Posted in Family, fear, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials, wisdom

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.” In fact, as I write this, I am overlooking a beach in Northwest Florida.  The patio door is open, the early morning sun is sharing its rays with those already on the beach and the sound of crashing and rolling waves fill the room.  It is good.

Now for the paradox.  In order to travel, you have to somehow go somewhere.  Whether it is a plane, train or automobile…you have to 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 this trip, it happened driving south on Interstate 24.  There is a stretch of road south of Paducah, Kentucky that the Department of Transportation has 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 pretty 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 stop.  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 you do all that you can to avoid the bumps and slowdowns but don’t let them “eat your lunch” or keep you from doing the thing you love.  You learn to accept them as part of the journey.  Now, I’m still learning this but I have a feeling it something worth exploring.  This goes somewhere beyond knowing the joy is in the journey to include 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, gratitude, Holidays, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Christmas All Day, Every Day

Love is patient, love is kind. Love does not envy, is not boastful, is not arrogant, is not rude, is not self-seeking, is not irritable, and does not keep a record of wrongs.” 1 Corinthians 13:4-5

24 hours…almost to the minute.  It all began with Christmas Eve service at our church that started promptly at 5:00 pm.  This is one of the best things we do all year and yet it really isn’t anything we do.  Families come and fill the worship center. We have some wonderful Christmas worship and readings from the Word of God.  It is my privilege to share something from the Bible and from my heart.  We end the service by sharing “the light of Christmas” with one another…a simple candle is lit and shared with everyone across the room as we sing “Silent Night.”  It always lasts just about an hour and then with anticipation, everyone goes their own way.

For Judy and me and the rest of the Taylor tribe that means gathering at one of our homes where we enjoy family, food, and fellowship.  Everyone gets a new pair of Christmas pajamas as we share some wonderful food.  Soon, too soon, our family disperses to their various homes.  The only exception is that Judy and I spend the night with our oldest daughter and her family and get to wakeup Christmas morning as the family opens presents and just enjoy being family.  Later in the day some of the family comes back and we have Christmas lunch together with more laughter and more fellowship.  Soon, too soon, the day comes to a close, and we go our separate ways, and our hearts are filled with gratitude for a day well lived.

It is sometimes hard to see the day end.  After weeks of anticipation and excitement, as the sun sets, the reality is that we go back to our routines.  Soon the Christmas music will be pushed to the end of our playlist and the decorations will be packed away for another year and all of us will soon be doing life as before…or will we?  I believe that we can and should carry some of Christmas with us right into the New Year.  I believe that is what Mary and Joseph did.  They didn’t leave Bethlehem the same way they arrived.  They left carrying the Hope of the world in Mary’s arms and under the watchful eye of Joseph.  They left with new purpose and new insight to care for and love the Baby placed in their care. Life wasn’t easy and neither Mary nor Joseph knew all the curves and potholes this new road would have.  They simply decided to trust God for the day after Christmas…and the day after that.

It would be easy for us to slip into what is called the “post-Christmas blues.”  But I think we do have a choice.  While we do have to move on, we can carry Christmas with us.  You see Christmas isn’t just the music, the decorations, and the traditions.  No Christmas is a celebration of God becoming man and dwelling with us and among us and in fact…in us. Christmas is a celebration of Christ and that isn’t, nor should it be, about a day or season on a calendar.  It is about the power of God’s love for this world…a love so great He gave His Son…the same one born on Christmas…for us.  How about that?

So today, why not go ahead and break into a chorus or two of “Joy to the World?”  After all, the good news of His coming is still good news.  Why not do today what you did a couple of days ago when you chose to show a little kindness?  After all, there are no seasonal limits on kindness or love.  That is something we can and should do every day.  I think we can all agree, Christian or not, that the world could use a little more of each.  I know that is what Jesus did. He went around doing good…not in honor of His birthday but because that was who He was and what He did.

Paul, the guy who wrote a bunch of the New Testament part of the Bible said, “Love is patient, love is kind. Love does not envy, is not boastful, is not arrogant, is not rude, is not self-seeking, is not irritable, and does not keep a record of wrongs.” Now that is enough to make it Christmas every day!  Sound a little challenging?  Don’t worry, the God who made all of this is just waiting to help you.  In fact, if you listen closely, you will hear Him whispering, “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

The Old 410 Wake Up

Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed.” Romans 13:11

We were the three little ones.  Momma and Daddy either by plan or accident ended up with a big family.  They had five reasonably close together and then took a break before finishing up the family with three more.  The three little ones consisted of two girls and one boy.  I was the boy and as the baby in the family, I was the best.  They called me “Precious”, because I was.  Smile.

The story isn’t about that, but I love stirring the pot.  The way it worked out at Christmas; the five older kids entered the world of nonbelievers long before we three.  I’m sure because one of my sisters-in-law said she changed my diapers.  But for the three little ones, Christmas was a magical world of believing and receiving.

On Christmas Eve night, we three were put into one bedroom.  The main part of the house only had two, so it seemed logical.  About 8:00 pm, Momma and Daddy would put us in the bedroom to “go to sleep” but of course that never happened.  We would lie in bed, whispering and giggling.  At some point, we would begin hearing strange noises coming from the living room.  I remember one year my sister asked for a “chord organ.” Imagine our excitement when, as we were “asleep,” we begin to hear musical sounds coming through the thin walls.  We couldn’t wait.  We would holler out and tell lies.  We would say, “We have to go to the bathroom.”  Of course, we didn’t, but we would do anything to “sneak a peek.”

Eventually, and it varied from year to year, we would doze off to sleep.  And yes, there were visions of sugar plums dancing in our heads. I am sure we woke up several times throughout the night to check the clock and it was always too early.  But we would know when it was time to get up.  The “410” would tell us.  You see my Daddy owned an old single shot 410 shotgun and every year that became our alarm clock.  Daddy, or one of the older brothers, would open the backdoor of the breezeway, stick the gun out and let her go.  The window where we were sleeping was right beside that door, so we had no problem hearing old Bessie when the time came. And, trust me, when the gun went off, we were up and running.

The door would fly open, and we would turn right into the living room and there would be a wonderland of toys and presents.  Our stockings would be stuffed to overflowing and we, well, we were amazed.  As we sifted through the piles of gifts and as the piles of used wrapping paper grew taller, it was heaven—at least to the three little ones.  I remember my sister-in-law, the same one that changed my diapers, took on the responsibility of going through all that paper to make sure some tiny, but important, part didn’t get accidentally thrown out.

The “410” became an heirloom in the family and my oldest brother became the proud owner. Last year, in an incredible act of generosity, he gave it to me and this year, once again, she will send out her wakeup call. She has killed her fair share of squirrels but the most important thing, in my opinion, was that she let us know it was time for Christmas.  It was time to get up. I think that is one thing I have learned these last couple of years. You might say it was a “410” of sorts.  All the crazy circumstances seemed to send a message loud and clear that it was time for some changes.  It was time for new priorities.  It was time to make time for the things that matter, like family, and time to let go of a lot of stuff. It was time to make every day matter because for too many—there wouldn’t be another day.

Hopefully, and I think the jury is still out, these days will be remembered as a time when a lot of people discovered or rediscovered God. A time that, for the first time, many could call Him Father.  Hopefully, and I also think the jury is still out, it will be remembered as a time that the church rediscovered what it was supposed to be and do.  Maybe it will be known as a time when the church stopped being a building at a certain address and became a people who still met in a building but then left to touch the lives of hurting people.  A “410” of sorts that heralded the Good News of God’s love.

The old “410” let us three little ones know it was time to wake up and the Bible says it is time for the church to do the same thing.  It says that we Jesus followers should know the time, that the hour has come for us to wake from sleep. The reason? Our salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed. In other words—wake up sleepy head—it is Christmas morning—time to rise and shine.  Rise and shine—that sometimes is easier said than done but I have a suspicion that with His help—we can shine for Him—letting others know loud and clear that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Corena came First

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” James 1:17

They say that some people have all the luck. And those same people would probably agree with the statement, “If it wasn’t for bad luck I wouldn’t have any luck at all.” Well, I have never been a big fan of luck.  I rather lean toward the sovereignty and providence of God.  That word providence is from the Latin that means “to see before”.  Add in sovereignty and you have more than seeing…you have action. You end up with God watching and allowing somethings while disallowing others.  It’s been said that, “God must have a sense of humor” and that is something I can definitely agree with.  In fact, I am glad that He does.

So back in January and February of this year, as soon as I could get the COVID shot I did.  I figured the chances of getting COVID were greater than the chances of growing a horn or something else from the shot.  So I was vaccinated. I didn’t feel well for a few hours with each shot but other than that…I was good to go…and go I did.  There was a new sense of normalcy and freedom… and I wasn’t the only one. People started moving and traveling just like the good old days…well, sorta anyway.

Life was good, life was fun until August rolled around.  Sometime around mid-August I started to feel lousy…almost like a sinus infection.  I’m known to get those every once in a while and I figured this was just one of those times.  The problem was it just got worse and worse and in a couple of days I was just sick.  Against my will, my wife forced me to call the doctor.  My doctor is the kind of doctor you want…he is my friend and he genuinely cares for me.  I told him what was going on and and I said, “I don’t want to take the test but I will if you think I should. Anybody wanna guess what he said?  Yup…that would be a yes.  Anyway, I was a breakthrough case—positive in spite of the shot. I am sure the shot helped the severity of the case, but I still got it.  I guess I should have read the small print that came with the shot: this shot does not prevent COVID. Hmmmm

So after the infusion and ten days in lockup I was on the road again. Life was good, life was fun and so Corena, my pet name for COVID, was long in the rearview mirror.  So, remember that thing about getting your flu shot?  Was I the only one who had it on their to-do list but didn’t quite get around to it? Am I the only one that wishes they had?  Well, last Thursday, on the way home from our trip to Atlanta for Operation Christmas Child, I developed a little pesky cough. Over the next 24 hours it became just a little more pesky.  I even made a joke about it in a funeral I was doing that Friday.  Well, the cough got worse and worse and by that night I was feeling lousy.

All Friday night I coughed and I woke up Saturday in the pits of despair.  In an attempt to be optimistic, I thought I could still preach on Sunday (dumb) and thought I could still do a funeral I was asked to do Sunday afternoon (dumber).  Finally, Saturday night I gave up hope of preaching and Sunday afternoon I gave up hope of doing the funeral.  I called my doctor friend and because I had already had Corena and the vaccinations, the other suspect was…wait for it…the flu.  Good grief and holy moley. God sure knows how to slow a man down. At any rate, I did discover the difference between Corena and the flu.  Corena has the potential to kill you and the flu makes you wish you could die.

Well, I am into day four of the flu and besides feeling like a truck ran over me I am on the mend. And while I am still cataloging everything that I am supposed to learn from this, for sure it includes a continued trust in my Dearest Daddy and His marvelous sense of humor.  Somehow and someway He figured this was best for me.  James, the half-brother of Jesus said it like this, “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” I like that…a lot.  Neither Corena or the flu felt good when I was in the throes of despair but through it all I still had the comfort of knowing that He loved me. Game. Set. Match.

So, if you are comfortable with it, go ahead and get your flu shot and whatever happens has got to be better that what I had.  And shot or no, just remember this, He is with you always. Looking back, one night at about 2.30 am, I just might have heard a whisper from the whisperer and He said, “Don’t worry son, I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Construction Zone Ahead

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11

It was a long time ago, but I remember it well.  Way back, before I knew anything about Harrisburg or Dorrisville Baptist Church, I made a trip to this small town in Southeastern Illinois.  I was pastoring in Cobden, a smaller town by far.  A person associated with our church there was having some mental health issues that required admission to a clinic.  Somehow, they ended up at the center located at the Harrisburg Medical Center.

I wanted to go over and visit them but had no clue how to get there.  This was a time, gulp, before GPS, so I had to rely on directions and an old fashioned map.  I made it to Marion and got off Interstate 57 and followed the road sign pointing to Harrisburg.  Before long, I found myself on a long and winding road (wait… isn’t there a song that goes like that?).  It was the kind of two-lane road that you got to play like a race car driver on.  There were plenty of curves and practically no passing lanes.  I remember coming upon a gigantic crane…I mean HUGE…that was abandoned by one of the coal mines.

Well, the long and winding road was about 24 or 25 miles but because I was blessed to get behind several slow, like really slow, drivers, it seemed like forever.  In fact, when I got to Harrisburg, I had to stop to get a haircut.  You ask, “Well, why didn’t you get one in Cobden?”  The answer is “I didn’t need one then.” Smile.  Anyway (I have to be careful not to get distracted.) I made my visit and then reversed the route.  I remember thinking how isolated Harrisburg was.  I mean you had to be going there to get there. I kinda reminded me of the wagon trains and the Oregon Trail.

Now, fast-forward years…I’m not sure how many…but lots.  My daughter Jennifer was going to try out for the Illinois Baptist State Association All-State Choir and her audition was at Dorrisville Baptist Church in Harrisburg.  When I heard that, I mentally blocked off two days for the trip (ok, I’m being facetious). But I still remember that long and winding road.  Now, imagine my surprise when we exited off the interstate again and followed the signs for Harrisburg and there before us was a four-lane divided highway.  No winding road, no 45 mph speed zones, no no-passing zones—just smooth sailing.  What a change.  What a blessing.  What took the better part of an hour now took 25 minutes.

Obviously, barring a road building fairy, a long and complicated construction project had taken place and replaced the two-lane, long and winding road with a modern highway.  I’m sure it involved multiple construction zones.  I’m sure it involved inconvenience.  I’m sure it involved frustration—though I’m not sure what could have been more frustrating that the original two-lanes.  But I bet it all was worth it when the new highway opened and the miles flew by.  It had to be game changer.  Yup, the construction zones had to be worth it.

Well, I was praying this morning and something like this came out of my mouth, “Lord, help me to be patient in the construction zones of my life.”  I paused when I said it because it really grabbed my heart.  The construction zones of my life.  Hmmm.  You see, it made me realize that I am like a construction project and it can be frustrating.  But God is in charge of the project and He does have a plan that He is working out in my life. I know I use this a lot in my writing but it just too good.  Jeremiah 29:11 says, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”  One day, someday, it will be worth it.  It might be years down the road, or it might even be heaven, but I will see the big picture and I will know that no matter how painful or costly, it was worth it. It.Was.Worth.It.

There’s an old song (my apologies to my younger readers) that says, “It will be worth it all, when we see Jesus. One look at His dear face all sorrows will erase.”  I believe that. So, as you tootle down life’s road and you hit one of those stinking construction zones—hold on and throttle back.  It could be that God is working in one of His mysterious ways.  It might be to bring you into His family or it might be He is just trying to make you a little bit more like Jesus.  One thing I know for sure…it won’t be wasted.  God doesn’t waste time and He doesn’t waste suffering. I like that. If you find yourself in stopped traffic on this road called life, just hit the pause button and breathe deeply.  Then repeat this as many times as you need to, “I choose to rest in Him.  He’s got this.”  There you go.  Now, don’t you feel better already?  Bro. Dewayne


* Signpost photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

Posted in Family, gratitude, life, love, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Half Time

But you must not forget this one thing, dear friends: A day is like a thousand years to the Lord, and a thousand years is like a day.” 2 Peter 3:8

It was a Friday night and that meant football and that was a big deal.  Well, one Friday night I missed what would be called a supercharged, game of the year. So it may have been football night but I had a wedding rehearsal.  As a pastor I have the privilege of presiding at various wedding ceremonies.  To ensure it comes off at least in a semblance of order, we have rehearsals.  Now that doesn’t guarantee anything it just sort of helps.  It’s like Proverbs 22:6 “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it.”  That is a great Biblical principle but not a promise.  So, rehearsals don’t guarantee a smooth wedding, but they do help and hence we have them.

So, the rehearsal and dinner ended about 7:50 pm or so. I walked outside and from the church I could hear the crowd–the excitement. It sure sounded like a good game.  Honestly, though, I was pooped.  If you’ve never overseen a wedding rehearsal you probably can’t identify with that statement. It is kind of like pushing cooked spaghetti or herding cats. As I climbed into my car, I turned on the radio and headed to the house. A minute or two later was when our quarterback connected with one of the kids who attended our church for a touchdown—the first of three.  That tied the score with five minutes left in the first half.

For a moment, just a brief moment, I wondered, should I go and get Judy and head on over for the second half?  Well, I quickly dismissed the thought.  After all, who goes to a game at halftime…it was too late.  So, I got home and crashed.  We went to bed early and as usual I got up early…like 3:30 am.  I checked my phone and there was a message from a friend sent the previous evening: “U R missing the game of the year.”  I checked the internet and read the newspaper account and he was indeed right.

They say that hindsight is 20/20.  The question then becomes “So in light of it being an unbelievable game–the game of the year–was halftime too late to go?  Absolutely not. Considering what I learned Saturday morning after reading about the game, was I too tired, really, to go to the game?  The answer is probably not (I had that probably because I really was tired!).  The bottom-line, I wish somehow, I could have made the game.

So, what is the lesson to be learned from this tragic tale?  Well, first, halftime is not too late. It is never too late to heal a relationship, to offer an apology, to dream a new dream or rekindle a dying fire in a marriage. I obviously don’t know where you are in your life’s game right now, but one thing is sure:  it is further into the game than it was yesterday!  If you are like me, well, I’m past halftime…but life is still full of challenges, adventures, opportunities and, well, life.  So, it’s not too late.  Regardless of what time your life clock says–if it is still running–you still have opportunities.  You see, what we can accomplish may change and how we accomplish it may be altered but the fact remains that we can still do something.

There is a great verse in God’s Book, the Bible.  It says that with God a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years is like a day. We usually get the meaning that God is not bound by time but there is something else.  It also means that God can take a day and make it like a thousand years.  God can take what time we have left and multiply it.  In other words—it isn’t too late. There is plenty of time to love and plenty of time to serve.  Don’t throw in the towel.

Well, on that Friday night years ago I did miss the game and the boat.  But there were other Friday nights and other opportunities.  It is true for me, and it is true for you.  We just need to be wise enough to trust God with each day and wise enough to ask Him to help us make the most of them all.  I know that can be challenging but He is a “time multiplying, nothing is too big for Me” kind of God and if we will trust Him, we can rest assured that, “He’s got this.”

Posted in Family, food, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Cooking Lesson 101

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 good 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.

Oh, and when the Bible says that Jesus is the one essential ingredient to our salvation–it means it.  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, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, Military memories, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials, USA, wisdom

A Day That Will Live in Infinity

If a house is divided against itself, that house cannot stand.” Mark 3:25

“December 7th.  A day that will live in infinity.” Though it was before my time I know the story well. It was a beautiful morning in Pearl Harbor.  Those who weren’t painting the ships or swabbing the decks of the powerful U.S. Navy Pacific Fleet were home enjoying a round of golf or a tropical breakfast.  And then, at 7:55 in the morning local time, without warning or provocation, bombers, fighters and torpedo bombers of the Imperial Japanese Navy swept in.  They began to systematically destroy the American fleet and its supporting aircraft.  That morning thousands of sailors and civilians lost their lives and thousands more were wounded.  Over eleven hundred sailors died instantly when a single bomb hit the ammunition magazine on the battleship Arizona.

In an hour and fifteen minutes the attack was over, and the United States was drawn into a global war.  The nation had long been divided over what role the United States should take in the war that raged in Europe.  However, it was all settled when, after the attack, Japan declared war on America and Hitler as an ally of Japan did the same.  Like it or not, the United States was embroiled in a war that would last for almost four years and cost the lives of 407,316 Americans with another 671,278 wounded.  But by the grace of Almighty God, in the end, America and her Allies were victorious in defeating the tyranny of the fascist governments.

Thirty-eight percent of those who served were volunteers and sixty-one percent were drafted.  The average enlisted person was paid $71.00 per month while the average officer was paid $203.00  Drafted or volunteer, officer or enlisted, they were all willing to put their lives on the line for the cause of freedom and the cause of defeating countries bent on oppressing those weaker than they.  Many valuable lessons were learned during that time—lessons that we must not forget.

First, is the power of unity.  Before the Pearl Harbor attack the nation was clearly divided over the war.  After the attack, the nation pulled together on a unified front to protect and defend—first the United States, and second, the millions of innocent people being oppressed by Germany, Japan, and Italy.  It is tragic that it took a Pearl Harbor to bring the nation together but if America had entered the war divided the outcome would have been much different.  Today, we need to understand that it is time to come together again.  We have allowed a virus named COVID-19, a contested national election, and blatant racism to divide our country. Jesus said that a house divided against itself cannot stand.  Neither can families.  Neither can churches.  We must come together, or we will fall apart.

Second, is the power of owning it.  As in any national tragedy, the event happens and almost immediately the finger pointing begins.  Pick the historical event and the pattern is sadly the name.  Political parties and even ordinary, everyday people will use a tragedy to promote their cause.  We have seen it on the national front.  We have seen it on the local front.  We have seen it in churches.  It is not a time to point fingers, but rather a time to rise to help solve what is broken.  Seventy-nine years ago today, December 7, America rose to the challenge.  I wonder if we will have the wisdom to do the same today.

Last, is the power of wisdom.  There is not much debate that storm clouds were gathering in the days leading up to December 7th.  Some would say that there was blatant evidence that an attack was coming.  Sadly, those warning signs were largely ignored, and the cost was horrendous.  Today, right now, there is something we need to remember.  There is one enemy, and it is not our neighbor, not our brother or sister in church, and not even the person who belongs to another political party.  The enemy is Satan, who wants nothing more than to destroy us. Jesus said, “The thief comes to steal, kill and destroy.”  It was true when He said it…it is true today.  The second part of that verse is filled with hope. Jesus said, “I have come that you might have life and have it more abundantly.”

You see, God is for us.  He is very aware of Satan’s tricks and schemes, and He wants us to be victorious over him.  That is what Christmas and Easter were all about.  God became flesh and lived among us and then ultimately and deliberately died on a Roman cross that all people, regardless of nationality, race, or economic station, could be forgiven and have eternal life.  With the wisdom of God, we don’t have to have a “spiritual” Pearl Harbor. With God’s help we can come together.  With God’s help we can be victorious.

You see, it’s not about religion.  It is about a relationship with the God who made it all. And with the relationship comes hope, comes peace, comes forgiveness, comes unity.  If we are wise enough to believe what God says, and act on what He teaches, our best days won’t be in the rearview mirror but rather ahead.  During this Christmas season and beyond, let the Prince of Peace bring His peace into your world.  Rest in Him.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne.

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Spilt Milk

I tell you that on the day of judgment people will have to account for every careless word they speak. For by your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned.” Matthew 12:36-37

It gets real hot in North Florida.  When I write these stories I always try and remember things that happened in my youth that were either funny or difficult or both. Sometimes though they are just hilarious.  When I was about eight years old, my Momma and Daddy were always looking for ways to save a little money.  I didn’t know if we were rich or poor and I don’t suppose it mattered. Sometimes it was more obvious but most times it was just life.

I’m not sure how we got started but we began to buy our milk from a family that lived about a mile from where we lived.  It wasn’t really a dairy farm it was more like three or four cows. We would go over twice a week and buy a couple of gallons in big half-gallon glass jugs.  And let me tell you…this wasn’t the pasteurized stuff we drink today.  It was straight from the cow.  And one more thing, it was NOT 2%, or 1% or skim milk.  No sir, this stuff came fully loaded with milk fat.  It was good.  We had an old ice cream churn, the kind you had to crank and that milk made the best ice cream you ever tasted.  It was always a special day when we went and got milk.  And then one day it wasn’t.

We were still driving that old 1957 Plymouth and it was time to get milk.  I think Momma was driving and one of my sisters was in the front seat and the other in the back with me.  Those were the days before seat belts and rules about kids not sitting in the front seat.  In fact in those days the dashboard was made out of metal.  Anyway, we got to the home where they sold the milk. Momma paid the lady and I was supposed to carry the milk to the car and carefully put it on the floorboard in the backseat.  It was a good plan…almost.

The milk jugs had little handles on the top near the neck of the jug.  I picked up the jugs, one in each hand and headed to the car.  I put the jugs down on the ground and opened the back door.  Then I turned around and picked up one of the jugs and set it on the floorboard.  Then I turned around to get the second jug and put it next to the other.  You know, next is a nice word.  It means close too.  Well, I swung that ole jug through the door and well, you might say I got it just a little too close to the other one.  There was a sound of glass hitting glass and one of the jugs busted wide open and that nice fresh milk spilled all over the carpeted (remember that) floorboard.  Bummer.

Momma came over and of course was upset about the wasted milk.  I was too, but you know what they say, “There’s no use crying over spilt milk.” That is true but things were going to get worse before they got better.  I suppose we bought another half-gallon of milk and headed for the house.  Once there I did my best to clean up the spilt milk. The problem was first there was carpet and then, like they did back then, there was a thick pad underneath the carpet.  You could do what you wanted to, but there was no way all that milk was coming out of that carpet and pad.

Remember I told you that it gets real hot in North Florida.  Well, by the next morning there was a strange odor in the whole car and it just got worse and worse.  By the end of the first day the smell of sour milk made it just about impossible to sit in the car.  We already had the windows down because there was no air conditioning but even that didn’t stop the odor.  It made it better but when Momma or Daddy hit a stop light, Katie bar the door…it stunk. So for days and days our 1957 Plymouth smelled horrible. I’m pretty sure I was not winning any popularity contests for about the next two weeks. That smell lasted a long after the accident…oh boy did we hate it.

Have you ever broken a jug of milk in your car before?  Well, probably not, but let me ask you this.  “Have you ever done something wrong, something that hurt someone, something that broke someone’s heart?”  You probably know that is really what this story is about.  You see when we get all fired up and make some bad choices with big regrets it doesn’t just go away…oh not…it lingers and lingers and lingers.  And you know and I know sometimes the scar just stays forever.  I know we shouldn’t cry over spilt milk but maybe we should shed a few tears over broken hearts, hearts that we have broken.

I sure wish I had been more careful that day.  I know I was just a kid but I was old enough to be careful.  My careless behavior caused a big stink and it was a stink we all had to endure.  I think we should be more careful with our actions and our words each day.  If we would it might save a few hearts and a few big stinks.  The Bible says that we will have to give an account for every word and every action that we say or do.  Do you know what?  If I would have asked, my big sister would have helped me that day…so would Momma but I thought I could handle it.  We think that way in life too.  Why not ask for a little help from your Heavenly Father before the milk gets spilt?  He is always ready to help you carry your milk. Two things are certain…you can count on Him and always, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Three Days, Day Three

Catch the foxes for us—the little foxes that ruin the vineyards—for our vineyards are in bloom.” Song of Solomon 2:15

It seems that God has a sense of humor after all.  Day two was a bust.  As bad as I wanted and needed everything to go right…it went wrong.  Mornings are my most productive time and it quickly became obvious that Monday morning and afternoon were not going to be productive…except to fuel and feed my frustration.  None of the circumstances were life threatening, nor were they going to matter in eternity, and they weren’t going to change the world. However, they had left me wondering what was God up to.  I just missed the part that He had enrolled me in the school of faith.

Tuesday, day three of “Three Days” began better—not because anything had changed but maybe, just maybe I had.  I got up and prepared the usual way.  Coffee, check. God time, check. Breakfast, check. Before I knew it, it was time to head to the office and see what God had in mind.  Something told me it might be different. When I arrived at the office, made a cup of coffee—first priority—and restarted my Apple computer for what seemed like the twentieth time.  Hmmm. It seemed to be happier so naturally I was happier but happier doesn’t mean the problem was gone.  I still had to do the one thing that started this fiasco—updating the church digital sign. I decided to try something different.

About two months ago, I had installed the software that was supposed to talk to the sign on another computer but no matter what I did, it simply wouldn’t talk to the sign. I called the expert and no matter what he did it still wouldn’t talk to the sign.  We gave up and I turned it off…until that morning…the morning of day three.  Well, figuring I had nothing to lose, I turned the PC on, opened the sign talking software and guess what? They started talking.  Like two old friends they started chatting like nothing was ever wrong. And just like that the thing that I had worried and fretted over was in the rearview mirror.  Just like that the one thing that I really needed to do was, wait for it, possible.  I really couldn’t believe it.  There was no explanation but one.  God not only heals bodies and creates universes—He works on computers.

I hope you are smiling right now because when all this happened I was.  I wrote the computer expert guy and told him the problem was solved and I thought it was a miracle.  He agreed.  So the bottom line is God proved that He is concerned about the little things that cause frustration and stress. He also proved that even when we are wondering what “He did to us,” He quietly and mysteriously works for us. So the rest of the first part of day three I merrily pressed the keys and fed data to the church sign for all of December and January.  Yay.  It turns out that people won’t be wondering why the church sign is still wishing them a Happy Thanksgiving.

I am glad that God granted me these three days…even day two…the less than trophy day.  That frustrating day set me up to appreciate the miracle day.  God used my frustration from day two to fertilize and grow the wonder of day three. In frustration on day two I said, “God why did you do this to me?”  At the end of day three I was saying in gratitude, “God, why did you do this for me!” because I am sure I didn’t deserve it. I hope this made sense to you because it was pretty cool.  I learned once again that God is God and I am not and that He is good all the time and if I am willing to trust and wait, He is willing to see me through.

So, that is the story of the three days…three days that I am sure all of us at one time or another have both enjoyed and endured. It is a story of how it doesn’t always take a major disaster to derail us on the tracks of life.  Sometimes, too often, it is just the little things gone south.  Sometimes the little things are more difficult to manage that the monsters that ravage us.  It reminds me of one of those good verses in the Old Testament.  It says, remember, it isn’t the elephants but the little foxes that spoil the vines and the harvest. I’m just glad that He is a patient loving Father who doesn’t grow weary with my groans or my whines.  No, instead the Whisperer whispers, “It’s ok child, don’t worry, big or small, “I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne