Posted in communication, Integrity, life, Military memories, Scripture, Trials

Mr. B

 “Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord will personally go ahead of you. He will be with you; He will neither fail you nor abandon you.” Deuteronomy 31:8

So, here’s the story. A long time ago, my wife and I were living in Warrensburg, Missouri, renting a house in a neighborhood that was still being built. We had just come back from three years in Germany with the Air Force, and we were still getting used to married life—only four years in. We had this big dream of owning our own home, but it wasn’t exactly a great time for buying. Interest rates were sky-high at around 18%, and inflation was crazy. But then, a little opportunity came along.

The guy behind the neighborhood development was a rough-around-the-edges contractor named Mr. B. We ran into him a few times as he was working on building the homes, and he brought up this government program that could help us build a house. They’d pay half the interest, which, honestly, sounded amazing compared to that 18%. So, long story short, we ended up getting approved, and soon we had a piece of land on Hilltop Drive with our names on it. We even added a few upgrades like a bay window and a fireplace in the basement. It cost a little extra, but they were worth it.

Looking back, I’m not sure if it was the smartest financial move for us, but it worked out in the end (that’s another story). It did cause some financial stress though, so to help, Mr. B suggested I do some “work equity.” He said I could do some of the labor for the house in exchange for a reduced price. Let me tell you, that was no easy task. I ended up doing all the painting and staining—inside and out. For a guy who’d never done anything like that, it was a big challenge.

But there was another way I could help ease the financial strain. Mr. B told me I could work for him on Saturdays, doing basic labor, and he’d pay me $15 an hour. Now, back in 1983, that was pretty good money, so I said yes. At the time, I was working in the Air Force full-time, pastoring a small church for $50 a week, and now I was going to work for Mr. B on Saturdays. Definitely stepping way out of my comfort zone.

Saturday came, and the job site was just down the street from our rental house. We were putting up heavy metal forms to pour the basement for a new house. We had to lift these things into place and hammer pins to hold them together. I was pretty nervous, but aside from dropping my hammer once, it went alright. We finished up around 4:00 PM, just in time for me to get home and start working on a sermon for the next day. Exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover it—I’m sure that sermon was a little on the short side!

The next week, I ran into Mr. B and he handed me my check. I had worked eight hours, so based on the $15 an hour he promised, I was expecting a check for about $120. But when I opened it, I found a check for only $40 and some change. I was pretty shocked. I asked him, “Mr. B, is this right?” He assured me it was. I said, “But you said $15 an hour…” He chuckled and replied, “Oh, I was just kidding about that. We actually pay $5 an hour.” Yeah, I wasn’t laughing. Honestly, I felt pretty betrayed. He promised one thing, and then gave me something totally different. That was the last Saturday I worked for Mr. B.

Have you ever felt that way? Like you’ve been promised something, and then it didn’t happen? Ever feel that way about God? It’s tough when people let us down, right? But it’s even harder when it feels like God doesn’t keep His promises. Here’s what I’ve learned over the years. When we feel betrayed by God or like He’s not coming through, it’s usually because we’ve misunderstood or misapplied His Word. The Bible is full of promises, but not all of them are for us. For example, the promises made to Abraham are not promises made to me. A lot of times, people—preachers, teachers, even regular folks—make promises on God’s behalf that He never actually made. And when those promises don’t come true, we end up blaming God, and that’s not right.

I’ve been following Jesus for over 50 years now, and I can tell you one thing: He has never let me down. Sure, things haven’t always gone the way I wanted, or the way I expected, but He’s never broken His promises to me. He is faithful and trustworthy. I can say that with confidence—He is a good God, and He’s good at being God. You can trust Him.

So, while Mr. B’s “little joke” was a tough lesson, it taught me something valuable. His heart was good, but his sense of humor? Not so much. But I’m so grateful that my Father God has a perfect heart, and His plans for me are perfect. No matter what I face, I know it’s for my good and His glory—and that’s enough for me. I can face today knowing, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, friends, gratitude, heaven, life, pride, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

Pennies from Heaven

 “Then a poor widow came by and dropped in two small coins.” Luke 21:2 

 It was just like finding money. When I was a kid growing up in Florida, I used to love finding money. Back in those days, you didn’t dare pass up any money. I know, today, we often will leave pennies just laying on the street.  After all, what will a penny buy these days? Well, back in the good old days a penny would buy plenty—like a piece of Bazooka or Swell bubble gum, a bunch of different kinds of penny candy, you know, Kits, Sugar Babies, Now and Later, Mary Janes, Squirrel’s, Bit-O-Honeys, those fake wax lips that you could wear and chew and on and that’s just the short list. So with the kind of variety, you just didn’t pass up those shiny pennies.

But there was something more. Back in those days, when sodas were sold in glass bottles, they came with a two-cent deposit. In other words, if you found a bottle by the road, you could take it to the store and get two cents which equated to two pieces of candy. It was just like pennies from heaven. So we would regularly walk the roads around our neighborhood or at Grandma’s house looking for bottles and on a good day—you could make quite the haul. It wasn’t uncommon to find ten or fifteen bottles—each worth two pieces of candy.

So you might wonder, “How did those bottles get there?” The answer was almost always some adult, who could care less about two cents or littering for that matter, would toss them out the window.  Ultimately, their loss was our gain. We got two cents and cleaned up the roadside to boot. It is kinda sad that this treasure hunt has gone by the wayside—no pun intended. While some people do walk the roads looking for cans, you you noticed you rarely see a kid putting in the effort? Today we live in such an “easy come, easy go” society. In so many cases, what used to be considered valuable…no longer is. In far more cases, what used to matter doesn’t.

I know the days of penny candy and pennies from heaven mattering are long gone. Let me encourage you, though,  to make sure the lessons of those days don’t disappear too.  Somehow, we need to teach our kids the power of “picking up bottles,” that strange satisfaction that comes from not just getting something sweet from the store but making the money to do so. All I know is this. There was something about hunting the treasure and then cashing it in. There was something about getting “paid” for hunting and working for those bottles. That part may be out of vogue but the value of teaching our kids to earn a “paycheck” is as needed today as yesterday. So why not get creative, find a way to help you kids and grandkids find pennies from heaven. It will take some wisdom but I know someone who is more than willing help us with that. He is our Heavenly Father and He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne 

Posted in food, friends, gratitude, Integrity, pride, school days, Southern born, thankful

Get a Job!

 “The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it.” Genesis 2:15

It was time to go to work. It may sound out of date…and maybe it is but I was counting the days till I turned 15.  Not because I was eligible for a learner’s permit, not because I was on the edge of moving on to high school but because, wait for it, I could get a work permit.  You see in Florida when you turned 15 you could get your social security number and get a work permit and…work.  I was ready and I had an in.

Sue Lovell was a neighbor who lived catty-corner from us at 6008 Carlton Road.  She lived in one of the nicer homes in the sub-division that had surrounded us, and we lived in our “used to be” army barracks.  I can remember Sue well.  She was a little different but at the same time very kind.  Well, she worked at this small restaurant called the Village Oven and she offered to try and get me a job if I wanted.  Well, I wanted and next thing I knew I was hired.

My job was not working on a computer or running a business and making life changing decisions. No, I started by serving people…sorta. Looking back it probably was a little challenging especially for someone just getting their feet wet in the working world.  First, I was the busboy which meant it was my responsibility to clear all the tables. As soon as someone left, I rushed out and cleaned the table.  Second, I was the dishwasher which meant I scraped the plates and then loaded and ran the commercial dishwasher that was tucked out front under the counter.  Of course, I also unloaded the dishwasher and made sure there was a constant supply of plates, bowls, glasses, and silverware.  But wait there is more.

I was also head of the cleaning crew—which consisted of—me. After our customers left, I was to mop the restaurant floor and clean the bathrooms. Looking back it seems that besides the cooking and waiting, I had my hands in just about everything.  There was always plenty to do…time passed quickly and it taught me responsibility. I was beginning to get the feel of helping and serving others. The best part of the job, of course, was getting paid.  My hours varied from a few to a lot and I made a whopping, jaw dropping seventy-five cents an hour. Since this was about 1969, I suppose that was a fair wage and that seventy-five cents went a long way.

I can remember my largest paycheck was around $23.  It must have been during the summer, and I worked somewhere over 30 hours.  I always felt a little rich when I got my check, but that week—I felt more than pretty rich—I felt like Mr. Rockefeller. There is a certain pride in a job done well and getting paid “certificates of appreciation” as Rabbi Daniel Lapin calls them.  Most of us call them dollars and they did make me feel appreciated.  I can’t remember exactly how long I worked at the Village Oven but I worked long enough to appreciate the value of bringing home a paycheck.  I worked long enough to spread my wings a little and fly the friendly skies of growing up.

I’m grateful to Sue Lovell for helping me get the job and I am grateful that my Momma and Daddy drove me the six or seven miles to work and picked me up…sometimes late at night.  I know now that often it is the small things that people do that should and do get stuck in our memories.  It is also the small things that can make a big difference later on.  My first job taught me about serving others, commitment, responsibilities, respect for my bosses, and teamwork at an early age. I can’t measure the entire value of that work experience, but I know I sure learned a lot about how the adult working world operated. 

God gave us work even before sin came along.  He knew the value of a man, woman or young adult getting their hands dirty.  He knew the value of working and making a difference and while it may seem hard at the time, the benefits can last a lifetime.  Genesis, the first book in the Bible, says, “The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it.” The God who made us knows what is best for us.  I’ve heard it said that we should bloom where we are planted, and I think that means caring for the garden around us too.  If you find yourself a little overwhelmed with this work thing or any other thing, just ask God and He will lend a hand…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, gratitude, life, school days, Scripture, Southern born, spiritual battles, thankful

Money Tip

For the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil.” 1 Timothy 6:10

I never considered myself an entrepreneur but looking back…maybe I am.  Fortunately, I was raised by a Momma and Daddy who believed in a strong work ethic.  While they weren’t overbearing about it, I grew up knowing that I should get a job and go to work. It must have worked because over all my working years I have always managed to have a job and go to work.  I consider that quite a blessing. Looking back, I think my working career really started when I was about ten years old.

In the early sixties, we had an old lawn mower or two that had seen better days but my Daddy, ever the mechanic, managed to keep them running.  And then, he was willing to let me borrow the mower and go around the neighborhood offering to mow people’s yards. Today, that is big business but back then…not so much.  I would grab the lawn mower, the gas can and start going door to door.  My business plan was simple.

I would go to the door, knock, or ring the bell and wait for someone to answer.  When they did, I would simply say, “Hello.  Would you like your grass mowed for $2.00? Now, most of these yards were a pretty good size so even back then that seemed like a fair price to me…but guess what?  That $2.00 then is equal to $27.40 today.  What? Ok, I must admit I was surprised to learn that.  That might explain why more often than not, the answer to my question was a polite, “No.”  You see, it turns out that $2.00 was a sizable investment back in ’64.

But there were plenty of folks that said yes, and there were a few repeat customers.  The bottom line is it was enough to give me some spending money and, of course, keep the gas can filled.  At the end of the day there was always a trip to Jackson’s Minute Market that was down the street from my house.  There I would pull out one of the wadded-up dollar bills and trade part of it for a RC cola or Icee and a honey bun.  That would set me back a quarter.  The rest of my earnings stayed in my pocket or in a safe place back home just waiting for a trip to Pic-N-Save or some other store.

Speaking of Pic-N-Save, that is one thing I wrestled with—saving.  If memory serves me right, I did a whole lot more spending than saving.  It seems I remember my Daddy saying something about that money, “burning a hole in my pocket.”  Well, he was right.  While money didn’t come easy for me in ’64 it sure went easy.  Me and my dollars were all about me.  I never thought about giving or sharing…only spending.

Well, I am glad to let you know I have learned a little more about money since those days.  First, I learned (well, actually I’m still learning) that Jesus was right…it is more blessed to give than to receive.  Me and Jesus (and my wife Judy) came to terms a long time ago about giving back a part of what He gives to me. I’m even learning that everything belongs to Him anyway, so it only seems right to give some back.  And that isn’t all.

I’m also learning about saving.  I’ve always said that I was a spender and not a saver but now I can honestly say that I’m a pretty good saver. In fact, sometimes it is hard for me to let go of those hard-earned dollars.  That might explain why I don’t go to the grocery store too often.  Judy will send me looking for a can of beans.  When I get there, I find out that there are all kinds of beans, and some are cheaper than others.  So, it might take me a couple of days to decide which one to buy.  Hmmm…how about that?

Another thing that I have learned is that money isn’t good or bad…it is just money…a tool that we can use either wisely or foolishly. One of those verses in the Bible that is often misquoted says that money is the root of all evil.  Turns out that isn’t what the Bible says at all.  It says that the love of money is the root of all evil.  In other words, when we start worshiping money or when greed becomes a monster in our lives…we are in deep weeds, and the answer to all of that is—generosity.

So, it turns out what to do with money is one of those lifelong lessons.  I’m grateful the ten-year-old Dewayne was taught to work but I wish he had learned a lot earlier about giving, sharing, and saving. But the good news is that it is never too late to change.  One of the greatest joys in life is sharing with others.  I think it must be a Jesus thing because He always shared with those around Him.  If you need some help, why not ask the One who owns it all…and chooses to share with you.  Take it to the bank (pun intended) He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne 

Posted in Family, Father's Day, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, Integrity, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Daddy

Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.” Exodus 20:12

He didn’t wear a cape or an iron suit, but he was a hero to me.  A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away I was born.  It all happened on January 6, 1954, in Orange Park, Florida.  I was number eight in a family of eight. This can’t be confirmed but I think it went something like this.  My Daddy was somewhat of a perfectionist and he and my Momma had tried seven times to have the perfect child.  He went to her and said, “Well, honey, I know we have tried seven times to pull off this perfect child thing and I say we give it one more shot.  I really think eight is going to be our lucky number.”  So, ta-da here I am…living proof that persistence pays off.

My Daddy was 42 years old when I was born.  He had plenty of experience at the father thing and you know, I think he did a great job.  I don’t recall a lot of special events in my early and later childhood but that isn’t because they didn’t happen.  I can remember family camping trips to the beach as well as all night fishing trips to the same.  I can remember family vacations to see relatives in all the hot vacation spots like New Jersey and Texas.  I can remember trips to Silver Springs, Six Gun Territory and Doctor’s Inlet which was a great place to go for a lake swim.  But there are also several memories with just dad and me.

When I was about six, Daddy took me fishing on Cedar Creek.  It was just me and him.  At this age, I wasn’t very good at fishing or paying attention.  Truth be known I had a hard time staying focused on anything for very long.  Anyway, the fish were biting that day, but I had a hard time watching the bobber.  Over and again, Daddy would ask, “Dewayne, where’s your bobber?”  I would look and it was gone.  We lost a lot of good worms that day.

Later, when I was about ten, Daddy took me hunting.  The big deal was that he allowed me to take my BB gun.  I wasn’t allowed to carry a real gun; you will see why in a moment.  So, we were walking through the woods, and I was about four feet behind dad.  Silent as an F5 tornado, I crept through the woods.  I was too noisy, but dad was way patient.   And then, well, I shot him in the back.  Now wait, don’t panic.  It was only a BB gun, and he did have his heavy hunting jacket on.  I had my finger on the trigger (oops) and every so slowly and without even realizing it, increased the pressure.  Just like that it went off and got dad square in the back. Bummer.

Do you know what?  He didn’t holler and in fact he didn’t say a single word.  He just looked over his shoulder and gave me that “I’m glad that wasn’t a 12 gauge” look.  I appreciated that and have never forgotten the fact that he could have made me feel “less than” but didn’t.  I’m sure we had a talk about gun safety, and it must have worked out because I never shot him again.

My two favorite memories of him don’t involve a fishing pole or a gun.  They involve God.  Honestly, Daddy didn’t go to church a bunch, but I know he was a Christian because of the way he lived. Two events, two memories are burned into my mind and heart.  The first is a time when we were having prayer time together as a family.  Some people call it family altar…at the time I probably called it too long.  I remember it was time to pray so we all got down on our knees around the room.  I got a little bored, so I peeked and there across the room was my Daddy, on his knees, talking to God.  It made a big impression on my young heart.

Later, when I was about 17, I caught Daddy praying again.  I came home from a date late one night and there sitting at the kitchen table was my Daddy—praying.  With his hands clasped together he was talking to God.  I don’t know what prompted the late-night prayer meeting, but I know it again made a big impression on me as a young man. And that is the point.  My Daddy made an impression on me that impacted so many areas of my life.  Integrity, work ethic, caring and providing for your family and being a man were all part of the core curriculum.

I didn’t get to keep my Daddy too much longer.  When I was in high school, he had a massive heart attack.  He lived a couple of more years but when he was just 62 and I was 20, God decided to take him home.  Suddenly, on a Sunday morning he went to heaven.  It was hard and is hard to this day.  He never got to meet my wife, children, or any of his eight great grandchildren. He never got to see much of my career in the Air Force or hear me preach a sermon.  I hope in heaven they keep tabs on us down here and I hope I’ve made my hero proud.

Well, now that we are all sad and weepy let me throw this in.  Whether you are young or older, take the time this Father’s Day, and every day, to tell your dad (and mom) how much you appreciate them.  One of God’s big commands is that we honor our parents and when we do—we honor Him.  There’s no better way to do that than to tell them and show them that you love them.

I know things don’t always work out with dads and if that is the case with you, I am so sorry.  My Daddy wasn’t perfect…none are but his love outweighed his warts. If you are a Jesus follower, I hope you can extend some grace…just like God did to you.  And always remember, you have a Heavenly Father who is perfect, who always gets it right. He’s always waiting for you to crawl up in His lap and take a rest.  And the icing on the cake is He is stronger than a superhero…and because of that, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, wisdom

Money Tip

For the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil.” 1 Timothy 6:10

I never considered myself an entrepreneur but looking back…maybe I am.  Fortunately, I was raised by a Momma and Daddy who believed in a strong work ethic.  While they weren’t overbearing about it, I grew up knowing that I should get a job and go to work. It must have worked because over my 53 working years I have always managed to have a job and go to work.  I consider that quite a blessing. Looking back, I think my working career really started when I was about ten years old.

In the early sixties, we had an old lawn mower or two that had seen better days but my Daddy, ever the mechanic, managed to keep them running.  And then, he was willing to let me borrow the mower and go around the neighborhood offering to mow people’s yards. Today, that is big business but back then…not so much.  I would grab the lawn mower, the gas can and start going door to door.  My business plan was simple.

I would go to the door, knock, or ring the bell and wait for someone to answer.  When they did, I would simply say, “Hello.  Would you like your grass mowed for $2.00? Now, most of these yards were a pretty good size so even back then that seemed like a fair price to me…but guess what?  That $2.00 then is equal to $27.40 today.  What? Ok, I must admit I was surprised to learn that.  That might explain why more often than not, the answer to my question was a polite, “No.”  You see, it turns out that $2.00 was a sizable investment back in ’64.

But there were plenty of folks that said yes, and there were a few repeat customers.  The bottom line is it was enough to give me some spending money and, of course, keep the gas can filled.  At the end of the day there was always a trip to Jackson’s Minute Market that was down the street from my house.  There I would pull out one of the wadded-up dollar bills and trade part of it for a RC cola or Icee and a honey bun.  That would set me back a quarter.  The rest of my earnings stayed in my pocket or in a safe place back home just waiting for a trip to the Pic-N-Save or some other store.

Speaking of Pic-N-Save, that is one thing I wrestled with—saving.  If memory serves me right, I did a whole lot more spending than saving.  It seems I remember my Daddy saying something about that money, “burning a hole in my pocket.”  Well, he was right.  While money didn’t come easy for me in ’64 it sure went easy.  Me and my dollars were all about me.  I never thought about giving or sharing…only spending.

Well, I am glad to let you know I have learned a little more about money since those days.  First, I learned (well, actually I’m still learning) that Jesus was right…it is more blessed to give than to receive.  Me and Jesus (and my wife Judy) came to terms a long time ago about giving back a part of what He gives to me. I’m even learning that everything belongs to Him anyway, so it only seems right to give some back.  And that isn’t all.

I’m also learning about saving.  I’ve always said that I was a spender and not a saver but now I can honestly say that I’m a pretty good saver. In fact, sometimes it is hard for me to let go of those hard earned dollars.  That might explain why I don’t go to the grocery store too often.  Judy will send me looking for a can of beans.  When I get there, I find out that there are all kinds of beans, and some are cheaper than others.  So, it might take me a couple of days to decide which one to buy.  Hmmm…how about that?

Another thing that I have learned is that money isn’t good or bad…it is just money…a tool that we can use either wisely or foolishly. One of those verses in the Bible that is often misquoted says that money is the root of all evil.  Turns out that isn’t what the Bible says at all.  It says that the love of money is the root of all evil.  In other words, when we start worshiping money or when greed becomes a monster in our lives…we are in deep weeds, and the answer to all of that is—generosity.

So, it turns out what to do with money is one of those lifelong lessons.  I’m grateful the ten-year-old Dewayne was taught to work but I wish he had learned a lot earlier about giving, sharing, and saving. But the good news is that it is never too late to change.  One of the greatest joys in life is sharing with others.  I think it must be a Jesus thing because He always shared with those around Him.  If you need some help, why not ask the One who owns it all…and chooses to share with you.  Take it to the bank (pun intended) He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne 

Posted in Father's Day, friends, Grace, life, love, loving others, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Thanks, Daddy…and Momma

Children, obey your parents because you belong to the Lord, for this is the right thing to do. “Honor your father and mother.” This is the first commandment with a promise.” Ephesians 6:1-2

This Sunday is Father’s Day, and it causes me to remember.  These days, I think it happens somewhere around a person’s 11th birthday. But back when I was a boy about to become a young man, it happened when I was 13 or 14.  When you are younger it seems you notice more of the things that Daddy and Momma’s do.  You appreciate the fact that that they do the ordinary things…the everyday things.

Things like washing clothes and cooking supper.  Things like ironing your shirts and cleaning the house.  Things like taking you fishing after a long day at work and teaching you the value of work.  Things like providing a place for you to sleep at night and knowing you were safe.  And, yes, things like showing you what two married people are supposed to look like…live like.

However, right before you take the leap into your teen years, something happens.  Suddenly enough is not enough.  Suddenly you know more—especially more than your parents.  Then you spend more than a few years not being appreciative, but rather telling them and anyone who would listen how hard things are “where I live.”  The fact that it was the sixties and seventies didn’t help.  It seemed that everyone around me was doing their own thing but all I could do was my Daddy’s thing.  Whatever he said, went, and that’s just the way it was. And yes, what Momma said went too.

When I was eighteen and stepped onto a plane to fly to basic training in the Air Force something began to click.  The things that Daddy taught me began to make sense.  All those “yes, sirs” and “yes, ma’am’s” that the Air Force required came easy for me because that’s the way I was raised.  When the call came to “get up, get up,” well that came easy too because I had a Daddy and a Momma who thought I didn’t need to lay in bed all day.  And going to work…second nature.  My Daddy demonstrated that year after year and by example taught me a strong work ethic.

Largely because of the times they said, “Because I said so” and set boundaries and enforced them, well, I’ve never woke up with a hangover, never spent a night (or an hour) in jail and have never been fired from a job. As I look back from my six and a half decades viewpoint (uh, plus three for good measure), I realize that my two incredible parents were right after all.  And I may, no I didn’t, appreciate it at the time but they saved me from a lot of regrets and consequences.

It is safe to say that time changes our viewpoint and as I sit here today mashing keys and writing, I realize just how blessed I have been.  My Daddy was quite the ordinary guy, but that is exactly what made him extraordinary.  He wasn’t perfect and gratefully he didn’t expect me to be either, but he did teach me respect for him and for others.  For 46 years I have respected the woman I am married to because he taught me to respect my Momma.  He (with a lot of help from God) helped me be the man I am today and for that I will be eternally grateful.

God chose to take my Daddy to heaven when I was only twenty years old…before he could meet my wife, my kids, and their kids.  I remember the summer Sunday morning we found him in bed. Sometime in the early, early morning he had slipped away from us and made the trek to heaven.  I’m glad I will see him again someday.  I’m not sure how all of this works but maybe, just maybe I will get to introduce him to my sweet wife and family.  What a day that will be for sure.

So, thanks Daddy, and Momma, for all you did for me…for the love and the sacrifices you made for me and the rest of the tribe.  And Grits family, remember to honor your father and mother, just like God says in His word.  It’s the first command with a promise and I promise you won’t regret it.  And, if you find that hard because of some very difficult memories and scars left from actions best not done, or words best not spoken, try and reach into God’s grace bucket and sling some around.  If you are a Jesus follower, your Dearest Daddy in heaven would like that and He’s even willing to help. As always, He’s got that…and this. Bro. Dewayne