Posted in food, food, life, money, Scripture, spring, watermelon

Green Gold

 “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” Romans 10:13

There it was…green gold.  Well, it isn’t news to hardly anyone but inflation is here and it is quite healthy.  I don’t go to the store, especially the grocery store, too often.  I suppose that helps feed (no pun intended) the sticker shock when I do.  I’ve lived way long enough to enjoy telling my grandchildren and those significantly younger than me about “the good old days.”  And if inflation is good for nothing else, it sure gives me more fodder for my “good old days” stories.

My wife Judy and I are both from the south and like many Southerners, we are fans of things southern, especially food.  Enter, stage right, watermelon.  Both of us are big fans of watermelon but my wife is president of the watermelon fan club.  The only thing I have never understood is her need to baptize her watermelon with salt.  It just doesn’t make sense.  Well, even this early in the year, it wouldn’t surprise me if she went to the store and came home with a watermelon.  One time she went and discovered something that made even eggs seem reasonable.

So she got to the store, not looking for a watermelon but since the produce department is at the entrance, she wandered through.  And, there they sat…watermelons.  The store had a whole big bin of them…there for the taking.  And then she saw the price.  These small, round watermelons, from Mexico mind you, were there for the taking for…wait for it…just about ten dollars each. What? You’re kidding, right?  Nope.  And just in case you don’t live in a watermelon world, a year ago a high price would have been less than half that.

She sent a picture of the bin of green gold to the family group text, and we all groaned and moaned.  Later that night she also shared that four, count them, four ears of sweet corn were over four dollars…more than a dollar an ear.  And the hard news is if Judy loves watermelon…she craves sweet corn.  What in the world is going on?  And I thought people hoarding toilet tissue during COVID was weird.

You see, when I was a kid, watermelons had seeds and were the shape and size of the Goodyear blimp.  These monsters often weighed twenty or more pounds, were always sweet as honey and cost fifty cents.  Slowly, over time, they shrank and a really sweet one is like finding a needle in a haystack.  Corn, not too terribly long ago would set you back a couple of dollars for a dozen—not two ears. What in the world is going on?

Well, the code words for today are inflation and the supply chain. Then add to that the price of fuel, the state of world politics and Bigfoot.  Well, no one has mentioned Bigfoot yet, but I’m sure it figures in there somewhere.  Prices are in such a flux that sticker shock and the potential for higher prices tomorrow dominate too much of our time and energy.  If only there was something that hasn’t gone up.  There is.

I am glad to report that God has not raised His prices.  He still offers eternal life to anyone who believes for the grand total of…zero.  How is that possible? When He came up with the plan to let us become part of His family, He paid the entire bill—and what a bill it was.  It involved His Son being nailed to a cross and dying for the sins of the whole, entire, world. Every man, woman or child who believes and asks receives a clean bill (no pun intended) of spiritual health.   Every sin, no matter what, is forgiven.  It has been that way since the first Christmas and Easter, and it will stay that way.  He is not going to raise the rate.

You won’t find a better deal no matter how far and wide you look. Someone said heaven isn’t about doing…it is about done.  It is not about keeping a bunch of rules…it is about a relationship with the One who made us all. So, if you are shopping for some hope, if you are in the market for a new beginning, you need to start right there.  I bought in (no pun intended) a long time ago and it was the best decision of my life, and it will be the best decision of your life too.  Paul, the guy who wrote a chunk of the New Testament, wrote that anyone, a.n.y.o.n.e., who asks will be forgiven.  What a deal.

Well, I’m not sure what is going to happen with me and Judy and our watermelon habit.  I’m not sure what she will do about sweet corn gold either, but I do know this.  No matter what, my Father, the One who creates watermelons and sweet corn, has it covered.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Integrity, life, pride, school days, Scripture

Patrol Boy

 “But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance or his stature because I have rejected him. Humans do not see what the Lord sees, for humans see what is visible, but the Lord sees the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7

 It was a dream come true.  Growing up when I did was a blast.  I was born in 1954 (and yes, that was a long time ago) and things were just different.  Life was slower, people mattered more, things mattered less, and respect was a big deal.  I was raised to call people older than me, sir and ma’am.  It’s kinda humorous, but now I am the senior adult and I still call everybody and their brother, “sir or ma’am.”  It was just ingrained in me from my earliest memories.

Back in those days, when you were in the sixth grade you were the king of the mountain.  You see in Florida in the early sixties elementary school went from first thru sixth grade.  There was no kindergarten.  Part of being the king of the mountain was the prospect of being selected to be a “patrol boy.”  Now, the first thing you need to know is the term “patrol boy” was a term of respect.  Today I think they still have crossing guards but back then…patrol boys were the state police of the day.  They had a belt with a badge that went around their waist and over their shoulder and of course, the flag.  It was a two-piece design that was about five foot long when put together.  Oh, I almost forgot.  They had a safety helmet too.  They definitely looked the part.

At the end of each school day, these brave traffic warriors would be dismissed from class a little early to go and man their assigned post. They would put on their belt and helmet, grab their flag, and head out for duty.  Now this was the real deal.  A teacher or aide didn’t accompany them.  The lives of their peers were in their hands—and they were granted authority to stop traffic.  Again, it was an honor and a dream to get that belt, badge, helmet, and flag.  The selection process was done at the end of the school year of our fifth grade.  I’m not sure what the criteria was, but I do know not everyone got selected.

Ok, let’s be honest.  I wanted…I really wanted to be a patrol boy.  It was like I was born for it.  It was my destiny.  I could tell you that I wanted to help save lives.  I could tell you that the safety of every kid who crossed at my post was what drove me but that wouldn’t be true.  No, I’m afraid it wasn’t quite that noble.  I’m afraid it had nothing to do with safety…it had to do with…the belt, the badge, the helmet, and the flag.  Now don’t laugh, it was a big deal. The uniform has led a lot of guys to sign up for the Marines.  I was no different.  I wanted people to look at me and say, “There goes a patrol boy.  Leader of peers and a hero to boot.”

Well, it happened.  I was selected and honestly, it was just about everything I thought it was going to be—at least through my eyes.  No one ever called me a hero, nor did I outright save anyone’s life, but there was something about the way it made me…feel. Looking back, I think there is a word for it…pride.  You know there is a good pride…the kind that lets you know you did your best.  There is also the kind that says, “I’’m a patrol boy and you’re not.”  It’s closely related to the kind that says, “I have power and you don’t. You have to listen to me…obey me.”  Bummer.

As far as I know, at least from the outside, I did a pretty good job.  I received and proudly wore my little pin, which I got to keep at the end of the year that marked my service.  No one got ran over on my watch and I think I only got in trouble once.  That happened when one of my fellow patrol boys, a friend no less, made me mad and I whacked him with my flag.  It certainly wasn’t very hero like and trust me it wasn’t as pretty.  Something on the inside—that should have stayed on the inside—oozed out. I realize now that all of us have a tendency to play that game—pretty good on the outside and pretty dingy on the inside.  Someone once said you can fool some of the people some of the time, but you can’t fool all the people all of the time.

There should be another saying that says, “You can’t fool God any of the time.”  You see, God’s got this “vision thing” that allows Him to see right past the skin and right into our heart.  He sees our real thoughts, our real motives, our real selves.  It’s been kind of a “go to” verse for me recently but here’s what it says, “The Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at Eliab’s appearance or stature because I have rejected him. Humans do not see what the Lord sees, for humans see what is visible, but the Lord sees the heart.” Wow…that is one scary thought.  God sees what matters.  We need to remember that.

Well, I enjoyed my year as a patrol boy.  The next year I went to junior high and went from the top of the heap to the bottom.  In fact, there were a couple of guys who did their best to make junior high hard for me.  Today we call it bullying.  I wonder if it was payback for some misused authority.  Hmmmm.  What goes around…comes around.  Anyway, I’m glad I don’t have just a “patrol boy” watching over me.  Nope, I have the King of Kings and that’s pretty awesome!  I don’t have a thing to worry about because “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in communication, Family, gratitude, prayer, pride, Scripture, thankful

Prayer and Animal Crackers

 “When you pray, don’t babble like the Gentiles, since they imagine they’ll be heard for their many words. Don’t be like them, because your Father knows the things you need before you ask Him.” Matthew 6:7-8

 Prayers can be like a box of animal crackers. I suppose you remember way back when we could go to the store and buy a box of animal crackers.  They might still make them today but even if they do…they probably aren’t the same.  Back then, the colors on the outside of the box were so rich and vivid and of course there was a small piece of fabric that served as a handle.  You opened the box and I remember two things specifically.  First, the little cookies actually looked like animals and second, they were genuinely good. Of course, the box was full and consisted of more than a few different animals.

Well, if you think about it, that box of animal crackers is like some of the prayers I have heard in church.  When I was a kid I never figured out how you got to be selected to pray in church. I figured surely there was some sort of selection committee, but if there was they sure had a variety of tastes.  The prayers were as varied as the animals in the box of crackers.  Sometimes they were long…too long.  Those were the people that forgot the part in the Bible where Jesus said He didn’t care how many words were said in a prayer.  I remember a man that if he got the call to pray, you might as well kiss lunch goodbye.

I can remember another guy who I am sure sounded just like God.  His voice was deep and his cadence would be slow. So, I grew up believing that God when He talked, had this really deep voice with each word carefully spaced and pronounced in each sentence.  I’m not sure how effective he was as far as God hearing his prayer but it was impressive…at least to me.  Oh, and of course, some people I am certain made the cut because of the number of big words they knew. I can remember listening to their prayers and wondering what in the world they were saying.  I guess in the long run it didn’t matter because they weren’t talking to me anyway.

Yup, when I was growing up prayers were just like animal crackers and I guess in some ways they still are today. Usually, though, they are a little more generic.  There are certain words like “Heavenly Father” and “lead, guide and direct,” oh and “for our good and Your glory” that find their way into a lot of prayers. I know I’ve got my words too.  Recently at church one of our students prayed and well, I liked it a lot.  It was simple, it was to the point and I believe it was from his heart.  Now that is a good prayer.

When I was a kid we had this prayer that we prayed at dinner.  It, too, was simple and to the point.  You’ve probably prayed it before yourself.  It went something like this, “God is great, God is good, let us thank Him for our food.”  Now some variations went on to say, “By His hands, we are fed. Give us Lord our daily bread.”  Whether it was the longer or the shorter…it was a good prayer.  God is indeed great.  We should not only acknowledge that, but we should believe and live that.  Oh, and indeed God is good. I always like it when I am reminded that not only does God do good…He is good…and every good thing comes down from Him. 

And we mustn’t forget the last of the triplet—let us thank Him for our food.  Did you know that He not only gives us food to eat, He gives us everything else too?  The Bible tells us in Psalm 24:1 that everything belongs to the Lord…the stars, the earth and everything else on the earth. And it also reminds us that since He owns it all we should be grateful that He has decided to share with us.  So it only makes sense that we should remember to thank Him for our food and everything else.  I mean even the air that we breathe was made by Him and we should thank Him for that too.

So, the next time you are in church, you might remember this short story about animal crackers and prayer.  I hope you will remember that each prayer is different and that is more than ok. I hope you will remember that it isn’t how long or short, how big the words are or what the person’s voice sounds like that matters.  What matters is that our heart is focused on Him and whether we are praying or listening to be sure and give our all to Him for those sacred moments. After all, He is great God and He is good and always…He’s got this! Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, gratitude, life, Scripture, thankful

Family…Working Together

 “How delightfully good when brothers live together in harmony!” Psalm 133:1

I’m not sure how it happened…but it did.  I’ve said it several times, but growing up we were not the richest family on the block…at least if the measurement was money in the bank.  I’m still amazed how my Daddy and Momma pulled off raising us and providing so richly for us.  And I mean that.  While we weren’t rich in terms of money, we were blessed with a good, solid, salt of the earth family. And we were blessed with two parents who were creative enough to make it all work.  And that is the keystone word…work.

Daddy was the kind of Daddy who got up and went to work…every day.  He would carpool out to Jacksonville Naval Air Station and put in a solid eight hours in a jet engine shop that didn’t have the luxury of air conditioning.  Keep in mind this is in North Florida…home of humidity and sweat.  After work, he would often come and work some more.  Daddy was a worker.  Momma was too.  She kept the Taylor ship shipshape…washing clothes, cleaning the house, cooking, and doing about a thousand other jobs.  While she was mainly a homemaker, she did occasionally take on outside work to help the budget.  Sometimes that was a traditional job—and sometimes it wasn’t.  This time it wasn’t.

I suppose she read it in the paper or heard it on the radio or saw it on television.  However, it happened, I just remember, it did.  The phone company was looking for people who would deliver phone books (remember them?) to all the people who had phones—and that was just about everyone. So, Momma signed us up—notice that us—and we soon found ourselves in the delivery business.  You need to know that not only did everyone have a phone and therefore they needed a phone book…there were a WHOLE lot of someone’s.  Oh, and when you have a big city with a lot of someone’s, you have a very fat, very heavy, phone book.

So, on day one of the big adventure, we went to the pick-up place and picked up a zillion phone books.  Our vehicle at that time wasn’t a pickup truck or even a station wagon.  Our car was six or seven year old Plymouth four-door sedan and we stuffed that poor car to the gills with phone books. The trunk was full, the back seat was full, the floorboard was full and even the front was full.  To this day I can remember that Plymouth squatting down in the back till it almost dragged the road.  So, with Momma at the wheel and us three little ones wedged in somewhere, we started delivering books.  Momma would start down a street, and we would jump out (or maybe fall out) of the car, grab an arm full of books and start dropping them at people’s homes.  Again, most people had a phone, but I am sure that some people who didn’t still got a book.  We soon figured out the sooner the books were gone, the sooner we could go home.  And sooner was definitely better than later.

It was crazy hard work and as best as I can remember the money went to help the family.  It was family helping family and that was a good thing.  It seems we did this more than one time but maybe not. But what I do know is I treasure that special memory that I have of Momma and us working together—adventuring together.  I am sure we looked like Ma Kettle and her kids but who cared?  I know we didn’t.  Sadly, stories like this one are slow disappearing.  Families working together and working it out together are giving way to lives too busy to be families.  It has been said that the family that prays together, stays together.  I also think it can be said that the family that works together, strains together, pulls together, “adventures” together…stays together too.

Way back in the book of Psalms, the Bible says, “How delightfully good when brothers live together in harmony!” I know that is speaking about people in general, but isn’t that what families are…ordinary people doing life together? I hope this encourages us in this busy world to be family and do life together…whether it is work or play…or worship.  And speaking of worship, there’s no better place to be family than at church.  And when you get there, listen carefully and you will hear His encouraging voice saying, “Don’t worry…I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, friends, life, prayer, pride, Scripture, sovereignty of God, spiritual battles

Happy New Year

 “God causes all things to work together for the good of those who love Him and who are called according to His purpose.”Romans 8:28

I slowly walked to the edge, paused, and…”. Well, it was a long time ago but most of the picture remains intact.  I was about nine years old, and our church Sunday School decided to have a picnic.  We loaded up on a bus or two and drove to the lake.  It was a natural freshwater lake with a beach and a dock.  And speaking of docks…this was a big one.  It left the shore and went out about a mile…well, it seemed like a mile…remember I was only nine.  In fact, it probably went out about fifty yards or so.  Then it made a 90 degree right turn and went on for another fifty yards.  By any standard it was a long dock.

However, it was what was at the end of the dock that caused me to pause.  There, built into the dock was the “Tower of Terror.”  Now for those of you who are familiar with Disney World you know that is the name for one of their attractions.  You are taken inside a building and end up in the dark (mostly) and then without warning…the floor gives way and you are falling for what seems like forever.  Now all this is speculation and hearsay for me because trust me I would never, will never find out personally. No. Not. Nada.  But that day when I was nine, I faced my own “Tower of Terror.”

The tower at the lake that day was probably thirty or forty feet in the air.  You climbed a ladder attached to the tower and at the top was a pretty good-sized platform.  This was where you could stand, look, and gather courage to walk to the edge and jump off.  Well, pushed by peer pressure and goaded by friends, I somehow found myself on the top and they were all saying one thing, “Jump!” Trust me, the last thing that I wanted to do was jump off that perfectly good tower.  I walked slowly to the edge and looked down.  The water seemed to be a zillion yards below me. There were only two options.  First, take the plunge or two, go back down the ladder.  With my heart pounding, with my peers all telling me to jump, I….

I honestly don’t remember what I did. I don’t know if I finally overcame my fear, swallowed my pride and jumped or swallowed my pride and slowly, with great humiliation, went back down the ladder.  Either one at the time felt unbearable and I know one thing even today…fear can paralyze you and fear can cause you to make some pretty crazy decisions.  Most of us personally know the truth in those words.

Well, today we find ourselves at the edge of another kind of platform…and for some, it might look like a “tower of terror.”  We are hours away from a New Year and honestly it can seem quite frightening…especially these days and with these circumstances. Considering all this, what should we do? What can we do?  Well, it seems logical to me that when I face something bigger than me, I need to find something or Someone bigger than the mountain, the obstacle that I am facing.  For me, hands down, that is God.  

There are two truths that I have found in God’s Word that really help me.  Maybe it will help you too.  First, is the sovereignty of God.  That simply means that God is in charge. I love the scripture that reminds me that every day is made by God…He is the owner and therefore the planner. It also means that He is in control…He.Is.In.Control. There is something peaceful in knowing that God is and if He is…well, worry shouldn’t rule us. But it gets better.

Not only does He make every day, He also makes us an incredible promise.  If you are a Bible person you probably know this one.  In the book of Romans, Chapter 8, it says, “God causes all things to work together for the good of those who love Him and who are called according to His purpose.”  Wow.  While that doesn’t mean that everything is good…we know that…it does mean that God can bring good from every circumstance.  What that also means is we have a promise from God that no matter how wonky 2025 may be, He can and will bring something good from it.  Now the truth of that should certainly bring some inner peace into the chaos of our lives.  

So, the bottom line is, “Happy New Year!” The God who makes the day makes the year and the God who makes the year manages the outcome.  Hey, sprinkling a little truth into a murky future can change a lot of things.  Now all of that isn’t a promise of easy but it is a promise of His faithfulness and that no matter what, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, Integrity, life, love, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful

Details

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, and see, the new has come!” 2 Corinthians 5:17

It is just engrained in me.  If you are a Grits reader, you might remember when I talked about my first car.  It was a 1961 Rambler painted (with a paintbrush) a royal blue with a yellow stripe right down the middle.  Due to its former home, Daytona Beach, it had more Bondo body filler than metal and its floorboards had also fallen victim to the salty air and water.  But I was so grateful to have it.  It was part trade and part gift from my oldest sister, and I loved it.  I would regularly wash it and clean the inside. Since it was the seventies, I bought flowery seat covers to hide the worn-out seats.  The bottom line—it was my baby.  A little scarred—more than a little worn out—but she was mine.

Since that first one, I have always tried to care for my cars.  A few were new and some were old, some were in good condition and others not. But each car received that same loving car.  They ranged from a 1971 Pinto with a rod knocking (something the Rambler shared) to a new 1985 Oldsmobile Cutlass Cruiser with wood grain sides.  My wife Judy and I bought that one on a whim because of a deal they were having on interest rates. It was also “on sale” because it had a 4.3-liter diesel engine which wasn’t popular.  I had no clue about diesel engines and was surprised to learn they didn’t even have spark plugs. What? One time I was looking at buying a used pickup truck that had a huge lift kit on it.  It was almost a monster truck.  The guy let me keep it overnight and what did I do? You bet, I washed it and cleaned it out.  I wanted to see what it would look like…and then I didn’t even buy it.  Strange.

I have a knack for cleaning cars.  I can make most cars look pretty good.  It is amazing what a good wash job, Windex, a strong vacuum, and some Armor All can do. Give me a couple of hours and Shazam—you have yourself a showroom classic.  Well, not really but it sounds good.  But they always looked better. Now somewhere beyond better is the next level and that is—a detailing.  In case you don’t know, when a car is detailed, the cleaner person pays attention to—get ready—the details.  Let me explain.

When I left the full-time pastorate for our next chapter, a friend gave me a gift certificate for my car to be detailed.  I was genuinely excited.  The day finally came to get our car detailed.  After I dropped it off at the detailing place, about four hours later I received a call that our car was done.  I couldn’t wait to pick it up—and I was not disappointed.  When I pulled up the detailer’s shop there she was and like Cinderella ready for the ball, our car was dazzling.

It had not only been washed but it was sporting a new wax job.  It glimmered in the noonday sun.  The tires and splash guard were all shiny black and the wheels sparkled like a person’s teeth after a whitening treatment.  I opened the door, and the entire interior was not only clean, but shining clean.  The floor mats were spotless. Yup—I was impressed.  I opened the trunk to find it spotless, and the space where the lid meets the body—a perfect place for dirt and grim to hide—clean.  When I bought gas a couple of days later, I noticed that even the area where you put fuel in had been cleaned.  Like I said, a good detailer will pay attention to the details…and she did.

Her name was Jo, and she has been detailing cars for over 35 years, so she has a lot of experience.  She knows how to make a car look new.  Speaking of new, that is why I am keen on God.  He can take the most bruised and broken life and not make it look new—but make it new.  I was reading the Bible one day and something that Paul, one of the New Testament writers, said caught my eye.  He wrote, “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, and see, the new has come!” You see God doesn’t do detailing…though He is a God of the details…He makes every person who puts their faith in His Son a brand-new creation.  I mean, imagine taking your car to get it detailed and picking it up four hours later only to find a brand-new car.  Wow and trust me, God’s work in the lives of people is an even bigger wow factor!

One time, a year or two ago, I hired a guy I didn’t know, to detail my car.  He talked big and way under delivered. I paid him too much money and let’s just say I was very disappointed. But after a 46-year journey with Jesus, I can tell you that He never disappoints, and He never misses a single detail.  So, hats off to Jo and thanks to that special friend who gave me the gift certificate. And remember, if you need your life made new, give Jesus a shout. His line is never busy, and you won’t get an answering machine.  He is online all the time and whatever the challenge, He’s up to it.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in communication, Family, food, friends, gratitude, life, loving others, school days, Scripture, thankful

Boom, Problem Solved

Command those who are rich in this present age not to be haughty, nor to trust in uncertain riches but in the living God, who gives us richly all things to enjoy.” 1 Timothy 6:13

I like coffee…a lot.  Coffee has been a best friend of the Taylor tribe for as long as I can remember.  I grew up with my Daddy’s words, “Dewayne, get me a cup of coffee” ringing in my ears.  One of my favorite memories of my parents is Daddy coming home about 4:00 pm and Momma having a fresh pot of coffee waiting.  She would pour up two cups and they would sit under the tree in the back yard and visit and drink coffee.  Now I am one of those coffee drinkers who likes their coffee bold and strong.  Someone said drinking weak coffee is like drinking brown dishwater.  I agree.

Now this is one area that my wife Judy and I don’t quite agree on.  She likes her coffee, well, mild.  You might say I like man coffee, and she likes lady coffee and that works because I am a man and she is a lady.  The only time that doesn’t work is when I am downstairs, and the only coffee is her lady coffee.  It is something called breakfast blend, and it is pretty mild. So, when I am downstairs, what am I to do?  Well, I stumbled on the answer awhile back.  Less.

That’s right…less.  You see we have one of those Keurig coffeemakers.  I know, I know…you purest coffee drinkers out there are probably gagging, but it is a good compromise for flavor and a fast cup of coffee.  One of the features of the Keurig is that you can easily adjust the amount of water in the cup.  You can set it on anywhere from four to twelve ounces.  So, if the coffee is a little on the lady side, well, I just set it to use less water.  Less water equates to stronger coffee.  Boom…problem solved.

You see, when it comes to how big the cup of coffee is, sometimes more water is just more.  The coffee may still look black (which is how I drink it) but the amount of water vastly affects the flavor.  More water equals less flavor.  And that is not only true in coffee (or tea I suppose…though I am not a hot tea drinker) it is true in life.  Sometimes we just think if we can pour in more of this or more of that we will be happier.  Often, we are not any happier…we are just a lot busier.  Often, we are not any happier…we are just further into debt.  Often, we are not any happier…we are just in greater need for a larger wardrobe.

Along with more is better (and often it is not) comes the thought that, “If I only had…” and in our “culture of much”, that is often thought and often believed.  Well, take it from someone who often looked for happiness at Best Buy or Target…it just isn’t so.  The thing that can make life worth living is not found in a store…it is found in the people we love most…that matter the most.  The thing that makes life worth living is not found in a store…it is found by looking to the Heavenly Father.  The fact is, He made all things for us to enjoy…yup, it’s in the Bible.  But keep in mind that He has given us nothing to worship.  That belongs to Him and Him alone.

Remember, you can adjust your coffee flavor in your Keurig with the amount of water you choose. If you like stronger coffee…more isn’t better…it’s just more.  And when it comes to life, learn to appreciate and love those around you.  Take the time to enjoy them.  In that case more is not only more…it is abundant. And when you need to add some richness to life, you’ll find no better source than God.  He loves you so much and wants you to experience life to the fullest.  In fact, He said, “I have come that you might have the life that is truly life.”  And to help you along the way, He will be right there beside you, ready to help, ready to assure, ready to let you know, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, school days, Scripture, Trials

Scars are Stories

When Jesus stood up, He said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” “No one, Lord,” she answered. “Neither do I condemn you,” said Jesus. “Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.” John 8:10-11

It’s a great setup.  I’ve written several times about my early morning routine. It involves coffee, the weather report and Jesus.  I am a creature of habit, when something messes with my habits, and it messes me up. But sometimes I do something a little different that just works better.  Last year I tripped and fell as I was going onto our patio and messed up my hand, my wife Judy donated a little lap desk to help me study and write.  Well, I liked it so much I bought one of my own. I also found out that this little desk made a great addition to my routine as it is a great place to put my iPad and my coffee cup. Boom.  Things just got better.

Well, one morning I was sipping coffee and using my iPad to read a couple of devotions.  The guy I was reading wrote about scars and as I was reading…I was looking.  You see, my hands have several scars, and each one is a story.  On my right thumb is one that reminds me of the ten-year-old (or so) Dewayne who was cutting watermelon and ignored his daddy’s advice about how to use a knife. On my middle finger of my right hand, right on the knuckle, is an inch long scar caused by my careless use of an X-Acto knife I was using to build a model car or plane.

Let’s look at my left hand.  On my index finger are two scars…close together.  One was when I was riding with my sister and her then boyfriend in his car.  The car in front of us stopped…and he didn’t.  This was before seatbelts and when I headed for the windshield, I threw my hand up to protect my head.  I guess it worked, but I did cut my hand up in the process. The other scar was a woodcutting thing.  I didn’t cut it with the saw, or you might be calling me “Three Fingers.”  No, a piece of wood that I was cutting was in a bind. It slipped and whacked my hand leaving a nasty gash.

There are a couple of smaller scars on both hands, but their birth didn’t garner a memory.  I do have a couple of scars in other places, like the one by my eye which happened on a racquetball court.  A guy hit me with his racket on that one.  But by and large most of my physical scars are on my hands because that is where all the action is.  In other words, whatever you put out there in life will probably get scarred…like our hearts.  All of us probably have some scars left when we put our heart out there and someone wounded us.  It’s just life.

But now for the bigger story.  Remember that scars may be a sign of a painful wound…but they are also a sign of healing.  The scars that are on my hands were bleeding and painful when they happened but gradually, the bleeding stopped, and they healed over. That’s a good thing.  Now you know and I know that wounds on our heart are a whole different animal.  They may heal but it often takes more than some antibiotic cream and a Band-Aid. They say that time heals all wounds and that might be partially true.  Time does help but time can’t always heal.  The good news is there is something…Someone…who can heal, and His name is Jesus.

My friend Jesus is a healer of hearts.  When He walked the earth, He amazed the people in many ways…twice He gave everyone a free lunch.  But countless times He would take the broken, the castaways and lovingly put their lives back together.  I love the story when a woman was caught in adultery.  The religious people wanted to stone her, but Jesus chose to love her.  I suppose in my life, and in yours, there have been some stoning opportunities but here is one thing I know.  Jesus isn’t a rock chucker—He is a heart healer, and He wants to help heal yours today.

So, how about it?  Do you have some wounds on your heart that time just hasn’t taken care of? Are you still hurting from a train wreck in life years ago?  Why not give Jesus the opportunity to help?  “How” you might ask?  Well, why not try asking?  It is called prayer and trust me it is worth a shot.  The other key element is faith—believing that He is there listening.  Don’t be surprised if one of the first things you hear is Him asking you to forgive. Why? Because forgiving others always helps heal our own wounds.  So, when you are done reading, why not start praying.  He is waiting and He is willing.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, school days, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, travel

Daily Reminders

“For this is how God loved the world: He gave His one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16

It was a great adventure.  I don’t know what your experiences with going to grandmother’s house were like…but mine, well, it really was a great adventure.  Granddaddy and Grandmother lived in Gainesville, Florida and we lived on the west side of Jacksonville.  And, more than occasionally, we would load up in our car and drive down to Grandmother’s house.  It’s funny…it was never Granddaddy’s house…it always seemed to belong to her.

When we got there, we have our time of greeting and then, usually, there would be work to be done…at least for Daddy and me and our domain was the yard.  Grandmother had some beautiful flowers and my Daddy loved flowers too. We would walk around the yard admiring the handiwork of our Creator and planning what needed to be done.  And, before long, we would get to work.  There was weeding, mowing, picking up debris left over from the last Florida “frog strangler rain” and a host of other chores.  Fortunately, it wasn’t an all-day deal because there were adventures waiting.

Grandmother’s house was located on a main street but in a quiet neighborhood.  From the large front porch, with large white rockers, you could sit and watch the traffic go by.  If you went out the back door, there was the quiet world of the garden.  Beside the house was one of those narrow side streets that you only travelled on if you knew it was there.  We went down that road and the blocks behind the house to collect coke bottles for the two-cent deposit.  Two cents meant two pieces of penny candy…what a bargain. Besides the bottles, there was another treasure trove that we visited every time we visited Grandmother.

I remember we would go into the backyard and there was a trail of sorts going through some woods.  At the other end of the trail, on the next block, sat a small warehouse.  Today I suppose you would call it a large storage shed.  To my sisters and me it was heaven.  A man had a Jewel Tea franchise and that was where he stored his merchandise.  And right next to the building was a pile…a glorious pile of…stuff.  It was like having our own treasure chest except there wasn’t a chest.  It was all there, free, for the taking.

What was there?  Well, there were all kinds of items…things for the house or for personal care.  Honestly, you never knew what you were going to find…it was the great adventure.  It was not uncommon for there to be candy and snacks.  Now keep in mind this was in the sixties and everything was still wrapped up tight.  We would have a ball pilfering through the pile.  Sometimes of course there wouldn’t be anything but the anticipation of going to the Jewel Tea warehouse was so exciting.  The only thing better than finding bottles and collecting our two cents each, was finding the mother lode at the warehouse.

Perhaps you can’t imagine rummaging through a pile of boxes left outside.  Perhaps you can’t imagine opening some candy someone had discarded but somehow, someway, it just seemed ok and normal back then.  It really was a great adventure. We didn’t have a lot and because of that we didn’t get a lot so when you could find bottles and get two cents or when you could get something for free…well, it was pretty good day.

Somehow, I missed those days…days of simplicity…days of being satisfied with little and needing less.  These days we are surrounded by so much and yet today, enough never seems to be quite enough.  What used to fill our cups seems now to be but a drop in the bucket.  I think we have lost our way…detoured down a road of discontentment where sunrises are ignored, and a beautiful flower missed as we rush by.  Love notes from our Dearest Daddy, strategically placed along our paths, go unread.  We need to slow down, we need to smell the roses, we need to read the notes.

Today, this day, why don’t we make a conscious decision to find something simple and marvel in it again and why don’t we start with a simple fact.  And what fact is that?  It is that God so loved this broken, crazy world we call home, so much that He allowed, He sent, His Son into it and made a promise. The promise is anyone who believes in Him can have eternal life.  Think about that.  Loved by God with heaven thrown in…now that’s a good day.  And if you need a booster shot of “feel good,” just remember this.  No matter what comes your way today…well, He’s got it.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, life, loving others, prayer, school days, Scripture, thankful, travel, Trials

Lost in Niger

 He counts the stars and calls them all by name.” Psalm 147:4

 Don’t follow me. I’m lost.  That may sound like something a pastor should never write but at least one time in my life, that was the message.  It seems like I was probably ten years old, and Momma and Daddy bought me a new bike for my birthday, and I was so proud of that bike. I remember it having the little “streamy” things that kids used to put on their handlebars so they could wave in the breeze.

There was one other thing that set it apart.  Attached to the back of the seat was a little “tag” (you know, like a license plate but a lot smaller) and it said, “Don’t follow me. I’m lost.”  I don’t know if Momma and Daddy bought it and put it on the bike or if it came on it. However, since I was like most ten-year-old boys—it was probably appropriate.  Of course, at that time I had no idea that one day I would be a pastor and do my best to help people find the right path in their lives. We all know how imperfect preachers are but hopefully there is one thing that we can do and do right—show people how to follow Jesus.  After all, we all get lost, and we all need someone to point us in the right direction.

More than a few years ago, we were in Niger, West Africa and we were in the Sahara Desert.  We were traveling from one small village in the middle of nowhere on our way to another slightly larger village in the middle of nowhere.  Keep in mind this is West Africa and more often than not, you are going to end up on a road made of sand with only an occasional road sign.  Our friend was driving a 4X4 and we thought we were heading in the direction of Abalak—a medium sized town in the middle of the desert.  We drove and drove, and she was pretty sure we were going in the right direction but who knew?  After all, it was West Africa, it was the desert, and signs were few and far between.

We drove for several hours till we came to a place where in the distance we could see a couple of tents and a few camels standing around.  I remember there was a young lady sitting on a donkey who looked like she could pass for Mary on her way to Bethlehem but there also was a man. We opened our window and our friend greeted him and he asked where we were going.  She told him we were going to Abalak.  I remember his reply. In his local language he said, “Not this way, you’re not.” He also said that he had a cousin in Abalak.  Of course, in West Africa, in the middle of nowhere, it seemed everyone either knew or was related to everyone.  But he offered to guide us to Abalak if he could ride along.

Well, we readily agreed and off we went with a new friend pointing the way. Remember the song we sing at Thanksgiving about over the river and through the woods?  Well, it was just like that except it wasn’t Thanksgiving, there was no river and there were no woods but after several hours we did find ourselves in Abalak.  It turns out our new friend was just the person we needed.  We were lost and he pointed us in the right direction.

You know, sometimes in life we get lost too, don’t we?  Don’t be shocked and don’t make me turn in my “man card,” but I’ve actually stopped and asked for directions. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t, but it was always reassuring when the landmark the person mentioned or the right color of house on the corner appeared.  It was always about then I knew we were on the right path, and everything was going to be ok.

As we emerge from the pandemic and all of its craziness and if you are feeling a little lost, remember it is ok to ask directions.  It might be a trusted friend or someone you know from church, but it is ok to get a little help. I’ve found a Friend that always points me right where I need to go.  He never gets lost because He made everything and He is never wrong because, well, He’s just never wrong.

There is a place in the Bible where it says that He knows the total number of stars in the heavens, and He calls them all by name.  And I figure if He knows the stars…He probably knows the way I ought to go.  How about that?  So today, if you’re feeling a little lost, just ask Him.  He loves pointing people in the right direction and, as always, you can rest assured that “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne