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

Paradox

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own understanding; in all your ways know Him, and He will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6

It’s rather a paradox.  The story is told of two people who were married, and both happened to be doctors.  They were walking down the street together, holding hands, and someone saw them and said, “Oh look, a “pair of docs.” Smile.  I have a paradox of my own, but it has nothing to do with doctors.  You see, I love to travel.  My wife Judy and I genuinely look forward to traveling.  It is one of our “life candies.”

Now for the paradox.  To travel, you have to have somewhere to go.  Whether it is a plane, train, or automobile…you must go and going always involves opportunities for frustration.  Whether it is a canceled flight or train or a sudden traffic jam on the interstate, interruptions will and do come.  On one trip, we happened to be driving south on Interstate 24.  There was a stretch of road south of Paducah, Kentucky that the Department of Transportation had been working on for a long, long time.  The two south bound lanes have been reduced to one and that can spell slowdown.  But this time it didn’t.  Everyone managed to merge to one lane, and we were merrily heading south at a reduced but very respectable speed…until we weren’t.

Suddenly, I looked up and I could see lots and lots of brake lights.  So, I began to slow down and quickly found myself in a traffic jam.  Well, we managed to creep along at a blazing five or ten miles per hour.  I looked on the GPS and it confirmed there was an accident up ahead and that was the reason for the slowdown.  It also told me that the mess was somewhere between long but not the longest.  After a while the GPS told me that we were nearing the spot of the accident.  I was expecting the worse…police cars, ambulances, and destroyed vehicles, but that wasn’t what I found. Pulled off on the shoulder, as in not blocking any lanes, were three vehicles.  One had no damage and the other two had minor damage.  Apparently they were following too closely and someone hit the brakes and well, the rest is history.

There was no police presence, yet, there was no ambulance—in fact, everyone was standing around chatting and as soon as we passed the scene, it was over.  It was back to normal…zooming south again.  Two things quickly occurred to me. First, the choice of those two drivers to follow too closely sure caused a mess.  If one of them was in a hurry…well, they weren’t anymore.  Second, it seemed to me that while traffic needed to slow down, it didn’t need to almost come to a standstill.  It could have been curiosity or maybe a case of overreaction.  We do that well sometimes, don’t we? The bottom line is…it doesn’t matter…things happen. Period.

And therein lies the paradox.  Practically speaking, if we travel, we will have bumps and slowdowns.  It is just a part of life—the journey.  So, the trick is to do all that you can to avoid the bumps and slowdowns and don’t let them “eat your lunch” or keep you from doing the things you love.  You learn to accept them as part of the journey.  Now, I’m still learning this, but I have a feeling it is something worth exploring.  This goes somewhere beyond knowing the joy is in the journey which includes joy in the bumps and slowdowns.  It means somehow, (I’m still working on it), allowing those inconveniences to become part of the adventure.  I know that sounds crazy but at the same time it sounds…enticing.

I’m one of those crazy people who believe the Bible and believe what it teaches about life and God, and I am learning to believe that God has His hand on the wheel and throttle of life. He has a reason for cruising free and clear down the interstate of life and He has a reason for the bumps and slowdowns of life. It becomes a matter of being willing to trust Him for both.  A favorite proverb from the Book of Proverbs says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own understanding; in all your ways know Him, and He will make your paths straight.” Well, there you go.  Do life by trusting Him.

When I saw those brake lights the other day and had to slowdown…and even stop, it seems there was a whisper in my ear. It wasn’t shouting frustration or demanding an explanation. It was something I had heard before and needed to hear again.  It simply said, “Don’t worry, son, I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

It’s a Downtown Christmas

I pray that you, being rooted and firmly established in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the length and width, height and depth of God’s love.” Ephesians 3:17b-18

This was one time paying a bill was fun.  My life as a kid was good.  While we didn’t have everything, we had plenty and we had each other.  A few weeks out from Christmas (believe it or not, we actually celebrated Thanksgiving before jumping into Christmas) we would get all the Christmas decorations down from the attic and decorate the house. I told you about the special Santa that used to hang on our chimney and believe it or not I was able to find one exactly like it and it now hangs in my office.  He keeps an eye on me all through the year to make sure I am behaving.

One of my favorite memories was the times when we had to go to downtown Jacksonville to pay our utility bills.  I suppose it was the electric bill because we had a pump in the backyard for our water and we didn’t use gas.  At any rate, with a tight budget, we would have to take the bill down to the electric company and drop it off the night before it was due. Christmas or not, off we would go to downtown.  But during the Christmas season…it was special indeed.  Here’s why!

Back in the day, all the department stores would decorate their windows with all things Christmas.  There would be figures whose arms and legs would move, reindeer that lifted their heads as if to fly, boys and girls skating on a make believe lake and on and on the list would go. It was certainly a magical thing to see and experience.  In its own small way, it made Christmas, Christmas.

Now here’s the good part.  Truth be known, if it wasn’t for the tight budget that forced us to make time to go downtown to pay the bill—we probably would have missed that beautiful part of our Christmas memories.  I know that often this is not by accident but rather by design.  You see God is always working, sometimes out front and sometimes in the background, but He is always working and yes, He does work in strange ways.  And often, what seems like a difficulty can be His way of bringing something good to light.  If we are willing to be patient, then time after time we will see His Divine handiwork.

I think one of the best things will be when we finally get to heaven and see that it is full of surprises.  We will know all the things God saved us from that we never saw happening and all the things He arranged that we skipped over and counted as consequence.  And as much as we think we know, I believe we are going to be astounded by the depth and width of His great love for us.

Paul, the guy who wrote a big chunk of the New Testament said it best when he wrote, “I pray that you, being rooted and firmly established in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the length and width, height and depth of God’s love.”  And honestly, that is one prayer we may not see answered because His love is so vast. So today, why not keep a special look out for all the ways God especially works in your life. Some will cause you to be filled with gratitude and others, well, they might make you grateful that indeed, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, friends, gratitude, life, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Cooking Lesson

Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, and whose hope is the Lord.” Jeremiah 17:7

It looked like a chocolate mud puddle…or worse. Well, I am a firm believer that God wires people in different ways. Some people are gifted in music, some in speaking; some are mechanically minded while others are whizzes at math.  It is no wonder why the Bible says that we are “fearfully and wonderfully made!”

Now if you are a regular Grits reader you know that I am a “foody.” I am blessed to have a wife who can cook very well. As a pastor at a church, one of my favorite things is when we decide to have a potluck. A potluck is when all the families bring a dish or two or three and we all share. At my church, a potluck doesn’t involve luck at all—you know it is going to be good.  I guess I appreciate good cooks so much because I am not one.  If cooking is a gift, I was in the wrong line when the gifts were distributed.  Let me explain.

One day I decided I wanted something sweet to eat.  I looked in the pantry and, in the refrigerator, but came up empty handed. I looked in the kitchen cabinets and found several boxed mixes.  There were two or three for cakes and one for brownies.  As my mind thought of sweet, gooey brownies–it was a done deal. I read the box and found I needed several ingredients–the mix–check; oil–check; water–check and two eggs–uh, no eggs.

I asked Judy what would happen if I skipped the eggs–she simply said, “It won’t work.”  She said something about a chemical reaction and the brownies being as flat as a pancake, but my mind had one thought–sweet, gooey brownies. I decided to press forward.  In fact, I even added more oil, more water, and some heavy whipping cream just for good measure.  After all, doesn’t more make everything better?  Who cares if it has nothing to do with brownies?

Well, I put them in the oven and set the timer for about twenty-five minutes.  Soon the timer was going off and I opened the door and peeked inside expecting a pan of delicious brownies.  What I found was anything but.  In fact, it resembled an oil slick…the kind you see when a tanker spills its cargo. It was some sort of goo—I guess a combination of pools of the oil, a black slime in the middle and a hard edge all around.  I guess that thing about the chemical reaction was right. Instead of ending up with a nice gooey brownie I ended up with a gooey mess.  It turned out that I wasted all those ingredients and twenty-five minutes of electricity.

So, what is the moral of the story?  Well, for one there is a reason why there is something called a recipe.  Someone smarter than me determined what it takes to make a delicious brownie and they were kind enough to share their wisdom.  If the recipe calls for eggs–it needs eggs.  I don’t know what the eggs do but I do know it does something important.  Someone on the internet suggested you could use Diet Coke instead of eggs.  I don’t know if that is true or not and I am not going to try and find out.  I’ve learned my lesson.  From now on Judy can cook the brownies and I will remain the eater in the family.

Oh, by the way, that following the recipe thing applies to God also.  You see, the greatest “cookbook” for a successful and purposeful life is the Bible. It is filled with recipe after recipe for a life that is truly worth living and it all starts with trusting and having faith in God.  In the Old Testament part of the Bible, a guy named Jeremiah said, “Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, and whose hope is the Lord.” He knew what we need to know…God is reliable.

The Bible says that Jesus is the one essential ingredient to our salvation.  I don’t know if Diet Coke will replace eggs, but I do know nothing can replace Jesus. You can add all the good works you want; add all the church you want and get baptized till you wrinkle but without Jesus—it just won’t work.  It is He and He alone that makes salvation possible.  All our additions will only make a gooey mess out of salvation.  Add the key ingredient and you can’t miss!

Well, for all you brownie lovers out there I hope you learned from my disaster!  Just remember, those ingredients are listed and needed for a reason–it won’t work without them.  And for each of you who are looking for a full life—one with purpose and peace, don’t forget the key and that is Jesus. Go ahead, ask others, and ask Him.  You will find He is the real deal.  Need a hand in the kitchen of life? Give God a chance. I’ve found that He is always willing and always there. Even when your life looks like a chocolate mud puddle…or worse…you can have the assurance that “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

Three Questions

This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” 2 Corinthians 5:17

He nervously paced the floor as the preacher preached.  My wife Judy and I were recently visiting family in South Georgia. We were at her brother’s house…patiently waiting as his wife prepared us some good southern cooking…chicken and rice, green beans, and a hearty salad…with peach cobbler and ice cream for dessert.  Thinking about it…maybe we weren’t so patient after all.  Anyway, one thing led to another and so her brother, who happens to be a preacher, began to share a story.  Many years ago, he had decided that God was calling him into the ministry and at that time he was filling in wherever he could.  He was still learning and practicing.

Well, his Daddy was the assistant warden at the local work camp…a sort of low security prison…and he suggested that he might find a captive audience there…pun fully intended.  So, her brother began to preach there at the jail.  They would lead him into the dining hall, bring in the prisoners and then…they would lock the doors.  He would begin to tell them about God’s love for broken people…just like them…just like us.  And, while he was preaching, this old man would walk the floor, slowly pacing, and in his own way engage with the preacher.  It was a grunt here and moan there, but it was obvious he was tracking where the preacher was going.

One time, at the end of the sermon, he came up to Judy’s brother and asked him if he could tell him about a sermon he had.  He told Judy’s preacher brother that his sermon asked three questions.  “First,” he said, “Do you have religion?”  Now the question wasn’t about what church you attended but rather did you know God personally.  You see that is the whole point of Jesus…that if you are willing to believe what Jesus said and believe in what He did…you can be a part of God’s family.  That was first because it is most important.  So, do you have religion—that kind of religion?

The old man spoke again and said, “There is another question.”  He wanted to know if you had religion, was it the “catching kind?” The old man was wise enough to know that religion that ain’t worth catching, ain’t worth having. The truth is too often the reason people aren’t interested in what we are “selling” is because it doesn’t seem to be working for us. And, if it isn’t working for us, why would it work for them?  Now, that’s a good question.  So, if you are the religious sort, is your religion worth catching?

Finally, the old man said, “Now the third question is this.  If you have religion, and if it is the catching kind…if anyone catching it?”  See, he knew that real religion, the kind that Jesus brings…brings change.  The Bible says that if anyone believes in Jesus, they become a new creation…the old life passes away and the new comes. We have a couple of fellas in our church that met Jesus while they were serving time in prison, and they will gladly tell you that they came out different than they went in.  That kind of religion is worth sharing.  That kind of religion is worth catching.

Well, with that the old man turned away and Judy’s brother went his own way too.  But do you know what?  He never forgot that old man’s sermon.  In fact, he preached it a time or two and now here I am writing about it.  The old man didn’t have much education and I’m not sure he ever made it out of prison.  But right there where he was, he was making a difference. You know, God created us to make a difference and those three questions can help us determine if we are. You can tweak those questions to read like this.  First, do you have something you are passionate about? Second, is it a passion worth sharing with those around you? Third, is anyone catching your passion, your dream, your vision?

For me the greatest passion of life is knowing God personally and trust me…it is a passion worth sharing and certainly worth catching.  Now remember, I’m not talking about religion in the plain old sense or church in the ordinary sense.  I am talking about experiencing the life changing power of the grace and forgiveness of God.  If you haven’t caught it yet…well, trust me it is worth catching.  God loves people…all people regardless of skin color, economic status or how long or short their sin list might be.  Your sin can’t out grace God’s grace.  You need to know this.  He wants to know you personally and wants you to personally know Him.  And, no matter what you have done, rest assured, He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

The Brothers

Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are My disciples.” John 13:35

It just bears repeating.  They say that two of the things that were so difficult about the season called COVID-19 was the isolation and the division it caused.  I couldn’t agree more.  One of the things I have read and heard over and again is how pastors in particular struggled through it all.  Church size and denomination mattered little. With so many different opinions, unity was bound to suffer…and it did.

I’ve said it several times, but personally as a leader it was incredibly difficult.  I have served as a pastor for 40 years and twenty-two of those have been with the church family located at 1300 South Feazel Street.  It has been a great ride.  One of the gifts it seems that God has given me is the ability to bring and sometimes hold the family together. But that season made me start to doubt that giftedness.

That year on the Saturday after Thanksgiving we had our family celebration at my daughter’s house outside of Murray, Kentucky.  My wife and I went down Friday, spent the night and enjoyed some good family time.  The rest of the tribe joined us Saturday for a great meal and more family stuff.  About mid-afternoon it was time to head home.  We had church the next day and there was a full night of preparation waiting for us. So, we headed north.  When we got home, I turned up the furnace (I had turned it down to save the planet and a few bucks) and started unloading the car.  After about thirty-minutes or so it occurred to me that the house wasn’t getting any warmer. Hmmmm.

I went downstairs and our furnace was stone, cold dead.  It was strange as the breaker had flipped. I called one of the brothers in our church who knew about boilers…in fact, he had helped me before when I had some trouble.  Our boiler is older than our first born so…well, you know.  Since it was Saturday evening I just called for some advice.  He gave some. Since it sounded electrical, he suggested I start with an electrician. That sounded like good advice, so I thanked him.

I called another brother in the church (we have a lot of brothers in the church) who knew about electrical stuff (which appeared to be the problem) and asked if he could maybe come by Sunday afternoon and take a look.  He refused.  He said it couldn’t wait till then and volunteered to come as soon as he finished supper. I thanked him and also thanked God for brothers to call when there is a need.  In just a few minutes the doorbell rang.  I assumed it was the electrical brother but in fact it was the boiler brother.  Before long, the other brother showed up too.  So, on a Saturday night, two brothers came to try and make sure Judy and I weren’t cold that night. 

Working together they found a short in the control box and within an hour the furnace was up and running. That night Judy and I slept warm because two brothers were willing to help another brother in a time of need.  I was pretty overwhelmed.  I said to them, “Thank you for loving us.”  The boiler brother said, “How do you know we love you?”  And the answer was simple truth.  I said, “Because of your actions.” I believe God allowed our furnace to fail so He could send to brothers over to say, “I love you.”  Isn’t that just like our Dearest Daddy?  I think it is.

The Bible says people will know we are Christians by our love.  Love is a great noun, but it is an even more powerful verb.  Compassion is love in action.  God demonstrated that by sending His Son to die on a Roman cross.  These two men, on a Saturday night, demonstrated it by coming and doing.  I believe the one quality that must be evident in a church is love.   We need to love God and we need to love each other.  God has made it clear that nothing will come between Him and us.  We must make sure that nothing Satan throws out today comes between brothers and sisters.

We talked Sunday about how amazing it was that God could ask a young virgin girl to be the mother of Jesus.  She couldn’t understand how that could happen.  An angel simply said, “With God nothing is impossible.” We wonder how we can love when we disagree, when we are hurt, when we are being pulled in opposite directions.  The answer is simple…everything is possible with God.  Judy and I rested good that night with a warm house and a heart warmed by love…both His and theirs.  It reminded me fresh and anew that He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Igor

For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.”  James 1:3

His name was Jason…I called him Igor.  Several years ago, it was one of those times when it was time to do something.  The high humidity in my closet had once again shrunk most of my clothes.  It is just one of the hazards of living in Southern Illinois between the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers.  While it is always the worst in summer, somehow, it manages to shrink my clothes right after the holidays too.  So, rather than go out and buy new duds, I just try and lose a few pounds.

I was at church about that time one Sunday morning and mentioned to a good friend of mine that I was going to try and shed a few pounds.  Well, he said to me, “Dewayne, I’ve got a personal trainer at the gym and how about if I arrange for you to see him three times a week.  By Easter, you will be a new man.”  I had never seen, much less had, a personal trainer, so it sounded like a good idea to me.  Maybe he could speed up the weight loss so I could get back to my bad eating habits…that I greatly enjoyed.

For my birthday, Judy and I drove over to Evansville on a mission to get me a couple of sets of gym clothes.  We got to Sears, and they had what used to be called running suits on sale.  That’s what they used to call them.  Now they call them obsolete. Anyway, I bought one.  It had the pants and the jacket, and I looked like, well, a dude.  I was to start working out with Jason, the trainer, on Monday.  I put on my fancy running outfit and drove over to the gym.  I opened the door and instantly realized that I was way overdressed. Remember the joke about the guy being told that he was going to a costume party, so he dressed up and nobody else did?  Well, I was the guy. Bummer.

I soon met Jason and he kinda explained what we would be doing over the next few months.  He explained that he was going to make my body hurt…a lot. Well, he didn’t actually say that but that was the reality.  The very first day I could barely walk to my car.  The next morning, I wasn’t sure I was going to live. Fortunately, I was meeting with Jason every other day, so I had a day to decide if I was going to live or not.  By the end of the week, I had changed Jason’s name to Igor because I was sure he got some sort of sick pleasure out of watching me suffer.  And I did suffer…a lot.

Over our time together, we did lots of fun things, but my absolute favorite were squat thrusts.  It was some kind of deal when you squatted down and then kicked your legs out the back.  Then you returned to the squat position before standing back up.  I’ve obviously never had a baby, so I have no idea what labor pains feel like.  But I do know this.  If leg squats were even 20% like a labor pain, then if the repopulation of the world depended on me it would be a very small world.  Total population:  One.

Well, I don’t remember making it to Easter.  Things did get toned up a bit, but I wouldn’t exactly say I was a new man.  I did get a new perspective on these guys and ladies who go to the gym and apply self-inflicted Igor-ism.  That is the self-infliction of Igor like pain on themselves. You’ve got to admire them—but as for me that would be from outside the torture chamber—uh, I mean gym.

Now there is one thing I need to make sure is clear.  Igor, I mean Jason, had my best interest in mind.  He was trying to help me reach my goals and help me be in better physical condition. It just wasn’t a pleasant experience…at least not on the front end anyway.  But do you know what?  Rarely are the things that really matter.  I know the Bible teaches me that trials are not easy, and they are never fun, but they are profitable because they teach me endurance. That’s what James, Jesus’ little half-brother, meant when he said that when our faith is tested, our endurance has a chance to grow. Going through the hard stuff strengths our faith.  And, trust me, that is a good thing.

Shortly after I quit going to be with Igor at the gym, I ran into him at one of the stores in town.  When I ran into him, I wanted to run from him.  But we chatted and he asked how I was doing.  I said fine.  He said he missed seeing me at the gym, and I made some kind of flimsy excuse, like I had a rare terminal African disease.  I don’t think he bought it.  So, we parted our ways. I was grateful for his help, but I was also grateful that my gym days were over.  I’ve just got to be sure I don’t give up on my real personal trainer—Jesus.  Like Jason knew what was best to help me physically, He knows what is best for me spiritually.  He encourages me, always has my best interests at heart, and never makes a wrong call. He allows me to pace myself and allows me to rest when I need it.  He’s the best life trainer of all. And I know this for certain.  If I falter or fail, He will be there because, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, life, priorities, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Cross Country

Don’t you know that the runners in a stadium all race, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way to win the prize.” 1 Corinthians 9:24

They called it a physical fitness test.  I called it Hades.  It happened every nine weeks.  That was the length of the grading period at the high school I attended.  Every male who attended Nathan Bedford Forest High School and was breathing was required to take a physical fitness test at the end of the grading period.  It involved several things…pushups, pull-ups, and my personal favorite, throwing up.  What was ironic about this is for all the time before the test we didn’t train for it. We might play softball or volleyball or some other team sport, but we didn’t train for “the test.”  We also played something called battle ball where we gathered in the gym and played a sadistic form of dodge ball. There was a guy named Johnny who had abnormally long arms and could hurl the ball at incredible speeds.  The last thing on earth you wanted was to be the last victim on one side and Johnny on the other.  It wasn’t pretty.

Anyway, we were not prepared but that didn’t matter.  We had to take “the test.”  The worst part of this Gladiator style arena of horror was the cross-country run.  Let me see if I can set the stage.  Imagine you are in North Florida, and it is late May.  The temperatures regularly climb into the lower and upper nineties. The humidity is at ninety percent or higher.  Remember they call Florida the Sunshine State and that is for a reason…the sun is beating down unmercifully.  And, by luck of the draw, you have physical education (PE) class right after lunch. The day before, the coach announces that we would be running “cross country” tomorrow.  It was too late to train…it was too late for anything but a few prayers.

In an attempt not to throw-up, you eat a light lunch and then report to P.E.  You pray to stumble and break your leg on the way to class, but that prayer goes unanswered.  You change clothes and anxiously report outside.  They call the roll and then give the command to report to the starting line.  What lies ahead is two and a half miles of running in the heat of a hot day complete with “air you can wear.”  Like “sheep led to the slaughter” you line up waiting for the whistle.  Soon, too soon, it blows and off you go.

Now you really need to understand that cross country for those who have trained for it is a challenging, but somewhat enjoyable sport.  I’ve even heard reports of a runner’s high.  I never experienced that, but I did experience a runner’s low.  It happened about a hundred yards into the course when I realized that I was going to die—or wish I could.  I can still remember the course to this day.  It was two and a half times around the perimeter of the school property.  If you ever wonder what eternity is like talk to me…I ran it.  Actually, to say I ran might be a stretch. I sorta ran it.  Not soon enough and it was over. As you cross the finish line you hear people saying, “Don’t run toward the light…don’t run toward the light.” After about 15 minutes your heart rates goes below 600 and you can breathe again.  I hated that test.  A lot.

I never really understood the point of asking someone to do something and not preparing them for it.  We ran that distance and more in basic training in the Air Force, but we slowly prepared for it.  Again, it was challenging but doable because of the training. I think this is not just a lesson about running, but about life.  I’ve heard that life is a race and unless you are incredibly unfortunate, it is not a sprint but rather a marathon.  If you are going to succeed in life then you need to prepare, you must train and pace yourself.  Fail in that and you might well fail in everything you attempt.

Paul, a man from the Bible, wrote a letter to a bunch of Jesus followers in Corinth.  They had their own set of games and there were prizes to be won.  It was an open deal so anyone could sign up but if you were wise, you trained first and you ran with commitment.  In that letter to the church at Corinth he says, “Don’t you know that the runners in a stadium all race, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way to win the prize.” In other words,…train like you wanna win and run like you wanna win and do you know what?  You just might do it.  Regardless, you can finish the race knowing you gave it your very, best shot.

I went through three years of high school and had four nine-week periods per year.  If my math is right that equates to sixteen times that I had to line up to get ready to throw-up.  Guess how many times I trained?  That would be zero.  Sixteen times I knew it was coming and sixteen times I thought the next time would be different.  Hey, plant corn and you’re gonna get corn.  Every.Single.Time.  So why not start today to run for the gold—to live like no one else?  Why not start today to make the best of everyday and when race day comes…you’ll be ready.  There’s a great Coach who will help you train and run.  His name is Jesus, and He is on your side.  He’ll even run beside you…all the way, shouting words of encouragement.  Listen as He shouts, “You’ve got this, Dewayne.” “How?” I ask?  “Because I’ve got it for you,” He responds.  I like that.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Gator Mania

One Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.” Ephesians 4:5-6

It was Gator mania.  To say that Aunt Maryjo was a Gator fan is to say that the Pope is Catholic. Through and through, she loved everything that was University of Florida Gators.  I am pretty sure if she had a blood transfusion, the blood type would have to be UF.  I also am certain that if she was bilingual, she would speak Southern English and Gator.  When she went to heaven a while back, the Gator’s lost their number one 94-year-old cheerleader.

The family asked me to do a chunk of her memorial service and I was pleased to do so.  The service was all about Maryjo, the Gators and Jesus.  We stayed at a hotel in Gainesville, and something almost immediately caught my eye.  Virtually everything, and I do mean everything, was Gatorized.  The primary decorating colors were blue and orange and Gator flags, Gator plaques, Gator pictures, and Gator knick knacks filled the main lobby and sitting area.  They even had a ping pong table, and the net was not a net at all, but a solid wall of sorts painted orange with a Gator carved in the middle.

Everyone knows you wear black to funerals and many folks did.  But there were also many blue and orange ties, shirts, dresses, and scarves scattered throughout the crowd. I noticed though several members of my family were not wearing blue and orange.  I was kinda surprised.  So, I asked one of my brothers-in-law, “Why aren’t you wearing blue and orange?” About the time I said it, I regretted it.  He boldly said, “I ain’t no Gator.”  Yup, there were several there who were Florida State fans and aunt or no aunt, they were not going to wear those stinking Gator colors.  Life…go figure.

As Judy and I were sitting in the hotel lobby visiting and drinking coffee and observing everything Gator, she said, “Isn’t it amazing what can happen when we are all pulling in the same direction?”  And do you know what?  She was absolutely right.  If I were to guess, probably 99% of the population around Gainesville were avid Gator fans.  The lived it, they believed it, and they were ready to fight for it.  They might be different social and economic classes, they might be different skin colors, they might even speak a different language, but one thing, one thing, pulled them together.  One thing managed to hold them together—they were fans of the Gators.  That singular thing overcame everything else.  Amazing.

I wonder what would happen if in a different world other than football if the same thing happened.  What if all the different denominations that say they believe in Jesus got together and pulled in the same direction?  What if all the churches in a town laid aside their insignificant differences and decided that they were going to pull together for the common cause of Jesus? I wonder how our community, or state could and would change, if we all decided to agree on what mattered—the Jesus essentials—and laid the rest aside long enough to live and share the Good News.  Why must we be like the football fans who attend rival schools and absolutely refuse to associate?  I wonder.

Well, there is one thing I can tell you for certain.  There is one who absolutely loves our division over the things that in ten years won’t matter and that is the devil.  Oh, how he applauds our pettiness and while he is smiling, Jesus is grieving.  I know He grieves because the Bible says we are not to grieve Him.  If we are not careful, we are going to lose…and I’m not talking about a football game.  I am talking about our communities, our cities, our counties, and our country.  I am not talking about losing a battle, I am talking about the war for the heart and soul of men, women, children—and the places they—we live.

Oh, I don’t know.  Maybe I’m overreacting.  Maybe somehow our holy huddles and frail fellowships can pull it off individually.  But that’s not how the Bible describes how our relationships should be.  There is one body and that is body of Christ.  I believe it says, “One faith, one Lord, and one baptism.”  One…there is real power when all the ones come together for the One and His soul (don’t worry…intentionally spelled that way) purpose.  Jesus came to seek and saved that which was lost, and it was something that He was willing to die for.  What about you?  What about us? Can we, will we, don the colors of the cross—red for His blood, white for our forgiveness and blue for our loyalty, not to a pastor, a church, or a denomination, but to the One who matters—Jesus!

Well, I was raised not too far from Gainesville and my Daddy and most of my family were Gator fans, but somehow, I went rogue—I pull for Notre Dame.  Go figure—a Baptist pastor pulling for a Catholic team.  What’s up with that?  It’s simple really—I love tradition and I love college football and those two override the other.  I am hoping our common denominator—Jesus—will cause us do the same.  I am banking on the fact that we may lose a battle or two, but in the end—Jesus wins and I’m gonna rest in that.  After all, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

Scars

Fear not; you will no longer live in shame. Don’t be afraid; there is no more disgrace for you. You will no longer remember the shame of your youth and the sorrows of widowhood.” Isaiah 54:4

Gnarled trees stood twisted and broken along the road.  A couple of years ago, Judy and I had to make a trip to Florida to participate in my aunt’s funeral.  She was my Daddy’s baby sister and the last of that generation.  It was a long trip but worth the journey.  I saw it as a way to honor my father while also honoring my aunt.  Like every person her life had its ups and downs and bumps and bruises.  And like every person there were a few scars left along the road.

It was while traveling West in Florida that I began seeing the gnarled trees.  Mile after mile of trees that were either broken in two, forever bent over or simply lifeless, like dead men standing. I knew the area had been brushed by a recent storm or two, but this damage was caused by something far worse—and not so recently.  Suddenly it occurred to me.  I had seen this before about two years ago.  It was the result of a storm, a terrible storm called Michael.

If you remember in 2018 a compact yet incredibly powerful storm came ashore at Mexico Beach, a small town on the Florida panhandle.  It was so devastating that it literally destroyed that small town and the path of the storm with its destruction moved well inland.  That is where we saw the scars.  When we were here a couple of months after the storm for miles and miles inland there was debris piled everywhere along the highway.  What wasn’t broken off or blown over, looked like it had been given a perm—twisted and turned.  That was two years ago. 

The scars of that harsh and horrible day remain today and will remain for many years to come.  Only time is going to slowly erase the damage as trees regrow and underbrush hides what has fallen.  It looked devastating two years ago when I saw it and today, somehow, it looked even more so.  Sometimes the scars are almost as bad as the wounds.  Sometimes the memories are worse than what caused the pain.

Many of us have caused scars and most of us bear them.  Some are still healing while others, like the gnarled trees, will remain.  We are left to wonder what to do…how to heal.  The answer I believe lies with Creator God.  It is He who can give us the strength to forgive, and it is He who can lead us down the path to healing.  Like a good recipe, it will include a measure of grace, a measure of mercy, and a measure of choice.  Forgiveness is never about the one who caused the scar rather it is about the one who was hurt. When we forgive, we truly begin to heal.

Forgiveness also involves forgetting…but not the kind you are thinking.  This forgetting simply means that we choose to not allow the past to control our present.  We choose to let go, so we can be set free.  When we determine that the past won’t reach into our present…we find a freedom.  While the scar will remain, slowly but surely the pain eases and we are eventually left whole.

This, of course, is a faith path.  We must believe that God can and will heal us.  We must believe that God can forgive us if we were the one who caused the scar.  We must believe either way that His grace is sufficient, and do you know what?  It is.  The scars I saw that day along the highway spoke of a devastating storm, but it also spoke of hope.  You see, at the base of the gnarled trees stood dozens and dozens of new growth trees.  One day, someday in the future, they will rise to overcome the past with its scars.  That is our hope.

As I stood before that group that day there was a mention of mistakes and regrets. I also spoke of forgiveness and grace which was and is a game changer.  No matter how difficult your past and no matter how uncertain your future, His grace will see you through.  I hope you will keep trusting Him day by day.  I hope you will look up for hope, look around to see that you aren’t by yourself and look down, yes down, but only to see the new life surrounding you.  Hey, you can trust Him, you can rest in Him because no matter how hard the wind blows or how long it howls…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

The “Switchings”

No discipline seems enjoyable at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.”  Hebrews 12:11

I guess I just got bored.  When I was growing up in North Florida it was just easy to get bored.  It was a different time.  There was no internet, no satellite or cable television, and no electronic games.  Then, you must add to that there just weren’t a lot of toys to play with.  While Daddy and Mama loaded us up at Christmas, by summer a lot of them had suffered from rough play. So, you had to get a little creative!  And that’s when I got into trouble.

One of my favorite things was to make rubber band guns.  It was really quite easy.  They were building houses across the street from where we lived (slowly our place in the country was becoming suburban). Like at any construction site there were lots of wedge-shaped sticks sticking out of the ground.  I later learned they were surveyor sticks.  Oops. Anyway, they had lots and I needed one, every once in a while, so I would, uh, borrow one…or two.  Well, Mama took the local newspaper, so we got a paper every day and it came wrapped with a rubber band.  You simply collect a few rubber bands (they were discarded in the yard), drive a nail in your stick and tada…you had a rubber band gun.  See…creative.

Well, that was bound to get old, so I came up with another idea.  In North Florida, the soil (at least where we lived) was very sandy.  I discovered that if you take a water hose and start forcing it against the sandy soil it will act like a drill.  As the water forced the sand away, the hose would slowly sink into the sand.  Well, it was fun. Before I knew it, the hose was a foot in the ground, then it was two, and then it was three and it was just about then I wondered how I would get it out.  So, I gave it a tug.  It didn’t budge.  I gave it a pull—nope, it didn’t give an inch.  I was in trouble.

What happened next is lost to time and history, but one of two things happened.  Number one.  I left the hose stuck in the ground.  Daddy came home and wanted to water his rose bushes.  He found the hose stuck in the ground, asked me and I told the truth, and I was sent to the bamboo bushes to get my own instrument of correction.  Think a thin bamboo switch.  It was effective…every time.  Number two.  I realized that the hose was stuck in the ground, and I realized that Daddy would be coming home soon, and he would water his rose bushes.  So, I went in the house and got a knife and cut off the hose.  The end result was the same. He asked, I told, bamboo switch. By the way…another sign that times have changed.  I looked up switch and was told it turned electricity off and on and was an electronic game that kids play.  Mine was neither.

You know, I really didn’t intend to mess up the construction site across from my house and I really didn’t mean to get my Daddy’s hose stuck in the sand.  The truth was I was just naive.  But there is another truth.  My being naive didn’t change the fact that I shouldn’t have done what I did and in the case of my Daddy’s hose—it didn’t change the consequences.  You might be asking, “Did your Daddy really give you a “switching?”  And the answer is yes.  You might ask, “Do you think you deserved the “switching?”  The answer is yes.  Finally, you might ask, “Did you learn anything from the “switching?” And the answer is yes.

You see, I never, ever again, turned on the water and let the water hose get stuck in the ground.  I don’t believe I was ever even tempted to let the water hose get stuck in the ground. You see, the “switching” was not an act of anger or meanness, it was an act of love.  Daddy was teaching me about right and wrong, and I am grateful for that.  Daddy had several ways to discipline, and they were generally fair and not too harsh.  And I believe they worked because I’ve never been arrested or spent a night in jail—yet. I wrote recently about being a compliant person…and I am, but part of that might be because my Daddy (and Mama) cared enough to help me learn.

I never really bought into the thought that the “switching” hurt my Daddy more than me because I know it hurt pretty bad.  But I do know he didn’t enjoy it.  My Heavenly Father doesn’t enjoy it either and He loves me even more than my earthly Daddy. God’s Book, the Bible, says that no discipline seems enjoyable at the time, but painful. Well, that is the truth. But is also says that later it yields a kind of fruit—the kind that teaches us right from wrong.  And that is profitable.

So, the lessons for today?  Don’t pull up surveyor sticks and don’t stick your Daddy’s hose in the dirt and above all…remember that your Father up in heaven loves you. In fact, He loves you enough to allow hard things in your life to help you learn right from wrong…to make better decisions with fewer consequences and regrets.  And don’t worry…He is loving and patient.  He never overreacts but rather responds in just the right way.  And as always, He’s got even this. Bro. Dewayne