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 “What shall we say about such wonderful things as these? If God is for us, who can ever be against us?” Romans 8:31

They say that outlook is everything. Some people are always asking, “Is the glass half full or half empty?” I just want to know what’s in the glass. I remember a great story about two salesmen. One was sent to the wilds of Africa to sell shoes. He arrived and pretty quickly sent this message to the company headquarters: “Bring me home immediately. No opportunity. No one here wears shoes. Waste of time.” So they brought the guy home. Not wanting to give up, they sent another salesman. This guy arrived on the scene and also quickly sent a message to the company headquarters. It read, “Please respond as quick as you can. Opportunities abound everywhere. Everyone is barefoot and need shoes. Send all that you have…what a future.” Well I guess they are right. It all depends on your outlook.

Like many folks, Judy and I have a treadmill in our home. It sits downstairs where Judy has her office. The treadmill and I on occasion have been very good friends, however, we just don’t see eye to eye. He wants me to get on and walk ferociously and go absolutely nowhere. I prefer to walk outside and actually move. Now if it is pouring down rain or ten degrees below freezing that is fine—we are buds. But on a normal day, well, we just agree to disagree. He thinks we should get together every day. I’m thinking more like only when absolutely necessary. Frankly, and don’t tell him I said this, our relationship was always kinda painful. He sees himself as a path to being healthy…my new BFF. I see him as someone out of one of those torture movies where some guy named Egor is always tightening the screws.

We have a three grandchildren who absolutely adore the treadmill! Often when they visit, one of their constant questions is, “Papa, can we use the treadmill?” It’s like they’re always asking, and I’m not sure why. I try to avoid it, but they seem to embrace it. One day, I asked Judy, “What’s the deal with the treadmill—why do Taylor, Will and Grayson love it so much?” Her idea was that the “no” factor was the reason. Since they often got turned down, they kept asking. Maybe it’s the “thrill” factor, too—the excitement of it all. Or maybe it’s something completely different.

My theory is that instead of seeing it as a device for torture, they see it like a toy—something fun. They’ll turn it down slowly and let it carry them from the front to the back. They’ll see how fast they can go without getting ejected and sometimes, they just walk. Honestly, they don’t use it for its intended purpose (which, by the way, is torture) but as something they can jump on or off, ride (though not for long)—maybe an adventure.

I’m probably stretching it here, but I just wonder if I changed my attitude about my friend the treadmill, would we enjoy our times together more? What if I saw him as a partner and convenience, not the enemy? It probably doesn’t matter much to him since he’s just an inanimate object getting walked on, but it would definitely be good for me. I’m pretty consistent with my exercise, but on those hot summer mornings ahead, my friend could help me stay healthy. He fulfills his purpose (which, by the way, is not to hang clothes on), and I make Judy happy by walking even more. How about that?

How we look at things can really make a difference. When we focus on the good side instead of the bad, it can not only change how we feel but also help us grow as people. It might even change how we see God. Too often, we think of Him as someone who wants to hurt us, but He’s actually there to save us, to help us, and to bless us. The Bible says, “What should we say about such wonderful things as these? If God is for us, who can ever be against us?” Can you imagine? The God who made everything wants to be your best friend forever. Like our friend the treadmill, He’s just waiting for us to make time for Him. When we do, we’ll find out that He wants to help us become better versions of ourselves. Give Him a chance. Take a break from the “going nowhere” rat race and trust Him. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

 “And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of His return is drawing near.” Hebrews 10:25

It’s was my new favorite! It was a long time ago, but I can still remember my first visit to Cracker Barrel. We were driving back from a trip to the holy land (Georgia), and we were somewhere north of Atlanta when we saw a sign that said, “Cracker Barrel.” We didn’t have a clue about what they served but it sure sounded good, so we pulled in and like they say, “The rest is history.” While I like a lot of what “the Barrel” serves, their breakfast is still one of my favorites. Number one used to be the standard eggs, grits (no sugar), bacon, biscuits, gravy with the crown jewel of pancakes covered with butter, syrup with fried apples and whipped cream.  Whew—I almost need a nap just typing all that.  But like I said that used to be number one.  Well, at least for a while there was a new kid in town.

A couple of years ago I was having breakfast with my good friend Jeremy and was just checking out the menu before I ordered just to make sure I wasn’t missing something.  Turns out I was.  As my eyes went from left to right and up and down the page I saw, “Bacon N’ Egg Hashbrown Casserole.” “Hmmm” I thought and read the ingredients.  It said, “Our scratch-made Hashbrown Casserole, hot off the grill and layered with pieces of crispy bacon, farm-fresh scrambled eggs, melted Colby cheese, fried onions, and fresh diced tomatoes. Served with Buttermilk Biscuits.”

Well, shoot that thing! I thought that sounded tasty.  So, I customized it a bit (limp bacon instead of crispy and eggs sunny side up instead of scrambled) and waited for this masterpiece to come.  Soon enough it arrived, and one bite transported me into hog heaven. You see while some folks like their food all separate, I am a food mixer and for me that made this a winner. When that spoonful of hashbrown casserole, Colby cheese, egg yolk, bacon, fried onion and diced tomatoes hit my taste buds it was like the Fourth of July all over again and a new Cracker Barrel favorite was named.

So, what made that happen? Well, I like all those different things individually but for me, and I am speaking for me, when all those flavors and different textures came together it really was awesome.  You see, with food, it is when things come together that winners are born. Let’s be honest. I’m not a big fan of flour until it lands in a biscuit. I’m not a big fan of butter until it is slathered on a biscuit—and on and on it goes.  When food things come together, Katie, bar-the-door.  But that’s not all.

You see God knew that a long, long time before Cracker Barrel. He knew that when His kids come together with Him, even the impossible becomes possible. That is why He tells us not to stop coming together, meeting together, as some people do.  When we are together on the same page big things can happen. Now don’t forget that—because I promise you Satan wants us to.  He knows apart we will have a come apart. He knows divided from each other and separated from God we are in deep weeds.  We need to stay together and close to our Dearest Daddy.  So, instead of staying home from church and staying away from God, why not do the opposite.  Do you find some people just too hard to hang with?  Well, just talk to God about it.  After all, He’s got that too.” Bro. Dewayne

 “If My people who are called by My name humble themselves, and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land.” 2 Chronicles 7:14

Happy birthday, America! Tomorrow we celebrate the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence.  That was the time when brave patriots, and not just the ones who signed the document itself, said, “enough is enough.” It was the time when they dared to dream of something bigger and better than the life they had. It was the time when they wished something more not only for themselves but also for the generations to come.  They wished for something more for us.

Tomorrow is July 4th and I will go to my closet and pull out one of my favorite shirts. It is an explosion of patriotism–a celebration of the stars and stripes that make up our great flag. The shirt is a full-blown declaration of love for this great country.  It is colored with the colors of our country…red for the blood that has been shed that we could be free…white for the purity of the motive of those who have served…and died for this great country…and blue for their loyalty to the American ideals—such as we are all created equal. I know we are still working on that one but regardless it is a standard worth working for.

Before I walk out the door, I will grab my favorite veterans cap.  It is old and a bit floppy, but I love it too.  It carries the emblem of the Air Force on the front and the letters U.S.A.F on the bill and the back.  Finally, also across the back, it says “above all.” When I joined the Air Force, I raised my right hand and took an oath to “protect the constitution of the United States against all enemies…foreign and domestic.”  I also committed to obey the orders of those appointed over me. Because of that oath, those words on that cap are a testament of this veteran and every Air Force veteran that our service and willingness to sacrifice could and should be second only to our sacrifice and service to God.

I love America. I am proud that, by God’s grace, I was born an American. I am grateful that I was given the opportunity to serve America in her Armed Forces. The tragedy today is that too many have come to the conclusion that because she is not perfect, that she hasn’t lived up to all her ideals, that somehow that makes her less than.  Well, the truth is America is like us because America is us. And like us she never will be perfect but that doesn’t mean we should walk away from her. If America is her people, then perhaps we should complain less and step up to make her more.

My prayer would be that God would continue to bless this great land…not because we deserve it, because we don’t, but rather as an act of His amazing grace. The song says it best, “O beautiful for spacious skies, For amber waves of grain, For purple mountain majesties, Above the fruited plain! America! America! God shed His grace on thee, And crown thy good with brotherhood From sea to shining sea!” The second verse continues, “O beautiful for pilgrim feet Whose stern impassioned stress, A thoroughfare for freedom beat Across the wilderness! America! America! God mend thine every flaw, Confirm thy soul in self-control, Thy liberty in law!”

Let me suggest that we make a prayer for our country a daily matter of prayer.  After all, the One who made us is the One who can fix us.  Don’t forget, even in and especially in matters of our country, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

 “Where there is no vision, the people perish.” Proverbs 29:18

It was on my bucket list.  I confess…I am a pretty big fan of America. I mean, even with all of its warts, and there are plenty, with all its flaws, surely a bucket full, it is the best place to call home.  Over the years I have visited over twenty-nine countries—some in Europe, some in Asia and some in Africa.  Some were affluent, some were poor, and some were somewhere in between. All had something to offer but none could match this land I call home.  While some of my visits were brief, my wife Judy and I lived three years in Germany and the final word was…wait for it…home is better…there is and was no place like home.

I think the secret to learning to appreciate where you live is to learn to look for the good and not bad, the whole and not the broken.  The way we look at things can vastly change how we experience things.  A while back, I mentioned a quote from a movie that I had watched which, by the way, was based on a true story.  The guy said, “There are two ways to live—either nothing is a miracle, or everything is a miracle.” He opted for the latter and I think I will too.

A few years ago we were out west on a trip with part of our tribe.  The main, but not only, destination was to see Mount Rushmore.  I’ve seen a chunk of America, but I hadn’t seen that…and yes, it was on my bucket list.  So, the day came. As we drove toward the monument, suddenly, around a curve we were face to face, if you will, with Washington, Roosevelt, Jefferson and Lincoln and it was amazing.  We parked the car and frankly, the closer we got, the more amazing it became.

This great tribute to America (no, it wasn’t just a tribute to four men) took over fourteen years to build.  As you keep in mind it was about ninety years ago, you begin to appreciate the vision, work, and skill that it took to turn a mountain into a monument.  I was amazed to learn that many of the workers, who often had 12 hours days, were paid about $14 dollars…a week.  Those were hard times, and they were grateful to have a job.  But for many…the job became a passion…a mission…a cause to believe in.

Somewhere along the journey, they stopped seeing a mountain and began to see presidents.  Somewhere along the journey they began to see what Gutzon Borglum saw. While the project wasn’t his idea (that belongs to a guy named Doane Robinson) he was the one that chose that mountain.  The quality of the stone led him there and, honestly, where others saw just a mountain, he saw presidents. He.Saw.Presidents.

So, perhaps, just perhaps, it does matter what we see around us.  Perhaps if we choose to see miracles…or like Borglum to see monuments where others see just a block of stone, perhaps we can help make this world a better place.  Perhaps our lives, regardless of our messy circumstances, will take on a deeper meaning and a deeper purpose.  Perhaps if we learn that it is not about us but about others…things will change…for the better.

One of the writers in the Old Testament part of the Bible said that when people don’t have a vision, when they choose to see desolation rather than miracles, well, they perish.  It is true individually and it is true corporately.  If we are going to see a better world, two things need to happen.  First, we need to learn not to just see a mountain but what that mountain can become.  Secondly, and this one is for God followers, we need to believe again that with God nothing is impossible.  Even in these times of great change, let’s choose to believe again.  And why stop there?  Why don’t we determine to see presidents where others see mountains and believe that “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne 

 “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in Me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing.” John 15:5

It is a beautiful song. Music has long played a major part in my life. Oh, it’s not that I am way talented and can play multiple instruments—it more that I just love music. There are only a few types of music that cause me to push away…most seem to draw me in…move my soul. And trust me…I count it as a gift. I can stomp my foot with the best at a good country song and marvel at the harmony of a gifted bluegrass group. I love the blending of voices of southern gospel and barbershop. Music can cause my memories to soar as when John Denver belts out Rocky Mountain High and another pair sings about laughter in the rain.

Even as I write this I’m smiling. During my one winter in Minot, North Dakota (courtesy of the United States Air Force) only one guy had a car. We would stuff it full every two weeks on payday and drive the twenty miles into town for two cheeseburgers, a fry, and a coke at McDonald’s. Two things were gimmes on the trip.  We would play “freeze out—rolling down all the windows with the thermometer hovering at ten degrees to see how long we could stand it. The other was all of us singing at the top of our lungs the hits of the day—especially John Denver singing about country roads that one day would take us home.

Take.Us.Home. Nothing stirs my soul more than songs about a God who loves me more than any words can express and Who one day will take me home. I’ve come to realize that music is often the best language to encourage a broken heart and a longing soul. I was at a conference and bumped into one of those game changing songs.  The worship team sang a song called, “Abide.” It is a mellow but hopeful song about God and how He watches over us in our day by day walk about life. One of the many key thoughts is based on what Jesus said in John 15:5. The songwriter put it this way, “You’re the Way, the Truth and the Life, You’re the well that never runs dry, I’m the branch and You are the Vine, draw me close and teach me to abide.” How lovely…how thoughtful…how moving.

I love to go to YouTube and watch and listen as Aaron Williams passionately sings these words. In the room with him is a guy playing keyboards. I watch as his fingers dance over the keys. Also in the room is a woman playing the cello. Oh my, at her command the rich tones fill the room and cause me to worship. Finally, there is Aaron playing the guitar and artfully singing the beautiful lyrics.  All of this comes together and soothes my heart. This is a song I shared with my sister who was battling cancer and a dear friend who is also doing the same. She loved it, he loves it, and I love it too.

One of my favorite lines in the song says, “When I pass through death, as I enter rest, I depend on You, I depend on You. For eternal life to be raised with Christ…I depend on You, I depend on You.” What wonderful words of promise. We will all face death one day but each one of us who knows Jesus will not stay there…we will pass through…depending on Him. So, I hope you too will discover or rediscover the world of music…especially the wonder of worship.  Allow it to teach you, fresh and renew, the truth that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Abide (with lyrics)  https://youtu.be/BLDEt9KP2O0

Abide (live video) https://youtu.be/BA-Wi4fdcVE

 “For whatever was written in the past was written for our instruction, so that we may have hope through endurance and through the encouragement from the Scriptures.” Romans 15:4

It’s just a little confusing.  It was 2021 and after attending the Memorial Day service and doing a little yard work, my wife Judy and I decided to go to Paducah, Kentucky to look around for a couple of chairs or perhaps a small sofa to complete a project we have been working on at home.  We loaded up and headed south across the river to the land of grits. And the point of this story all began with traveling.  You see that year we did a lot of it in the spring. We had flown to Denver and then driven a thousand miles or so in Colorado, Wyoming, and South Dakota.  We saw a lot of things and a lot of them were simply beautiful.  The mountains and canyons were spectacular.  We also saw some things that were hard. We saw some extreme poverty as some folks tried to eke out a living in the barren desert hills and valleys of Wyoming.  We saw the results of a wildfire that ravaged a large portion of the Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado.  Those were hard.  But some things there and closer to home were just confusing.

The confusing part centered around what to do with that 4×6 piece of cloth or paper which was called, “the mask.” If you remember, we used to only see them on the evening news and donned by folks in other countries such as China.  And then, suddenly, ready, or not, they became a part of our lives.  The big question was…mask or no mask? That year when it came to flying there was no doubt about the mask.  When you stepped in the airport it was required…and then you didn’t take it off till you, like Elvis, left the building. They were very adamant about it—threatening arrest, jail time and the loss of your first born if you didn’t comply.  I guess all that was fine, but it seemed to me they didn’t have to be so mad about it.

Once we left the airport, it was a whole different world.  Regardless of where we went or to what state we traveled to the mask requirement just wasn’t a deal.  Honestly to me that is good news.  By the time we took our trip, all the authorities were saying that the COVID thing, while not gone, was in full blown retreat.  I just wish someone would have told the airport folks too.  As we traveled, whether it was to a gas station down the street or to a National Park…no mask.  One restaurant proudly posted that, “following the CDC and Colorado Guidelines you are welcome NOT to wear a mask.”  That was followed by something like, “unless you want to.” That made me smile. Want to? Really?

Well, anyway, that was the way it was throughout the states we visited out west.  Now back to Paducah.  We stopped at a local business there. Walking to the door we realized that we had forgotten we were back in the Midwest, and I didn’t have a mask.  I told Judy we would just have to see.  When we got to the door, sure enough, it was plastered with signs about wearing a mask.  We went on in and asked the nice lady at the door if masks were required.  She told me that they were asking people to wear one and I told her I had forgotten mine…did she have one? She said they did, and I slipped it on. I asked her when their governor was going to “open the state” and she said, “Oh, that doesn’t matter, our company is the one making the rules.” What? See what I mean about confusion?  And, to make matters worse, virtually every person in the store was mask-less.  I wore mine for a while and then reverse peer pressure took over and I took it off.

By now you have got to be wondering what this story is about!  Me, too.  No not really. All of this was just a gentle reminder for me to be grateful for the Bible…the Word of God.  Though written over 1,500 years by a bunch of different writers, it has stood the test of time. It is as solid today as it was a couple of thousand years ago.  It is refreshing to know that God won’t change His mind and issue a revision tomorrow, next month or next year.  It is refreshing to know that He got His Word right the first time.  In a world where no one seems to know what is right or wrong…the Bible hasn’t changed and personally, I like that surety.

Paul, one of the guys who wrote most of the New Testament, was writing a letter to some Jesus followers in Rome.  It was during the time when being a follower of Jesus could cost you your life.  Speaking about the scriptures, he said, “For whatever was written in the past was written for our instruction, so that we may have hope through endurance and through the encouragement from the Scriptures.”  In other words, God gave us His Word to help us along this journey called life and to encourage us too.  That is good news.  If you haven’t read it in a while, you might want to check it out for yourself.  You might be pleasantly surprised.  It has sure been a help to me…especially during these morally and culturally confusing days.  It was there that I learned the great truth I close with each time we meet.  Here it is…are you ready?  “He’s got this” and indeed He does! Bro. Dewayne

 “The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord…and He delights in His way.” Psalm 37:23

Did you know that some angels come from Bowling Green, Kentucky?  Well, about three years ago my wife Judy and I returned from vacation.  Now, I really like vacations which is why I really like retirement. It is kinda like one really long vacation.  We are blessed that God has provided the means for us to go  We saved, planned, and decided a return trip to Punta Cana sounded like just the thing we needed.  We bought tickets, made the reservations, and like the old Willie Nelson song says, we were back on the road again. And…we were excited!

We decided to stay at a place where we had stayed several times before.  We had a great flight down and soon we are were in paradise….well, sorta.  Truthfully, it was somewhat apparent that time had taken the wind out of the sails of our familiar place. It just wasn’t the same.  But, like we always say…at least we were away. The Dominican is a great place, but you still must be careful…stay at the resort, eat at the resort and above all…don’t drink the water. Most of the time Judy and I are good rule keepers…and we were this time, too.

Then came Wednesday.  That day I could tell my appetite was a bit off, but it was no deal. At supper that night I ate very little and as we walked back to the room, I told Judy I just felt a bit sad.  Well, in a few minutes, I found out I wasn’t sad…I was sick.  In spite of all my precautions, I apparently had the dreaded “traveler’s disease.”  If you don’t know what it is…I’ll let you look it up, but it is enough to say it ain’t fun. Period.  Well for the next two days I pretty much stayed in the room and by Saturday, going home day, I wasn’t much better.  We boarded the bus for the airport and things went from bad to worse.

As we sat there, my stomach got more and more queasy, and I was pretty certain I was going to quickly be the most unpopular guy on the bus.  Meanwhile as I doing my best to “keep my cookies,” Judy was having a great conversation with the mother of a family sitting by us.  She was talking to them, and I was talking to myself, “Don’t lose it, don’t lose it.”  Soon we arrived at the airport, thankfully with stomach intact, and got into a very long line to check our luggage for the flight.  I tried but I just couldn’t stand there so I told Judy I was going to the restroom and try and sit-down.  She kindly handled the luggage and both backpacks and I went and collapsed.

I watched from a distance.  I was praying, “God, I sure need Your help, but I know I need to trust you…so Your will be done.” While I was praying there, Judy was praying in line. Soon, but not soon enough, Judy was almost at the counter and waved for me to come on over.  I did and when I got there, the friendly family “just happened to be” in front of her.  I was standing there, more miserable than ever, and the mother’s mother, mouthed the words, “Are you ok?” I simply said I was not, telling her my stomach was very upset.  And then…it happened. The mother said, “I have some Pepto Bismol in my luggage, would you like some”?  I responded with a very grateful “yes”.

So right there, though she was next in line, she laid her luggage (which was the size of Texas) on the floor, opened it up, dug around (she packed like Judy…smile) and quickly produced a small bottle of Pepto.  I quickly opened it up and took a swig.  Borne on the wings of prayer, within a few minutes, and I do mean a few minutes, I was much better.  No, I wasn’t normal, but I knew I wouldn’t be losing my cookies.  A dose or two later and I was much, much better. I was going to survive.  And all of that…because a caring Dearest Daddy heard the prayers of His kids.

Some would be tempted to say it was happenstance, some would say it was just a nice person being nice, but for those of us who know God, we know differently.  It makes me go back to that great verse in the Old Testament part of the Bible, “The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and He delights in His way.”  You see this whole thing was all about God and not about me.  He took care of me…and it delighted Him to do so.  I love that.  So, while the vacation didn’t make the top ten…God did.  In fact, He is number one and the only One.  It just proves what we have learned together…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

“This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24

June 12th is a special day in my life.  I graduated from high school on June 8, 1972.  I am amazed that 54 years have passed beneath the bridge of my life.  Time seems to travel so quickly.  As a child it was a gentle stream and now as a mature (that is in years and not necessarily actions) adult it seems a raging torrent.  So 54 years ago I was member of the largest graduating in the state of Florida for that year…714 seniors from one high School.  Trust me…it was easy to be a small fish in that big pond.  By Monday all that was in the rearview mirror.

On Monday, June 12, 1972, I raised my right hand and swore to protect and defend the constitution of the United States and to obey the orders of those appointed in rank above me.  I was eighteen, naive, had never been away from home and wondering what in the world I had gotten myself into.  If I remember that day correctly we took the oath, had last minute medical exams, and filled out a mountain of paperwork. They took us to Morrison’s Cafeteria for a last meal of sorts and then on to the airport for the flight to Lackland Air Force Base.  Intentionally we arrived at about 2:00 am…something they still do today.  We were given a couple of hours of sleep before beginning the great journey of becoming airmen.

The privilege of serving my country for the next twelve years marks that day as one of the great days of my life. The training I received there impacted the rest of my life. The skills I received in my advance training and then in my career prepared me for something far greater then I could imagine. Little did I know on June 12, 1972, what God had planned for me.  Saddle up your horses boys…this is the great adventure.

After twelve years in the Air Force it became apparent that the winds of change were blowing in my life.  I so loved the Air Force—it was my niche, my calling.  Starting in 1980 there were these whispers from Abba Father, my Dearest Daddy, that He wanted to do something more.  It was a whisper from Him to jump into the unknown. It was a whisper to trust Him at a level that I had never before experienced.  He was calling and it was undeniable.

The details are still vivid in my mind but time doesn’t allow the whole story to be told.  On February 14, 1982, I went forward in a morning worship service and told God I would do whatever He wanted.  Four short months later I found myself still in the service but in His service pastoring a small church close to our home.  Those days were crazy days.  Over the course of a few months the deal was sealed.  He whispered that He wanted me to give myself completely to Him.  He no longer wanted share me with the Air Force.  With that, Judy and I, along with our two very young daughters, prepared to jump big.

That leads to our second June 12th.  On that date in 1983, on a hot Sunday afternoon, I sat before a large ordaining council and a larger crowd.  That day, June 12, 1983, I was ordained, set apart, to serve Him.  My fondest memory of that day came after the council had asked all their questions.  They had been graceful to me and I was grateful.  The chairman of the council told the moderator that he had no more questions.  The moderator then asked if anyone else had an questions. I only thought I was done.

An elderly pastor, slowly stood to his feet and said, “Young man, the Bible says that the husband is the head of the home.  It also says that a pastor is to rule his house well.  Are you going to rule your house well?” And he sat down. If there was ever a time that I needed for God gave me the right words to say it was probably then.  With all the intentional fortitude I could muster I said, “Yes sir…if Judy will let me.” The room erupted and I got ordained.

And here I sit forty-three years later so grateful for a God who believed in me and hundreds of people who were patient and loved me. I have seen wheelbarrows full of grace from the God of the universe and His people.  If you ever wonder why I am grace heavy in my teaching it is because I have needed it so much and I have experienced it so much. I am blessed. Game. Set. Match.

The Bible says that this day, this very one, is a day that the Lord has made.  We get to choose how we are going to live it and how we will remember it. Well I am so grateful for two days in June, both the 12th.  They are markers for this incredible journey called life. How about you?  Do you have some special days that God moved, that God spoke, that God just showed off?  Let me encourage you to celebrate them…and Him.  He is such a good Abba Father to do less is unimaginable.  So go ahead, relive the times, relive the days when He showed up, when you rested in Him, when you just knew “He’s got this.” Then you can be the whisperer and softly say, “Thank you, Father.” Bro. Dewayne

 “But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, will teach you all things and remind you of everything I have told you.” John 14:26

It was more than the title for a movie.  One by one they are slipping away.  Who?  That generation newsman and author Tom Brokaw called the greatest generation.  This generation was born and lived through the Great Depression.  Their words and testimonies fill pages and pages of books and blogs.  Words like, “we were poor but didn’t know it” or like “we had nothing but each other…and that was more than enough” ring of their wisdom and courage.

But it would seem that living and surviving the great depression was just a warmup for their finest hour…that would begin with the bombing of Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. That day, the day that President Franklin Roosevelt said, “would live in infamy,” marked the start of our country’s direct involvement in World War II.  Before it was all over, almost four years later, America would see 1,076,245 causalities.  That number includes 291,557 combat dead, 113,842 who died from other causes and 670,840 wounded.

Memorial Day of this year, I said something that I had heard many times but this time, as I spoke it, it seemed to shout at me.  I simply said, “Freedom isn’t free.”  As I spoke that day, I was freshly amazed at this generation of men and women, 16.7 million of them, who served during World War II. They marched off, self-forgotten, to strange lands and places and many of them would never come home.  Like I said, I was amazed.

Tomorrow, June 6th, 2026, is the 82nd anniversary of what has been called, “The Longest Day.” It was the day that thousands of soldiers, airmen and sailors, with thousands of ships and planes, invaded Normandy, France to begin the retaking of Europe from the grip of Nazi Germany and the Axis powers.  The courage of those men who stormed those beaches is legendary.  Imagine with me small boats, called Higgins boats, riding the waves towards Normandy with shells exploding all around.  Imagine with me seeing many, too many, of these boats literally disappearing after taking a direct hit from enemy shells. Imagine knowing that each of these boats carried several dozen men.  Sacrifice. Courage. Amazing.

There probably are not words that can describe that day.  Films like, “The Longest Day” and “Saving Private Ryan” have tried to tell the story but though their efforts are valiant they always fall short.  That day, 6,603 Americans were killed, missing, or wounded. Imagine again, as officers knocked on doors and telegrams arrived, “The Defense Department regrets to inform you…” Freedom truly isn’t free.  I know we know but I only hope we won’t forget.  Yet in most minds, this observance of “The Longest Day” won’t garner a passing thought.

When the children of Israel of Old Testament fame were crossing over into the Promised Land, they were told to take twelve stones from the middle of the Jordan River.  The sole purpose of these stones was to remind them of the miracle and the day.  That way when years later and their memories were foggy, they had the stones to remind them.  I’m not sure what stone of reminder we need but it might be as simple as a visit to the cemetery and taking the time to READ the markers and stones of those who served.  It might be as simple as taking your kids with you to show them and teach them about sacrifice and courage.  Unfortunately, it may not be taught any place else.

December 7, 1941. June 6, 1944. These are only two dates of many that are worthy of remembrance…but they are a start. Jesus knew we would need help remembering about the things of God.  That is why He said, “But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and remind you of everything I have told you.” And who knows, perhaps that same Holy Spirit will help us remember to be grateful for the sacrifice others have made on our behalf.  In fact, I’m sure He will help because that is what He does best…help. Like everything else, I’m sure, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne