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

My Friend Charlie

A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength. Proverbs 17:22

Say “Charlie” and some people think “Brown” but not me. I have a friend named Charlie, and he made life fun. Over the years, I’ve encountered a kaleidoscope of people, each contributing to life’s vibrant display. As I reminisce about this, my memories often drift back to Charlie.

Our paths crossed when I became the pastor of Cobden First Baptist Church in Southern Illinois. Those 14 years in Cobden were an incredible chapter of our lives, and leaving was no easy feat. The relationships and friendships we built there, especially among the families raising kids, created a vibrant and enjoyable community. If church is about fostering community, we certainly had it. Imperfect but deeply connected, we loved our way through the bumps.

Charlie and I hit it off from the start. One of our initial adventures involved him giving me a tour of the community, highlighting where different members lived and, more importantly, where people who hadn’t encountered Jesus resided. Charlie had a heart for both Jesus and people. Our families bonded quickly, and naturally, food became a significant part of our friendship. Charlie and his wife Cheryl welcomed us with a Dixie BBQ supper, instantly making it a cherished spot. Thank you, Charlie, and Cheryl, for that warm welcome.

Charlie was a practical joker extraordinaire. At a deacons’ Christmas party, held in an old mansion by the Ohio River, we expressly requested the bar to remain closed. However, during the festivities, our server presented me with an ice-cold Budweiser. Charlie had orchestrated the prank, and laughter ensued.

On another occasion, Charlie decided to up the ante. During a sermon, as I prayed with heads bowed, I opened my eyes to find the congregation holding up newspapers, obscuring their faces. Instead of friendly faces, I saw last week’s headlines. It was a hilarious moment that left us laughing until it hurt.

But there was a time when Charlie pushed the boundaries. During a post-church fellowship, he pied me in the face with a large vanilla cream pie. While I found it amusing, not everyone did—especially Charlie’s mom, Veda, who thought it was disrespectful. It took a while for Charlie to get out of the doghouse, but at least we salvaged some of the pie.

Those were just a few snapshots of the precious memories I share with Charlie. His smiling face is etched in my mind, a reminder of the joy he brought to those Cobden years. People like him made church feel like a community, filled with laughter and shared moments. I believe church should be fun, and Jesus, despite our challenges in picturing it, must have smiled and laughed. How could one brim with so much joy and not express it?

Yes, there’s a time to be serious, but there’s also a time to laugh, and we should embrace both. A sour expression doesn’t equate to spirituality; it might just mean you’re a tad sour. Proverbs 17:22 wisely notes, “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength.” So, when things go wacky and life gets crossways, let’s not forget to laugh. Always be grateful for a God with a sense of humor—after all, He created you and me. Smile, and remember, no matter what—He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, thankful, wisdom

Faith and the Next Step

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” Hebrews 11:1 (NIV)

There’s hard…and there is really hard.  You know, sometimes faith is easy.  The way is clear, the path is obvious and you just do it.  Sometimes, it just isn’t that way.  Sometimes, all the time, faith requires…faith. So back in 2000, my family and I were living in Cobden where I was pastoring at Cobden First Baptist.  We had been there over 14 years and it was one of those pastor/church relationships that don’t happen too often.  We were in love with each other.  It wasn’t a job…it was family. And then the phone rang.

It was a call from Don Billman wanting to know if I would be interested in pastoring in Harrisburg at Dorrisville Baptist.  I had received calls like this before and the answer was always, “No thank you.  We are really happy here.”  This time, though, for some reason I said I would think about it—pray about it.  It was almost frightening but I could hear the Whisperer whispering and I was pretty sure He was calling us to step out on faith. I tried to dismiss it, I tried to ignore it, but He kept whispering until I finally knew that it was a choice to obey or disobey.

After several weeks we arranged a date to go and preach a message, meet the folks at Dorrisville and to see if we should join our lives together.  I had asked God for a pretty big favor.  If this was in fact His will would He give me a 100% vote.  Now in case you don’t know that was a pretty big deal, especially since we were talking about a couple of hundred people.  Well, we met each other and they voted.  It was 100%.  I was taken aback as I realized it was time to step out on faith.

Pastors usually leave churches in one of two ways: readily or reluctantly.  I was a reluctant prophet.  I knew going was the right thing, but it wasn’t the easy thing.  It was probably one of the HARDEST things I have ever done.  We were excited about Dorrisville, but I knew I was leaving family in the process.  Were there doubts? Yes.  Were there assurances?  Yes. And that is the point of this story.

A week or so after the vote and in the middle of the process of saying goodbye to Cobden, I was sitting outside of Target in Marion.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  I was having a talk with God that included two questions.  “God, is this really you?” “God, what have I done?”  There I sat with those two questions rolling around in my head.  And then they showed up.  It wasn’t two angels named Micheal or Gabriel but it was a couple of messengers from my Dearest Daddy.  Their names were Tom and Leanne.

Tom and Leanne were members at Dorrisville—my new family.  They walked up to the bench outside of Target and politely introduced themselves.  “Hi we are Tom and LeAnne. We are members at Dorrisville and when we saw you sitting here we just HAD to stop and tell you how glad we are that you are coming to Dorrisville.  We can’t wait for you to come.”  I can’t tell you the emotion of that moment.  It was a clear and confident assurance from the Whisperer.  From that moment on I knew I was right where God wanted me and that was what mattered.

So we finished saying goodbye to our Cobden family and said hello to our new family at Dorrisville.  On July 16, 2000 we had our first service there.  I wish I could tell you how marvelously I led and how confidently I took the field but the truth is this rookie fumbled the ball a few times.  But gratefully my new family was gracious and patient and suddenly here we are twenty years later.  It has been a wonderful journey for me of learning and growing, serving, and sharing.  Over the past two decades we have had so many times of celebration together.  We have learned grace together. Someday, one day, the Whisperer will whisper again but until that time I am having the time of my life.

So if you find yourself at the edge of a cliff and you are not sure what to do next.  If all the light is gone from your world and you are stuck…go ahead and take the next step.  As Patrick Overton wrote, “When you have come to the edge of all light that you know and are about to drop off into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing one of two things will happen: There will be something solid to stand on or you will be taught to fly.” Whether it is the uncertainly of the corona virus, the unrest of our Country or the upcoming elections this Fall…we can rest in Him…for He surely has this.