Grits with Grace

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, USA, wisdom

December 7th

Posted on December 7, 2020December 6, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

If a house is divided against itself, that house cannot stand.” Mark 3:25

December 7th. A day that will live in infinity.” Though it was before my time I know the story well. It was a beautiful morning in Pearl Harbor. Those who weren’t painting the ships or swabbing the decks of the powerful U.S. Navy Pacific Fleet were home enjoying a round of golf or a tropical breakfast. And then, at 7:55 in the morning local time, without warning or provocation, bombers, fighters, and torpedo bombers of the Imperial Japanese Navy swept in. They began to systematically destroy the American fleet and its supporting aircraft. That morning thousands of sailors and civilians lost their lives and thousands more were wounded. Over eleven hundred sailors died instantly when a single bomb hit the ammunition magazine on the battleship Arizona.

In a hour and fifteen minutes the attack was over and the United States was drawn into a global war. The nation had long been divided over what role the United States should take in the war that raged in Europe. That was all settled when, after the attack, Japan declared war on America and Hitler as an ally of Japan did the same. Like it or not, the United States was embroiled in a war that would last for almost four years and cost the lives of 407,316 Americans with another 671,278 wounded. But by the grace of Almighty God, in the end, America and her Allies were victorious in defeating the tyranny of the fascist governments.

Thirty-eight percent of those who served were volunteers and sixty-one percent were drafted. The average enlisted person was paid $71.00 per month while the average officer was paid $203. Drafted or volunteer, officer or enlisted, they were all willing to put their lives on the line for the cause of freedom and the cause of defeating countries bent on oppressing those weaker than they. Many valuable lessons were learned during that time—lessons that we must not forget.

First, is the power of unity. Before the Pearl Harbor attack the nation was clearly divided over the war. After the attack, the nation pulled together on a unified front to protect and defend—first the United States, and second, the millions of innocent people being oppressed by Germany, Japan, and Italy. It is tragic that it took a Pearl Harbor to bring the nation together, but if America had entered the war divided the outcome would have been much different. Today, we need to understand that it is time to come together again. We have allowed a virus named COVID-19, a contested national election, and blatant racism to divide our country. Jesus said that a house divided against itself cannot stand. Neither can families. Neither can churches. We must come together or we will fall together.

Second, is the power of owning it. As in any national tragedy, the event happens and almost immediately the finger pointing begins. Pick the historical event and the pattern is sadly the name. Political parties and even ordinary, everyday people will use a tragedy to promote their cause. We have seen it on the national front. We have seen it on the local front. We have seen it in the churches. It is not a time to point fingers, but rather a time to rise to help solve what is broken. Seventy-nine years ago today, December 7, America rose to the challenge. I wonder if we will have the wisdom to do the same today?

Last, is the power of wisdom. There is not much debate that storm clouds were gathering in the days leading up to December 7th. Some would say that there was blatant evidence that an attack was coming. Sadly, those warning signs were largely ignored and the cost was horrendous. Today, right now, there is something we need to remember. There is one enemy and it is not our neighbor, not our brother or sister in church, and not even the person who belongs to another political party. The enemy is Satan, who wants nothing more than to destroy us. Jesus said, “The thief comes to steal, kill and destroy.” It was true when He said it…it is true today. The second part of that verse is filled with hope. Jesus said, “I have come that you might have life and have it more abundantly.”

You see, God is for us. He is very aware of Satan’s tricks and schemes and He wants us to be victorious over him. That is what Christmas and Easter were all about. God became flesh and lived among us and then ultimately and deliberately died on a Roman cross that all people, regardless of nationality, race or economic station, could be forgiven and have eternal life. With the wisdom of God, we don’t have to have a “spiritual” Pearl Harbor. With God’s help we can come together. With God’s help we can be victorious.

You see, it’s not about religion. It is about a relationship with the God who made it all. And with the relationship comes hope, comes peace, comes forgiveness, comes unity. If we are wise enough to believe what God says, and act on what He teaches, our best days won’t be in the rearview mirror but rather ahead. So this Christmas season, let the Prince of Peace bring His peace into your world. Rest in Him. He’s got this.

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, thankful, wisdom

Anyone Seen Baby Sarah?

Posted on December 4, 2020December 3, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.” Proverbs 22:6

It was one of the scariest times in our lives. As a pastor and family, Sunday has always been a crazy time for the Taylors and one of the busiest days of the week. And, when things get busy, and crazy, well something strange, and perhaps scary, is bound to happen. And one day it did. I was pastoring at Cobden First Baptist and had been there for seven or eight years. When we arrived we had two daughters and when we left we had three. Our third daughter, who was affectionally called by many, Baby Sarah, came along in 1989. Fast forward about four years. Before I go any further, please know that the statute of limitations has expired for child neglect.

Judy and I always drove separately to church. We had two morning services and since I was the preacher, I got to go to both of them. We had two great services and while it wasn’t unusual to do something with one of the families after church, that day we just went home. Judy got home before I did and I showed up a little later. We started decompressing and getting ready for lunch when someone asked, “Where’s Sarah?” I looked at Judy and Judy looked at me. I thought she had Baby Sarah and she thought I had Baby Sarah. It quickly became apparent that no one had Baby Sarah. Crisis on steroids.

We jumped in our car and literally raced over to the church. No Baby Sarah. One of our best friends lived almost across the street from the church. Their daughter was Sarah’s best friend. Maybe she was there. It was locked up. No Baby Sarah. Needless to say we were in a panic. Someone told us they thought that our friends had gone out to eat at a restaurant that was several miles out of town. We thought maybe they had taken Baby Sarah with them and forgot to tell us. That wasn’t the case. We lived halfway up a steep hill and as we were in the front yard, trying not to panic, we saw a small figure running towards our house. Her long blonde hair was flying in the wind and she looked exhausted. It was Baby Sarah coming home.

So, here’s what happened. Our friends had some new kittens. Maggie, Baby Sarah’s best friend, asked her to come see the kittens. So they went to Maggie’s house, across the street from the church to see the new arrivals. Maggie’s parents, not knowing Baby Sarah was with Maggie, hollered for Maggie to come down so they could go out and eat. Baby Sarah stayed put. After a few minutes she realized she was all alone in the house. She somehow managed to get their door unlocked and opened and she started towards our house which was about a mile away. Now Cobden was a small town, but getting to our house from the church involved going over a railroad crossing and a pretty busy road. Baby Sarah managed to navigate all of that and find her way home. Remember, she was only four or so.

Back to the story. When we got to her she was beet red from the heat and barefoot because she left her shoes at Maggie’s. Her toes were bleeding from the rough pavement. Amazingly, other than that, she was fine. It was quite the reunion and we were so grateful to have her back. We learned a very valuable lesson that day—count the kids when you leave the house for church and more importantly, count the kids when you head back home. The bottom line? It was just one of those things that can happen if a couple of details are missed. In this case one of the details was Baby Sarah.

So, besides counting your kids, what is to be learned from this scary tale? Well, it is obvious but it isn’t. The big question is, “How did Baby Sarah know how to get home?” How did she know how to safely navigate the railroad tracks and the busy street? The answer is this. In the course of everyday life, we had driven, but more importantly walked that path many times. Time after time, hand in hand, she had walked with her mother and sisters so that when she had to do it alone…she could…she did. That wasn’t our intended lesson but it was a very valuable lesson indeed.

Moms and dads and others who have a role in molding and shaping others—remember this—we are teaching whether we know it or not. Our everyday routines are being imprinted on young hearts and minds. And someday, when you least expect it, those imprints will become very, very important. The Bible talks about training up a child in the way they should be so that when they are older they will know the way. That was true for Baby Sarah that day in a practical way. But trust me, it is true every day in ways that we may not see coming.

Because Baby Sarah was prepared that day to walk a path by herself, this story has a good ending. It is one of our favorite stories though it still causes us to shudder. I believe there is another reason why Baby Sarah made it home that day. I believe our Dearest Daddy was watching over her. And the truth is that no matter what or how the story ends, I’m learning that I can trust Him and rest in Him. I’m learning that even in life’s scariest moments—like the ones we are living in right now—we can know that He’s got this. Always has…always will.

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, life, Military memories, prayer, Scripture, wisdom

Lawbreaker

Posted on December 3, 2020December 2, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

The Spirit is the One who gives life. The flesh doesn’t help at all. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and are life.” John 6:63

“Breach your weapons, lay them on the ground and put your hands on your head.” Fifteen words I didn’t think I would ever hear. As I’ve said before I was raised in Jacksonville, Florida. We lived out in the country and would often go hunting not too far from my home. We would also go shooting. What is shooting? Well, that is when you go somewhere and just waste ammunition. There was an old dump about four miles from my house and that was a favorite place to go shoot. There was an abundance of old bottles and cans there just waiting to give up the ghost.

When I was about nineteen, and in the Air Force, a couple of friends (who were in the Navy) decided to go shooting. We got in our cars and went to the old dump and preceded to start what sounded like World War III. We had rifles and shotguns and we were blasting away. Cans were flying and bottles were shattering and then without trying we all happened to empty our guns at the same time. There was a moment of silence and then we heard it.

It was that static noise when someone mashes the button on a public address system before beginning to speak. It was then that we heard those fifteen words—which I still remember to this day even though it was 48 years ago, “Breach your weapons, lay them on the ground and put your hands on your head.” Ok, two things almost happened at that moment. I almost died and I almost lost bladder control. I was scared to death. I had only been pulled over by the police once and I had never been arrested. I was certain that the Air Force would not like the fact that one of their ambassadors was arrested…especially on weapons charges.

So you have to be wondering, “What in the world was going? Didn’t you know better?” And the answer is “No.” You see, Jacksonville and Duval County had merged into one making it the largest city in the United States. That also meant that all the laws that applied to the city now applied to the county. Well, since it was against the law to discharge a weapon in the city limits, which now included the old dump, we were in deep weeds. You can imagine we did some tall explaining to the police officer. I am sure it included an appropriate amount of praying, begging and pleading. I imagine it also included the “we are serving our country” card too.

Well, somehow we got off the hook. I’m sure I explained that I was raised in the area and had gone shooting there a lot. I’m also sure I explained that we didn’t know about the law being changed. I’m also sure he said ignorance of the law was no excuse and made sure we understood that it had better never happen again. And do you know what? It didn’t. As far as my buddies and I were concerned, the old dump was safe and sound. At least this part of the Air Force and Navy were done.

I never forgot that lesson about ignorance of the law being no excuse. When I drive, and I am pretty much a rule follower, if I don’t know the speed limit, I settle at a speed that I know should be safely below what might be posted. I found out one time (and I’ll write about that another time) that it costs to break the law. And sometimes it can be pretty pricey. That is true for man’s law but it is also true for God’s laws.

You see, at one time or another, we have all broken one or more and probably many of God’s laws. We are just a rebellious bunch and there really is no excuse. We just sorta, kinda, like breaking laws. The Bible even says that. But here’s the deal—we forget one thing about laws. Generally speaking, laws are there for a reason—our protection. There is a reason why the speed limit isn’t 120 mph. There is a reason why you should wear your seatbelt. There is a reason why you shouldn’t jump from a cliff that says, “rocks below.” They are all there to keep you within the guardrails of life. I know, we think laws are there to make us miserable, and maybe that is true for the laws of man. But when it comes to God—well, obeying His laws means less regrets and fewer consequences. It means a better life.

Well, if you happen to be traveling through Duval County in Northeast Florida and you have the urge to go shooting…you might try a different county. Unless they changed their mind, it is still against the law. And if you find yourself being lured toward some moral disaster and away from what God says is right—breach your weapon, lay it on the ground and raise your hands in surrender. Not to a policeman, but to the God who loves you enough to help you get through life—with less regrets and fewer consequences. It might seem hard but if you choose to rest in Him you will find out that all things are possible. Yup…He’s got that too.

Family, Grace, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, wisdom

Bubble Gum Toothpaste

Posted on December 2, 2020December 1, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

Before daybreak the next morning, Jesus got up and went out to an isolated place to pray.” Mark 1:35

Something just wasn’t right. You know you never know what you are going to get when you go stay with someone. From the bed to what’s for breakfast, well, it’s all up for grabs. That is especially true when it comes time to shower. I’ve learned you just have to be flexible. Sharing the house with my wife, three daughters and a girl dog meant that things could get pretty girly.

Since I am a man, I used to be used to man soap. It might be whatever was on sale or it could even be Lava—that soap that grinds off the first layer of your skin. One thing was for sure—it didn’t smell like a girl. Then came all these women in my household and the advent of body wash. It wasn’t long before the Lava, he-man soap was replaced with something that smelled like roses or gardenias. This really caused a problem when you walk into the office and smell like a garden. The guys on staff kinda give you a strange look.

But here is the deal. It didn’t stop with just the soap or even the shampoo. It got down to the toothpaste. Oh, it wasn’t that it tasted like flowers…it tasted like bubblegum. Judy and I were recently spending the night with our daughter and son-in-law and their kids…a couple of my grandkids. So, anyway, I survived the sweet smelling soap and shampoo only to discover that I had ran out of toothpaste. I looked around and gratefully found a tube on the vanity. I didn’t read the label past the part that said, “toothpaste.”

I squirted a glob on my he-man electric toothbrush and proceeded to give my teeth the once over. About two seconds in the process I realized that this toothpaste tasted different. You see, I am old-fashioned. I believe that toothpaste should taste like peppermint on steroids. You know, the kind that when you are done you know you don’t have bad breath. And, by the way, mouthwash has to be the same. I like to take a swig of Listerine and swish it around as long as I can stand it before gratefully spitting it out. Well, that day was not like any of that.

As I brushed I realized this toothpaste was sweet and gooey. It took me a moment before I could place the taste and then it hit me. It was bubble gum. Now, excuse me, but who ever heard of bubble gum toothpaste? I thought the whole point of this process was to clean your teeth not birth a desire to blow bubbles. What is the world coming to? Well, anyway, there was no other option so I finished up. I went out into the kitchen still kinda feeling around in my mouth with my tongue. Something just didn’t feel right and then it hit me. It just didn’t feel clean…and I told Judy so. I knew I had brushed my teeth but it didn’t feel like I had brushed my teeth.

You know, and this probably seems weird, but that is sometimes how I feel after another of my morning habits—my quiet time. A quiet time is when you get by yourself, read God’s Book, the Bible, maybe read what someone else wrote about God and then talk to God. It’s God time to kinda get you ready for the day. I know it is a good idea because Jesus did it. More than once in the Bible we are told He got up early and went out by himself and prayed. I figure if it worked for Him, it will certainly work for me.

Now there are some days I know that what I read stuck. I know that when I prayed that even though I couldn’t see God—I knew He was listening. But then there are the “bubble gum” days. Days when I read and don’t remember and pray and feel like my prayers were just circling the ceiling fan. Oh I “brushed” but it just didn’t feel like it. Just like bubble gum toothpaste. Hmmm.

I know that if you want minty—well, you have to go get some minty toothpaste. All the sweet gooey toothpaste in the world just won’t get the job done. And if I want to have a God time that is going to make a difference…it has to be intentional. Not just a habit but a special time with my Heavenly Father…the One who loves me no matter what—the One who patiently waits for me…the One whose grace leaves me fresh and spiritually minty! So, why not mark your calendar for some time tomorrow when you can meet with the One who loves you the most. Take a moment to rest in Him and know that “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Family, food, life

Fish and Spaghetti

Posted on December 1, 2020November 30, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

There is one God and one Mediator who can reconcile God and humanity—the Man Christ Jesus. He gave his life to purchase freedom for everyone.” 1 Timothy 2:5-6a

No really…it is good. I’m a food mixer. I know some people love to keep their food separate on their plates and some folks even eat one item at a time. They will eat all their meat, all their potatoes and so on and so on. Not me. I like to to mix it up a little. In fact the best bite on the plate is always the last bite. It always has a little bit of everything on the plate. First you scrape it all together in a tidy little pile, scoop it on your fork and let it fly. Awesome.

I’m not sure how it started but one of my absolute favorite mixings is tartar sauce and Heinz Ketchup. When I order fish I always squirt a big puddle of ketchup on my plate and then mix in a helping of tartar sauce. Then you take your fork and stir it together and start dipping your fish in this magic pink sauce. All I can say is, if you haven’t tried it you need to. Not too long ago a server at a restaurant noticed my strange concoction. Without saying anything to me, she went back to the kitchen and stirred up a batch. She was soon back at my table singing the praises of the power of “pink.”

They say that things go better with Coke and fish, all kinds of fish, go better with pink. But…there is one exception. Fish and spaghetti. Ever heard of it? Well, not only have I heard of it, I have had it several times. In fact, Lord willing, tomorrow night I will be sitting down to fish and spaghetti. Now first, you need to understand it is not fish cooked in spaghetti, rather it is fish served with spaghetti. I learned of this food miracle a while back. A couple that attends our church invited my wife Judy and I over for supper. We were served fish and spaghetti and it was incredible.

To be sure this dynamic combo is not an accident. First, David is the fish cooker and the man takes frying fish to a new level. Moist and crisp at the same time…it is “shoot that thang” good. Second, Lisa makes some of the best spaghetti I have ever eaten. It is seasoned perfectly and has just a slightly different flavor then most spaghetti I have had. I fell in love that night. I am a fish and spaghetti man for life.

David is an African American and when we were discussing this duet, he assured me it was a “black thing.” I had never heard of these two things together before and he told me to ask someone…so I did. I asked another friend of mine who happens to also be African American, “So what do you eat with spaghetti?” She quickly replied, “Fish.” There you go. I have been a comfort food fanatic for over six decades and almost missed this food wonder. It is almost a food group all of its on.

Things are like that sometimes. Sometimes certain things just click together. It is as if they were meant to be together. Peanut butter and jelly. Chocolate and peanut butter. Cheese and summer sausage. Well, add fish and spaghetti to the list. And while you are listing—be sure and add Jesus and you. I have been a Jesus follower since 1975 and I am telling you He took life to a whole different level. He makes the good even better and makes the difficult more than tolerable. He is amazing. And just like fish and spaghetti if you’ve never tried Him you don’t know what you are missing. He makes life worth living.

Now understand I’m not talking about you and religion, or you and church. A relationship with Jesus is totally different from church or religion. I like church and tolerate religion but neither one of them is even close to Jesus. He is literally One of a kind. The Bible says that there is One go-between who can bring God and us together and it is the man Christ Jesus. He gave His life to purchase freedom for everyone. I hope you will get a copy of His Book—the Bible—and read about Him this Christmas season. You will discover a Man like no other who loves you like no other. He is a best friend on steroids. I admit these are crazy days we are living in—you know it and I know it. I’ve found that Jesus adds stability, peace and hope to what can be a pretty difficult existence. With Him we go from surviving to thriving. All you need to do is believe. Believe that He is who He claims to be—the God man—believe that He died on a Roman cross to pay the price for your sin, believe He came back to life and believe that if you ask He will forgive you. I took Him at His word and He is everything He claims to be. He is the real deal. And, hey, when God is your best friend you can sleep better at night and rest better in during the day. When the God who made it all is your best friend—you can believe that He’s got this…and He does.

Family, food, forgiveness, Grace, life, loving others, Scripture, Thanksgiving, wisdom

Bring on the Gravy

Posted on November 30, 2020November 29, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that He lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding.” Ephesians 1:7-8

It can make good things better! Thanksgiving is disappearing quickly in the rearview mirror. Even in the COVID mess this year it was good to get together with family and rejoice and remember. I know from this side of the fence the Taylor cooks are off the scale good. Our menu, at least the one that lists the side dishes, is almost set in stone. Mac and cheese, sweet potato casserole, strawberry salad and other salads that makes you like salads, Apple pie…well you get the idea. There is one thing that plays a minor role at our Thanksgiving table…gravy.

Now I am a Southern boy and gravy was a big part of my eating life. Mama would regularly make both brown and white gravies for our supper and they were incredible. I remember one time I was reminded that you can have too much of a good thing. She had made a roast and one of the things I loved was to take two (one wouldn’t do) slices of bread and then smother, no drown, the bread in gravy. Well, one time it got me. I guess all the goodness in the gravy was too much and I got sick, real sick to my stomach. It wasn’t pretty.

Mama also made a great giblet gravy at Thanksgiving. She would take all those things that are tucked inside the turkey when you buy it, cut them up in tiny pieces and put them in her gravy. Yup…it was incredible. That’s when I began to learn the value of gravy. It could take the driest dressing (not my Mama’s mind you) and make it the best dressing in the world. It worked even better on leftovers. You go back later that afternoon, fill your plate for round two of the feast, warm up the gravy and let her fly. The dressing, the potatoes and the turkey all were reborn with a little gravy.

Gravy also can play the role of redeemer with biscuits. Now even the best biscuits almost always need a little help to become great. It might be a smothering of butter or butter and honey or syrup and good becomes great. By far the greatness soul mate of a biscuit is a flood of good sausage gravy. On my goodness—that combination is it’s own food group. Any good restaurant that serves breakfast is always sure to include that in its offerings. The bottom line is that gravy makes things better.

I know something else that does the same thing—even more so. That is grace. Grace is when we choose to extend something good to someone that doesn’t deserve it. It might be an act of kindness, a measure of forgiveness, or a kind word or two. As a pastor I know people have extended a measure of grace when they commented on some of my sermons. “Best sermon this year, preacher!” Well, truth be known it wasn’t that good—they were showing grace.

Now hear this. Just like a good gravy can make ordinary or less than extraordinary food taste incredible—grace can do the same thing. Families are stronger, relationships are better, teams at work are more productive when grace gravy is poured all over them. You know this COVID thing is fracturing relationships like crazy. It is dividing families, friends and, yes, churches. I think we need to pour some gravy—some grace—all over it. If we don’t, we are going to have some scars that will take a long time to heal. If that happens and when this thing is all over, we might be able to heal, but the scars will be forever visible.

If you are a Jesus follower then you should be a grace expert. You know that God extended grace, His unmerited favor, to you and forgave all your failures, sins, and warts. If you understand redemption correctly, you know you didn’t deserve it—He just did it because of His love for broken people. Grace makes the impossible possible. Grace, like a good gravy, can redeem the worse and restore the driest. God talks a whole lot about grace in His Book. I encourage you to Google it and be amazed at grace—God’s grace. It is so amazing they even wrote a song about. Perhaps you’ve heard it—Amazing Grace.

Sometimes when I order at a restaurant, I will order my gravy on the side. Let’s be honest—not every place can make good gravy. But when it comes to God’s grace don’t ever get it on the side. Just ask God to pour it on heavy—flood the plate of your life. The Book says that through faith in Jesus we have redemption through His death on the cross. When we believe that God forgives our sins through His grace then He lavishes it on us. Wow and bring on the gravy—bring on the grace. If your life is like a dry biscuit, take a break and ask God to pour on the grace. And if you are overwhelmed because of this COVID mess and its left you like so much dry turkey, ask God to pour on grace and you will soon be revived because…He’s got this.

Family, gratitude, life, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, USA, wisdom

Black Friday

Posted on November 27, 2020November 26, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

Rest in God alone, my soul, for my hope comes from Him.” Psalm 62:5

We stumbled into Black Friday. It was 1980. We had just returned from a three year tour in Germany while serving in the United States Air Force. It is amazing how things can change in three short years. We enjoyed our time in Germany immensely but it was so good to get back to the greatest country in the world…the USA. We were being assigned to Whiteman Air Force Base in Knob Noster, Missouri. No, I am not kidding. We quickly settled into the new version of our old life. See, you only thought “new normalcy” was something new!

We got back in the country in August and before we knew it, Thanksgiving was right around the corner. I don’t remember anything about Thanksgiving Day, but I sure do remember the day after. I was off on Friday and since Kansas City was only about 45 minutes away, we decided to drive into the city and go shopping. It sounded like a great idea. It probably was a great idea before we left for Germany in 1977, but things had changed. It was a new normal.

We got up on Friday, ate and headed into town. Visions of good deals and the excitement of the Christmas season were dancing in our heads. We picked our mall—there were several to choose from—and off we went. As we drove down the highway and neared the exit and the mall, much to our surprise there was traffic everywhere. The exit was jam packed and once we got into the parking lot we realized it was stuffed to the gills. We kept saying over and over again, “What in the world is going on?”

Well, I can’t remember if we gave up on that mall or not. I don’t remember finding a parking spot but I may have blocked it from my memory. We tend to do that with nightmares! Anyway, we headed to mall number two. It was much larger, with a very, large parking lot and plus by now the initial rush was slowing down some. After circling the area several times, we did manage to find a parking spot. Hey, what if it was ten miles from the mall? Smile.

We hiked to the mall and joined a sea of people as they weaved their way through the stores. It was about that time we finally asked someone, “So what is the deal with all the people? Why is everyone here?” It sounds almost humorous now, but we were sincerely in the dark. The clerk looked at us like we had just returned from the moon or something and I guess in that instance, we had. Apparently while we were in Germany this thing called “Black Friday” was either born or exploded. We had walked into a feeding frenzy of holiday madness. Since that time, it has taken on a life of its own. Stores that opened at crazy hours were now opening on Thanksgiving Day itself. People would storm the doors and fight for the right to get a good deal. But.Not.This.Year.

This year it is going to be different. Because of this year’s new normalcy, many stores that were open on Thanksgiving last year will be closed. Employees who last year had to work will now have time with their families. In the recent weeks leading up to Black Friday, stores have been offering, promising, Black Friday pricing for weeks and not for a day. That might just save someone’s life. Perhaps Friday morning will look more humane and not so much like the Allied troops storming the beaches at Normandy.

I know it is hard to find good things in bad days but maybe, just maybe, if we look hard enough, we might find that parts of the new normalcy will be a better normalcy. It seemed from the beginning that part of this COVID thing was a forced Sabbath. God tells us in His Word to rest in Him alone because all our hope should come from Him. It was like He said, “Enough is enough of this madness we call life. Slow down, already.” And, we have. Maybe this holiday season we will rediscover the blessings all around us. Maybe we will rediscover the wonder of a little Baby born in a feeding trough to save the world from the madness of sin. Maybe we will rediscover the value of family, of others, of generosity, of love. I hope so.

After my initial baptism into the fires of Black Friday I have not been much of a fan. I’ve never stood in line at the door, I’ve never fought someone for a deal, and I’ve never gotten up at 2:00 am to go shopping. But I have rushed through the holidays like a bull running the streets of Spain. Maybe this year I will slow down. Maybe you will too. Sound challenging? It is. But pressing the pause button is not a bad idea…especially if it causes us to rest next to our Dearest Daddy. And, especially if it causes me to realize…He’s got this.

Family, fear, food, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Military memories, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Thanksgiving, travel, wisdom

A Thanksgiving to Remember

Posted on November 26, 2020November 25, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and reaching forward to what is ahead…” Philippians 3:13

It was a Thanksgiving to remember. Throughout the years, Thanksgiving has been a big deal in our family. Growing up, it was a time when Mama would buy a huge turkey and cook it all night in the roaster oven that set by the stove for such an occasion. It was a time when pies were cooked, ambrosia was made, and giblet gravy simmered on the stove. It was a time for two kinds of dressing—cornbread and cornbread with oysters. I’m not sure where that came from, but it was pretty popular. Then, of course, it was a time when most everyone would come home, and we would feast—on good food and enjoy family.

When I graduated from high school and enlisted in the Air Force things had to change. My first duty station was about an hour from the Canadian border in a town called Minot—Minot, North Dakota. I arrived there in October and it was already too cold for a Florida boy. The holidays were looming ahead and it looked like Thanksgiving was going to be a solo flight. But then something happened. Somehow, remember this is long before cellphones, my brother Jimmy, who lived in Amarillo, Texas, called and invited me to his house for Thanksgiving.

Again, somehow, someway, it happened. My base pay of $320 per month didn’t allow for plane tickets, so it meant a trip to the credit union to see if I could get a loan. They granted it and I bought the ticket, got my leave approved and had someone haul me to the airport. So, like the song says, over the river and through the woods, I was on my way, not to grandmother’s house but my brother’s. I can remember flying down to Amarillo in that two engine, piston driven, plane feeling excited and afraid all at the same time. What in the world was I doing?

Soon enough, I was on the ground and there was my big brother and a couple of his kids waiting for me. The best I can remember he worked, maybe managed, a ranch of sorts. It seemed we drove a long way out into the Texas countryside before finally arriving at his house. The next day was Thanksgiving and it was so much like the one at home. We ate well and enjoyed good family fellowship. The thing that was so different was that in the past I was treated as the baby of the family—which I was. But that day—I was his peer. I was a man.

As much as I enjoyed Thanksgiving Day, the next couple of days were also awesome. We went jackrabbit hunting. It was cold with snow covering the ground, and we would jolt and bounce through the fields in his old Willis Jeep. Back at the house we drank hot coffee as he would spin tales about his time in the Air Force. Jimmy was always bigger than life and he was that day too. We also put up the Christmas tree while I was there. One of his favorite Christmas songs was Charlie Pride’s “Christmas in My Home Town.” We played it over and over again while I was there. To this day it is still one of my favorites.

Soon it was time for me to head back to the far north. We headed back to the airport and soon those piston engines were shaking and vibrating the old plane again as I flew back to Minot. I’ve had many good Thanksgivings over the years but that one stands out for me. It was a time when my brother made sure I wasn’t alone at a time when too many were. That was back in 1972 so a lot of water has flowed beneath the bridge. I’m decades older and he is now in heaven. But I am left with the memories…memories that still refresh my soul and make me smile.

To be honest, there are other Thanksgivings that were not so easy…times when another brother and his family were not on speaking terms with the family, times when Daddy was sick and times when the family went separate ways. But I have grown to realize that each of us have a choice. We can choose to remember and relish the good times, or we can remember and dwell on the hard times. The choice is ours. Paul, the guy who wrote about two-thirds of the New Testament in the Bible had plenty of hard memories. He was a pretty bad guy before he met Jesus. After Jesus, he began to write some new stories in his life and he made the decision to leave the past in the past. We should too.

I know holidays can be hard because of the past, or maybe the present. Let me encourage you to choose to remember the good and let go of the rest. It’s not easy but it is possible—with a little help from God. I know these days He’s getting a lot of bad press, but trust me, if you don’t know Him you should get acquainted. He loves you more than you know and He wants to help you do life here. He can even help with those difficult memories.

One of the things that is a staple of mine in life is to eat and nap. Today, Lord willing, I will eat a very good meal, and I will take a very nice nap. Try it—you’ll like it. Also today, I’m going to take a nap of sorts with my best friend Jesus. I’m going to pull aside, rest, and just chat about all the ways He has blessed me. It might take a while because I’m pretty blessed—and so are you. We also will probably talk about some of the hard things going on now. He won’t judge me—He will just love me. You know, that Thanksgiving so many years ago my brother treated me as his peer. Today Jesus treats me as a friend—a friend closer than a brother. He’s a friend that can handle my past and my future. A friend I can trust. That’s why I know…He’s got this.

Family, gratitude, life, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, wisdom

The Rock

Posted on November 25, 2020November 24, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights.” James 1:17

The Rock. If you talk to someone that has done “hard time” they will probably think you are talking about Alcatraz. If you talk to someone who likes action movies, they will probably think you are talking about Dewayne “The Rock” Johnson. But if you are talking to me or my wife Judy, then we will know you are talking about “the rock.” It’s a long story.

Judy and I met and fell in love in short order. I walked into her church one Wednesday night. I asked her out the next week and ever since then we have been a “we”. We were together as much as possible—we wanted to be together as much as possible. Since my Daddy had passed away that summer, Mama decided to spend Thanksgiving with my brother Joe up in the mountains, and I was invited to come join them. It was a deal because I really wanted to be with Judy, but I knew my place was with family and my Mama especially. So, I went. I told Judy I would miss her and I would bring her something back from the mountains.

Now I’m known for doing crazy things—it’s just me. While in the mountains I tried to think of something to take to Judy. It didn’t seem appropriate to take her a typical souvenir, so I got an idea. I would take her part of the mountains. I went out and found a rock. It was about the size of a pumpkin roll…elongated and was even orange with white stripes. As Thanksgiving rocks go…it was a pretty, good one. I washed it up and put it in the car. Game. Set. Match.

I’m sure in the book of love etiquette there is a chapter on what to bring your love when you go to the mountains. I am also sure if I had read that chapter a rock would not have made the cut. But hey, I was inexperienced. So I get back to Valdosta where I was stationed in the Air Force and where Judy lived. After the appropriate amount of hugs and kisses I presented her with her gift. She seemed thrilled and seemed to appreciate my thoughtfulness. Please note the word seemed.

Time goes by. We were married a while later and the rock made the trip from her parent’s house to our new apartment. We later received orders to Germany and the rock made the trip with us. When we came home from Germany and moved to our new duty assignment in Warrensburg, Missouri, the rock came with us. And on and on it went. To the home we built in Warrensburg, to the little parsonage in LaMonte, where I had my first full-time pastorate, to Cobden, Illinois where we pastored for 14 years. Finally, it came with us to Harrisburg. It was part of the family. It was more than a pet rock it was “the rock.”

About ten years ago, around 2010, somehow the topic of the rock came up. I was sharing how endeared I was to the rock—how important it was and then it happened. Judy told me she never liked the rock. She told me that she wasn’t thrilled all those years ago. She only pretended to be thrilled to make me happy. The bottom line was the rock was just a rock. Oh, the agony. Oh, the pain. Oh the “you’ve got to be kidding me.” Here I’ve been hauling this rock all over the world for nothing. I knew I should have gotten her one of those Smoky Mountain snow globes!

Well, like a pet who’s forgotten how to be potty trained, the rock was moved to the yard. It was still special to me, so it now sits on the grave of one of my favorite pets. Somehow that just seemed appropriate and if I were to move tomorrow—yes, the rock would go. If nothing else, it is a monument on what not to bring the girl you love from the mountains. I’m glad that God is better at gifts than I am. It seems—no, it more than seems, that He always gets it right.

He talks a lot about gifts in His Book. He loads us up day after day. Every sunrise and sunset is a gift. Every breath is a gift. Every fall leaf that floats to the ground full of color is a gift. We just have to look and recognize all that He gives us. James, one of Jesus’ half-brothers, wrote that every good gift, every perfect gift comes down from our Dearest Daddy. He just loves to shower us with His best and He does it again and again.

Well, it was no accident that I brought a souvenir rock home that year, it was no accident it was orange with white stripes, and it was no accident that it is still with us. In fact, the word souvenir is from the French, meaning “a memento, keepsake, or a token of remembrance which a person acquires for the memories the owner associates with it.” How about that! Still I guess it wasn’t the right gift for her on that day. Today though, it is the right motivation to remind us this year, above all years, to be grateful for a God, a Heavenly Father, who is oh so generous to His kids. Why not sit down today and make a list of all the things God has provided? Take your time…take a rest and when you are done…read the list to Him and say “thank-you, Father.” And then for all the things that are oh-so much bigger than you—for the things that just look like rocks, give them to Him because He’s got this.

Family, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

Destiny

Posted on November 24, 2020November 23, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

A joyful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit dries up the bones.” Proverbs 17:22

Luke, it’s your destiny”. Oh, I know, to a whole bunch of you that doesn’t make a bit of sense. It is a line taken from one of the Star Wars movies when Luke Skywalker, the ultimate good guy, learns that Darth Vader, the ultimate bad guy, is his father. He was saying that Luke was destined to be a bad guy because his dad was. Well old Darth Vader had a surprise coming. I’m glad that life is like that. Full of surprises.

All my life I have loved music. From the time when I was about 10 or 12 and my mother forced my sister to allow me to sing in her wedding, music has been a part of my DNA. To this day I love every kind of music —with only a few exceptions. One Christmas, Santa Claus bought my sister a chord organ and I would sit and mash the buttons making music. Later, when I joined the Air Force, my mother urged me to buy an organ and I did. I never learned more than three chords, but you would be amazed at how many songs you can play with those three chords—C, G, F.

Well, years later, after Judy and I were married, we bought a beautiful old piano. She could play well and I could play my three chords. For my birthday, she decided to give me piano lessons. I was genuinely excited. When music is in your soul, it is always satisfying to find ways to get it out. There was a wonderful lady (think saint) at the First Baptist Church of Warrensburg named Gerry Muchmore. Let’s just say she was a legend in her time at First Baptist. She could play the piano and organ like few could. She had retired from giving lessons by the time we came along, but somehow Judy talked her into giving me lessons.

I was so excited when I opened the card and read the words, “six months of piano lessons with Gerry Muchmore.” I couldn’t wait to get started. I just knew as much as I loved music and with one of the best teachers in the state, I would soon be playing the piano like a pro. Nothing was going to stop me. I had the will power, I had the passion, and I had fingers—even if they weren’t very long. Move over Liberace—here I come. But wait. It was about then, if I had been listening, a small voice was probably whispering something about destiny.

I was to meet with Mrs. Muchmore (with a teacher like her and my southern genes we were never on a first name basis) once a week. Every day I was to practice what I learned in preparation for the next lesson. Week one went well. Both our expectations were low since I only knew three chords. She bought me the beginner book and I played my fair share of “Three Blind Mice” also known as “Hot Cross Buns.” Soon it was time for lesson two. I think she was a little surprised at my progress or perhaps I should say my lack of it. I think something was mentioned about practicing. I assured her I had been faithfully practicing and she suggested I might want to practice a bit more.

Unfortunately, week three was much like week two. Try as I may, those stubby little fingers were just not cooperating. Add to that my total lack of rhythm genes and it wasn’t promising. I pressed on, practicing, and dreaming of my days of musical bliss. Then came week four. At the conclusion of our lesson that day, my piano idol looked at me and said, “Dewayne, there are some people in the world who are destined not to play the piano. You are one of those.” She spoke the words gently and kindly but firmly. It was game over—I was not going to be a threat to Liberace after all.

Now in case you’re wondering, it didn’t wound my heart too deeply. I actually appreciated her candor and frankly, I wasn’t into all that practicing anyway. I mean I still had my three chords. So many years later, I still love music, I still love to sing, and I still enjoy it when someone can play an instrument well. Perhaps it is their destiny—it just wasn’t mine. It is a lesson I’m still working on today. I’ve discovered that there are some things that I can do pretty well, and there are some things that are best left undone in my life. I’m learning that just because I can’t rip up a keyboard doesn’t make me any less a person than one who does. It simply means that’s not my gift.

If we go through life always envious of what other people have or what they can do, we will only end up jealous and bitter. If we learn to appreciate what other people have or what they can do, we end up richer in character with a deeper appreciation of life. I wonder if that is what the writer of Proverbs had in mind when he wrote, “A joyful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit dries up the bones.” I think it is. God is pretty keen on us just the way He made us. He is your biggest fan. We sang a song in church Sunday that had four profound words in it—He is for you. And do you know what? He is.

So, I still have my three chords—C, F, and G. I still occasionally (though not frequently) sit down and bang out an old song that requires only those three chords. The rhythm is never quite right, but that’s ok. It still helps some of that pent-up music to ooze out. I want to encourage you do the same. Find something you love, that’s deep in your soul and let it ooze out. It’s good medicine. By the way, if you are a Jesus follower, it’s always good to let Him ooze out too. Why not take a seat, take a rest and strike up a song with the One created it all. The two of you make a great duet. And if you hit a wrong key or two…that’s fine because…He’s got this.