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 “And above all things have fervent love for one another, for “love will cover a multitude of sins.” 1 Peter 4:8

It’s an old, old story…at least for we Taylors.  As the baby of our family, I came along toward the tail end of so many good memories.  Daddy and Momma had eight kids in all.  They had five, apparently needed a break, and then decided to have three more. Well, I’m not sure how much it was a decision as it was a fact of life…no pun intended.  There were plenty of tales in the Taylor household but like I said, some happened before I came along.

Daddy and Momma started out with three boys.  From everything I know, they were all rough and tumble and that’s just the way it was.  Well, apparently, one day things got a little out of hand.  More on that in a few minutes.  What you need to know now is that one day my Momma went out to use her washing machine and made a startling discovery.  Someone had cut the hoses to the machine and the natural suspects were the three older brothers.  I’m not sure why they were suspects unless that was part of their rough and tumble motif.  I can’t verify it, but I would suspect that at some point, Momma said, “Just wait till your father gets home.”

Well, eventually he did, and Momma told him what had happened.  He lined the boys up for a time of interrogation.  They assured him that while they were rough and tumble, they weren’t stupid—there was no way they cut the hoses.  Well, Daddy didn’t buy it.  He was sure that they did.  I’m not sure how long they were in the “police lineup” but eventually Daddy said if no one would confess they would all get punished…and they did.  I don’t know if it was a switch or a belt, but they got a spanking.  Case closed.  Daddy was sure they wouldn’t be cutting anymore hoses.

Well, the only problem was this—they didn’t cut them in the first place.  Several days later, one of their rough and tumble “friends” confessed to the deed.  It turns out in their rough and tumbling the “friend” had gotten mad and decided to get a little revenge so…he cut the hoses.  When word got back to Daddy, he called a meeting of “the boys.”  Again, I wasn’t there but I heard it went something like this.  “Boys, I found out you didn’t cut the hoses to the washing machine—your “friend” did it.  Now, at this point in the story it would seem logical that Daddy would at least attempt to apologize for the undue punishment.  That didn’t happen.  Instead, he said something like this, “You probably needed the spanking anyway.”

I know, you’re thinking, “What! That’s not right.  It’s not fair.” But don’t be too quick to cast judgement on my Daddy.  The bottom line is he should have apologized, but that was a different time and we don’t know all the details.  Sometimes it is hard for people to apologize…even when they are wrong.  Can you identify with that?  I know I sure can. Often the words, “I’m sorry” just couldn’t find their way off my tongue. And if you are a member of the human race, you have probably experienced that too.

Here’s what I do know.  My Daddy was a good man, but he wasn’t a perfect man.  He, like me, made mistakes.  When I heard this story a long time ago, honestly, we probably all laughed.  Later, I’m sure it made me think and I came to this conclusion. Instead of judging him for a lapse of judgement in a moment of time I decided to go with what I knew to be true.  My Daddy loved them, and he loved me and that was simply enough.  I was willing to let love cover a multitude of sins.  I know God’s love has sure covered a big multitude of my sins…and I am grateful for that.

The big take away is this.  If you find someone has cut your washing machine hoses the most likely suspect probably doesn’t live in your house—possibly but not probably.  But more than that—always remember we are recipients of a whole pile of God’s grace and we should be willing to extend a little.  Forgiveness is not for the person you’re forgiving—it is for you.  A heart willing to forgive is a happy heart.  And, when you find yourself against a rock and hard place trying to forgive someone who hurt you…just remember your Heavenly Father is an expert at forgiving and trust me, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

 “When they kept on questioning Him, He straightened up and said to them, “If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.” John 8:7

I should have listened.  I was a pretty good kid when I was young but let’s be honest.  Pretty good doesn’t mean perfect and pretty good doesn’t mean not mischievous.  I think it means I was somewhere close to normal.  The only thing is normal can still get you into trouble.

One day I was with the family and I’m pretty sure we were at a laundromat.  Apparently, the washing machine had broken down and we had to do the wash at the mat.  My Daddy and I were out in the parking lot while Momma was washing the clothes.  I was about nine and bored and that is not a good combination.  The parking lot was gravel and all those rocks just seemed to be saying, “Throw me.”  So, I obliged.

At first it was a little toss here and there but the more I threw, the more I wanted to throw.  First it was random, but then I started taking aim.  Several things were laying along the edge of the parking lot and they made great targets but then I got an idea.  If hitting a can was good, imagine hitting a moving target.  So, I started chucking the rocks in the direction of the road and at the cars passing by.  Bad idea.

Now, if you are going to chuck rocks at a car, every nine-year old rock chucker knows you don’t just chuck your rock with obvious intention.  You ease into it. Well, I started easing into it and before long, my rocks were landing dangerously close to cars going by.  My Daddy thought it was kinda accidental and it garnered a “Dewayne, be careful not to hit the cars.”  He hadn’t caught onto my real plan to “ping a hub cap.”  Anyway, I kept chucking so he upped the warning.

“Dewayne, listen, don’t throw rocks at the cars.” He had finally caught on and I should have quit while I was ahead.  I finally got close enough so that we entered “Final Jeopardy.” “Question—what happens if you hit a car? Answer—I’m gonna give you a spanking.”  Yeah, well, you can probably guess where this is going.  I chucked a rock and hit a car going by and it was “Final Jeopardy.”  Daddy got mad, the driver got mad, and I got in trouble.

Well, Daddy was able to talk to the driver and he promised him the “grapes of wrath” would fall when we got home.  As he drove off, Daddy explained about the “grapes of wrath.” Translated it meant I was gonna get a spanking when we got home, and it wasn’t gonna be a little one.  So, as soon as we pulled into our driveway, I ran into the house and hid under the dining room table.  Soon, I heard Daddy’s voice, “Where are you, Dewayne?”  I felt like Adam and Eve in the garden after they had chucked rocks at God and decided to sin.  God was looking for them and they were hiding too.

And that’s where things get fuzzy.  I don’t remember the spanking which means I probably got grace instead.  It probably means that Daddy and I had a long talk about chucking rocks at cars and how that was not a good thing to do.  It must have worked because I don’t think I ever chucked another rock at a car…at least one that was moving. That day I learned about obedience and how it has a whole lot less consequences than disobedience.  I also learned about grace.  Grace is when you deserve a spanking but instead you get a talking.  But I also learned about rock chucking. I learned that it was ok to chuck rocks at things like stumps and cans, but it is not ok to chuck rocks at things like cars. When you do there are consequences…big ones.

Now, there’s another kind of rock chucking that I’m still learning about and that is chucking rocks at people. I’m not talking about waylaying someone with a stone but rather waylaying them with our judgmental acts and words. It’s what we do when we see someone fail and we decide to make ourselves feel better by knocking them down.

Jesus ran into this when some religious people found a woman sinning big-time.  They dragged her into the middle of a crowd and wanted to stone her.  They asked Jesus what would He do?  He told them that the person that had never sinned should chuck the first rock.  Well, slowly they all walked away because they had all messed up. “Where are your accusers?” Jesus asked the woman.  She replied that they had left…and indeed they had.

The only ones left were her, the sinner, and Him, the One who had never sinned.  He could have chucked rocks but instead He loved her and forgave her.  She deserved the rocks, but He gave her grace.  I like that.  A lot.  So, He dismissed her a smile and a word of “now don’t go on sinning” and the rocks stayed on the ground…right where they belong.

I am so grateful for grace…and you should be too.  If we have experienced grace, we should extend some too. You see, rocks make great parking lots and driveways, but are terrible weapons. They need to stay in the quarry or on the ground.  My Daddy showed grace then and my Dearest Daddy shows it every day.  We should too.  It’s good to know though when we are hiding under the dining room table and He calls, we can come out and sit in His lap and learn about the consequences of sin but also the wonders of grace.  So, come on out from your hiding place. We can rest in Him because, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

 “No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.” (Hebrews 12:11) 

I just couldn’t resist.  All of us have stories that we don’t necessarily remember but are passed down through the years.  Some are humorous, some are serious, and some are the things legends are made of.  Well, this one I believe qualifies as all three.  

When I was quite young, probably six or seven, life was pretty good.  We lived in a country setting that was rapidly becoming the suburbs of Jacksonville, Florida.  There was a subdivision being built right next to where we lived.  Some of the men who were working there would drive these cool wedge shape sticks in the ground at the corners of each lot.  They had numbers on them.  They were surveyor markers for the lots.  We thought they made great rubber band guns so we would help ourselves.  We had an endless supply of rubber bands because the newspaper came each day with one or two wrapped around it. We weren’t trying to be mischievous; we were just trying to have fun.  I bet it wasn’t fun for the guys who did the surveying.

Sometimes, our fun might become someone else’s pain.  And, this is where the story really begins.  Back in those days, going to the grocery store was the great adventure.  My dad got paid every other Friday.  Payday night we would load up in the car and go to buy groceries.  It seemed we would always buy the stuff to make sandwiches for supper when we got home which invariably included a gallon of chocolate milk.  It never saw the light of the next morning.

Well, one Friday night, we were at the grocery store and apparently, I had a rubber band left over from my adventures that day. I must have reached in my pocket and found the small piece of rubber and thought, “You know, we can have some fun with this.”  Well, I probably should have thought that through a little better, but when you are six or seven and mischievous by nature, anything is game.  I started looking for targets.

Down the aisle was a rather large woman.  And what happens next has been blocked from my memory but is stated as fact.  As we got closer to the woman, perhaps as she studied what brand of mayo to buy, I took the rubber band, placed it between my thumb and pointer finger, moved my hand, in close proximity to the intended target and let it fly.  I can only imagine what happened next.

First, I am certain she was shocked.  It must have felt like a killer bee had bit her but that wasn’t logical since she was in a store.  I’m thinking she probably spun around and looked only to see this smiling kid with a rubber band still in his hand.  To me it was all fun.  To her it was all pain.  Lesson one.  Don’t let your fun become someone else’s pain.

Second, I am certain my parents were devastated.  Since this would have been about 1960 or 61 there were not the social rules about child discipline that we have today.  Knowing my Daddy and Momma, there was probably swift and lethal retribution.  I can imagine one of them, perhaps both of them, making sure my bottom felt like her bottom.  No one would have called Children and Family Services.  They all would have said, “Let me help you with that.”

Third, I believe that this was when I began to really understand repentance.  Repentance means to turn around and go in a different direction.  If I could have gotten loose from Daddy that night, I would have definitely practiced repentance…I probably would still be running.  The other meaning of repentance is to have a change in attitude.  I am certain that happened.  If you were to ask me how many other times I decided to pop a strange lady with a rubber band in the grocery store that number would be zero.  Somehow the urge suddenly left me.  I had repented.

This is going to sound hokey, but it is memories like this that show how much my parents loved me.  They loved me enough to teach me right from wrong, respect for other people, a strong work ethic and to believe in God.  And they loved me enough to give me a swat or two when I needed it.  It all came together to help me grow, and live and love.

God is the same way.  My Daddy and Momma loved me very much, but God outshines even them.  He loves me and teaches me to do life with fewer oops and fewer consequences. I never carry rubber bands in my pocket just to avoid the temptation.  But He also loves me enough to discipline me when I need it. The author of Hebrews says it best.  He writes, “No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.” Spot on.  He must have popped some lady too.

So, try and show some grace.  I shouldn’t have popped the lady and I haven’t popped any more.  Don’t judge my parents for taking care of the problem.  I am grateful for the way they raised me.  And don’t be mad at God if He disciplines you.  He is way too wise to make a mistake and way too loving to do the wrong thing.  He is our “Abba Father,” our Dearest Daddy so we can trust Him.  We can rest in Him.  Because…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

She did it again. I know you have heard about the Tooth Fairy and probably your Fairy Godmother but have you ever heard about the “Underwear Fairy?”  I am pretty certain this is not a one house deal.  I haven’t researched it extensively but from what I can gather this behind-the-scenes, mythical being shows up in houses across America and possibly around the world.

So it goes something like this.  Everyone has routines and mine looks something like this.  Wakeup, coffee with the weather lady on our local channel, quiet time with God, more coffee, exercise, breakfast, nice hot shower and get dressed for the day.  Part of that getting dressed thing involves the unmentionables of the underworld—underwear. And here is where it gets amazing.

Everyday I open a drawer in my bathroom and behold there are underwear in there.  I grab them up, put them on and bam out the door I go. Amazing.  As the days pass, the supply gets lower and lower.  And then out of the clear blue sky the drawer is full again and the process starts all over again.  I couldn’t really figure this out till one day it dawned on me.  There must be an “Underwear Fairy” who washed, folded and put my unmentionables right in my drawer.  Without reward, without asking, day after day and week after week, it happened.

It took a while but I finally decided to find out who this mythical person was.  So I camped out in my shower behind the curtain like a kid waiting on Santa Claus. And sure enough, I heard the sound of a drawer sliding open and jumped from behind the curtain and yelled, “Got you!” And what did my wandering eyes should behold?  An old guy in a red suit with eight tiny reindeer? No, that would have been weird.  A bunny rabbit with a basket? Weirder. Nope.  It was my wife Judy.

Yup…all along it was her.  She would go and get the dirty clothes basket out of my closet, carry those clothes down three flights of stairs, throw them into the washer, go back down later and throw them in the dryer, go back down later and get them out of the dryer and take them upstairs and fold them.  She would then sneak into my bathroom and quietly fill my drawer with my drawers and tee shirts.  Amazing.  And here is the crazy part.  She has been doing this for almost 50 years.  I can’t believe it took this long to catch her.

Well, that is how I came to discover the “Underwear Fairy” and that is also how I came to begin to learn something.  While all of us appreciate the big things people do for us, sometimes, maybe a lot of the times, it is the small things that matter.  Since this discovery it is not uncommon for me to say my wife, “Judy, the “Underwear Fairy” came.” And hopefully that is followed by a thank-you and maybe even a kiss.

I really had to weigh it carefully if I could write about underwear.  I even asked the fairy herself if she thought I could.  She wasn’t sure.  Well it wasn’t a matter of could…it was a matter of should.  Each day our lives are filled with the small things that people do for us…things we take for granted.  Why not take a moment today and say thank you.  If your husband takes out the trash, or the kids pickup the house, or one of the guys at the office buys donuts or any of a thousand things…say thanks.  Learn to appreciate the small things.

Tucked away in the Song of Solomon in your Bible (That is one of the books the preacher never preaches from. You might need the table of contents.) are these words, “Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that ruin the vineyards, our vineyards that are in bloom.”  The little foxes can be those missed opportunities when we take others for granted resulting in ingratitude. Relationships can grow stale and love can whither on the vine if we fail to water them with gratitude. Remember that.

So you might need to stop and look for the fairies and foxes in your house, your neighborhood or where you work.  Be sure and thank those around you that make your life just a little easier.  And for sure if you see the fox of ingratitude—“shoot that thing.” Oh, and on your list, be sure you have God at the top of the list of things to be grateful for.  Everyday from sunrise to sunset and beyond He is working behind the scenes and writing you love notes with acts of mercy and kindness.  Things like letting you rest in Him.  Things like letting you know, “I’ve got this.”  And He does.  Bro. Dewayne 

 “Consider it a great joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you experience various trials, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance.” James 1:2-3

At first it seemed unfair but then, there it was, conspiracy.  There is a lot of talk today about conspiracy schemes.  When and whatever happens there is someone who will say there is a dark diabolical reason for it happening.  I wasn’t sure about it until it happened to me.  Yes, there was a conspiracy.

During the COVID mess, my wife Judy and I were able to attend a pastor’s conference in North Carolina.  It was so good to pack a few things, jump into our 44 mpg Jetta and hit the road.  Willie Nelson’s “On the Road Again” was ringing in my ears.  We cruised across Tennessee and were heading toward North Carolina when it happened.  About five miles from the border, our GPS talky thing said, in her most gentle voice, “traffic ahead.”  Well, it wasn’t like we were in Chicago or something so that could only mean trouble.

Soon, very soon, trouble was staring me in the face.  Break-lights and slowing vehicles were everywhere.  We were in a slowdown—we were in—traffic.  Signage and the talky thing confirmed my worse fears—there was construction ahead.  Now you need to know something.  First, I am not patient in traffic.  Ok, that wasn’t totally transparent.  I am totally impatient in traffic.  In fact, I’m not patient period.  Whether it be in traffic or at the store, I am changing lanes like a one-armed paperhanger looking for the shortest and fastest lane.  The Bible says we are fearfully and wonderfully made but I must have missed the patience part.

Have you ever been driving and the traffic going in the opposite direction is stopped and you are feeling sorry for them?  Well, I was the one stopped, and I could just feel the empathy of the other drivers.  It turned out to be about a 45-minute stop and go.  The amazing part was I did pretty good.  Judy was beaming at my surprised patience.  I even said, “Well, at least going home we won’t have to deal with this.”  Soon (though not soon enough) we were through the construction—we were on our way.  Hit the fast forward button.

That was Wednesday.  Too quickly the days of the conference went by and in no time, it was time to go home.  After the conference ended at noon, we jumped into our 44 mpg Jetta and hit the road toward home.  Willie was once again whirling around in my head singing “On the Road Again.”  We were nearing the site of Wednesday’s lesson in patience feeling confident and glad that we were heading in the other direction.  And then it happened.  The GPS talky thing mentioned traffic, 14 miles per hour, and delays. Wait. What?  We were not supposed to have to deal with this. And this is when I knew there was a conspiracy.  They had changed sides.

Here’s how I think it played out.  The North Carolina Department of Transportation called the conference center, asked when I was leaving and then quickly moved the construction to the West bound side so they could get me again.  I am sure of it.  So, another slowdown, another wait in traffic, but this time they were merciful since it was only 27 minutes and 14 seconds.  Oh yes, I was counting.  And the people going east, were zooming by with looks of mercy for those of us stuck.  It just wasn’t fair.

I know the Bible well enough to know that you don’t pray for patience.  That is one prayer you won’t hear passing through my lips.  Pray for patience and you end up with traffic. Pray for patience and you end up locked in your house with three kids for three months.  So, I got that.  But there is a pesky couple of verses found in James 1:2-3 that says, “Consider it a great joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you experience various trials, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance.” I really like the Bible, but I really don’t like those verses.

Of all the emotions I feel when I am sitting in traffic, joy is not the one that comes to mind—and certainly not great joy.  But then I read verse 3 and it gives me pause.  James says I should appreciate the moments in traffic because it helps me to grow. It helps me to be a better person.  It helps me be stronger—it builds endurance.  Like lifting weights at the gym strengths muscles so trying situations strengthens our faith in God.  Which means part of our crazy world should be to make us stronger in our faith.  Hmmmm.

Well, in the end I did pretty good through traffic lesson number two and we managed to get home that evening just about on time.  Truth be known…God was good, God was faithful and even in traffic, God can be trusted.  No matter what, He has my good at His heart.  He wants me to thrive in this world and not just survive.  And that means sometimes learning patience sitting in traffic.  As you travel today wherever and however that looks, just know God is the traffic manager of your life.  Just sit back, enjoy the pause and rest in Him. He’s got this. Honk, Honk.  Bro. Dewayne

“Be merciful, just as your Father also is merciful.” Luke 6:36

I heard her before I saw her. I was sitting in the backyard enjoying a beautiful Spring early afternoon and I could hear two things.  First, there was a heavy, shuffling of someone’s feet. It is the sound when a person’s feet never quite leave the ground amplified by the heavy shoes on their feet.  Second, there was a quiet mumbling coming from the same place.  I got up for some reason and walked from the patio to our driveway and as I did, I glanced down the alley that runs next to our house.  That is when I saw her.

She was wearing a worn-out flowery dress that hadn’t seen a washing machine in a very long time.  The heavy shoes that I had heard were a pair of rubber boots that strangely were flowered like her dress.  With each step, as I suspected, her feet barely left the ground. At first, I thought she might be physically challenged which caused her shuffling but then I noticed that she was staggering as her feet shuffled. It was obvious that she was under the influence of something—drunk or high or both.

I said hello to her, but she didn’t hear me or ignored me.  It was one of those times when she was there physically but not mentally. About that time some of my tribe joined me in the driveway.  My son-in-law recognized the woman and said the other day she had pulled a hatchet on him and my daughter while they were walking, and I guess that explained what happened next.

I mentioned how sad I felt for her, but I guess because of the hatchet deal he didn’t share my compassion. She struggled on past us and make it to the end of the alley.  While attempting to cross the busy street in front of our house almost stepped in front of a car. We all sorta gasped and it was then that someone mumbled something along the line that it probably would have been better if the car had hit her. I gave the Jesus lecture about she was someone that God loved, and Jesus died for, but they weren’t buying it. Oh, not that they are a hard-hearted lot, but compassion for her had been fatally wounded by the story of an old rusty hatchet.

In this crazy story, I was wanting to judge them for judging her. The bottom line is they should have felt more compassion for her—hatchet or not and I should have felt more understanding for them because of the hatchet.  You see, it really is easy to enter the courtroom of judgement in life, isn’t it? And it’s too easy to extend mercy to one while withholding from another. Perhaps it would be better to leave the judging to the one true Judge while extending mercy to everyone and anyone.  After all, that is what He did and that is what He does.  Until we have walked a while in someone else’s shoes, we probably will misread the story.  When you find yourself in an alley or anywhere else and you are tempted to judge, just remember the One who extended mercy to you…the One who no matter what…always has this.  Bro. Dewayne

 “Pilate said, “So you are a king?” Jesus responded, “You say I am a king. Actually, I was born and came into the world to testify to the truth. All who love the truth recognize that what I say is true.” “What is truth?” Pilate asked. John 18:37-38a

I am a fan of history but that doesn’t mean I know a lot.  I really do like to investigate things of the past. To me it is always fascinating to peer into the past and discover how things happened…or didn’t happen.  And, of course, there is the learning factor.  If we are wise, we can look back and learn. It has been said that those who don’t learn from the past are destined to repeat it. That can be a deal, or no deal but it can also be a tragedy.

I was reading a devotion from Pastor Greg Laurie recently.  He has a great ministry out in California, and he was writing about a guy we think a lot about—especially at this time of the year. His name—Pilate. He plays a minor major role in the Easter story.  He was the Roman leader that interrogated Jesus asking, “What is truth” and then washed his hands, figuratively and physically, of the whole Jesus affair.  In so doing, he condemned Jesus to the cross and by personally rejecting Jesus—he condemned himself to an eternity without God.

In the Roman world, men like Pilate, placed in power by a totally corrupt empire, thought themselves as gods.  They held absolute power and sway over people and their lives. Offend them and you probably would pay heavily for it. I can imagine Pilate that day somewhat drunk with power as he presided over the fate of Jesus. We can see he did wrestle with the decision but in the end, securing his continued power was all that mattered. He couldn’t risk making Rome mad, so he threw Jesus, so to speak, to the dogs.

I never considered what happened to Pilate, but Laurie sheds some light on the matter. He writes, “Pilate gave up everything for power and prestige. And how did it work out for him? According to history, he ultimately suffered banishment from high office to a place called Gaul. There, he was left broken and destitute, unwanted by Caesar, and all alone.”

But wait, there is more, much more. Laurie continues, “One night, under the cover of darkness, Pontius Pilate, the great Roman governor who could have received forgiveness from the Son of God, went out and hung himself. A workman found his body. His craving for popularity cost him everything. Had he chosen to, he could have believed in Jesus on the spot, and Jesus would have forgiven him.”

What an incredibly sad ending to a sad story. If there ever is a time when we need to learn from the past…it is here and it is now. If you are pondering the reality of Jesus and whether to follow Him or reject Him, if you are wondering if it is truly worth it or not, if you are weighing the price, remember Pilate. He indeed gave up everything for power and prestige. There is a song that asks, “What will you do with Jesus, neutral you cannot be. One day your heart will be asking, “What will He do with me, what will He do with me.” God is inviting you into His family. Worried you messed up too much?  You don’t need to. He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

 “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life and no one comes to the Father but by Me.” John 14:6

Some things never change. As we were growing up, we all learned various nursery rhymes and fairy tales.  Some were funny, some serious, and some a little bizarre.  One of my favorites was Humpty Dumpty.   Why?  I think because his story could have easily been our story—after all, we’ve all fallen off a wall at one time or another. I love the story too because what didn’t happen for old Humpty Dumpty, can happen for us. 

If there had been a headline that day it might have read something like this, “Local Egg Takes a Tumble.” The story would begin with, “Apparently a well-known and respected egg, Humpty Dumpty, decided to take a rest on top of a wall just outside of town. While sitting there he lost his balance, fell off the wall and was shattered into several pieces. Fortunately for Mr. Dumpty there were witnesses who immediately called 911. Paramedics, along with representatives from the local government, were quickly on the scene. It is reported that local clergy were also on scene, though they didn’t stay long. Unfortunately, no one was unable to put Mr. Dumpty back together again.” 

What a sad tale! There he lay–his life in pieces–kinda like a lot of folks today. You would have thought the local citizenry, government, and churches would have been sympathetic but no. First, some questioned why an egg was on the wall in the first place. After all, given his rounded bottom he was certainly a high risk. Second, he was in a fragile state–in fact, he lived in a fragile state. Others blamed the builders of the wall. If the wall had only been six inches high, he wouldn’t have suffered such massive fractures. Others blamed the weather service because they didn’t put out a high wind warning that day for eggs on walls. And the church–well, they said a respectable egg should have been in church, for it was a Sunday.

Well on and on it went, and in the end–Mr. Dumpty was still broken. You know, some things never change. When sin entered the world Adam blamed God, (God, because He gave Adam the woman & Eve because she gave him the fruit), Eve blamed the snake, and the snake? Well, he just smiled. It wasn’t a time for finger pointing then, nor is it now.  For all around us are Humpty Dumpty’s…broken lives in a broken world.

But then, along comes God. God made the very first promise of a Rescuer, a Redeemer, and a Savior way back in Genesis 3. One day the Redeemer would come and provide the cure for sin–His own death on a Roman cross–and then come back to life thus defeating death forever. And the snake, well, he would be cast into a very hot fire for a very long time.

You see, I am so glad that God is more interested in redemption than blaming. He is still inviting people, all people, to come home. Scared people, sick people, broken people, mean people, and nice people–all get the same invitation–come home. And the path is always the same. Jesus said in John 14:6 “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life and no one comes to the Father but by Me.” It’s not religion, it’s not good works, and it’s not winning by out-blaming the person next to you. It is grace.

The world could use a little good news don’t you think? So today why not share some? When you see the next scared person, the next broken person, the next difficult person (and it might be in the mirror), just assure them that God loves them and that regardless of their past they can come home. Tell them to rest in Him. Why? Because He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

 “I have loved you even as the Father has loved me. Remain in my love.” John 15:9

It came from the backseat.  My entry into the world of pastoring was…abrupt.  I told God I was willing to be a pastor and the next thing I knew…I was one.  I spoke at a small church about 25 miles from where we lived. They were kind enough to invite me to come back and that is when it happened.  They asked me and my wife Judy to leave the room and when we went back in, they said, “We just voted to ask you to be our pastor.”  Well, I was honored but told them I didn’t know how to do that.  They smiled and said, “Don’t worry…we will teach you.”  And they did.

Soon we were in love with them, and they loved us back.  So, our lives changed dramatically and very quickly. When I became their pastor, we had one daughter, Rebecca and Judy was pregnant with our second child.  Jennifer came into our family in August and our Sunday mornings went from crazy to crazier.  New to this pastor thing, I wanted to get to our church before anyone else and since we lived some distance away, we had to leave pretty early.

These were the early days of car seats but the bottom line was the same.  Every child had to be strapped into a car seat.  That included cute little three-year-old blonds who were not fond of car seats…cute little three-year-old blonds who would later declare, “Give me my way and it will be ok.”  Well, one Sunday morning, Rebecca decided she was not going in the car seat.  So, it fell to me to convince her that one way or another she was.  There was a battle and I’m sure of two things.  First, she did end up in the car seat.  Second, I’m sure I wasn’t feeling very spiritual as I drove to church that morning.

So, after wrangling her into the car seat and with sweet little, innocent baby Jennifer on the other side, we left for church.  The crying was over and there was a deafening silence from the back seat.  And then, it happened. From the silence came this sweet, child’s voice that said five words that to this day are part of our tribe’s history.  Those five words were, wait for it, “I’m standing on the inside.” I know, I just know, Judy and I had to look at each other and refrain from laughing. I.Am.Standing.On.The.Inside.

Well, the rest of the trip is lost to time but who cares…we had our memory.  As I said earlier that little blond was just a little strong willed from the beginning and yes, she later said, “Just give me my way and it will be ok.” Well, I’m sure only a few of you know our oldest daughter but after a few, ok, more than a few times of knocking our heads together (figuratively speaking) she has grown into one of my favorite people.  And more than a few times I have referred to that Sunday morning.

It is no secret that a lot of us have a bent toward rebellion.  Sometimes it is with parents, sometimes spouses, and too often with God.  Rebellion is what got us in trouble with God in the first place.  God said no and our original parents in the Garden of Eden said, “Yes” and the rest is history.  Why is that?  Well, there are many reasons but a primary one is a lack of trust and understanding.  You see, little Rebecca thought I was being mean.  I knew I was being loving and responsible.  I was trying to protect her.  And guess what?  So is God. In fact, John 15:9 says, “I have loved you even as the Father has loved me. Remain in my love.” Wow!

You see, He knows all about the pain, suffering and consequences of sin and wants to protect us from that.  His book, the Bible, really isn’t a law book…it is a love book and in one way or another that is declared verse after verse, page after page, and chapter after chapter. If we listen carefully, we will hear the Whisperer whispering and often it will be words of love and encouragement.  And, sometimes, we will just have to sit in the car seat…period.  There are two things we can take to the bank.  First, He has our best interest in mind. Period.  And secondly, that no matter what, car seat or not, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

“Our lives last seventy years or, if we are strong, eighty years. Even the best of them are struggle and sorrow; indeed, they pass quickly and we fly away. Teach us to number our days carefully so that we may develop wisdom in our hearts.” Psalm 90:10, 12

Can You Believe…

“Can you believe another month has come and gone?”  For the  last twenty four years on the first of every month that has been my tag line for the “Baptist Hour.” And now, that part of my ministry life has come to a close. I’m not sure what I will do now at 7:00 am on the first of every month!

So, first, the Baptist Hour is supposed to be the longest continuously running religious radio program in the world.  Second, our church sponsors that program on the first of every month. So, every first of the month that’s where you will find me at 7:00 am.  And it all began like this.

I came as pastor for Dorrisville Baptist Church in July 2000.  We were one week out from Vacation Bible School.  I was moving in, getting settled and wondering what in the world had I gotten myself into.  I believe it was a Wednesday the week of Bible School and my new friend Ben Sisk found me somewhere in the Preschool Department.  Ben was the chairman of our deacons, old enough to know Noah personally and was just a great guy. He tapped me on the shoulder and said these words, “Has anyone told you that you are on the radio tomorrow morning at 7:00 am?”  That loud thud was the sound was my jaw hitting the floor.

“What?” I asked.  It wasn’t that we weren’t both speaking English it was just it caught me totally off-guard.  I had nothing prepared (obviously), I had never spoken on the radio, never talked to a microphone in an empty room and finally, I was drowning in the “new kid on the block” waters.  Well, all that didn’t matter because it was my deal.  So another pastor agreed to accompany me for moral support and off I went.  I survived.

I don’t remember too much about it all I just remember getting though it.  “Whew…glad that is over.” I said under my breath. And do you know what happened? In 31 extremely short days it was time to do it again.  It was like the movie “Ground Hog Day” except it was 24 hours though it sure seemed like it. So I got to the station, got behind the mike and said, “Can you believe another month has come and gone?” And the rest is history.  It’s all old hat now.  I enjoy the opportunity to share and I love saying, “Can you believe another month has come and gone?”

So every first of the month I went to the radio station and said it.  But here’s what is amazing.  I really can’t believe another month has come and gone.  This is April which means we are starting month number four in this world gone crazy.  It means that we are eight months away from Christmas and it means that time is going by very quickly.  And, before we know it, this season, and this year will be gone.  When you are treading water like so many of us are, it is easy to zone out and just try and make it.  God has a better idea.

In Psalm 90:10, Moses writes to us and says, “Our lives last seventy years or, if we are strong, eighty years. Even the best of them are struggle and sorrow; indeed, they pass quickly and we fly away.” I woke up earlier this year and realized that I was 72 years old.  Where did the time go?  They are indeed passing quickly and one day, each of us will, “fly away.”  But until the day we launch into eternity Moses has one more piece of advice.  He says in verse 12, “Teach us to number our days carefully so that we may develop wisdom in our hearts.” In other words we have to make each day matter—each day count.

I know in my life, and I can imagine in your’s, we are both wishing time away.  We are saying, “I’ll be glad when all this is over.”  It’s akin to saying on Monday, “I’ll be glad when Friday comes.”  Wait a second before you pause the “do not disturb” button or go into standby mode.  There is too much to do—too many opportunities to grab, too many blessings to live and too many adventures to launch into.  Paul tells us in Ephesians 5:15-16 “Pay careful attention, then, to how you live—not as unwise people but as wise—making the most of the time because the days are evil.”  Making the most of the time—even suffering time, even corona virus time, even this time.

One of my favorite verses to use out of context is when Jesus was speaking to Judas.  In John 13:27 He says, “What you’re doing, do quickly.” So, whatever you are needing to do, wanting to do—do quickly—don’t put it off.  Today is the day and now is the time to do life right.  Love someone, encourage someone, be kind to someone—give your spouse and kids a hug.  Laugh.  Smile. Oh and take some time to rest in Him.  And most of all? Remember, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne