Posted in Family, fear, life, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, Trials

Shiny, Like New…but Dangerous

Don’t answer the foolish arguments of fools, or you will become as foolish as they are.” Proverbs 26:4

It was deadly but I didn’t know it. There was always something to find at 6008 Carlton Road. Like so many older, country home places things had a way of accumulating. Back in those days there were several unsanctioned dumps around the countryside, and no one thought a thing about using them—it was just part of living out in the county. The problem, at least for the Taylors, was we didn’t own a truck and, except for my brother who lived sometimes in Texas and sometimes across town, we didn’t know anyone who did.  So, we had stuff laying around.

One of the things we had laying around was an old washing machine.  It had long since quit working so it sat in the lawn behind the junk room for a long time.  It was there that I found something quite amazing.  In the lid, I think, was some short of “switchy” thing. It had wires connected to it and in the middle was a glass thing and in that glass thing was some silver liquid. Well, you can bet that that caught my eye. So, I decided that I needed to get it out of there. So, I cut it free from the old washing machine, put it in some sort of small container and found something—who knows what—and broke the glass.

The silvery stuff stuck together in a small puddle and if I took my finger and pushed it around it would always come back together.  I also found out that some of it would stay on my finger. Now I have no idea how this part happened, but I am certain it did.  Somewhere, somehow, I found a dime.  Now trust me that was no small deal because that in those days that would buy a Coke and a Snickers, so it was big money. So, I found this dime and for some reason, I put it next in the silvery stuff and guess what happened?

Well, what happened is, for whatever reason, the silvery stuff stuck to that dime like white on rice.  There were two things I didn’t know then that I know now.  First, back in those days the silver coins like dimes and quarters were really made of silver.  Second, that silvery stuff was something called mercury and apparently mercury likes silver and what happened next was almost magical.  No matter how bad that dime looked, when the mercury got all over it, it looked better than brand new.  It went from dull and old to looking shiny and new.  Like I said, it was pretty amazing. Well, I never found out exactly how long the dime looked that way because it pretty quickly made its way to the Minute Market down the road for that Coke and Snickers.

Well, I didn’t know that I was playing with something that was pretty dangerous—mercury.  We know now that mercury is nothing to mess with.  We know that it can cause some serious health concerns.  In fact, the people who build stuff aren’t allowed to use it anymore.  Between mercury and the lead paint our house was painted with, it’s probably a miracle we all turned out ok.  Of course, you can probably tell from these stories that I always was just a little different—adventurous but just a little hyper.  I’m sure I had some sort of syndrome and didn’t know it.

This caused me to wonder how many things do we have laying around in our lives that just like mercury…and the lead paint for that matter…are dangerous and poisonous? I wonder how many toxic habits or relationships we hang on to and handle either because we don’t know or are just too stubborn to let go? It reminds me of the monkey trap where someone would build a cage and put a banana in it.  A monkey would come along and reach into the cage for the banana only to discover that he could get his hand out with the banana.  Too often, rather than let it go, they would hang on too long and end up either in a zoo or some native’s stew pot.  Hmmm.

King Solomon, the guy who wrote the book of Proverbs in the Old Testament, was one of the wisest men ever to live.  He said, “Don’t answer the foolish arguments of fools, or you will become as foolish as they are.” In other words—steer clear of fools and folly or you are bound to end up in deep weeds.  The crazy part about King Solomon is that in the end he ended up not taking his own good advice.  Let me encourage you, and me for that matter, to be careful about the things we allow to stick around in our lives.  Like the dime, it may look shiny and new, but it just might be dangerous…very dangerous.  Need some insight, a little wisdom?  No, problem just ask, and God will be glad to help.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Grace, gratitude, life, love, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials

Mysterious Ways

Those who look to Him for help will be radiant with joy.”
Psalms 34:5

They say that God works in mysterious ways…and I believe He does.  Throughout my years as an adult believer, God has shown up in different ways and it always leaves me feeling very grateful.  When people ask me can God be trusted, without hesitation, I can give an unqualified yes.  And I can say that not only because the Bible tells me so but because of the times He proved Himself.  Some were big and some were small but each one, every one, was significant and real.

Let me tell you a story.  When my wife Judy and I were married I was a buck sergeant in the Air Force and, well, things were quite lean.  With a lot of help from the Lord (and that’s another story), we were able to travel to Germany together for a three-year stint.  We loved it but honestly things were even more financially tight there than here.  With the fluctuation of the German Mark and the fact that things just cost more—there were plenty of times when there was more month than money.  It was during one of those times that God showed off.

Judy and I had gone to the Base Exchange (the store on base) to get a few things that we had to have.  It was one of those times when there was more month than money and we had to choose what was important very carefully.  Well, I don’t remember the details, but we had a discussion right there in the store about what to do.  Now when I say discussion, it wasn’t exactly a friendly chat, but neither was it a hollering match.  In fact, I’m grateful because I don’t think we’ve ever had one of those.  But anyway, it was a little “heated.”

Well, we made our way to the front of the store and the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.  Like I said, I don’t remember the details, but it was all about money—or rather, the lack of it. And, I can probably say with certainty that most of the heat was coming from Sergeant Taylor and not his sweet wife. So, there we were standing in line, me yakking and sweet Judy holding her tongue.  And just about then…it happened. Believe it or not, over the din of the crowd I heard something sliding…being pushed on the tile floor.  I looked down.

As I looked down, there at my feet, was a crumpled up twenty-dollar bill.  I was shocked. I couldn’t believe it. I think I said, “Judy, look down.”  We both were flabbergasted.  Apparently, and I do believe this to be right, that crumpled up twenty-dollar bill was just what we needed to get past whatever crisis we were going through.  Now, to put your mind at ease, there wasn’t any way to determine who had lost or dropped the money. As far as I am concerned God had acted on our behalf.  He put it there.  He is the One who somehow caused me to hear the slightest of sound of paper on a tile floor.  It was my Father who caused me to look down.

Well, we picked up the gift and went to the cash register and paid for our items with what God had provided.  It was amazing.  What else is amazing is how quick my demeanor changed too. Frowns changed to smiles. Frustration turned to peace. Hopelessness changed to hope. You know, I personally believe that things like this happen all the time—everyday and in various ways.  The reason we don’t usually see them is that we aren’t looking. The reason we don’t recognize them is we tend to explain them away.  Small miracles become mere happenstance and sadly, we miss the blessing, and He misses His glory.

All the events of that day were the orchestration of my Dearest Daddy.  The tight budget that I looked on with distain was the setup for God’s grand provision.  Without the first, the second wouldn’t have happened.  One of the authors of the Psalms wrote and said, “Those who look to Him for help will be radiant with joy.” And, that Grits family, is the truth.  So, starting now, starting today, let’s look carefully, let’s listen carefully for the Whisperer whispering, “Don’t worry child…I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, life, loving others, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials, USA, wisdom

Black Rock

You are my rock and my fortress.” Psalm 31:3

It was worth the wait.  My wife Judy and I decided to hit the road for a quick trip to Dayton, Ohio.  It all started when my son-in-law sent me a picture from the National Air Force Museum located in, wait for it, Dayton. Being an Air Force veteran, I had heard of it but had never taken the opportunity to go and see it.  When he sent me a couple of pictures…I knew it was time.  So, we loaded up and drove up and over and in about five hours we were there.

Let me just say it was worth every mile.  The museum is housed in four huge hanger type buildings and each hanger held a different era of air history.  The first was the period from the Wright brothers to World War I, the second was World War II, the third was the Korean and Cold Wars and finally the last was filled with Vietnam and the years following.  Literally hundreds of aircraft were on display, and I was in awe.  My favorite was World War II because, like so many, I admire what Tom Brokaw called “the Greatest Generation.” Their commitment and sacrifice were and still is amazing.  While war is never romantic, the sight of these brave men and women and their flying machines, stirred powerful emotions of a time gone by.

Well, after the museum, we did what everyone does…eat.  Using our GPS, we navigated our way to a large shopping area and saw a restaurant called “Black Rock.” We asked someone and they assured us it was very good, but they also said we probably couldn’t get in. We decided to try anyway.  Well, we could get in, but it was going take about 45 minutes. So, we added our names to the wait list and waited.  Sure enough, about 45 minutes later, the text came, and we were in.

The place was packed and loud so were excited to see what all the uproar was about.  Our server came to our table, and she explained what they are most famous for…a black rock.  Here’s the deal.  If you order steak, they bring it to your table…raw. They also bring a square chunk of black lava rock that is heated to—wait for it—755 degrees.  The raw meat is sizzling in the middle of the rock, and you get to cook your own steak.  You slice off a bite size piece of steak, lay it on the 755-degree rock in a puddle of melted garlic butter and in about 15 seconds for each side—you are ready to eat. It was awesome.

With a special creamy steak sauce for dipping, well, it really was just delicious.  I know and you know the rock idea is a hook, a crowd getter but it was more.  There was something special about slicing and cooking your meat on that super-heated rock.  While the food tasted so good—the experience was more—much more. I think my man genes were set to high as I sliced a chunk of raw meat and cooked it for my wife. I felt like the hunter, gatherers of old. I could almost hear the wolves howling in the distance.

Now trust me.  If they had brought that piece of meat already cooked, I would have said it was a pretty good steak, but the rock changed everything. The sound of sizzling meat changed everything. In other words, some things change everything and that was true that night, but it is truer every day, in every way, and everywhere—when that Rock is Jesus. Just like the rock changed the meal, the presence of the Rock of Ages in our lives makes all the difference in the world.

And get this—it had to be the rock.  A small charcoal fire, nope.  A propane gas burner, nope. An electric burner, nada. It was the rock, that 755-degree, meat sizzling, butter melting rock that changed it all. And I want you to know that it is the Rock of Ages that can burn away all the dross of sin that separates us from God.  If you are willing to let Him, He wants, He waits to forgive and give you a fresh start.  It is something that being good, that church, that religion just can’t do.  It is a singular act of God and His grace that makes the difference. It is what caused the writer of Psalms to pen, “You are my rock and my fortress.”

So, if you ever see a restaurant named, “Black Rock” whip in an experience the cooking power of a 755-degree piece of black lava rock.  And, if you find yourself down and out and out of luck, remember to look for the Rock of Ages.  He is waiting to forgive you and call you His own.  He is waiting to change your life forever.  He’s waiting to whisper, “I’ve got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

Z-Pack and the Man Cold

Always be joyful. Never stop praying.  Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus. 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

They call it a z-pack.  It is called that because nobody can pronounce azithromycin.  Whatever it is called it–it works.  You know the story.  You are humming along, life is good and then you throat feels a little scratchy, your nose is a little stuffy and before long you feel awful.

Now let me explain awful.  If you are a man that means it is pretty much terminal.  It is a matter of minutes before the end comes.  Someone call 911.  If you are a woman, it means that life just became a little more challenging but hey people are counting on you, so you will push through.

Man or woman–terminal or not–you will probably call and make an appointment to see the doctor.  He will determine, much to the man’s surprise, that it is not terminal.  It is an upper respiratory infection.  Then he may prescribe our friend azithromycin or a z-pack.

A z-pack is a course of five pills, often two are taken the first day and one per day for the next three.  If you are a man, you take the first two and go to bed.  If you are woman, and in in particular a mother, you take the first two and go on with life.  The good news everybody generally survives.

I find too often in life this happens to me on another level. I am humming along, and life is good.  The mild speed bumps and occasional potholes of life are navigated with little or no trouble.  But then it happens. The smallest of infractions and I find myself going off–losing it.  Something doesn’t go just according to plan, and I am seething.  I don’t get my way and so everyone better stay out of my way. I’’ve been infected.

No doctor is needed for this one.  It is called selfish-itis.  Let me say that again…selfish–itis.  Yup…for some reason it all becomes about me–or you.  While it’s caused by several things it often find’s it’s source in a little virus called “why me.”  I mean I understand why the neighbor deserves bad things; he is mean as a snake.  And my brother-in-law hasn’t worked for months.  Of course, then there is Cousin Eddie, never mind, we won’t even go there.

Well, the good news is there’s a z-pack for it and it is fast and effective.  Take three “pills” and before long you will be humming again.  The z-pack is found in 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 and consists of three powerful truths that will kick the “selfish-itis” bug in no time.  Here’s the z-pack. “Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances.” There you go–be joyful, pray always and be thankful.”  Bye-bye blues and hello cancel the 911 call. Three simple truths, three simple practices.

A while back I got ahold of a great definition for Biblical joy.  It is “a deep sense of inner well-being based on faith in God and trust in His sovereign will.”  Now that’s powerful. Boom.  It is what we close everyday with, “He’s got this.”  It’s true and He does.

Praying always is simply like breathing.  It becomes second nature and an essential part of life.  You don’t even need your knees to pray.  You don’t need to close your eyes–especially if you are driving.  It is a whisper to God as needed, when needed.  And it works.

The last one is gratitude.  It is learning to be thankful for the smallest detail in your life.  News flash–God is a God of the details.  That little deal you are concerned about is not little to Him.  He loves His kids and wants them to know He will be there.  Now that doesn’t mean you get every toy in the toy store.  It does mean that He will be there whenever, forever.

The last part of verse 18 is huge.  It says, “For this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.”  He wants you to do this not for three days but every day.  He wants you to be fulfilled and at rest and these simple truths will put you on the right road.

So, men, put on your big boy socks and push on.  Ladies–remember we men struggle with the small things, so be sure and show a little mercy when we are terminal–or at least think we are.  God does and He does it not only for the men but for all of us.  He invites us to crawl up in His lap and rest in Him.  And listen close, He’s whispering, “I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in birthday, Christmas, Family, friends, gratitude, life, love, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Keep What You Treasure

You don’t love me or each other as you did at first! Look how far you have fallen! Turn back to me and do the works you did at first.” Revelation 2:4-5

I was so excited…until I wasn’t.  Every new, store-bought toy was cause for big excitement at 6008 Carlton Road.  Like I’ve said before there were plenty of things laying around that a kid like me could turn into a toy. Sticks became guns and China berries became bullets.  In my eight-year-old world, a trip into the woods was as good as a trip to Africa.  But let’s be honest.  Nothing could quite beat a store-bought toy.

New toys usually showed up two times a year.  First, of course, was Christmas.  I would anxiously wait for the wish books to show up in the mail so I could start wishing.  Sometimes there were trips to the department stores downtown to window shop the trains and planes that were there on display. I remember letters to Santa, and to Momma and Daddy just in case he wasn’t available.  I would state my case and then wait for the big morning and though we never got everything we want—what we got was more than enough.

The other time that store bought toys came to 6008 was on our birthdays.  As I wrote those words, I am still amazed at how good my parents were to us…willing to do whatever it took to give us a Merry Christmas and a Happy Birthday.  I remember too that a lot of years there was a birthday party in the plans and that multiplied the gifts and the memories.  It was just all good.  In the days that followed Christmas and January 6 (my birthday and the original Christmas Day before some Pope changed it) I would play and play with those new toys…until I didn’t.

There always came a time when I got too rough and it broke, or I got bored as the newness wore off, or I just moved on to something else…but it always happened.  The thing I thought I couldn’t live without became a discarded memory.  One of my favorite Christmas toys was a Daisy double-barrel BB gun. I loved that gun and if I had taken care of it, today it would be very valuable.  Well, I didn’t.  I learned at my brother’s funeral that apparently his son and my nephew claimed it after I had discarded it.  Where it went from there is anybody’s guess.

The truth is we are a fickle bunch.  We soon enough grow tired of whatever is our current fancy and before long what was yesterday’s treasure is today’s trash.  Rarely do we care for things the way we should. While it is true of toys, unfortunately, it is also true of the more important things in life.  We give our word about something but find it only lasts while it is convenient.  We make vows to love someone “till death do us part” and too often rewrite the deal to read, “till I change my mind.”  We build our character and then trade it to save face.  We often sell the truth so we can buy a lie for the same reason—convenience or pride.

It is amazing how quick we grow tired of the toys, people, and values in our life.  We say we value this or that but as soon as this or that becomes difficult or inconvenient, well, what once mattered suddenly doesn’t anymore.  So, what should we do?  Good question.  I believe the root of the answer lies in remembering. Someone once said before you quit you need to remember why you started in the first place.  That’s good.  And before we discard, something or someone, we need to remember what caused us to make the commitment in the first place.

In the book of the Revelation, near the end of the Bible, Jesus spoke and said this, “You don’t love me or each other as you did at first! Look how far you have fallen! Turn back to me and do the works you did at first.” Those are powerful words…words that we should pay attention to.  If we do, perhaps, we will be slower to throw away, to walk away, or run away from the things that matter…what we used to value.  The really good news is that the God who created us never, ever grows tired of us.  We are as precious to Him as the first day we met Him.  He loves us so much and wants to help us.  In other words, as always, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in friends, Grace, gratitude, life, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Too Much Spaghetti

A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength.

Proverbs 17:22

I cooked way too much spaghetti.  Well, I guess it is all official.  Things are back to normal.  You see, I am a pastor/teacher/preacher. That means I have the privilege of serving with a bunch of people in a church and have the opportunity to share truth from the Bible…sometimes several times a week.  It is something that I truly enjoy. When I am sharing something and see the expression on someone’s face change, as if to say, “I get it,” well, it doesn’t get much better than that.

Actually, pastoring is my second career.  I spend twelve years in the Air Force and just loved it and then God came up with another idea.  I separated from the Air Force and became a pastor.  That was 40 years ago.  Wow…that sounds like a long time but really it seems like yesterday. When I first starting preaching, my sermons were like 23 minutes long and sometimes that seemed like an eternity…for me and probably for them.  Over the years, things have gotten, well, longer.  Someone once said, “The longer you preach, the longer you preach.”  I believe I can testify to that.

So, before the COVID thing happened, my sermons ran 40-45 minutes. People were kind and most were even grateful for the message but there’s another old saying that says, “Never speak longer than the audience’s seat can bear.”  Well, let’s just same I probably reached and exceeded that limit.  So, when COVID came along and we were on Facebook only, I made a concerted effort to preach a little shorter…usually about 35 minutes.  I was so proud of myself…and then…one day, happened.

One day, I cooked too much spaghetti.  Now that is “code” that I simply prepared too much material.  Even before Sunday, I had cut about 20 percent of the material and I thought that would do it.  It didn’t.  The bottom line is that I preached, gulp, 45 minutes.  Oh my. I don’t think I chased too many rabbits—it was just too much spaghetti.  At the end of the service, I told the folks that I appreciated their patience. They are such a gracious group of people.  I also smiled and told them that it was a great sign that things were definitely back to normal.

I always greet the people as they leave after the service, and something happened that particular day that still has me smiling.  The mother of one of our members was in the service.  I know her and well, she is a friend and a very special lady.  Her husband had passed away and I was privileged to have a part in his service.  As she shook my hand, she shared that because of having to care for her husband and for health reasons she hadn’t been in church for several years.  Then she explained how each week she was sure to listen to our service, and me, on the radio.  I smiled and said how grateful I was.  And then she said, “You know, I sure enjoyed today but you know, at home, I can just turn the radio off when I am ready.”  I laughed, she laughed, and everyone who was standing in earshot did too. It was a precious moment, and it made my day.

This story isn’t about sermons, long or short, but rather it is about the fact that life is back…not totally normal, but I believe something better than what it was.  I’ve said it so many times, it won’t be the same and in some ways that is not bad.  In fact, in some ways, it is just better.  I believe the COVID experience has taught us to love God better and love people better.  I believe the COVID year has taught us to appreciate the small things in life that make life better.

So, there you go.  This week my goal is to preach a little shorter and laugh a little more.  After all the Bible tells us that a cheerful heart is good medicine and I just tend to believe what it says. We can laugh, even in our hot mess world, because ultimately, we are certain of one thing—He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, life, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Sigh…It Happened Again

Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.” Philippians 4:8b

Sigh…it happened again.  Well, twice a year, once in the spring and once in the fall, they do it. They are whoever is in charge and the what is messing with our clocks and minds. They call it “daylight savings time” or DST but they ought to call it “time to mess with your mind.” You know the drill.  On the second Sunday of March they (whoever they are) tell us to set our clocks forward one hour.  That means several things.  First, it means no matter what you try and do you are going to lose an hour of sleep.  It also means that just when sunrise was going to occur at a decent hour, it doesn’t.  And finally, it also means that a bunch of people are either late for church or miss it entirely.  Like I said, “Sigh.”

Part two of all of this occurs in the fall…in November.  It used to be in October but to further confuse everyone they moved it to November.  Now I must admit that coming off of DST is easier than going on.  In the fall, we gain an hour of sleep though by this time we are so used to the new time, the old time seems more like a nasty neighbor than an old friend.  I know, I know—we have more daylight in the evening with DST and besides all that—who gets up that early anyway?  Pause. I’m raising my hand.

Oh, and then there is the other deal.  I know I’m a bit different, but I have a zillion clocks in my house and each one must be reset when the time changes. Now this is when springing forward (that is supposed to make the losing an hour of sleep more fun) is better than falling back.  The bottom line is it is easier to move the hands forward one hour than to stop each clock and then wait for the old time to catch up with the new. I think we might just be better if they would just make up their minds one way or the other and leave things alone.

I was watching the Weather Channel Saturday morning before “time to mess with your mind” day and they did a feature on what happens when you disrupt people’s sleep.  Well, they had this expert lady on the show, and she flat out said all this clock changing is a bad idea. She said it can cause several kinds of social disruptions including car accidents and other end of the world scenarios.  Well, she didn’t actually say that part, but I thought I would add it in.  But I think we do need to make up our minds and let that sleeping dog lie.  And speaking of sleeping dogs, I wonder if DST messes with them too.  She did say it affected pets. Hmmm.

Well, there is a lesson mixed up in all of this.  While it is true when changing the time on our clocks, it is definitely true in life too. Moving forward in life is always better than falling back…you know, falling back into bad habits…falling back into bad relationships…falling back into bad attitudes…well, you get the idea.  As we do life, we need to intentionally choose to move forward.  If you have one of those older clocks that still has hands, there is usually a small knob on the back.  To move the hands forward, you simply turn that knob.  To move life forward, we simply need to keep making the next right decision.

That also means to keep doing what we have been doing that was moving us in the right direction. That might include restarting good habits, reestablishing good relationships, and thinking about how we think. Minding our mind is one of the best habits we can have.  Paul, the guy in the Bible, said so in a letter he wrote to the folks in Philippi.  He said, “Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.” Boom…what great advice.

Well, since I am writing this on Sunday, the day we changed the time, I think I will probably go and take a nap and try to catch up on that hour of sleep. Now that the first “time to mess with your mind” day is over, I have 239 days till the next one.  But, hey, who is counting? Smile. I’m sure glad my Dearest Daddy doesn’t do this “mess with your mind” thing.  He is steady like clockwork—no pun intended.  Don’t worry…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

My Simple Life

So don’t worry about these things, saying, ‘What will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear?’” Matthew 6:31

It was just simpler back then. I got up this morning with a little (or maybe a lot) of coffee, a spot of the Weather Channel, and some Jesus.  Then, I just sat and thought for a while.  On the television was a channel from YouTube that shows live camera feeds from all over the Northeast, and I was just amazed how much it looked like Europe…another time and another place. Then, I thought about my day.  I’m figuring out that each day is His day as He is the maker, the crafter of each one.  I’m also learning that since He owns everything that makes me a steward of the next 24 hours and the events and circumstances He has planned.

Mainly, there is a sermon to polish for Sunday and a funeral to craft for Saturday.  But mainly I’m just waiting to see what is on His mind and honestly, sometimes that is simple and sometimes it is complex.  Regardless, I know it is His plan and it is one that He has determined that will bring good into my life and hopefully some glory to Him.  With all that said, I have to admit there are times that I long for times when things were simpler as in less complex.  While that has happened and surely will happen again, when I was about eight, it was the norm.

When I was eight, I was concerned about very little.  Momma and Daddy were still healthy and every morning there was something for breakfast, something for lunch and something for supper.  There were delicacies like fried potato sandwiches and peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches and if we were short on peanut butter we would just go with the mayonnaise. After breakfast though I would head out to the yard and just do…something.  There were occasional chores like picking up the yard pulling weeds but generally the day was mine. I hadn’t figured the God part out yet.

Because toys, at least the kind you buy at a store, were in short supply, I would go into the junk room—a small room with its own outside entrance and filled with stuff—and see what caught my eye.  There was always something that with a little imagination could become a source of entertainment. First, and one of my favorites, was a piece of chain, usually about six feet long.  You see, our driveway wasn’t paved, that was something rich people had, so it was like a giant sand box.  I found out you could take that piece of chain and drag it behind you, and it became a train. I would watch as the sand flowed in and around the links of the chain leaving a perfect track in the rear.  A chain became a train—imagine that.

In certain times of the year, North Florida—well really the whole state, I guess—was inundated with “love bugs.” They were everywhere and would splat on windshields and clog radiators as cars zoomed down the highway.  They also seemed to love a parked car.  When I would go outside looking for that day’s adventure, they would be all over Daddy’s 1961, light blue, Plymouth station-wagon and whether they knew it or not—they were a target.  I would search the yard and drawers in the kitchen for rubber bands discarded from newspapers, string them together and go hunting.  Stretching them back, I would take aim and one by one pick them off of Daddy’s car.  This could go on for a long while.  I thought I was doing Daddy a favor but turns out the bug’s innards could eat a car’s paint right off. Oops.

While each day was different, each day was simple.  Each day was consistent…little to worry about and an opportunity for fun.  And while that kind of simplicity has long since passed there is another for today.  Today too can be a day with little to worry about and dare I say it, an opportunity for fun.  You see, if you are a Jesus follower, He really wants to take care of the worry part.  In fact, He just flat-out tells us not to worry because if God can take care of the birds…He can take care of us too.  How about that? And the fun part?  Well, that is up to us.  We simply need to learn, to remember what that means and how to do it.  My wife Judy tells me frequently that we need to learn how to celebrate, and she is right, but we also need to relearn how to just have fun.  It probably involves letting go and letting Him so our hands and hearts will be free to be free.

So, what are you worrying about today? What has you bound up like a too tight pair of shoes?  What are you going to do today that is fun?  Now don’t tell me you don’t have time (that is simply a matter of choice) or the money—chain and rubber bands are cheap—smile.  Today, be brave enough to do something different—to make a change. Let it go and let Him.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Taking Care of Family

If you help the poor, you are lending to the Lord—and He will repay you!” Proverbs 19:17

I know I didn’t know them…but I felt I did. As a pastor I occasionally receive a call from either a funeral home or a family that has experienced the loss of a loved one and they don’t have a pastor that can help them.  Well, that happened recently.  A mother had died and her sister, on behalf of the family, contacted me.  Could I help them?  I agreed but I had a request.  I try and make every service personal and special and since I didn’t know her or the family, I asked they provide some personal memories of their mom.  Graciously they did, and in so doing they painted a picture.

She and her husband were blessed with five children—a challenge and a blessing. As they sent the comments to the sister and then to me, it became painfully apparent that life had been financially hard.  Their mother had worked at a local manufacturing plant but was constantly being laid off.  When she was, she worked as a cook at one of the local restaurants.  It finally reached the point where the inconsistency of the one job made the other more attractive and she began working all the time at the restaurant.

She appreciated the consistency of the restaurant job, but it made for an even tighter budget at home.  I was moved by the comments of each one of her children.  They were so appreciative for a Momma that did everything possible to provide for them.  They spoke of gratitude for a roof over their heads, food for their stomach, and heat in the winter.  One spoke of the fact that regardless of the fact that Momma and the family were broke, somehow, someway, she made sure there were presents at Christmas and on their birthdays. That meant a lot to me.

At the service I rhetorically asked, “What does success mean?” It was one of those questions that I didn’t expect an answer…but I got one.  Quietly, one of her sons said, “Being comfortably full.” When he said that it moved me…it still moves me.  In a world where it seems everyone one has so much, in this family’s world abundance was a roof, some heat, food for their stomach and on a real good day, being comfortably full.

After hearing from her son, I went on to say that to me success is owning the things that money can’t buy…the things that don’t come from Walmart or some other store.  Success is five kids who at their Momma’s funeral talk about the sacrifices she made, the hard work she did to make sure they had a roof over their head, some heat, and food in their stomachs.  I then read a story paragraph that someone wrote about success.  It said, “What is success? Success is living well, laughing often, and loving much. Success is gaining the respect of those who know us best; finding and living our purpose and leaving our world better than we found it.” I finished that service in deep appreciation of a 72-year-old mother who did that and so much more.  She gave her five kids a home.

I’ve written several times that money was pretty thin when we were growing up, but I am sure we had more than this family and these kids.  I’ve written before how much I appreciated the fact that Momma and Daddy always made Christmas and birthdays happen.  It may have been courtesy of the local finance company, but it happened.  Now I am reminded that there were and are plenty of people where even that would not have been an option but somehow—they make it happen.

So, I’m just writing to say thank-you to someone I never knew—but felt I did.  I want to say thank-you to five grown up now kids who taught me to appreciate even more deeply what my Momma and Daddy did. They too made it happen whether it was a roof over our heads, or fuel oil in our kerosene tank or food on the table.  Let me encourage you to take the opportunity to thank the ones who made it happen in your life—whether it was years ago or yesterday.  Maybe take the time to whisper a prayer of gratitude for those in your family—or maybe even outside your family—that made it happen.

Maybe, just maybe, you can be one that helps make it happen.  Maybe you know someone who could use a little help.  Maybe God has given you a little more so you can share with those who have a little less. Proverbs 19:17 says, “If you help the poor, you are lending to the Lord—and He will repay you!” I like that.  When we share, we are being the hands and feet of Jesus and that is always a good thing.  You may be the one that your Dearest Daddy uses to whisper in someone else’s ear—someone who is struggling to make it happen.  And what is whispering? “I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Corned Beef Hash

What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent?” Luke 11:11

We were close friends from the start.  Although I was too young to remember, I think it must be true.  I think my very first word must have been…wait for it…”food”.  Then I think my first sentence was, “I’m hungry.”  I’m trying to say that food and I go way back and now I’m an expert on all things food.  Well, wait, maybe not all things.  You see I was raised on good, common food.  Our menu included things like meatloaf and egg salad sandwiches (aka Easter egg salad sandwiches).  There were some things that Momma cooked up, that to a kid, were kinda hard to swallow…no pun intended.  One of those things was tripe (aka cow’s stomach). We called it the “eternal meat” because it was like chewing rubber.  Take one big bite and two weeks later you swallowed.  Definitely-not my favorite.

However, one of the best things that Mama cooked was something called corned beef hash. For that she would cook up some potatoes and then add some corned beef.  I’m not sure why they call it corned beef but I don’t think it has anything to do with corn.  At any rate…it was one of my favorites…well, sorta.  You see, there was a trick to this corned beef thing and Momma knew it and…I knew it.

In the world of Momma’s corned beef there were really two kinds—and they were worlds apart.  First there was fried corned beef hash and then there was boiled corned beef hash.  The fried hash was just as it sounds.  Momma would first fry up some home fried potatoes.  These, friend, are what potatoes were made for…crispy on the outside and tender on the inside.  And if they happened to be fried in lard—well, that was even better.  Then, she would add the corned beef and well, it was pretty much heaven.  I always liked mine smothered in ketchup.  But sometimes she would trick me.  I would ask what was for supper and she would say, “corned beef hash” and for me that had to mean fried because that was the only way it was supposed to be.   It’s kinda like grits—salt, pepper and butter are the only way grits can be grits.

But then, she had an ace up her sleeve.  Sometimes, she made boiled corned beef hash.  That involved boiling and (in my opinion) wasting a pot full of potatoes.  She boiled them till they were almost like mush.  Then she would add the corned beef to the pot and that was it and let me tell you all the ketchup in the world couldn’t redeem what water had done to what was meant to be fried.  I’m still not sure why she fried most of the time but still boiled others.  All I know I was always disappointed because when it comes to corned beef hash—fried always topped boiled.

With some things one way always tops another and that’s how it is with corned beef hash. And never is that truer than when it comes to God and religion.  People today get confused.  You see, God is God and religion is mankind’s frail attempt to reach God.  Try as you like, the only way to know God is by knowing His Son Jesus.  And that’s really cool because His way is a sure deal and man’s way is a sure failure.  Chances are you know someone who was or is totally disappointed in religion and I suppose some folks would speak of their disappointment in God.  But when we understand who He is and what He wants to do for us—that disappointment fades.

Like I said I was always disappointed when Momma boiled something that was clearly meant to be fried. And I’ve been around the church world long enough to know that religion always disappoints but God never does.  I’m learning to trust Him and then believe Him even when that means things didn’t turn out the way I wanted or hoped.  His way is the better way.  If I don’t see it now…I will later.

One time Jesus was talking about prayer and said that a father would never give a snake to his son who asked for a piece of fish.  Nope…not gonna happen.  With God the fried things are always fried and even when we get boiled hash…well, we can trust that at the time, that is the best thing for us.  I like that sacred assurance just like I know, I know, that no matter what, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne