June 2020 – Grits with Grace

Snake in the Hole

Posted on June 30, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

Call upon Me in the day of trouble; I shall rescue you, and you will honor Me.” Psalm 50:15

The story you are about to read is true and it may scar you forever. When our girls were young, oh, about six and five, we lived in Cobden, Illinois. We owned a large 100 year old Victorian home which was located on the edge of town. We had woods near by and of course lots of flower beds. The church where I pastored was wanting to hire a guy to lead worship and work with the youth.

His name was David and his wife was Sue. They came and stayed for the weekend and we had them over for supper on Saturday night. After we had eaten, we were sitting around and chatting. It was getting close to bedtime so we told the girls it was time for them to go upstairs and get ready for bed. So, because they were perfect little girls (not), off they went while we continued to visit and chat. It was just about then chaos broke out.

We heard what sounded like a herd of water buffalo coming down the stairs combined with the sound of a tornado siren going off. I looked at Judy, she looked at me as we waited to see what the girls had cooked up. All parents know that when kids are told to get ready for bed there is always a great conspiracy to not do it. It has gone on for ages. Sure enough, here they come, screaming at the top of their lungs, “Daddy, there’s a SNAKE in the bathroom! There’s a SNAKE in the bathroom!” Really, I mean give me a break. Is that the best that you have?

I try to believe my children but this was just a little far fetched. I started the usual parent stuff, “There’s no snake in the bathroom. You better get right upstairs and get ready for bed.” There were probably a couple of mild threats that included something about the wrath of God but all to no avail. They were sticking to their story. So, off we went to find the nonexistent snake. Whoever heard of such a thing? Snake in the bathroom. Right. Sure.

So, we all tramp upstairs, with David and Sue in tow, to see this mysterious serpent. I went first not because I was bravest but because Judy made me. I looked around and thankfully there was no snake. Then the girls gave us one more small detail. “It’s in the toilet, Daddy” they said. Right. Sure. I tentatively walked over and took a look. No snake. Yay and then one of the girls said, “Look under the seat, Daddy.” Well, by now I was sure this was a grand plan to avoid bedtime. And then I lifted the seat.

There, neatly conformed to the shape of the bowl was indeed a snake. Yes, he was only about 15 inches long but to me it looked like a giant anaconda and about that time they weren’t the only ones screaming. I dropped the seat and we all left the bathroom to formulate a plan of attack. It involved a clothes hanger and a brave soul. I was elected. We got a clothes hanger and straightened it out. The plan was to lift the lid, push the snake into the water and flush. The snake would be sucked down the drain. Crisis solved. So, I tip-toed over to the toilet, lifted the lid and poked the snake. It fell into the water and I flushed.

I learned three things about snakes at that moment. First, they are very buoyant. Secondly, they swim really well. In an act of desperation, I even tried to hold the snake under the water with the clothes hanger. Lesson number three. They can hold their breath for a really long time. There was only one thing left to do. Call Bob, our friend and neighbor. Bob was a biology teacher so he knew about snakes. Bob liked snakes. Bob wasn’t afraid of snakes. So we made the call and in a few minutes Bob came to the rescue. He assured us that it was harmless and he reached down and picked up the snake. Bob was a little weird like that.

The girls when to bed and David and Sue went on to take the job at the church. At least they knew we obviously didn’t practice snake handling. For years…Rebecca rarely visited the bathroom without first checking under the seat. Judy and I learned to be a bit less suspicious of our girls’ bedtime antics. And Bob…well although he lives an hour away, I keep his number of speed-dial. It always pays off to have a friend like Bob. I keep God on speed dial too. In all the craziness that night there was a lot of praying going on. And like Bob, actually even better than Bob, God is always there. He doesn’t care if it something crazy like a snake in the toilet or a pandemic in the world…He can handle it. God tells us in the Bible that when we get in trouble, when we don’t know what to do or when we simply don’t know the answer give Him a holler and He will come to the rescue. You know, I’m glad for friends like Bob. I’m especially glad for a Friend like Jesus. He’s never surprised when I call…never too busy…never annoyed. He just whispers, “No problem, Dewayne. Take it easy. You can rest in me. I’ve got this.”

Family, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture

My Name is Sue

Posted on June 29, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.” Proverbs 17:17

Johnny Cash sang it. “My name is Sue…now you’re going to die.” Well, his name wasn’t Sue but it was Francis. Like Sue…it was a somewhat unusual name for a man and Francis was an unusual guy. I met Francis when I went to pastor at the LaMonte Baptist Church. The church had three deacons and they were named Leo, Francis, and Floyd. All three of them were special guys and I grew to love each one of them for who they were. I was a very young, inexperienced pastor. I was new at the pastoring thing. So new, in fact, that when I mowed my grass at the parsonage, across the street from the church, I would wear dress pants. I wasn’t sure if pastors were allowed to wear jeans so close to the church. They can.

So, even back in 1984, Judy loved flowers and the parsonage was woefully short in that department. In fact, I’m not sure there were any flowers in the entire yard. Well, one day Judy declared that she wanted a flower bed. She began to actually plan the “where’s and how’s” of the flower bed. If it would have been me, I would have grabbed some flowers, dug a hole, stuffed them in, and added dirt. Good luck. Not Judy. She decided that the flower bed should go along the front of the house and that it need to be raised. That means we needed to find some timbers to build up the height of the bed. Again, after a little thought, she decided that railroad ties would do the job.

Somehow, I casually mentioned to Francis that Judy wanted a flower bed. Now Francis was the “go-to guy” when it came to things like the parsonage. He had already led the charge in installing a brick flue so we could have a wood burner so he was the natural choice for the flower bed. I said, “Francis, Judy would like to have some railroad ties for her new flower bed”. Francis didn’t miss a beat. He said, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at five.”

Well, sure as shooting, the next day at five, Francis pulled up in his big ole dually, white Dodge pickup truck. You know there are pickup trucks too pretty to get dirty and then there are real pickup trucks. Francis had a real pickup truck. I climbed inside and we headed toward Sedalia the largest town nearby. I figured we were heading to the hardware store there to purchase some ties. I was wrong. You see, there was a railroad that ran parallel to the main highway. We went down the road a ways and then…Francis turned.

Yup, he turned on a small road and then immediately took a right. We had arrived at the railroad tie store only it wasn’t a store…it was the factory. I found myself in railroad tie heaven. You see, the railroad company had recently replaced their ties and the old ones were strewn all down the rails. As far as you could see there were railroad ties. I was just amazed. I should have been afraid.

Francis said, “Preacher, how many ties do you think you will need?” Well, I told him I thought ten or twelve would be enough.” So we started going along the tracks and selecting the best ones for the flower bed. Just like a carpenter would choose the best 2×4’s at the lumber yard, we picked the best ties. This was just awesome. And then it happened. I heard the sound of distant train whistle.

Now I didn’t think a thing about it. I always was a bit gullible and way too trusting. I had just assumed that Francis had called the local railroad office, told them the church needed a few of their old ties and got permission to get some. I was wrong. I heard the whistle the second time and it was decidedly closer. I noticed that Francis had picked up the pace…he was definitely moving a little faster. I still didn’t think a thing. I just assumed he didn’t want to be that close to the tracks when the train went by. Well, that was kinda true.

The whistle blew again and this time it must have been about a mile down the tracks and Francis said it, “Preacher, we gotta go.” I did sense a bit of urgency in his voice but I kinda thought it was a safety thing. It turned out it was a bit more than that. As we got back in his truck I said, “Francis, what’s the hurry?” I was thinking we could just move the truck further away from the tracks and we could even wave at the crew as they went by. “Preacher, you don’t think they are giving us these ties, do you?” Wait. What?

Yup…I just discovered that we were stealing ties from the railroad. It wasn’t a matter of safety it was a matter of not going to jail. So, Francis cranked the engine and mashed the gas and off we went just before the train came by. In the back of the truck were a bunch of railroad ties and in the front were two guys. One was a preacher, one was a deacon and both of them were guilty as sin. One knew all about it and the other was just learning but both were tie stealing criminals. Francis was smiling and I was wondering if I was going to jail. But somehow it all seemed like a great adventure.

Well, we got back to the parsonage and we built the flower bed. Francis helped with that too. Years later when I would return to the church to preach, share at a funeral or maybe just drive through town, I would look and see the ties. I didn’t remember the sin (I’m sure I confessed it. God had forgotten it and I figure I should too.) No, I remembered a crusty old deacon, but more than that, a friend who wanted to help. His way wasn’t ethical but all these years later, his willingness, his own brand of love is still lodged in my heart. The Book says, “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.” You know there are fancy friends, and rich friends and maybe even friends in positions of power. And then there are the Francis kind of friends. Of course if you’re gonna steal railroad ties, you definitely need the Jesus kind of friend. As a matter of fact, He says, “go steal no more” in Ephesians 4:28, and I didn’t. His specialty is forgiving when you mess up and He’s the best friend of all. He’s the kind of friend that wouldn’t have frowned or pretend He didn’t know you when He saw you in Walmart. No, He’s the stay by your side friend. Through thick or thin, jail or not, He would say, “Don’t worry…just rest in Me. I’ve got this.” Now that’s my kind of friend.

Family, Grace, gratitude, life, Military memories, missions, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, travel

Forty-four Years

Posted on June 26, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

So watch your step. Use your head. Make the most of every chance you get. These are desperate times! Don’t live carelessly, unthinkingly. Make sure you understand what the Master wants.” Ephesians 5:16-17

Forty-four years. 16,071 sunrises and sunsets. That’s the length of the on-going saga of our story. It seems like yesterday but it also seems like another lifetime. We both were young… maybe too young. But we were in love, we wanted to walk together so that day, this day forty-four years later, we started walking and just never stopped.

We were chatting last night before we drifted off to sleep and I told her we were blessed. There have been bumps but not the kind of bumps that come from wanting to quit or wanting something new. They were the kind of bumps that come from life. The death of our parents, starting over when the Air Force or God gave new orders, kids being kids and people being people, and yes, me being me and her being her. But what a journey.

Forty-four years. I remember the excitement of our wedding day. I in my snazzy light-blue tux and patent leather high heeled shoes (hey, cut me some slack…it was the seventies) and her standing at the back of the church in her white wedding dress and long brown hair. Her standing and then walking…walking to me to join me…to start life together. I was marrying up…and well.

Forty-four years. I remember embarking on the first of many great adventures as we flew to Europe not for a honeymoon but to live. The Air Force sent us to live in Germany and while the separation from family was hard…life was enchanting. I remember looking out our apartment window overlooking an alpine valley with the trees covered with a light dusting of snow. I remember our German landlord knocking on our door and presenting my new bride with a freshly skinned rabbit. He was beaming and she was wondering, “What do I do with this?”

Forty-four years. I remember coming back to the USA after three years and seeing our country through new eyes. Leave for a while and you never see it quite the same. Leave for a while and the warts and imperfection all fall into perspective. I remember traveling to the Midwest for the first time and finding out that not everyone liked grits or even knew what they were. I remember the birth of our first daughter and realizing that we weren’t in Kansas anymore.

Forty-four years. I remember daughter number two surprising us…and what a good surprise it was. Our family was complete (or not) and our future secure in the Air Force…until the Whisperer whispered. So long Air Force and hello pastoring and walking by faith. With a young wife and two kids ages three and two, no insurance and a pastorate that paid $12,000..well, faith was a little harder…a little less sure. About then I began to realize just how big, how sure, God is. I’m still learning that one but He has a perfect track record.

Forty-four years. I remember the day when we had to pack up and leave a bunch of people we loved a lot and that loved us a lot. With a station-wagon and a U-Haul stuffed to the gills we moved to a little town called Cobden. It was new all over again and we fell in love again with another wonderful group of people. It was at Cobden that God surprised us with daughter number three. It was at Cobden we raised our family because God let us stay 14 years. It was at Cobden we learned deep lessons of love and grace. After fourteen years the Whisperer whispered again and we knew we had to obey. It was one of the hardest things we ever did.

Forty-four years. I remember coming to Harrisburg and to Dorrisville Church and wondering how God would write this new part of our story. I remember wondering how long this chapter would be. Well, here we are 20 years into this part of our story—almost half of our married lives—and I am still amazed at God’s grace and His people’s patience. Our kids are grown, we have eight grandkids and Judy and I are experiencing what it is like to grow old together. I highly recommend it.

Forty-four years. James, the half-brother of Jesus tells us that life is like a vapor. In other words it goes by quickly. Remember how you breathe on a cold morning and your breath appears as if smoke? As quickly as it appears…it leaves. That’s life. I am amazed at my age, the length of our marriage and just how awesome life has been been…and is. Paul, another Bible guy, had it right. He says, “So watch your step. Use your head. Make the most of every chance you get. These are desperate times! Don’t live carelessly, unthinkingly. Make sure you understand what the Master wants.” Good advice, Paul, good advice indeed. Forty-Four years. Yup, life is good. I’m still in love with Jesus, still in love with Judy, and still in love with my kids and grandkids. I get up each day just waiting to see what God has in store…waiting for the next whisper…the next great adventure. Till then I bet you can guess what I’m going to do. Yup…I’m going to rest in Him. He’s got this.

Family, Grace, gratitude, life, Scripture, travel

Patience or “Not”

Posted on June 25, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

Consider it a great joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you experience various trials, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance.” James 1:2-3

At first it seemed unfair but then, there it was, conspiracy. There is a lot of talk today about conspiracy schemes. When and whatever happens there is someone who will say there is a dark diabolical reason for it happening. I wasn’t sure about it until it happened to me. Yes, there was a conspiracy.

As you may remember, my wife and I were able to attend a pastor’s conference in North Carolina. It was so good to pack a few things, jump into our 44 mpg Jetta and hit the road. Willie Nelson’s “On the Road Again” was ringing in my ears. We cruised across Tennessee and were heading toward North Carolina when it happened. About five miles from the border, our GPS talky thing said, in her most gentle voice, “traffic ahead.” Well, it wasn’t like we were in Chicago or something so that could only mean trouble.

Soon, very soon, trouble was staring me in the face. Brake-lights and slowing vehicles were everywhere. We were in a slowdown—we were in—traffic. Signage and the talky thing confirmed my worse fears—there was construction ahead. Now you need to know something. First, I am not patient in traffic. Ok, that wasn’t totally transparent. I am totally impatient in traffic. In fact, I’m not patient period. Whether it be in traffic or at the store, I am changing lanes like a one-armed paperhanger looking for the shortest and fastest lane. The Bible says we are fearfully and wonderfully made but I must have missed the patience part.

Have you ever been driving and the traffic going in the opposite direction is stopped and you are feeling sorry for them? Well, I was the one stopped and I could just feel the empathy of the other drivers. It turned out to be about a 45 minute stop and go. The amazing part was I did pretty good. Judy was beaming at my surprising patience. I even said, “Well, at least going home we won’t have to deal with this.” Soon (though not soon enough) we were through the construction—we were on our way. Hit the fast forward button.

That was Wednesday. Too quickly the days of the conference went by and in no time it was time to go home. After the conference ended at noon we jumped into our 44 mpg Jetta and hit the road toward home. Willie was once again whirling around in my head singing “On the Road Again.” We were nearing the site of Wednesday’s lesson in patience feeling confident and glad that we were heading in the other direction. And then it happened. The GPS talky thing mentioned traffic, 14 miles per hour, and delays. Wait. What? We were not supposed to have to deal with this. And that is when I knew there was a conspiracy. They had changed sides.

Here’s how I think it played out. The North Carolina Department of Transportation called the conference center, asked when I was leaving and then quickly moved the construction to the West bound side so they could get me again. I am sure of it. So, another slowdown, another wait in traffic, but this time they were merciful since it was only 27 minutes and 14 seconds. Oh yes, I was counting. And the people going East, they were zooming by with looks of mercy for those of us stuck. It just wasn’t fair.

I know the Bible well enough to know that you don’t pray for patience. That is one prayer you won’t hear passing through my lips. Pray for patience and you end up with traffic. Pray for patience and you end up locked in your house with three kids for three months. So I get that. But there is a pesky couple of verses found in James 1:2-3 that say, “Consider it a great joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you experience various trials, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance.” I really like the Bible but I really don’t like those verses.

Of all the emotions I feel when I am sitting in traffic, joy is not the one that comes to mind—and especially not great joy. But then I read verse 3 and it gives me pause. James says I should appreciate the moments in traffic because it helps me to grow. It helps me to be a better person. It helps me be stronger—it builds endurance. Like lifting weights at the gym strengthens muscles-—so trying situations strengthens our faith in God. Which means part of this whole pandemic deal might be to make us stronger in our faith. Hmmmm. Well, in the end I did pretty good through traffic lesson number two and we managed to get home that evening just about on time. Truth be known…God was good, God was faithful and even in traffic, God can be trusted. No matter what, He has my good at His heart. He wants me to thrive in this world and not just survive. And that means sometimes learning patience sitting in traffic. As you travel today wherever and however that looks, just know God is the traffic manger of your life. Just sit back, enjoy the pause and rest in Him. He’s got this. Honk, Honk.

Family, Grace, gratitude, life, Southern born, thankful

Stonehenge

Posted on June 24, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save the lost.” Luke 19:10

Roy Smith Allen was a genuine, authentic, real-deal Southern good ole boy. I met him on the road to falling in love with his daughter. I can remember virtually every detail of meeting Judy but Roy, well, its like one minute he wasn’t there and the next he was. I met Judy at her church on a Wednesday night. I walked in the side door and she was standing with a group of five or six girls. It was as if the others weren’t even there. She stole the show…and my heart.

I found out that when I started dating Judy, I also started dating her family. They were a crazy bunch of fun-loving people who turned every get together into a ruckus of stories and one-uppers. Right in the middle of the craziness was Roy. Well, for some reason, Roy took a shine to me. Judy will tell you that both of her parents liked me more than her. That probably wasn’t true. But I guess they trusted me because truth be known she was a little too young and I was a little too old. But here we are forty-four years later so we must have met somewhere in the middle.

Roy was a hard core, church going, deacon. He worked for the county as the superintendent of roads and had been the assistant warden at the county work camp. He had a gun…he carried a gun. He told Judy and I upfront he didn’t believe in pre-marshall (translated premarital) sex. We both agreed with that so the gun stayed in the holster which was a good thing.

About nine months after I started dating Judy, I asked her to marry me. It happened to be on April Fool’s Day which was kinda funny. But I was dead serious and happily she said yes. So, by now Roy had become Pops to me. So I knew I had to ask him if I could marry Judy. After his first heart attack, his doctor suggested he begin a walking regimen. One evening I joined him walking around the track at the park and I said, “Pops, I would like to marry Judy.” It wasn’t a question but it was a statement that needed a response and he gave one. “No you don’t, boy.” Pops called me “boy” a lot. It wasn’t derogatory but more akin to him calling me “son.”

I persisted and said, “No really, I want to marry Judy.” He stoically gave the same answer, “No you don’t, boy.” Well, I can’t remember how many times we bantered back and forth but eventually I took it as a yes. We were officially engaged…as soon as I could afford a ring.

Somewhere along the journey, her parents allowed me to stay in the spare bedroom at their house on weekends. The base was about twenty-five miles away so it seemed to make some sense. Pops liked to get up early and work hard and I became the “young buck” of his Saturday operations . He was building a shed about 20 miles out in the country and he saw in me some free labor. So, he would come in the bedroom at about 4:30 am and declare, “Time to get up, boy.” I would groggily roll out of bed. We would head to the Gold Plate Restaurant for a hearty breakfast with hot, strong coffee and then head to the building site where I wished I hadn’t eaten quite so much.

Pops had acquired some huge, like 10×10 inch, used bridge timbers from the county. While he supervised, I began digging holes and setting these monstrous beams. Then, we (make that me) had the pleasure of trying to hoist them up to form the roof. Well, it near-bout killed me. We never finished the building and I am sure forty-four years later those timbers are probably still standing like some sort of South Georgia Stonehenge.

In the fall of 1975, at church one morning, I went from being a church goer to a Jesus follower. That day I finally figured out that being religious was not the same as having a relationship with Jesus. It was and is a big deal. Everyone was really happy that I had made that commitment. There were plenty of hugs and words of affirmation but none matched Pop’s. He simply said, “I knew there was something wrong with you, boy.” It was apparent Pops wasn’t gifted in the affirmation department. But that was Roy…that was Pops. I was pretty sure he loved me and I know loved him…especially since he didn’t shoot me.

So, about a year later, Judy and I were married and in spite of a bad heart he was there to walk her down the aisle. When Judy and I were assigned to Germany, Pops flew there twice to see us. When we were assigned to Missouri, here came Pops. He came out to see our new daughter and his new granddaughter, Rebecca. And then just six weeks later he was apparently working in his backyard there in South Georgia and sat down to rest. Sometime during the break, Jesus came and took him home. Pops was gone but the legend, the legacy lives on.

Roy Smith Allen had a lot of rough edges, a lot of warts, if you will. But buried somewhere beneath the rough exterior was a good hearted man. I’m sure he required a lot of God’s grace but don’t we all? None us could make the cut for heaven based on our own merit. We all are just like Pops…sinners in need of a graceful, loving God. The Book says that Jesus came to seek and to save lost people. People like Roy, people like me and people like you. And if we are willing to be found, He is will to forgive us and invite us into His family. In his backward way, that is what Pops did. Every time he called me “boy” he was calling me “son.” I like that. So if you find yourself bumping along in life, rough around the edges, you might try what Pops tried. It wasn’t church…it was Jesus. I know it changed my life. It didn’t make me perfect but it did make me forgiven. And the best part? In this crazy, upside-down world, He is always there. I can always go to Him, rest in Him. I know, He’s got this.

Family, food, life, Scripture

Food Truck

Posted on June 23, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

“When He saw the crowds, He felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and dejected, like sheep without a shepherd.” Matthew 9:36

There’s a new food truck in town. For the past several years I have begun my day by walking for exercise. I take several different routes but one of my favorites is around the lake at the city park. It was there I met Bubba the goose (for past readers he said to tell you hi), saw the power of integration in the goose families (they are doing fine), saw a man waging a war with people I could not see, and saw the new food truck in town. Let me explain.

We walkers see two kinds of exercisers. Some people come and go and some are regular as clockwork, they show up to walk each day. Like Forest Gump they start running—or walking—and just don’t stop. These folks become unofficial friends. We may not know each other’s names, what we do for a living or where the other person lives but for those few minutes at the park our lives intersect. And then, there’s the “food truck.”

She loves dogs and really animals. She walks her dogs every day in the park…and there are several. But what is interesting is that for a long time there was a cat walking with her. I mean a lot of people walk dogs, but a cat? The feline wasn’t on a leash but would just quietly walk behind her and the dogs. Talk about intriguing. So after a while I just had to talk with her. It turns out it wasn’t her cat at all. She met the cat one day while walking and it looked a little thin so she started dropping some dry cat food on the sidewalk and …well the cat had breakfast and hung around for dessert. There was a new “food truck” in town.

Sadly, one day our feline friend wasn’t there and I learned that he was hit by a car and didn’t survive. We mourned together…a lady I didn’t know losing a cat she didn’t own but we paused and grieved. But before long, there was another cat. I first saw him on the sidewalk about a block from the park and he was having breakfast on the sidewalk and I knew the “food truck” had been by. The relationship wasn’t as tight or as long but she had made a new friend by meeting a need.

Well, one day I was again walking in the park and ahead I saw several squirrels having breakfast. Yup, the “food truck” fed squirrels too. And then a few days later I saw several ducks gathered on the walking trail. Turns out ducks like cat food and they too were having breakfast. The “food truck” was a hit in the park and everyone was invited. But the funniest part was yet to happen.

So I am walking, and across the narrow lake I can see her walking her dog. Behind her is a group of ducks having breakfast. Then on my side of the lake there are three ducks and they are on the move. They are waddling as fast as their little legs would take them and they are quacking up a storm. Again, my duck is a little rusty but I believe they were saying, “Hey wait for us.” So huffing and puffing they waddle down a small peninsula and jump in. Paddling furiously they headed straight across the lake. Like kids chasing the ice cream truck they swam on. It was my last lap for the day but the last time I saw them they were on shore and hollering, “Wait, we’re coming.”

I don’t know my friend’s name but I do know her impact. Her acts of kindness to animals makes her a hit with them and with me. She just seems to care and really, besides this strange sort of fan club, gets no other reward. She just does what she thinks is the next right thing. I wonder how different our world would be if we did the same. Jesus did. The Book tells us that when He saw people—He didn’t see social class, He didn’t see color—He just saw people and He had compassion on them. He saw them as sheep without a shepherd or maybe like ducks needing breakfast.

Compassion is best defined as simply love in action. Its seeing a need and then doing what you can to meet that need. Imagine today taking the time to show kindness to someone having a difficult day. Imagine today taking the time to give someone a smile when they are only used to frowns. Imagine today doing simply the next right thing—without reward, without expectation—simply because it is the right thing to do. It might just be amazing. It might just look crazy…like a cat following a lady walking her dog. It might just be game changing.

In a few minutes, I’m going to do my walking thing. I don’t have any cat food. In fact my shorts don’t even have pockets but I can pack an intentional smile for someone who needs one. I can do that. Sometimes Jesus gave out free lunches to crowds—big crowds. Sometimes He healed broken bodies and spirits. But something that I think we overlook is that He probably smiled…a lot. Imagine His joy as He shared and showed compassion—love in action. Like the cat, like the ducks following the “food truck” people followed Him. Not just for the bread, though some did, but because around Him they felt safe. They felt loved. They found a place where they could rest from the craziness of life. We can too. He’s got this.

Family, life, Scripture, travel

Consistently Inconsistent

Posted on June 22, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.” Hebrews 13:8

It was a learning experience. Well, it finally happened. Judy and I were able to get away and break away from home. The long awaited opportunity to go somewhere finally emerged from the corona virus fog. After church Sunday we loaded up our car and headed on the great adventure. Soon, the routine of the last several months was in the rearview mirror and we were looking out the windshield at different. The only problem was that different turned out to look a lot like home.

Our journey would take us through three states…Kentucky, Tennessee, and North Carolina. The one thing I quickly discovered is the fact that consistently, and I do mean consistently, everything was inconsistent. Now I have to admit we didn’t have a lot of interaction with Kentucky. Going we were just getting started and coming we were almost home. However, Kentucky had already become our get away place when we wanted to run away from home.

Our first stop in the journey was in Tennessee. We stayed in Pigeon Forge for three nights just to catch our breath. We arrived at our hotel which was a Hilton Tru. It was a new branding for Hilton and was designed to reach out to millennials. Ok, if there was a doubt, I discovered I am not one. The hotel boasted that the rooms were intentionally spartan and smaller. I am more the bigger and plush kinda guy. And then there were the corona differences.

So, the first day, no one came to clean our room. Well, obviously somehow, we were skipped. I stopped by the front desk to let them know of the oversight. She, politely, told me it was not an oversight but intentional. What? “Didn’t you read the little card” she asked? Well, no…we had got in late the night before and I am a guy. Do I look like I read little cards? Anyway, the little card said they would not be cleaning our room until we checked out and that if I wanted fresh towels I needed to ask for them at the from desk. What? Excuse me? Oh, and breakfast was scaled back to a yogurt bread (whatever that is) and a breakfast cereal bar…all courtesy of the corona virus. Of course all this was ok because they there able to cut the price on the room with all the money they saved from not cleaning our room or serving us breakfast. Not! No! Nada! That will be full price, sir, and thanks for staying.

And then there were the restaurants. One was operating at full capacity, one at 50%, one at 25%. All the fast food chains were still drive-in only. It felt amazingly like home. We went to one restaurant with about seven cars in their large parking lot. “Oh good, no wait” I said. “Not so” Judy said. Sorry, there will be a 25 minute wait. So three days later, I went into the largely empty restaurant and discovered anew the joy of social distancing. I had to communicate with the closest table with smoke signals. All of this was from an open state. Yup…consistently inconsistent.

Well we moved on to North Carolina…a largely closed state. We checked into our hotel, a Holiday Inn, and I tentatively asked the polite desk person about what restrictions might be in place. “Will you be cleaning our room?” I asked. She gave me a quizzical look and said, “Why yes, of course.” “Do we get clean towels by any chance?” I asked. Her look said “This guy must be from Mars. Of course we will be providing towels.” So the closed state acted like an open state and the open state acted like a closed state and I am slowly going crazy. Our meals were provided at the conference we were attending so we didn’t try any off-campus restaurants. But Judy did want to go to a couple of boutiques. In case you are wondering, boutiques are little stores with big prices. Anyway, most were simply closed and the few she (and notice she) went in required masks to shop in their empty shops. Oh the bliss of being consistently inconsistent.

I am a guy of routine. I love consistency so you can imagine this was quite a challenge for me. It amazes me how the rules are always different in this corona world and the enforcement of those rules are also different. And that is why I like God. He is the Rock of Gibraltar when it comes to consistency. The Word says that Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever. The Jesus you have today is the one you will have ten thousand years from now. The love you have from God today will be the love you have tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. As a song says His love is “sure as a steady rain.” I like that.

If you are just a little tentative about this consistently inconsistent world I have a great recommendation. Try God. He doesn’t change the rules midstream, He won’t change His mind about you tomorrow and His Book remains the constant of constants. Rock solid…that is God. We had a great time on our trip and I came back realizing that the crazy rules aren’t just in Illinois. We found a pretty fair sprinkling of them everywhere. I also came home with a deep appreciation for my island of normalcy…my family and my church family. Both groups are a bit crazy at times, but they are mine and I feel secure around them both. I came home and found the God on the road was the same God at 217 W. Poplar Street and I can rest in Him at both places and all places. I also found that the God on the road was big enough to handle it all. He’s got this.

Family, Father's Day, Grace, gratitude, life

Daddy

Posted on June 19, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

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 mom had tried seven times to have the perfect child. He went to my mom 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 a 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 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 dad 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 super hero…and because of that, He’s got this.

Grace, gratitude, life, Scripture, thankful, travel, wisdom

We Shouldn’t Be Here

Posted on June 18, 2020June 18, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

If you keep quiet at a time like this, deliverance and relief for the Jews will arise from some other place, but you and your relatives will die. Who knows if perhaps you were made queen for just such a time as this?” Esther 4:14

I looked at Judy and said, “We shouldn’t be here.” I know when you normally hear those words you are at a movie and a couple of teenagers are standing in a cemetery at midnight with a full moon with a wolf howling and a guy with a chainsaw standing a few feet away. That was not the case.

So, as you know we live in a world of cancellations. Vacation. Cancelled. Conference number one. Cancelled. Conference number two. Cancelled. In an attempt to get some refreshment I went ahead and registered for conference number three. About ten days before it started they called and said due to state regulations (North Carolina this time) they were having to dramatically reduce the number of attendees—from 400 to 110. Judy and I didn’t make the cut…by a long shot. We registered in early April and they were cancelling all the way back to December of 2019.

I had gotten used to the rejection notices by now. Like a struggling actor or writer it seemed nothing was going my way. So, after my normal foot stomping, “this is crazy” and the all time favorite, “when will it ever be normal” I settled back into life…desperately needing a fresh drink of water from the well. Then it happened.

Less than a week before the conference was to start I received a phone call on my Dick Tracy Apple watch. I checked the caller ID and it was the conference center. I ran to the kitchen to get my phone, answered, waiting to see what they wanted. She told me that they had been allowed to open an overflow room and would we be interested in coming? If I could speak ten languages I would have said yes in all ten.

So we arrived at the conference and this is when it got interesting. The people in the main auditorium (and there were only 110 of them—normal attendance is 400) had white name tags and the ones in the overflow had tan name tags. We received our tan tags and waited for supper. I began to notice that there were not many tan tags. How interesting. When it was time for the conference to start, the white taggers headed to the main room and tan taggers headed upstairs to the overflow area. And that was the turning point.

In this room meant to hold 150 people there were 28 of us. Blue covers draped over the back of 28 chairs showed where we could sit. It turns out I was member of a pretty, small select group. Totally attendance was only 138 people and somehow I was one of them. Keep in mind all those people who made reservations before April were in front of me in line and somehow, some way we were here. That’s when I said to Judy, “We shouldn’t be here.”

The topic for the conference was about rebuilding the church in a post quarantine world. One of the first things he said was that perhaps each of you are here for a specific reason. He then told the story of a young Jewish girl who, against all odds, found herself as queen in a foreign land. A plan had been hatched to kill all of the Jews in the land and her uncle was asking her to go the king on the Jews behalf. He said, “Perhaps for such a time as this God has put you here.” For such a time as this. Hmmm.

I honestly feel that for some reason God has allowed me this opportunity to help lead my church in the coming days. The speaker made it clear that any thought that things are going to be same are just not true. It is going to be different and challenging. It is also exciting. All of this has caused me to revisit the sovereignty of God in all of this. I mean, I just believe that God is in charge. Not circumstances, not government, not me. That means that He does have a plan that He is working out. The only question is are we going to trust Him and be a part of His plan or are we going to write our own. Spoiler alert. That never goes well.

So whether it your every day, walk around life, or a business, or a church, if you are a Jesus follower, are you willing to let the Whisperer whisper and share with you His plan? I hope I will have the wisdom and courage to do so. It will mean stepping out of my “I’ve done it this way for 38 years” comfort zone and perhaps, just perhaps, do something different…perhaps radically different. Who knows, maybe we, with Him, can change our world. So, we shouldn’t be here but I sure am going to be listening for the Whisperer to speak to my heart. I know it will be right. I know it will be challenging. I know it will be exciting. I know somewhere along the way He is going to say, “Rest in Me. I’ve got this.” He does.

Family, food, life, Scripture, thankful

Miss Pauline’s Sour Cream Raisin Pie

Posted on June 17, 2020June 17, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

Taste and see that the Lord is good. Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in him!” Psalm 34:7

Try it. You’ll like it. Over the years I have met so many incredible people. I have learned that people are not perfect but people add spice and challenge to life. People make life…life. I am a pastor by call and by trade and I love it. There are many reasons that is true but one is the people I get to serve with. One of those was Bob. Bob is a friend from my past but at the same time Bob is a friend that I could see tomorrow and we would pick up right where we left off.

Bob is one of those people with a quirky sense of humor. I love that because I do too. I remember one time he showed up at the church office and beeped the horn. I went and opened the door and went out. He told me to come around to the other side of the truck and hop in. Well, I went and opened the door and what greeted me was a five or six foot rattlesnake coiled up on the from seat. We almost had a natural disaster there on the spot. Turned out the snake was headless. Bob liked snakes so I don’t think he did the honors but why miss the opportunity to scare your pastor to death?

Now Bob and I are Baptists. One thing you need to know about Baptists is that we believe food is the cure all for all things. If we are sad—we eat. If we are happy—we eat. If someone dies—we eat. If someone gets married—we eat. And sometimes, well, we just eat for fun. Well, Bob and I were at one of our meetin’ eatin’ times and I was eating some raisin pie. Now this wasn’t your normal raisin pie. This was Miss Pauline’s sour cream raisin pie and it was incredible. I was working on my second piece when I invited Bob to have a taste.

“Nope,” he said, “I don’t like raisin pie.” Well I began to persuade him with all of my preacher passion. “This,” I explained, “is like no other raisin pie you have ever eaten.” I went on to explain how this pie would make your tongue slap your face. So after about five minutes of “you really need to try this,” he did. The results were as expected and immediate. Two or three pieces later Bob was an official member of the Miss Pauline’s sour cream raisin pie fan club.

Here is what he and I came to discover. There is raisin pie and there is Miss Pauline’s sour cream raisin pie and the two are not the same. And once I tasted Miss Pauline’s pie, I wanted him to experience it too. I just knew that if he did, he would be a fan for life. And do you know what? I think that is true about Jesus too. I find a lot of people are not too keen on God or Jesus. The reason is simple. They have tasted religion and decided pretty quick that wasn’t too tasty. I agree with that one. Some have tasted church and depending on their experience it was either a disaster or a delight. At any rate, church isn’t the fix all that people think that it is. Religion or church are just plain ole raisin pie. You need more…you need Jesus.

Yup, Jesus is like Miss Pauline’s raisin pie. He is so much more than religion and so much more than church…He is the One who knew the price for sin was death and then willingly paid the price for that sin. He died on a Roman cross to pay the price for our sin and then came back to life three days later to prove He was the Son of God. It is a pretty amazing story. If you have never read about it let me suggest you get a copy of the Bible read about Him. You will find Him in the first four books of the New Testament. You will find He is like sour cream raisin pie…delicious and irresistible. But you can’t know that if you don’t take a taste.

David (he is one of the Kings of Israel from Bible times) was on the run from one of his enemies when he wrote, “Oh taste and see that the Lord is good. Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in him!” David was saying if you will take just one taste of the real deal you will like what you taste. Its not religion, its not church—it is the Man who died on the cross because He loved me and you.

So, if you ever get the chance to taste sour cream raisin pie, especially if somehow you can find a piece of Miss Pauline’s, well don’t wait and don’t delay. Even if, especially if, you have tried plain ole raisin pie you are gonna be surprised! And if you haven’t read the story of Jesus, well don’t wait and and don’t delay. Even if, especially if, you have been turned off by church and religion, you are gonna be surprised. You are gonna find out that He is the real deal. You are gonna find out when and if you decide to follow Him, He will be your new BFF (best friend forever) and He will never leave you sitting beside the road. He is the kind of friend that you can call at 2:00 am and never get a busy signal. He is the kind of friend who invites you to sit and chat on the front porch and rest a while. He is the kind of friend that is like a strong, big brother who loves you. Strong enough to say, “I’ve got this” and pull it off. Try Him…You’ll love Him.