on that day, declare their belief in Jesus Christ and His resurrection from the dead. Most churches will experience their largest attendance of the year. People who attend church infrequently seem to be drawn to worship around Christmas but especially around Easter.

Really that shouldn’t surprise us at all.  At Christmas we feel the warm embrace of a baby coming into the world.  In the case of Jesus, the birth of the Savior of the world…Emmanuel…God with us.  Wrapped in that night is hope…hope that there will be a tomorrow.  But the celebration of Easter goes forward from there.

You see, in Easter…actually in the Christ of Easter we find strength, power and victory.  Buried in each of us is the confrontation with our own mortality…we all must face death.  Short of the rapture, we all are going to face death.  In the celebration of Easter we find that death doesn’t have to be the end…in fact, it is a beginning of sorts.

When Jesus willingly died on Good Friday and demonstrated His power over death by resurrecting Sunday morning, He forever proclaimed that mankind no longer had to fear death.  I love what He said in John 10:18.  Speaking of His death, He said, “No one takes it from Me, but I lay it down of Myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This command I have received from My Father.” 

Isn’t that just incredible?  I lay my life down and then I can take it up again.  It is that power that led Paul to write in Philippians 3:10 “that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection…”

Really, there is such power in all of this that the resurrection and the One who was resurrected must be the center of our worship every week.  This most likely is the reason the first century church worshiped on Sunday. They understood the power of this great truth.  Think about it–no other man–no other religious leader or teacher–no one ever did what Jesus did.  It was so big that 2100 years later we are still talking about it.  Incredible.

So, as you read read this may it be your motivation to get ready to celebrate this Sunday and every Sunday. Not only does this truth have the power to change our lives—it also can change the way we worship. Begin now, right now, to prepare for the biggest Sunday of the year. If you’re not sure how, just as the One who pulled all of this off. Believe me…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Easter, Family, heaven, life, Scripture, spring, thankful

The Awakening

 “I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of His resurrection.” Philippians 3:10

Like it or not…it was time.  Every spring and summer, my wife and I are blessed to have one of the most beautiful yards on our street.  Some people say it is one of the most beautiful yards in town.  When we moved to 217 West Poplar Street, it was a blank canvas.  There were literally no flowers and no flowering trees.  Judy, who has a green thumb, over the years has made our yard into several beautiful gardens.  She plants it and it grows.

Well, every fall, as the temperatures fall, some things go to sleep, and some things just die.  The perennials go to sleep to be awakened the next spring and the annuals die and will have to be replanted or reseeded. Fall and winter leave a carnage of dead stems, leaves, and blooms and before the perennials can be awakened, last year’s carnage needs to go.  There’s where I come in.  She is the “make it happen” person and I am the “cleanup the carnage” person.  So, every later winter or early spring, I have my work cut out for me.

On the weekends or during the week, I would come home from work and select a section of the yard to cleanup.  Using my string trimmer (hey, don’t laugh…it works), my rake, my loppers, and a couple of other tools for good measure, I would whack, cut, trim and rake my way through each flower bed.  When I was done, I would have a clean slate for the coming spring.  If you saw all this when I was done, it would look pretty empty.  You would think, “Nothing is gonna happen there.”  But you would be perfectly wrong.

You see, beneath the soil, all those perennials (plants that come back year after year) that have slept all winter, that for all practical purposes seemed dead, are about to spring (no pun intended) back to life.  Green sprouts will be pushing up everywhere.  Before long what was bare is filled with new life and what is filled with new life will soon be filled with the beautiful blooms of spring and summer.  It really is quite amazing.

Well, let me just tell you.  For several days, I went out and did my carnage removal thing.  And, let me just tell you it can be hard work.  My arms were tired, my shoulders ached, and I was thoroughly and completely pooped.  Somewhere along the journey, I lost my vision—not my eyesight—the big picture. All I knew was I was tired and that there seemed to be no end to the carnage of last fall and winter.  But then it hit me, and my focus returned.

It wasn’t just work. It wasn’t just something that had to be done.  I was on a mission.  I was preparing for…resurrection.  My work for those days was work with purpose.  As I cleared away the old, I was making way for the new.  And because of my faithfulness in late winter or early spring—the resurrection could happen.  Even now the yard is being transformed as green sprouts are breaking through the dirt and reminding me that my work was not in vain.  It has a purpose.

In a few days, we will be celebrating another resurrection and this one is the biggie.  We are going to celebrate the fact that two thousand years ago, a man—the God-man—willingly died on a Roman cross to pay the price for the sins of the entire world.  The bottom line is anyone who is willing to believe and choose to follow Him can have the privilege of calling God—Father. But Jesus didn’t just die.

See, anyone can die on a cross and claim anything.  Jesus didn’t stay dead—He physically and completely came back to life.  He resurrected and one of the reasons He did was to prove that He was who He said He was and could do what He said He could do. His death shouted, “I love you” and His resurrection shouted, “I am victorious over death.”  Wow.  So, here’s the deal.  

Remember I mentioned in a few days we were going to celebrate the “biggie?”  Well, this is what I was talking about.  And these days are like my time preparing the gardens for their resurrection.  These days are a time for us to prepare our hearts and minds for the big event—Resurrection Sunday.  The more I prepare the gardens for their resurrection, the bigger the celebration of life as they sprout and bloom.  And guess what?  It’s true with Easter.  The more we prepare, the bigger the celebration. Like Paul, said, “I want to know Christ—yes, to know [to celebrate] the power of His resurrection.”

Each time I went to work in the yard I had to make a conscious decision to prepare the gardens for resurrection.  Wanting to, longing to, intending to, just wouldn’t cut the mustard.  It is time for us to prepare to celebrate His resurrection.  Wanting to, longing to, intending to, just won’t get the job done.  There is a reason to celebrate—because He lives—we too can live.  So, start today, get ready for the biggie—the resurrection of Jesus.  Need help in preparing? Not sure how? No problem.  The One who made it all possible is a great party planner.  Just ask Him.  He’s got that, too.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Easter, friends, Grace, gratitude, love, Scripture, spring, thankful

One Ugly Cross

 “For the word of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but it is the power of God to us who are being saved.” 1 Corinthians 1:18

Good Friday and Easter are right around the corner and I want to share something that happens every year at our church. It is the story of a cross.  I know all Christian churches have crosses, in fact, we have several.  But each Easter there is a special cross that sits at the entrance of our church.  And it has a story to tell.

A while back our church had two services on Sunday morning—one early and one later.  When people came to our early service on Easter morning, they were greeted by what can only be described as one ugly cross.  It is made of weathered 2×4’s and covered with…chicken wire.  I am sure more than one person sees that cross and wonders how the custodian could forget to store it before services started. What they wouldn’t know is something is going to happen to that old rugged cross…something that will make it beautiful.

Long ago, there was another old rugged cross and it too was ugly.  It was “repurposed” as criminal after criminal was hung from it.  Nails were driven through human flesh and blood was spilt.  Rome didn’t take kindly to those who rebelled against their stern and unfair system of “justice.”  Like the cross in our foyer, it didn’t need to be displayed…it needed to be hidden.  Then, one day, something different happened. Something different indeed.

So, what about the ugly cross at our church?  Well, you see during the time in-between our two services a wonderful transformation would take place.  The ladies would take dozens of beautiful flowers and completely cover the cross and piece by piece, bloom by bloom, that ugly old cross became beautiful.  And two thousand years ago, the same thing happened.

I know, the thought of Jesus, the Rose of Sharon, the perfect Lamb of God, nailed to a Roman cross, well, is anything but beautiful…until we remember.  We remember that He was no held by nails of iron but by love.  We remember that He was there not for His own sin but for ours.  He was there so that we could call His Father our Father and suddenly His old, rugged cross takes on a new beauty.  It is a beautiful picture of love, sacrifice, and redemption.

Perhaps that is what led the hymn writer to write, “On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross—the emblem of suffering and shame. And I love that old cross where the dearest and best for a world of lost sinners was slain.” Perhaps the author was able to see past the blood and gore to a Savior’s blessed glory. Perhaps he saw what we should see…what we need to see. Paul saw it…that is why he wrote, “For the word of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but it is the power of God to us who are being saved.” No doubt.

Well, at the end of our second service, people would stop and pose by the now beautiful cross and its beautiful blooms.  Its beauty reminds us that instead of an instrument of death, it was an instrument of redemption.  Its beauty shouts that He is no longer hanging on a cross, He is no longer tucked away in a borrowed tomb, no, He is alive…He lives.  Hallelujah…what a Savior…what a Redeemer…what a Rescuer.

Each year on the Monday after Easter, our cross was stripped of its now dying flowers and it was stored away to be rediscovered next year.  But let’s make a point to never forget what the old, rugged cross is all about…redemption, rescue and love.  Let’s gather each week, whether it is Sunday or another day, and celebrate an old rugged cross and an empty tomb.  Because they are both empty, we have a reason to celebrate.  Need a little help with that? Don’t worry…He’s got that.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Easter, Family, gratitude, life, love, Scripture, thankful

The Easter Suit

 “But God demonstrated His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8

It’s just another one of those special memories.  It was spring in Jacksonville, Florida and number fifteen or so in my life journey.  Back in those days, Easter was a big deal, and so was what you wore.  We were raised in the tradition that Easter meant a new outfit…it is just what we did.  But just like Christmas beliefs and traditions sometimes change…so did this Easter tradition.  As we got older…the new outfits got fewer but then, for some reason, it happened.  One year, when I was about fifteen, Momma and Daddy loaded me up in the car, drove across town to a men’s store for the sole purpose of buying me an Easter suit.

I’m not sure what prompted this or a hundred other sacrifices they made for us but it happened.  The name of the store is lost to time but it may have been Tatum’s—a store known for quality men’s clothing at a good price.  So we arrived and went in and soon I was trying on suits.  They say some things never change and that is true.  Today when I shop for just about anything it isn’t the label that matters or even the style—price takes the day.  It is a matter of practically and budget.  It is true today because it was true then.  Remember, somethings don’t change.

Soon, with the help of our salesperson, we had settled on a subtle green tweed suit.  It was a very nice suit and the price was very reasonable.  I would later realize that might have been because it was a rather heavy wool material and there wasn’t a lot of demand for it in Florida.  Regardless, it was soon mine.  But Momma and Daddy weren’t done.  The salesman led us over to the shirt department and we picked out a creamy yellow shirt that matched the suit perfectly.  But wait…there was more.  Next came a tie.  To this day I can remember this—my first tie—bought just for me.  It was a linen, striped tie made of pastel colors.  Again, a perfect match for the new suit and tie.

There was some tailoring to the done but by Easter morning I was set and dressed to the nines.  That morning, I assembled my new outfit and proudly headed off to church.  I was so proud but for a special reason…one you have read before in Grits.  I was proud because of all my parents had done to make sure I had a new Easter suit. Why that year? I don’t know.  Maybe it was because I was stepping into manhood.  That year, and most years that followed, the subtle green wool suit was too warm to wear but that never stopped me from wearing it.  It was special and that was all that mattered. It was a suit of love…a suit of sacrifice.

Looking back their Easter sacrifice is made even more special. You see, that gift and sacrifice was at least a little like the gift and sacrifice that God made for us that first Easter.  He gave His best, His only Son to a Roman cross so we could be forgiven and dressed in His righteousness.  And unlike my suit that was a little too warm for Florida…His gift was perfect…in more ways than one. A perfect sacrifice for an imperfect world filled with imperfect people. And why? Because of love.

Easter, Resurrection Sunday, is just around the corner but it would serve us well to remember that every time the sun rises, it reminds us of the resurrection.  It is no accident that Christians worship on Sunday…by design it is a celebration of the resurrection. I’m not sure how long I held onto that subtle green, too warm, suit but I have never forgotten the love that bought it for me.  And, I’m sure I will never forget the love of a God who cared enough to give His very best so that we could call Him “Dearest Daddy.” 

Paul, one of the writers of the New Testament wrote a letter to the Christians in Rome.  In it, he gave them an Easter suit of sorts, a reminder of God’s great love.  He wrote, “But God demonstrated His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”  Imagine that—broken and unworthy—and yet He loved and He gave.  Today and each day, don’t leave the message of Easter behind.  He loves us, He cares for us, and He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

Prayer–Healing and Grace

 “Three different times I begged the Lord to take [the pain] away. Each time He said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:8

I woke up and it was there. “It” was a more than subtle discomfort in my right hip. I found that I could still function but it kinda was a pain in the rear…pun definitely intended. In the past, I found this might happened when I would sit too long in my church office crafting and building messages. Sometimes hours would pass before I realized I needed to stand and walk around. Too often my sciatic nerve, the largest and longest nerve in our body, would get aggravated and when it did it let me know it. In those cases it would last a couple of days and then we would declare peace. That was then. This time…it didn’t.

Well, the bottom line is it got worse and worse and finally it was time to see the doctor. On the Friday before we left to visit sick relatives in Georgia, we talked and he suggested increasing my ibuprofen and doing some stretching exercises. I did both and left for Georgia.  Well, it continued to got worse and worse. Before long each step…e.a.c.h. s.t.e.p…resulted in some of the worse pain I can remember. I was pretty sad, pretty unhappy and pretty despondent. So, I finally decided I should pray.

I was set to preach on Sunday and I wasn’t too sure I could. So, I talked to God. I told Him I was certain that He could heal me. That was plan one. Plan two involved asking Him to give me the grace to endure and trust Him…it’s what Paul did in 2 Corinthians 12. So we walked on…limped on…waiting and trying to trust. Fast forward to Saturday afternoon. Just about then the pain began to slack up. It didn’t disappear but it was so much less I could walk without limping. I knew right away that God had heard my prayer and was in the process of healing my leg and giving me grace. He gave me a combo answer…some plan one and some plan two.

Well, there is much more to the story but since I am limited to about 500 words or so we will leave it there. What you need to know is I was simply overwhelmed with God’s goodness and faithfulness. And, in some crazy way, I was able to begin to thank Him for the experience of pain. Why? How? Well, because of all of this I experienced His kindness to answer my prayer—to heal and to extend grace. Without the pain of it all…I would have missed that blessing. How about that?

I want to leave you with two thoughts. First, never, ever forget the goodness and kindness of God. You see, the fact is God has never stopped being good…we just stopped being grateful. His goodness is everywhere…we just need to be sure and find it and see it. Remember, God doesn’t just do good—He is good. He is good when there is pain and when there is not.

The second thing I want to leave with you is a quote from our old friend, Charles Spurgeon. He said, “I have learned to kiss the wave that throws me against the Rock of Ages.” Now that is good. We know we have traveled a long way down the road of faith when we can honestly thank Him for the good things He sends our way—and for the difficult things too. We learn far more in the hard times than in the good times. We learn the way of trust and faith and we learn that no matter what, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in friends, gratitude, life, Scripture, thankful

Pickup Offer

 “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.  A while back, 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 his great, big, shiny pickup truck.

I called, he said yes, and soon Judy and I were on our way to pick up 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 riding 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.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in life, missions, priorities, school days, spiritual battles, thankful

Gnats and Distractions

 “I will meditate on Your Precepts and think about Your ways. I will delight in Your Statutes; I will not forget Your Word.” Psalm 119:15-16

Gnats…little in size…big in bother. Well, if you are a regular Grits reader you might know two things.  First I was raised in the South and two, well, sometimes I had to great creative to have fun.  Often, that involved the variety of bugs that called 6008 Carlton Road home.

Being a warmer climate we were blessed with a wide variety. There was the standard house fly, your common cockroach, the black ants, red ants, and fire ants. There was also dragon-flys, love bugs and the mosquitoes.  We won’t even talk about spiders. Each one had its place in life—flies were flies and they sure knew how to make eating outside a pain.

The cockroach was almost a southern institution.  It seemed that even the cleanest house had one or two. Since our house was older and had a few more places for them to enter…well, we sometimes had more than a few.  The ants could inflict a world of hurt so we tried to stay away from them, the dragonfly was fun to catch, The love bug was fun to shoot with rubber bands and the mosquito was just a pain–the buzz drove you nuts and the bite itched like crazy.

There was one other bug though that really, really was a bother…a distraction…an annoyance…the pesky gnat.  For those of you who don’t know the gnat is a small flying bug that just loves to buzz around your head.  Whether it is your mouth, your eyes, your nose or your ears they just love to buzz.  What is interesting is that they don’t bite–they just buzz–they just distract.  If you are eating…they distract you.  If you are sleeping…they interrupt.  If you are talking…you spend your time swatting at them.  And you need to add that the fact that there is rarely one gnat…usually there are a whole lot.  They know there is strength in numbers.  

Well, thanks for reading and there you go.  Oh wait, surely there is more to the story than that. Well, there is.  You see, there is supposed to be a spiritual application to this story on bugs, isn’t there? Well, here it is.  You see, Satan knows that a distracted believer is an ineffective believe.  He knows that a distracted church is a powerless church.  He is a powerful instigator of distractions.  On an individual basis, here in America you couldn’t put the distractions on a single piece of paper.  Everything from career pressure to our hobbies distracts us from God.

As a church, the distractions are just as obvious.  Take what has been labeled “worship wars.”  Think of all the time and energy that has been wasted trying to decide if a church should use a hymnbook or project the words on a screen and whether they should sing hymns, choruses or a combination of the two.  How about translation wars?  We have the KJV, NKJV, NIV, TNIV, ESV, HCSB, NASB, and the NLT to name just a few.  Whew.

And here’s the deal:  All the time and energy we are using being distracted is time and energy that is not used to doing what we should be doing:  sharing the great news of Jesus Christ with a lost world.  Believe me, Satan knows this well…hence the distractions. I like what William Hendriksen said: “It was to save sinners that Christ Jesus came into the world. He did not come to help them to save themselves, nor to induce them to save themselves, nor even to enable them to save themselves. He came to save them.”

That is the heart of God…that is our mission.  So, how about we try and ignore the gnats and get about the mission–being Jesus…sharing Jesus.  Ok, this really is the end. Well not quite. In case all this bug swatting and trying to stay on track has you overwhelmed, just remember…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne