Category: Family

Posted in Family, food, life, money, school days, Scripture

Penny Candy

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead.” Philippians 3:13

A while back I was walking in the Sam’s parking lot heading to, you guessed it, Sam’s to get a couple of items.  As I was walking along, I saw something shiny and guess what? It was a quarter.  Now, I am a coin picker upper.  Every coin, from a penny to whatever, usually ends up in my pocket.  I must admit sometimes pennies don’t make the cut but an example from my past usually causes me to pause and bend down.  I had a good friend named Andy at Cobden, one of my previous pastorates. He is the one that taught me not to pass up any coin so in honor of him…I usually stop and bend down.

Well, back at Sam’s, on that particular day, my treasure was a quarter.  First, I know, it may have had some germs on it but hey…what money doesn’t?  And second, a quarter doesn’t sound like much, but I remember a time when it was a whole lot.  That is the reason Andy probably never passed up anything. He, too, could remember a time.

You see, when I was a kid, we would walk along the road, not to pick up cans but coke bottles (understand that any bottle that held a soft drink was called a coke bottle). Each bottle was worth a whopping two cents.  We would walk looking for bottles and when our hands were full or we were tired, we would head straight to the store.

My favorite was Owen’s Small Engine Repair.  He always kept a great selection of penny candy.  Now this was the good stuff…quite the bargain. So, we could take our bottles and for each bottle walk out with two pieces of the good stuff. When I found that quarter laying in the parking lot, I imagined twelve and a half bottles—a bonanza back in the day. Twenty-five pieces of candy.  Who could pass up a find like that?

Isn’t it funny how our past can impact our actions today?  I know sometimes that can be a difficult thing and then maybe it’s best “left lying on the ground.” But, if your past is like mine, there are plenty of things worth remembering…and honoring. The key is knowing which is which and what is what. Paul must have had that in mind when he wrote that he had chosen to “forget that which is behind,” and trust me some of his past was harder than hard.

Today as you journey, keep your eyes up and look around and marvel at just how good God is.  But, occasionally, don’t be afraid to look down. Who knows, you might just spot something that will cause you to remember bottles by the road and a trip to the candy store.  You just might see something worth remembering.  And, if you do, be sure and thank the One who makes that “worth remembering” thing possible.  Remember to thank the One who is so keen on you He gave His best.  And then, remember, no matter what you are facing…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in communication, Family, friends, gratitude, life, Scripture, thankful

My Friend Francis

Posted on 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 and 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 applied dirt.  Good luck.  Not Judy.  She decided that the flower bed should go along the front of the house and that it needed 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 bit 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 a distant train whistle.

Now I didn’t think a thing about it. I always was a bit gullible and way too trusting so 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 train 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 about it.  I just assumed he didn’t want to be that close to the tracks when the train went by.  Well, that was kind of true.

The whistle blew again and this time it must have been about a mile down the tracks and Francis said it, “Preacher, we got to go.”  I did sense a bit of urgency in his voice but I kind of 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, or perform a funeral, or maybe just drive through town, I would look and see the ties.  I didn’t remember the sin (After all, 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 and that ain’t bad. Of course, if you’re gonna steal railroad ties, you definitely need the Jesus kind of friend.  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. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in communication, Family, forgiveness, gratitude, life, loving others, school days, Scripture, Trials

Have a Good Day

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24

“Sometimes you feel like a nut…sometimes you don’t.”  You might remember that as the slogan for the Mounds candy company.  One of their candy bars has almonds and one doesn’t. Frankly…I like them both.  The slogan reminds me of the way days sometimes go.  Sometimes they are smooth sailing and sometimes, well, they aren’t.  There is an old saying that asks the question, “Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed today?” It usually means someone is a bit grumpy and often it is associated with the day they are having. It goes back in time when getting out of bed on the left side was akin to bad luck and a bad day.

One of my favorite kid’s books is titled, “Alexander and The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.” It’s a humorous account of a little boy who has not a day, but seemingly a life, that constantly goes south.  Ever wonder what a bad day might look like?  Well, someone wrote a list of ten things that might be very good indicators of a very bad day.  It goes like this.

Top Ten Indicators of a bad day! 

1. You realize you just sprayed spot remover under your arms instead of deodorant. 

2. Your doctor tells you that you are allergic to chocolate chip cookies. 

3. The gypsy fortune teller offers to refund your money. 

4. The worst player on the golf course wants to play you for money. 

5. Everyone is laughing…but you. 

6. You turn on the news and they are showing emergency routes out of your city. 

7. You wake up to the soothing sound of running water…and remember you just purchased a water bed. 

8. Your horn sticks on the freeway–behind 32 guys riding motorcycles, wearing leathers, chains and very angry looks. 

9. You call the crisis hotline and they put you on hold. 

10. Your four year old tells you that it’s ALMOST impossible to flush a grapefruit down the toilet.

Well, I hope that made you smile.  We all have stories of days when it seemed like Murphy (of Murphy’s Law fame) was our worst best friend and absolutely nothing goes right.  It makes us want to go back to bed and try it all again.  Well, something that just keeps rolling around in my head (and my heart) is this scripture that talks about the fact that God makes each day.  It says, “This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.” I’m glad it didn’t say be happy about it because that might really be hard.  No, it says, “Rejoice” or be joyful.  You see joy and happiness are not the same.  Happiness depends on circumstances and joy depends on our trust in God—and those two things are far, far apart.

I have to admit that I am not always the most optimistic person, though I do try to see the glass as half full rather than half empty.  But I am learning that if I look around closely, I will see little love notes from my Dearest Daddy.  Mostly they are small, little blessings that can go unnoticed. But if I slow down and look around, there they are.  I think it is important to train our eyes, and minds, to look for the ways He works His God magic.  So, why not decide that today, right now, you are going to journey today with an eye for Him.  You might be surprised how differently your day goes.  Oh, and if it really is a difficult day, if it really seems like Alexander’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, well, just remember that every day and any day, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, gratitude, life, love, marriage, Scripture, thankful

Real Love, Real Blessed

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “This is real love—not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.” 1 John 4:10 

It was hotter than a firecracker. Today, forty-nine years ago, I became the luckiest guy in the world.  Oh, I know, Joe DiMaggio thought he was but that is because he didn’t marry Judy.  You see, on June 26, 1976, this Florida cracker married one fine Georgia peach—Judy Dawn Allen thus ensuring my standing as the luckiest guy in the world. Looking back over the past all most fifty years, I am amazed just how good God has been.

I met Judy at church one Wednesday night.  I was stationed at the nearby Air Force base.  She was only sixteen and I was twenty.  It had to be a miracle that her parents even let me near her but then…I did meet her at church. Smile. I walked into church that Wednesday night, saw her standing in a group of about five or six young ladies, and well, that was that.  I got her phone number from a friend who attended that same church, gave her a call, asked her out on a date and she said yes.  That yes led to another yes on April 1, 1975, when she agreed to marry me and that yes led to an “I Do” on June 26, 1976. How about that?

So what is the secret to being married for 49 years?  All you have to do is marry someone like my wife Judy.  She loves God and Jesus, loves her family, loves people but most of all—she loves me. I never could figure that part out.  I am certain I am not worthy of her love but still she scoops it out in large quantities. She loves me when I get it right and when I don’t.  She loves me when it is hard and loves me when it is easier.  Amazing.

As amazing as all that is—the way God loves me is even bigger and better. He too lavishes His love out on me, and He too loves me regardless of my performance. On my best day, He loves me and on my worst day, He loves me still and a zillion years from today He will still be loving me.  His word says, “This is real love—not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.” Now that is what I call love.  That is what I call amazing.

Looking back, hot or not, I’m grateful for that summer day in South Georgia when an amazing God allowed me to marry an amazing young lady.  Over forty-nine years, walking together, and all but five of them as a pastor’s wife, well, I’ll forever be indebted to the One who gave her to me and to her for saying yes.  He took care of me then and He will take care of me for all the tomorrows yet to come. As always, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, life, loving others, priorities, Scripture, spring, Trials

Tragedy, Triumph and Toughness

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “Where, death, is your victory? Where, death, is your sting?” 1 Corinthians 15:55

They were a feather covered “band of brothers.”  A while back when I was walking in the park, I once again realized what a “band of brothers” the geese and ducks are in the park.  As I made my laps around the park pond, I couldn’t help but notice what was happening.  No, they were not a few like the Marines, and I have no clue if they were proud of anything besides the huge mess they make on the walking path, but they were quite the band.  Their slogan might be, “The Tragic, the Triumph, and the Tough.” Hmmm…that sounded better when I thought it up but hey, let’s see how it goes.

Monday of that week, I noticed in the geese and duck community there were signs of tragedy brought on by a duck couple’s poor choices.  Monday, they had decided to lay some eggs and they chose the worse place ever—just three feet off the walking path.  It was simply a hole in the ground with no protection, no anything.  It was an invitation to disaster.  Tuesday she was on the nest, and he was doing his daddy duck thing—waddling, strutting, and quacking.  By Wednesday, it was game over.  Lap one, they were gone, and one lone egg lay on the grass outside the nest.  Lap two, they were back, and the egg was gone.  Lap three they were walking around sadly quacking.  I don’t speak fluent duck, but it seemed they were asking, “What happened?” I told them…out loud… “Bad choice guys, bad choice.”  It was a tragedy.

But with the occasional tragedy comes moments of triumph.  About ten or eleven days after the tragedy, I found a bunch of feathers by the walking path…bummer…and it looked like another sad tale…and it was.  But then something happened.  A little further down the path, there were two small ducklings that had somehow survived the onslaught.  They were survivors…they were beating the odds.  When I walked a few days later, they were still there…sticking together…a small “band of brothers.”  They were hanging around a couple of big ducks, but it was clear that they were on their own.  Way to go little ducks…keep on keeping on!  It was a moment of triumph.

And then there were the tough guys. They had survived being goslings and now they were big, they were bad, and they were tough.  The geese love to stand around on the walking path and, uh, well, you know.  It’s really quite messy.  That day, I was speeding along, and I soon realized the geese and I were on a collision path…either them or me were going to have to hit the grass and it wasn’t going to be me. So, I “parted the waters” and they all puffed their chest out and started hissing at me.  They hissed, I kept walking and they finally moved. We had played chicken (no pun intended) and I had won, but I had to admire their toughness. Like I said, “gutsy.”

Tragedy…Triumph…and Toughness. It seems life is life no matter what. We all know about tragedy…live long enough and it is going to mess with your life.  The difference is ducks and geese rarely see it coming and we often do. The difference is they have to face it alone, but we have a Someone who will walk with us through the hard times. That someone is Creator God.  He is always there and always willing to help. He can turn tragedy into triumph.  While there are plenty of epic failures in our paths, we can also know the joy of winning…of triumph. I remember when ABC Sports tag line was “the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat” and that is the way of life.  Sometimes we win and sometimes…well, we don’t.

I know it is natural for us, like our goose friends, to puff our chest out, and hiss and strut around trying to prove how tough we are. But truthfully, often we are not tough enough and that is when we need to lean on the One who is.  Our Dearest Daddy loves us so much that He sent His Son to take on our greatest enemy…death…and soundly thrash it.  No wonder Paul, one of the guys God used to pen a lot of the New Testament, said, “Who got the last word, oh, Death? Oh, Death, who’s afraid of you now?”  You gotta love Jesus’ toughness when it came to taking on sin and the grave.

Well, if you live in Harrisburg, Illinois or if your town has a park with a goose and duck “band of brothers” stop by and see what you can see…what you can learn.  And if you’ve never met the God who took on death and won…why not check Him out today.  You will discover a God who is strong enough to say, with confidence, “I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Grace, life, love, Scripture, spring, thankful, wisdom

When It Comes to Flowers

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

When it comes to flowers, Judy is no Jesus.  The one thing I really like about Jesus is that He was so inclusive.  If you were down and out—with Him, you were in.  If you were a leper—you were in.  How about the worst sinner around—the dreaded Roman tax collector?  Yup—in.  Caught red-handed committing adultery?  You were still invited to the party.  It just didn’t matter to Jesus because He came to seek and to save the broken, the bruised and the lost.  Now it drove the religious people nuts but that didn’t matter. He loved people and He especially loved sinners. How much? Enough to be almost beaten to death…enough to suffer the death of a Roman cross and enough to rise from the dead.  Now all that spells love.  Race, religion, or social class just didn’t matter.

Now when it comes to flowers, well, Judy really is no Jesus. You see my wife Judy is a real flower person.  You can count it a privilege to be planted in her garden…in her yard.  Only the best of the best makes the cut. Our neighbor was telling us that when people want to know where he lives and he tells them, and they say, “Oh next to the house with the beautiful yard.”  Yup, that’s Judy’s place.  But if you were a flower, there might be some bad news.  You either perform or you get pulled.  If you are just common, pack your bags and get ready to go.  The amount of grace varies from zero to some but is never unlimited.  Just like the daylilies in our front yard. By every right they really are pretty, but they are just too common to make the cut.  If you need some just let Judy know because they are going to go.

I am so glad that Jesus is no Judy.  If those daylilies had a soul, He would never reject them.  In fact, even the dreaded dandelion (the flower equivalent of a tax collector) would have a home with Him.  I’m glad I can let you know that no matter what you have done, how bad you think you might have messed up, whether you are the most common or most beautiful…Jesus loves you and if you are willing to trust Him and believe what He said and what He did—you are welcome to the party.

One of the most common and yet most beautiful verses in the Bible says it best, “For God so loved the world (that’s everybody) that He gave His one and only Son and anyone (that’s everybody too) who believes in Him will not perish (or get pulled up) but have eternal life.”  How about that? You, friend, are invited to the party.  So why not trust Him…today? Come and be a part of the most inclusive and beautiful garden of all—the garden of His family.  It is decision you will never regret—and you will always know, no matter what, that your Heavenly Father can handle anything…because He can. He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, life, Scripture, Southern born, Trials

Bruiser

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “The one who walks with the wise will become wise, but a companion of fools will suffer harm.” Proverbs 13:20

I should have seen it coming.  Both are true, and the truth is, it didn’t matter. Several years ago, a chunk of the Taylor tribe was able to go to Florida for a week.  The middle daughter had been going to the Palm Coast of Florida for the last several years and she suggested we give it a try. I was a reluctant participant.

You see, I was raised on the Northeast coast of Florida.  My growing up years consisted of regular trips to the beach.  Many years later I discovered the Gulf coast with its sugary white sands and clear blue-green waters and I was sold.  Because of this, I wasn’t overly excited when the plans for the East coast were drafted.  However, having done life being the only male in the house (there was my wife, three daughters, a girl dog, a girl cat or two and six female tropical fish.  Even the mice in the barn were girls.) I realized that resistance was futile.  So off to the East coast we went.

I was pleasantly surprised.  We were about an hour or so South of Jacksonville (where I was raised) in a nice condominium complex. We shared the place with our middle daughter and family and it was just perfect.  It overlooked the golf course with a great view of the ocean.  The grounds were well maintained and it had two very nice pools—one family and one for the adults who liked things a little quieter.  The normal vacation crowd was much smaller because of the COVID thing. The only problem was “they” were there.

“They” were waves.  Pretty big waves.  You see on the Gulf side you usually have little friendly waves.  The waves gently bump into you and seem to say, “Hi, we are glad you are here.”  The waves in the Atlantic are from the Southside of Chicago.  They are gangster waves. When we went to the beach they were waiting.  This is the part I remember from my growing up and from one or two vacations from earlier years.  You can hear them before you see them.  They are inviting you into the water—so they can bully you.

Anyway, we get to the beach and you know they didn’t look too intimidating.  I mean they weren’t gentle “hey, glad you are here waves” but they weren’t “terminator” waves either.  We planted our stuff on the beach and off we went into the water.  First, I tested the waves with a knee deep stand.  Not bad.  Then I went a little deeper.  Still not too bad but I could begin to feel them.  They wanted me.  They had my number.

I was out in waist deep water and realized the power of perception.  Those waves that didn’t seem so big from shore were all of a sudden larger—much larger.  I turned to talk to Judy who was close by and looked back just in time to see a large wave coming.  Fortunately, I was able to keep my footing and survived the onslaught.  I smiled.  My sunglasses were still on my face and my hat was still on my head.  I was an overcomer.  Who’s the man now?! That’s when “Bruiser” came.

“Bruiser” was epic, “Bruiser” had one goal in mind—take me down.  I saw him coming but it was too late.  “Bruiser” was well over my head and broke right on top of me.  One minute I was standing and the next minute I was in a washing machine of ocean water…in the spin cycle.  When I came to surface, of which I was very grateful, “Bruiser” had moved on.  My swim shirt was over my head, my hat was gone and my pride and body were a little bruised.  He had won. I had taken on the big boy and come up short.  Probably worse of all my Seattle hat, the one I had worn for several years was lost to the jaws of “Bruiser.”   He never had a chance.  May he rest in peace.

Well, one time in the spin cycle was enough for me that day. And somewhat gratefully I was glad to learn that others in the family had suffered similar fates. Even the son-in-laws got bowled over a time or two. Hats and sunglasses were lost but what was found was the joy of being with family.  We had a good time.

I did learn, or perhaps more accurately, relearn a lesson about the waves of the Atlantic.  They can be pretty powerful.  Usually there is a flag system that warns of particularly rough waves.  Our beach didn’t have that, but I later heard on the news there had been some big waves.  Oh well, hindsight is 20/20.  Sometimes they manage to sneak in but even when you see them coming, they can take you down.

Life is the same way.  A day at life’s beach can quickly turn into a spin cycle of ocean water.  We can get bowled over by circumstances, uncertainties, tragedies and a occasional pandemic. Even when we see them coming, they can be overwhelming.  After my encounter with “Bruiser” that day, I decided it was time to visit the pool—eventually all of us did.  The Bible says, “The one who walks with the wise will become wise, but a companion of fools will suffer harm.”  Translated another way that means there is a time to swim in the ocean and there is a time to head to the pool. Wisdom is knowing when to do what. Wisdom is also knowing that no matter what life throws at you, we can rest in the One who makes the waves because He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in communication, Family, life, loving others, marriage, Scripture, Southern born

Pouder and Poud

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “I will also give him a white stone, and on the stone a new name is inscribed that no one knows except the one who receives it.” Revelation 2:17 

What in the world is a “Poud?” In my Grits storying I often talk about my wife Judy.  A while back I mentioned her nickname and someone asked, “What is the story there?”  Well, I am glad you asked.  Admittedly, it is a rather unusual nickname. It goes something like this.  A long, long time ago, before I was around and when Judy was young, one of her brothers stated calling her “Judy Poudy.”  Since she was the last of nine siblings, maybe they ran out of creativity? Anyway, I am assuming it was because it rhymed.  Sometime later, the family shortened the name and started calling her “Poud.”

As the years rolled by, she was “Poud” this and “Poud” that.  Well, finally, in the fulness of time (you know, like the Bible), I showed up on the stage of her life.  After we met at church it was soon time to meet parents and finally her extended family. There probably aren’t enough letters in the alphabet or adjectives in the English language to describe this crazy bunch of South Georgians. Let it be enough to say that they believed in having fun and telling tall tales.  Oh, the things one learns from sitting around their table at family gatherings and just watching and listening! Get them in a room together and the tales would start and wrapped up in those tales would be the occasional “Poud” this and “Poud” that.

Well, that could be the end of the story, but it isn’t.  You see, this crazy bunch of South Georgians knew how to make a guy feel right at home and before long I was the object of several stories, some true and some not…. and some of those stories caused me to end up with my own nickname, “Pouder.”  Now I’ll leave it to your imagination how that came about, but the new couple in the Allen clan had a new name—“Poud” and “Pouder.”  Finally, after years of marriage, we decided to make it easier by simply calling each other “Poud.”  It goes something like this, “Hey Poud?”  And the other would simply reply with “Yes, Poud.”  It doesn’t matter much now, but when we get old, it should at least be convenient.

It’s funny (no pun intended) how “Judy” became a “Judy Poudy” and together we became “Poud” and “Pouder.”  New relationships sometimes generate a new name and that is just what God does for us.  When we join His family, whatever we once were slips away and we become something new—one of His children…His son or daughter.

In the Bible, there was a woman who had an unclean issue of blood. Basically, that meant she wasn’t welcome anywhere…especially at church and because of her sickness she only knew the scorn and harshness of those around her.  But one day she met Jesus and He healed her and gave her a new name—daughter.  And when we meet Jesus…well, whatever the world and those around us used to called us, no matter how condemning, that all changes and He calls us His. I love that.

There is a scripture in the last Book in the Bible, the Revelation, and it says that one day God will give us a new name.  It says there, “I will also give him a white stone, and on the stone a new name is inscribed that no one knows except the one who receives it.”  I don’t know what all that means but I do know it will be special.  To be called His son is amazing enough but to know that He has a special name for me, for us…well, that is incredible.

I hope you have made the decision to be called His child.  It’s not just church, it’s certainly not religion—it is a relationship with Creator God.  And that unknown and special name…well, we will just have to wait and see what that is all about.  One thing is certain—it will be special and He’s got it reserved just for me and just for you.  Until then we will just have to wait and trust that…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Grace, life, love, marriage, Scripture, thankful, USA

Flag Day

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the expanse proclaims the work of his hands.” Psalm 19:1

It was for better or worse.  In a little more than a week my wife and I will celebrate our 49th wedding anniversary.  I know if you have ever seen us you would find that hard to believe because we look so young.  Smile.  The years have flown by so quickly.  I can remember the days we would go to a conference and something and they would introduce the guest speaker saying they had been married for 35 years or so.  The crowd would erupt in applause.  I would think how old they were.  I am now that person.  But they say that age is just a number and that’s true.

When I married Judy that hot (and I do mean hot) June day in South Georgia we made a commitment to each other.  It went something like this, “for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health till death do us part.”  It was a deal we made with each other that no matter what we were stuck on (and not stuck with) each other.  We decided that we were in this for the long haul.  There have been speed bumps, detours and even a few fender benders but love somehow learns to forgive, and sometimes ignore, those.

I bet you think this story is about marriage, didn’t you?  Got you.  Nope, it is about my love for this country.  Tomorrow, June 14th, is Flag Day.  When I pastored, it always garnered a place on our church marquee and a mention in the sermon intro. Oh, and I also worn a flag pin.  But it had a much bigger place in my heart.  I love my country, the land where God put me, America…not because it is perfect but because I could  stand every week in our church and say what I want…and no one was going to arrest me.  I love America because it is still the land of the free.  I am writing this after a return from Kentucky.  I didn’t need anyone’s permission to leave; I just got in the car and off Judy and I went.  Yup, I love America. Having lived in and visited over twenty-five countries in this world…I have seen and experienced many others and America still tops the list.

You are probably wondering, “Dewayne, with all its warts and imperfections, with all its injustices and wrongs, with all its junk, how can you love America?”  Well, the answer is two fold.  One, from where I sit, it is still the best place in the world to live.  Its landscape and people-scape are just amazing.  It is filled with people willing to die for what they believe…that is why we are free.  It is a place where you can speak your mind and even protest a wrong.  The second reason is I signed up for the long haul.  Its kinda like the deal that Judy and I made.  “For better, for worse; for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health till death parts us.” I’m an American till the end.

Judy loves me…a lot.  She somehow manages to love me in spite of my failures and faults.  It kinda reminds me of God.  He just refuses to give up on us.  He extends grace and mercy and works to make us more and more like Him. With that comes a better me.  As we work to make America a better place to live and work, as we extend grace and mercy to each other, we are mirroring Him.  Sounds like a good plan to me.

Like I said earlier, tomorrow is Flag Day.  When I look at Old Glory I see the rich history, imagine the price that countless men and women have paid for this experiment in democracy and fall in love all over again.  And in these stars and stripes I see the hope not only for you and me, not only for America but for the world.  I see the gospel according to Old Glory.  I know each color and each part of the flag has special meaning but allow me some liberty…pun intended.

When I see the field of stars I am reminded that in Psalm 19:1 “the heavens declare the glory of God.” It reminds me that every star in the sky is a witness to the existence of God. The blue field reminds me that there is a King in heaven.  Blue is the color of royalty and it points to the King of the universe…the creator of all.  His name is Jesus and He loves everybody regardless of skin color, language spoken or place lived.  The red reminds me of the measure of this King’s love..He died on a Roman cross.  He was not murdered and He wasn’t even martyred…He willingly died.  The payment for sin…all sin…was death and He paid the price. Amazing.

And the white…well that is my favorite color for it stands for forgiveness.  White shouts that my sins are forgiven, that I am free and that I can call the Creator of the universe, Abba Father or “Dearest Daddy.”  I know you might think I’m taking a little too much liberty with that title but that is what He is.

Anyway, I’m grateful for a wife who loves me regardless of my shortcomings.  I am grateful for a place to call home that gives me the freedom to live, worship and believe as I see fit.  Perfect? Not even by a long shot but I’m gonna stick around and do what I can to make her better.  I’m gonna stick around and make sure the America my grandkids grow up is even better that the one I knew and know.  And I am very grateful for a God that loves me unconditionally, that He is big enough to handle all the fears and warts of life and big enough to give me a place to rest…in Him.  Oh, and I’m glad that He is big enough to conquer sin, death and grave because it just proves…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, gratitude, life, priorities, Scripture, travel, USA

Enjoy the Journey

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” Philippians 4:4

It just depends.  Several years back, my wife Judy and I returned from a trip out west.  It was a trip that would involve flying and driving.  It was also a trip with one purpose…to get away, to relax, and to enjoy.  It is not uncommon for us to take a trip and encounter some less than perfect weather.  We have learned to say, “Oh well, at least we’re away.” Away…that’s a good thing.  You see, the purpose of a journey can often determine the success of the journey.  Set your sights too high and too narrow and you will often find frustration and stress.

Let me explain.  The first leg of our journey was simple…get to Colorado as quickly as possible.  Because that was the goal…we flew.  Also, because that was the goal every delay caused me to have a stressful moment.  Long check-in, stress.  Long security, frustration.  Flight delay, double both.  You see, the point was to get there…not to enjoy the journey.  When I was much younger, just the thought of getting to fly was exciting.  I would always ask for the window seat so I could watch the world go by.  The joy was the journey, but now, alas, it is just a means to get somewhere, and the wonder and joy have slipped away.

Leg two of the journey was different.  It was a hybrid of experiences. Renting a new and different car to drive, driving in a new part of the world, and going at a pace that better enabled us to enjoy it. Usually. But honestly, there was still a battle to be fought…an alligator to be wrestled to the earth.  I had to determine if the destination was the goal…or was it the journey?  I mean I know that there is always a destination but if that becomes obsessive, the joy quickly slips away.  It was my call—enjoy the journey or race to the destination.

You see, if I am racing to the destination, then put me on an interstate highway where the roads are wide, and the speed limit is high.  Out in Wyoming, the speed limit on the interstate was 80 mph…Katie bar the door.  Oh, and those long, straight two-lane roads—yup, 75 mph.  That fit my destination minded mindset just fine, thank you.  But then there were the times that we were in the Rocky Mountains on a curvy, mountain road just driving.  There really wasn’t a place we had to be—we were just driving and that changed everything.  If there was a slower driver in front…that was fine. We would just sit back and enjoy the scenery as it slid by the windows.  The journey was the destination and joy was the result.

But here is what I discovered.  As soon as there was a “gotta be there” destination and mindset then that same road and that same slow driver became a stress point.  The only thing that changed was the pressure to get there.  That same scenery was an ignored blur as the only thing that mattered was looking for a passing zone so I could get there—wherever there happened to be.  The end of the day often told the story—tired and stressed or refreshed and blessed—the way I traveled seemed to make all the difference.

There will always be a destination to get to and there will always be slower drivers and unexpected obstacles to keep us from getting there, but joy in the journey changes everything.  Jesus knew that His destination was a Roman cross, but He never let that stop Him from enjoying the day and loving those around Him.  He loved the joy of the journey.  I can just imagine Him smiling as He changed the life of a leper or blessed a small child…all joy in the journey.  Paul, one of the guys who wrote a large part of the New Testament, said, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!”  In other words, have joy in the journey…no matter what that journey looks like.  He did that really well.

So, when you find yourself on a winding, two-lane road, enjoy the journey.  Take a moment to watch the beauty around you slide by the windows.  See what God has allowed to come into your world that day and the destination will come soon enough.  And when you find yourself backed into a rushed corner, there’s a couple of things you can do.  First, plan a little better when you can and then use that extra time to talk to the Father about that day or maybe relax in Him because, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne