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 “But if we confess our sins to Him, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins [including impatience] and to cleanse us from all wickedness.”  1 John 1:9

Traffic jams…good grief. Ok, before we go any further in this story, let me just confess that I know my impatience in traffic is probably a sin. I don’t think you will find it listed specifically in the Bible but that is only because no one had any cars.  But wait…maybe there were donkey jams…who knows.  Anyway, my wife Judy and I were on our way recently to the Billy Graham Training Center just outside of Asheville, North Carolina. We were cruising along, filled with anticipation, excited about the speaker, Jim Cymbala, and a great worship guy, Michael O’Brian. Yup it was gonna be good…if we could only get there.

Our faithful travel buddy, Waze, had warned me that there was a slight traffic jam coming up—you know, five minutes in traffic.  Waze is a great friend but this time, well, he or she failed…miserably. It went like this. To help us not sit in traffic, Waze had us detour.  It has done this before with stellar results, so I had no qualms about trusting it this time.  We soon found ourselves on a two-lane road cruising along and right before we were to rejoin the interstate there was a little, tiny construction zone—not on the interstate but on the Waze detour. No deal, right?  Wrong. This little, tiny construction zone required one lane to be closed which normally would not be a deal except for the twenty thousand people who also had Waze and had taken the detour.  The traffic people had a traffic light to manage the mess but as it turns out the light for our way heading east literally stayed green for about forty seconds.  I’m not kidding.  So, we sat there for almost thirty minutes waiting for our turn.  Ok, I was not a happy camper.  Try as I might there wasn’t an ounce of gratitude in my dusty dry soul.

Finally, it was my turn, and I sighed a great sigh of relief and then I saw it.  The thing that caused the whole mess, the mess on the interstate and all the cars on the detour waiting on the stinking light, was a forty-yard pothole repair.  That’s it. Nothing major, nothing earth shattering just a little itty-bitty road repair.  Ok, I was “fit to be tied”, and for the next fifteen miles I uttered under my breath about TDOT and whoever else had anything to do with that light and that repair.

Well, somewhere down the road the Holy Spirit was finally able to chip His way though my slightly hardened heart and I went from uttering complains to uttering a prayer that went something like, “God, it’s me. I’m sorry.” Suddenly, I realized just how foolish all this ranting and raving stuff was and boy did I feel foolish.  It was one of those times when I was very grateful for a Dearest Daddy that is more than willing to forget my disasters and my stupid’s. I’m so glad that He is more than willing to put out the fires of my soul with a big bucket full of His grace.  He is always willing to forgive.  In times like this I do wish I could better remember those three powerful yet simple words…He’s got this. Big or little…He does.  Bro. Dewayne

 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek His will in all you do, and He will show you which path to take.” Proverbs 3:5-6

Perseverance…don’t quit.  In my inventory of weaknesses is something that I wish wasn’t.  I would like to tell you that I have the perseverance of a thoroughbred race horse bolting from the gate with only one goal—to finish and to finish first.  And while I am not a quitter, I do sometimes, “peter out.”  Merriam Webster defines that as “to gradually become smaller, weaker, or less before stopping or ending”.

During my journey there were too many times when I just wasn’t sure I was going to finish well—or finish at all.  But that wasn’t always a bad thing because it caused me to look inwardly and upward—to my Dearest Daddy.

During those times when I wasn’t sure of much of anything, it was then that I found myself turning to the One who was sure.  When my steps were unsure, I found myself tracking with the One whose steps were rock solid and sure.  The last several years have taught me something of hanging in there—to persevere—to keep going.  While I was out west a while back I saw it over and over again.  First, it was a wild flower blooming in what can only be called dust.  The roots had somehow dug deep and found the water of life.  I saw it in a small tree as it grew from a crevice in a large rock.  It made no sense but somehow that tree decided there was a way to grow in an impossible place.

I saw it too from another small tree growing from a large rock in the middle of a lake.  There was no soil to be found and yet it grew…it persevered.  It decided that it would survive, it would thrive, even though the odds were totally against success.  You see, the Bible is filled with stories of men and women who trusted God against all odds.  A shepherd boy becomes a king, another “has-been” shepherd leads a million or so people to a new land—the promised land.  A band of eleven men from various walks of life chose to follow a young rabbi (who happened to be the Son of God) and the message they shared changed the world.

All of these folks failed at one time or another, but they didn’t quit.  They chose to persevere.  If you wonder how America has lasted for these 250 years, there are two reasons.  The hand of God and the perseverance of ordinary men and women who gave what they had for a cause they believed in. A.Cause.They.Believed.In.

We have survived many challenges over the years—the pandemic of 2020 is just one on the list. However, I am sure the greater enemy wasn’t the pandemic, but rather the division that swept our land like a wildfire. Someone wiser than you or me once said that a house divided against itself cannot stand—Jesus said that before Lincoln did.

William Carey, a great missionary, once said, “The future is as bright as the promises of God” and I believe that is true today.  But we need to learn from the founding fathers, from the men who stormed Normandy or trudged through the jungles of Vietnam or froze on the hills of Korea.  We have to learn again to trust the hand of God.  The Bible says that we should trust God with everything we have and turn away from the tendency to trust ourselves.  If we do that…He will guide us…He will direct us.  We also need to learn the lesson of that small tree growing from that giant rock.  We will not quit, we will persevere—we will find life in the most unlikely of places.  Trust God and don’t quit.  That sounds like a plan.

With the pandemic in the rearview mirror, it seems to some degree we have been given a second chance.  I hope we will take advantage of this gift God has given us.  I hope we will learn the power of perseverance and the power of four simple words, “Love God…Love People.”  I may not know what tomorrow holds but I do know the One who holds tomorrow and that is good enough for me.  I am certain no matter what, that as always, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

 “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace. Your suffering is over.” Mark 5:34

She knew the pain of isolation. For her rejection was a way of life. For twelve years she was alone. For twelve years she felt the pain of rejection. For twelve years she knew nothing but unworthiness. We don’t know her real name. Her condition named her–defined her. She was known as the “woman with an issue of blood.”

That name made her unacceptable in most circles. Church? “So sorry, unworthy.” Her neighborhood? “So sorry, unclean.” Her family? Well, there really wasn’t one that would claim her. Like I said she was an expert at social distancing. No one wanted her. And it hurt. A lot.

It wasn’t that she didn’t try to make things right. Her story is found in Mark 5 and in verse 26 we read, “She had suffered a great deal from many doctors, and over the years she had spent everything she had to pay them, but she had gotten no better. In fact, she had gotten worse.” She so craved an end to this nightmare of loneliness and illness. Her body was worn down by the blood loss and her spirit was worn down by the rejection. She had seen every physician, but the only result was a depleted bank account and a worsening condition. She was at the end. And that is where she found Jesus.

We are not told how she came to know of Jesus, but it was probably word of mouth. Someone said and someone repeated, “Jesus heals people. Jesus touches people…even unworthy people. Jesus accepts people…even people that no one else wants.” She heard a crowd. She saw a crowd and at the middle of this crowd was her only hope.

She weaved her way to the center trying to conceal her face because if they knew who she was, she would quickly be pushed aside. She believed that if she could just touch His robe, she could–she would be healed. Finally, she saw His back and stumbling she touched His robe. Immediately she knew it. Immediately she felt it–it was done. It was over. She was healed.

Jesus knew it too. He felt power leave His body and He asked the crowd, “Who touched me?” The disciples, perhaps with a smile, said, “Lord, you see the crowd. What do you mean who touched you?” But Jesus knew what they didn’t. Someone’s life was changed, and it was her. She, so used to rebuke and rejection, came trembling and confessed, “It was me.” Before she could apologize or explain, He said it.

In verse 34, Jesus says, “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace. Your suffering is over.” What did He say? Daughter? She had been called unworthy, unclean, unwanted, but “Daughter?” That was a name she had never heard. And He declared an end to her war with suffering. She was made whole. She was accepted. She was clean. Amazing.

It all happened because of a five-letter word. Faith. She believed. Let’s be careful here. She didn’t just believe, she believed in Jesus. It wasn’t just faith, it was faith in Him. You see when we believe there can be hope. But when we choose to believe in Jesus there is healing, there is life, there is rescue.

They parted ways then. There was a twelve-year-old girl who needed to be raised from the dead. She needed her own miracle. But for this woman, life was never the same. Maybe she went home. Maybe she went to the market. Maybe she went to the temple. It doesn’t matter where she went, the stigma was gone. She was no longer called unclean, no longer called unworthy, no longer called unwanted. She had a new name. It was “daughter.”

So how about you? Does this story resonate within you? Are her names… your names? Is her pain …your pain? Why not fight the crowd, break your spiritual social distancing, your isolation, and come to Jesus? And, like her, why not believe? Have the courage to believe that you will find healing and rest in Him. After all, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

 “The Lord is righteous in everything He does; He is filled with kindness.” Psalm 145:17

I almost missed it.  A long time ago and in a galaxy far, far away I wrote a Grits story about my ongoing “concern” with sticking a contact in my eye.  If you remember, and I realize you probably don’t, I only wear one contact and it makes it possible for me to read without having to wear readers. It’s quite amazing how the brain somehow makes it work.  Anyway, the only problem is that I just don’t do very well sticking my finger in or close to my eye. It took me just about a year to figure out how to do it and I still have some anxiety each time I do it.  I’ve gotten better…but.

Well, one morning was one of those “buts.” I have a ritual that I go through each and every morning to prepare for sticking this thing in my eye.  I put on my readers and get the juice that I use to wet the contact and my fingers. The contacts come in a stick of five and I always, and I mean always, break a contact off the left side.  Don’t ask me why. On that morning, I got the juice, glasses and contact all set up for the big event. I opened the contact, wet my fingers, put the contact on my finger and prepared to stick it in. It went south.

As I put it in I could tell something was wrong and the something was wherever the contact was, it wasn’t where it should have been. That could only mean it was lost somewhere—either in my eye or on the sink. Well, it wasn’t on the sink which meant—I was in deep weeds.  So, I got angry.  I’m not proud of it but I did. I was running late and didn’t have time to worry about this catastrophe. My eye doctor had retired so she couldn’t rescue me and as hard as Judy and I had tried in times past…our success rate was pretty low. So I just told God, out loud, that I didn’t have time for this. I threw the contact holder thing in the trash and got in the shower…still mad.

Well, I have this test I do to see if my contact is in or out. When I tried to see at the sink, it obviously was not in the right place in my eye.  So, I tried again in the shower and…I could see. I looked again and again, very obviously the contact had found its way home to the center of my eye.  Now it wasn’t totally happy, but it was where it belonged. After my shower, I went ahead and got the contact out, yay and put in a fresh one that went in perfectly. I was amazed and very grateful. There is no doubt that my Dearest Daddy had once again acted on my behalf.

I guess, in the loosest of terms you could say that my cry of anger and anguish was a prayer, “God, I don’t need this right now.” And in His grace, He agreed. There might be a time when it would have stayed lost but today, He acted on my behalf and took care of the problem.  You probably ought to know the kind of contact I wear is changed daily and it is very flimsy and when it gets lost—it stays lost. I cannot think of one time when it found its own way home…that is…except on that special day.

What He did was just so kind.  His Word says, “The Lord is righteous in everything He does; He is filled with kindness.”  All I can say is, “Amen.” As I was driving home for lunch, I decided that I hadn’t celebrated the faithfulness of my Dearest Daddy in a big enough way. This was a big deal. I needed to pause and thank Him again. It was the right thing to do.

I couldn’t think of a better way to say thank you then to write about it in Grits. As I stared at my computer screen, and it is crystal clear, I was reminded that I serve a God who can handle the big things and the not so big things. I was reminded that I serve a God that hears even a prayer sputtered and uttered in frustration and, yes, anger.  I serve a God who cares enough to whisper a sweet, short answer to those prayers,  “Don’t worry son, I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

 “The Lord God is my strength, and He has made my feet like hinds’ feet, and makes me walk on my high places.” Habakkuk 3:19

Ok…it just hurt. I grew up down South and there and especially then things were just a bit different.  Back in those days before Nintendo and Game Boys, we played…I mean we just played.  Even though we had television, and yes, it was black and white,  it was rarely on…especially during the day.  When school was over for the day, we would go outside and run the neighborhood and…the woods.

We lived in a small country neighborhood that was surrounded by woods.  We played army, built forts, and played every game you could imagine.  We had a large Chinaberry tree in our backyard, and we would load our pockets with the small berries and then chase one another trying our best to “ping” someone with the berries. As you can imagine we ran…a lot. And the best running shoes then were no shoes at all.  We ran and played barefoot most of the time.  There were times of regret, like when we would stub our toe on a big old pine root, but most of the time we did just fine.  Of course, all that “barefoot-ness” toughened our feet up till the soles were leather tough.

Well, things change, and we all grew up and started wearing shoes.  With the shoes, we lost our toughness but not our love to occasionally go barefoot.  There’s still just something about the feel of grass and soft sand on the bottom of your foot.  Yup…what good memories…that is until I stepped on a stupid rock. It all started when I went outside early in the morning, as in the sun was still yawning, to have a cup of coffee with Judy.  Of course, I wasn’t wearing shoes.  We have a paved driveway and patio so no deal…right? Not so fast.

I walked out to the patio, visited awhile, and then decided it was time to head back into the house to get ready for the day.  Our patio is a foot or so higher than our driveway and we have a small step there to make things easier.  So, I stepped down onto the step and then on down to the driveway.  Not thinking, nor thinking to look, right where I stepped was a nice, small rock.  Now this wasn’t the smooth stone kind of rock but the kind that you find in an unpaved alley.  Anyway, I stepped, and stepped hard and landed right on that stinking rock.  Ouch.

As things would happen, it was in the middle of my heel, and it just hurt.  I muttered something about stupid rocks, picked the rock up and chucked it back in the alley where it belonged.  It really was a “no harm, no foul” deal.  I mean, it wasn’t like it hurt all day and it wasn’t like I had to go to the doctor, but for those few moments…it just hurt and for those few moments…I was mad at the rock. Mad.At.The.Rock.

Wait…later I decided there was something wrong with that.  I am sure that rock didn’t wake up that morning (do rocks wakeup?) and decide to be in the exact wrong spot.  In fact, I am sure the rock had nothing to do with it at all. I am sure that I am the one who chose not to wear shoes that morning, who didn’t look to see if there was a rock in the way, and who wasted my emotional energy by getting mad at a rock.  It sounds like this one is on me.

The bottom line is when you do life, you will occasionally step on a rock and it may cause some pain.  But like the Disney song says, maybe we should just, “let it go.” The Bible gives us some even greater counsel.  It says that we are to remember that God is our strength, and we should ask Him to guide our feet as sure as a mountain deer.  In other words…to help us watch where we step…whether it is off our patio or into a questionable decision. 

Well, I know, and you know it wasn’t the rock’s fault that day and really, in the scope of things, it wasn’t mine either. It was just one of those things.  Oh, and this morning, I went out barefoot again but before I stepped off the patio, I looked and that means, I may have learned and that is always valuable.  So be sure and look before you step and remember, even if things don’t go exactly like you plan today…He’s still got this. Bro. Dewayne

Oh wait…I thought that was the end of the story but it wasn’t.  So, the same day I wrote this, at lunch I went home to eat and kicked my shoes off.  As I was walking across the kitchen floor I stepped on a…get ready…rock.  Yup, right there in the kitchen.  I guess you just never know.

“Once you were alienated and hostile in your minds expressed in your evil actions. But now He has reconciled you by His physical body through His death, to present you holy, faultless, and blameless before Him.” (Colossians 1:21-22)

It was a moment I will probably never forget.  My wife and I love adventures.  We look for ways to do things on a limited budget and we’ve actually gotten pretty good at it.  A few years back we discovered we could take a train from Carbondale to Chicago, stay downtown at a nice hotel for a couple of nights and enjoy whatever was happening around us…all on a shoestring budget. We would usually go around Memorial Day or the Fourth of July.  It was pretty awesome.

Several years ago we went the week of the 4th.  We grabbed a very nice hotel room and managed to snag a room that literally faced the fireworks display.  It was awesome.  At Millennium Park they have these incredible free outdoor concerts.  Thousands of people from all walks of life gather on the large lawn to listen.  Because it is the 4th, they share a lot of patriotic music. They usually have a section where they honor the veterans by asking them to stand when the theme for their branch of the service is played.

I am a veteran.  I served in the United States Air Force for 12 years and it was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. And that’s the problem.  You see, because it was so rewarding, I always felt awkward standing to be honored because I felt like I received so much more than I gave.  So that night, I knew that part of the concert was coming, and I was dreading it.  I knew that Judy would urge me to stand, I would say no, and she would give me the look.  Again.  But that night, for some reason, something changed.

It was time.  The stirring songs from each branch of the service began playing.  Soon, the Air Force theme was playing.  I looked at Judy and said, “I’m going to stand just for you.”  As I stood something happened.  First, I saw others standing that had served in the Air Force and I felt community…I stopped feeling apart and instead felt a part—a part of the family.  But what happened next was amazing.

There was a mother with a couple of young boys sitting about eight or ten feet from me.  The younger of her sons, probably seven or eight, looked at me and said this, “Mom, is he a hero?”  And I watched and listened as she said, “Yes.  He served our country so that we can be free.”  Then she turned to me and mouthed the words, “Thank you for serving.” Well, that was the highlight of the trip for me, and it was the day an unexplainable wall fell.

I am certain that I do not deserve the title hero.  The men and women with crosses over their graves in all the national cemeteries deserve that.  The warriors who came back from the various wars and conflicts bearing the physical and emotional scars of war deserve that.  But the one thing that I realized that night was that we should be thankful for our freedom.  We can and should honor each person who served for their willingness and sacrifice.

I’m still shy about standing at Veteran’s Day events.  I still feel awkward at concerts when veterans are asked to stand.  But it’s not because I’m ashamed to say I served. No, it is because I received more than I could ever give back.  I was privileged to wear the uniform of my country.  And that is pretty awesome.  But wait. There’s more.

As I write this story another one is stirring in my heart.  It flashed in my mind that this isn’t the only time, the only circumstance, that makes me feel this way.  It is also my faith in God.  That day when I followed Christ, I also received more than I could ever give back. That day I was welcomed into the family of a God who loved me enough to give His Son to a Roman cross.  Paul in the Bible tells us that we went from being alienated and hostile toward God to being able to call Him Father. Jesus caused my billion failures to disappear so He could present me faultless and blameless to His Father.

We all need heroes.  This Memorial Day would you take the time to remember those who bled and died that we could be free?  Would you take your kids to the cemetery for your community’s Memorial Day service?  I hope that you will.  But I also hope you will pause and thank the Hero of Heaven for sacrificing His life so that people like you and me can be truly free.  And finally, next time you have the opportunity to stand not as a hero but because of the One, stand proudly and thank Him.  Thank Him that you can rest in Him.  Thank Him because He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

 “For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 6:23

I was shocked. Most of us are familiar with the term “sticker shock.” That normally applies to cars. You know when we finally decide it is time to shop around for a new vehicle. The air is filled with excitement at the prospect of something new sitting in our driveway. We can feel the neighbor’s admiring smile as they drive by our driveway and admire our new wheels. We can’t wait until we can go to the dealer. There is the car of our dreams. We stop, get out and look and then we see the sticker price and then quickly our dream becomes a nightmare. We quickly get back into our car before we can be accosted by the salesman. We know he is bent on convincing us we can afford the car which is worth just about half the value of our house. Sigh and then sigh some more.

Sticker shock chapter two.  Sometimes it doesn’t take a visit to the auto dealer to experience sticker shock. Sometimes it can be right there in our email inbox.  Just last week I was going through my emails to sort out things I need and things I don’t. I like a nice and neat inbox.  So, I receive several “good deal” emails and occasionally I find some very good deals. Today was not one of those days—but something did catch my eye.

The top of the email advertised a bunch of deals from Amazon—up to 85% off. Well, I learned a long time ago that “up to” doesn’t mean a thing in advertising but still it was intriguing.  I took a look, and something caught my eye—not because it was such a good deal, but because it was a sticker shocker. Amazon was proud to announce that you could buy six regular size Hershey bars for…get ready…hang one…recharge your pacemaker…$5.38.  The regular price was $7.10. I was shocked.

My problem was twofold. First, I guess I don’t buy many candy bars, so I was unaware that candy bars and gold were on the same level these days! Someone reading this will probably think, “Where has this guy been?” Well, apparently on another planet…and that leads to problem two. You see, when I was growing up, and I acknowledge that was a few years ago, I can remember going to the store with my Daddy.  On special occasions he would splurge and buy a six pack of Snicker bars. I suppose it was always Snickers because that was his favorite.  The price was a whopping 49 cents…not for one but for six.

No, I am not stuck in the sixties but the last time I checked candy prices I thought it was like 69 cents…and for the record I thought that was too high.  As you can imagine I had candy bar sticker shock on steroids. The bottom line is everything is going up and everything costs more than it used to so I guess we might as well get used to it.

Of course, there is one thing that is immune from inflation and that is God’s gift of eternal life. Over the centuries it has never gone up…and it never will. You see, when God sent His Son to earth and when His Son willingly died on that Roman cross the price was paid in full. Anyone willing to ask can have the gift free of charge. Imagine all your sins forgiven and wiped away and a forever home in heaven. Oh and did I mention a new Best Friend who will never leave you or forsake you?

I may be shocked about this extravagant gift but not because of sticker shock…but because of love shock. How could the God who made it all pay it all for a world of people who are all unworthy.  And that is the amazing thing.  Because He is God. So, no matter how long your sin list, I hope you will trust and believe and take God up on His amazing offer.  Trust me…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

 “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