Category: fear

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, Trials, wisdom

The Word

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

In the beginning the Word already existed. The Word was with God, and the Word was God.” John 1:1

It was bound to happen.  In my forty-two years of being a pastor I’ve managed to dodge the bullet on missing various things.  While I’ve had to miss several Sundays over the years, I never missed a wedding or a funeral.  Ironically, I almost got off to a bad start. Yup, I almost missed my first wedding with a bout of stomach flu.  With a bag in my pocket…we made it somehow.  I never missed a funeral…that is until a couple of years ago.  That flu season brought the type A flu…the kind that makes you think there are worse things than death…and I had to bow out.

It was hard.  It was the mother of a member of our church, a friend, and I was honored that he asked me to do her service.  Fortunately, I began preparing for the service several days before I got sick.  He had shared about his mother, and I wrote her life story.  With that done, I wrote the rest of the service.  I was sure I could do the service and that was a mistake.  So, the morning before the service that afternoon, I threw in the towel and asked one of our staff members to do the service and then texted my friend and called the funeral home.  I hated it but it was the right thing to do.

Suddenly, I was very grateful for the work I had done earlier that week.  I was able to give my work to our worship leader who would be filling in.  Now because of the short notice it was still a deal for him to step in, but the preparation and his willingness saved the day.  The bottom line was the service went great and the family was blessed.  The only problem was I felt like I had failed.  I know, I didn’t, but sometimes feeling trumps facts.  Know what I mean?

Well, I called the family later and told them I was so sorry and that I wished I could have been there for them.  They were very kind and understanding. After the phone call something came to my mind that changed my feelings of failure.  From nowhere, or maybe from God, came the words, “Dewayne, you weren’t there but your words were, and they made the difference.”  Instantly, I got it, I understood.  God’s plan for me this time was to be a part in a different yet important way.  God knew the flu was coming and He encouraged me to prepare and because of that preparation, the family was ministered too, and He got the glory.

“Even though I wasn’t there, my words, were.”  What a powerful thought.  It reminded me of how blessed we are to have the Word of God in our lives.  In so many parts of the world, people don’t have access to a copy of what we call the Bible.  In some places in the world, people treasure mere fragments of His Book.  Here in America, and other parts of the world, we can own multiple copies of this blessed Book.  No other book brings the comfort of His printed Word.  It is a confident assurance no matter what we face.  There is a reason for that.  You see, the Bible is God’s revelation of Himself to us. It is unlike any other book.

As a matter of fact, speaking of Jesus, the Bible says, “In the beginning the Word already existed. The Word was with God, and the Word was God. He existed in the beginning with God.” Who is this “He?”  We find the answer a few verses later.  It says, “So the Word became human and made His home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. And we have seen His glory, the glory of the Father’s one and only Son.” All that makes the Bible even more amazing.  When we read the Book, we are experiencing, we are walking, hand in hand, with God.  Wow.  Even though God is not physically here…His Word is and that makes the difference.

If you have never checked out the Bible, Christmas is a great time to start.  Discover it for yourself. Get a copy or get online and discover the power and presence of the Word of God.  It is filled with peace, comfort and promises.  And throughout all its pages you will find that special promise that means so much, “I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne 

Posted in Christmas, Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Military memories, prayer, Scripture, thankful, Trials, wisdom

A Day That Lives in Infamy

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

Today is December 7th.  Each year, on this date, I intentionally publish this story because of the story and the truth it shares.  We must never forget what happened that day, the ones who gave their lives nor the powerful truths that still speak to us.  I hope you will read it again, with fresh eyes and an open heart.

“December 7th.  A day that will live in infamy.” 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 an 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 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. 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 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 churches.  It is not a time to point fingers, but rather a time to rise to help solve what is broken.  Eighty-two 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.  Bro. Dewayne.

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, Integrity, life, loving others, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials, USA

Disney Encounter: Standing Strong in Hard Times

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:13

She stood against the wall in the crowded elevator.  On our trip with Disney cruise lines, there were two ways to go between decks.  You can take the elevator, or you can take the stairs.  Sometimes, maybe most times, my wife Judy and I would take the stairs.  With all the good food they served, every bit of exercise helped.  But sometimes, when we were on deck three and we were going to deck 12, we would take the elevator—and that is when I saw her.

She was probably about 45 and was using a cane. Her expression seemed to indicate that maybe just maybe she had a hard story.  Trust me, I don’t always do crazy things on elevators but this time I did.  I noticed that she was wearing a Nike shirt with the emblem for some sport, so I asked her, “So, I see you are wearing a sport’s shirt, so is that why you are using a cane?”  I know crazy, right? Sometimes I even surprise myself.  Well, what she said caught me totally off guard.  She said, “No, I was blown up in Somalia.” Ok, before I tell you what I said, let me say I meant it out of respect for her tenacity—her refusal to cave in to her circumstances.

Ok, now for what I said.  Out of my mouth came, “Wow…that is awesome.” Well, that didn’t come out right.  She replied, “Awesome…I almost died.”  Well, the elevator paused, and she was about to get off and I had about 30 seconds to explain what I meant, and I did and thankfully she fully understood. Well, the door closed but my unintentional insensitivity and my even greater respect for her service wouldn’t leave my mind.  I asked God for another chance to talk with her.  I didn’t have much hope since there were 3,000 people on the ship.  But…God honored my prayer.

Early the next morning, I was out on the top deck drinking coffee and telling God what a great job He did on the sunrise that day.  I glanced over and there, about 25 yards away, was a lady who looked like the lady.  She was heading back inside, and I almost didn’t act. What if it wasn’t her, what if I said the wrong thing again? Well, God quickly reminded me of my prayer, and I caught the lady right before she got on the elevator. It was her.

Well, I asked if she remembered me and she smiled (the smile that says, “how could I forget.”) I apologized again and she once again said it wasn’t necessary and then she told me her story. Turns out she was a Marine and was in a crowded public place doing some intelligence work when a mortar came in.  Another Marine who was with her, tried to protect her and instead pushed her right into the blast of the shell and its shrapnel. She was gravely wounded and spent too many months in rehab learning to do life again.  There’s much more to the story but the part, the Big Truth, that I want to leave with you is this—she didn’t give up and she didn’t allow it to stop her. She chose to move on.  So, she was medically discharged and though she was dealt a difficult life…like any good Marine she pressed on.

I really admired my new friend for that, and I am hoping I can learn from her. I am hoping I can remember that no matter what—we can be overcomers.  Let me encourage you to make Philippians 4:13 more than just a catchy verse in the Bible…make it your mantra.  It says, “I can do everything, through Christ, who strengthens me.” And do you know what?  We can because He can.  He is our enabling, powerful Friend who is always walking beside us.  Remember, no matter what, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Short Stories…Big Truths

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in Me, even if he dies, will live.” John 11:25

Short stories with big truths.  It all started on a Saturday morning.  We were a few months into writing stories on Facebook, and then decided to take the next step and build a website where our stories could be more easily accessed.  Many of our friends suggested compiling the stories into a book.  Well, that dream hasn’t happened and may not.  But the website did.  We decided to call it Grits with Grace.  Grits spoke of our Southern heritage and grace of the most powerful thing we have ever experienced.  Next came the tag line, “Short Stories with Big Truths.” Judy staged the picture in our backyard and, well, you probably know the rest.

Short stories with big truths.  Hmmm. That came home one morning as I was walking.  Sometimes, maybe once a week, I take my walk through our local cemetery.  It is rather large and if I make a couple of laps around the outside coupled with a shorter one, I end up with about two miles.  As I have written before, I love this walk because of all the life stories you can find on the headstones.  I take the same route each time…I am a creature of habit.  What I saw this morning I had seen many times before but this morning it spoke to me.

His name was Keith.  I could give you the last name but for privacy I won’t.  He was born on July 3, 1956, just a couple of years after me.  In other words, I was two and a half years old the day he started his life journey. We could have gone to the same school, played on the same ball team—except he was from here and I was from the south.  Anyway, it was the next date that always caught my attention. It was the date that he died.  Keith drew his last breath on May 31, 1964, at the too young age of 7 years, 10 months, and 29 days. I don’t know the cause of his untimely death…only that it was a too short story.  Was it a car accident, a bike accident?  Did he fall while playing?  Perhaps it was one of too many childhood illnesses.  Even polio could be a possibility.  Well, like I said we don’t know.  The only thing we know is that something unexpectedly stepped in and stole his years away.

Short stories.  The cemetery is full of headstones that tell short stories.  Walk a while and you will see that truth played out and that is why I am writing this story.  You see, Keith is a reminder to me, as all the headstones are, of a big truth.  The number of our days is a closely guarded secret of the One who created us.  He, and only He, knows when we will step into eternity.  Death is certainly no respecter of race, color, creed, or economic status.  Death doesn’t care about age.  We only know that one day it will come but don’t let that deflate you or scare you because Jesus took care of death two thousand years ago when He resurrected that first Easter morning.

I’m almost certain that Keith didn’t know he was going to have such a short story, but I hope he knew the One that could make a difference.  I hope he knew Jesus.  I hope you know Jesus.  When Jesus is entered into any equation, well, it changes everything, but especially death.  With Jesus death is not the end but the beginning and no matter how many years we live here—the life on the other side is so much more…so much longer.  Keith teaches us that some stories are short, very short and some stories are long, very long.  Jesus teaches us that it isn’t the length of the story that matters, it is what we do with Him.  He is what matters…not church, not religion, not religious stuff—just Jesus.

I really like what Jesus said in John 11:25—one of the books in the Bible that tells the story of Jesus.  He says, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in Me, even if he dies, will live.” The her is a woman named Martha and her brother had just died with a too short story.  Jesus is just letting her know that death doesn’t have to call the shots because He has.  Short stories…those will always be with us but so will big truths—like the one that says, “I’ve got this” because He does.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials

Chilled to the Bone

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.” 2 Corinthians 9:8

If it wasn’t the coldest night of my life…it was close.  Back in 2008 we began a journey of doing mission work in West Africa.  While I had traveled to several, and some would say many, countries nothing compared to West Africa.  Even a trip to the third world part of Bulgaria with the Roma people couldn’t compare.  When we arrived in Niamey, Niger late one night, I thought I and my teammates had landed on the far side of the moon.  It was that different. Rarely am I had a loss for words, but that trip like no other caused me to appreciate my home country but also the people and places on a continent called Africa.

Niger is in what is called Sub-Saharan Africa.  The Sahara Desert is a stone’s throw from Niger’s capital city.  After we had taken a day to acclimate, we headed north into the desert to a small town literally in the middle of nowhere.  We were visiting with a couple of single guys who were living there and doing some work with the local people.  The goal was to share with the people about someone many of them had never heard about.  That someone was Jesus.  We were really limited to what we could do, but we did prayer walking and would try and talk with some of the folks through an interpreter.  It was incredible.

On the eight-hour drive into the desert (and keep in mind we flew for hours and hours to even get to Niger) our missionary casually mentioned that we would need to buy some blankets because it was likely to be cold at night.  I laughed.  If you are like me you think Africa and the Sahara and then you think hot, dry and then hot again.  I told her I doubted very seriously that I would get cold.  She just smiled.  Late in the afternoon we arrived at Tchin-Tabaraden.  In case you are wondering I am pretty sure we could see the end of the world just outside of town. Smile.

We had a great time talking with the two guys that lived there and before long it was time to set up our sleeping arrangements.  We were going to sleep out in the courtyard.  There was a small house, but we chose to sleep under the stars.  We set our cots up and each one of us had a blanket.  I was sure I wouldn’t need mine, but being the team player I hung on to it.  Before long, it was dark…really dark.  There was no running water and no electricity.  After a while we decided it was time to settle down for our long winter’s nap.  It seemed just a bit cooler.

Soon the stars were simply brilliant. I am sure there are places in America without light pollution that really shows off the stars.  With that said, there is simply nothing as beautiful as the stars above Africa.  Then, slowly a huge full moon came up over the horizon. If you can imagine it, it was almost too bright to sleep, and I am not kidding. Then it happened.

It?  What was it?  It was the desert cold.  Slowly, almost without warning, the dry “winter” air settled in.  In just a few minutes I had spread the blanket lightly over me.  In another few minutes, I had tucked the blanket around me.  A little later I was trying to figure out how to put the blanket under me and over me.  Apparently, there was too much of me and too little blanket.  Then, well then, I just got bone chilling, you’ve got to be kidding me, am I really in Africa, COLD.  Let me just say, I spent a large part of that night wishing for daylight.  Oh, how I couldn’t wait to see my old friend the sun.  It was the coldest night I have ever spent.

Finally, at about the 4:30 in the morning the mosque right across the street began the first call of prayer for the day.  Of course, I had long beaten them to the punch.  I had been praying since about midnight for the sun to come up.  I figured if Joshua could pray for the sun to stand still, maybe I could pull off it coming up early.  Nope.  When the sun did come up and began to warm the compound, the first thing I did was apologize to the missionary for doubting her forecast of a chilly night.

Ironically, that wasn’t quite the end of the story.  For our second night at the compound, we decided we would cram into the little house where certainly it would at least be warmer.  Well, the joke was on us.  Just like that, the weather turned and that night in the little house, no one used a blanket.  In fact…it was downright warm…too warm. After the freezing night and then the too warm night, back-to-back, you might be wondering would I go back?  Well, the answer is absolutely.  Over the years, it has been my privilege to return time and again and each time the blessings far outweigh the hardships. No contest. I long for the day when my feet will be on African soil once again, sharing the Good News.

We have made wonderful friendships, experienced many diversified cultures, and seen countless people come to know Christ as Savior.  We have seen more than a few miracles and watched as God changed lives—most notably the fair skinned men and women from America.  I am sure it is impossible to go on a trip like this and not be changed.  It has a tendency to put things like we have experienced recently in perspective.  We whine because bathroom tissue is out of stock.  Go to West Africa…they don’t even have bathrooms.  Smile.

Well, there you go. As we enter this most wonderful time of the year, be sure and be thankful for all the blessings you have.  Paul, a guy who wrote a bunch of the New Testament in the Bible said, “And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.” That’s right, Paul.

You see, many of those people who lived in Tchin-Tabaraden didn’t face one cold night, or warm night, they experienced them all and without a blanket or the air conditioning humming quietly.  We are indeed blessed. The old hymn says, “Count your blessings, name them one by one.”  That is good advice and there is nothing like a trip to a third-world country to help you do it.  I am grateful that we never travel alone.  Our Dearest Daddy goes with us each time.  He provides rest in the midst of restless nights and no matter the obstacle or hardship, we know, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, missions, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials

Payback

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

He will not fear bad news; his heart is confident, trusting in the Lord.” Psalm 112:7 (CSB)

Payback isn’t always bad. If you are a Grits reader, you know this is one guy who is pretty proud to be an American.  I love our country but that doesn’t mean we always get it right.  When we were in England, we discovered something that was awesome. Let me explain it to you. We took the train up to Edinburgh, Scotland and back. I had thought about driving but one thing they don’t get right over there is which side of the road to drive on.  They don’t drive on the right side of the road…literally.  So, after a short debate we decided to take the train.

I was impressed that their trains are fast.  The train we caught to Edinburgh was zipping along and I pulled out my trusty iPhone and discovered we were going 125 mph—now that is cool.  But that wasn’t the coolest thing.  Coming back, we were zipping along—until we weren’t.  About two-thirds through the journey, we made an unexpected stop in a small village.  The train driver guy came on the PA and apologized.  There was a problem up ahead with the signaling system so all trains, including ours, were stopped.  Well, after about 15 minutes, he came back on to let us know it was going to be a while, so he invited us to step off the train and stretch our legs if we wanted to.  We did—so we did.

Well, there was a Starbucks inside, so I got a cup of something and then my wife, Judy and I walked up and down the platform for a while. By now we had been stopped for just shy of an hour. No problem…everyone seemed to be handling the delay quite well.  So, we walked some more and finally decided to get back on.  Every few minutes the train driver guy would come back on the PA and apologize and promise to keep us updated. Well, after 118 minutes, I know, not because I was looking at my watch but because he told us, we were “back on the road (or tracks) again.”

As we got underway, he apologized for the twentieth time and then told us to be sure and visit the railroad’s website…wait for it…to get our money back. Yup…you read that right.  Apparently, on public transportation, including railroads, any delay over 30 minutes entitles you to some sort of refund.  In our case, we received a 100% refund of our ticket price…all without even asking.  What! Can you believe that? So, we turned in our information and in a couple of days all if our money was back in our account.  Now that is amazing.

I’m not sure, but that might be one reason why everyone on the train was so low key about the delay. They knew that the train company was going to take care of them. It didn’t change the delay but it sure did make it more tolerable. In a small way, that is kinda, sorta like God. You see in our lives; we have the confident assurance that God is going to take care of us too.  And, if we are wise enough to trust Him, it might just make our life journey less stressful. The journey is better if we know the end…it is true with trains and it is definitely true in life.

So, as you do your life journey, listen for the voice of your Dearest Daddy…He will probably be telling you to trust Him. He won’t apologize for the delay or the circumstances, but He will let you know that…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Loving a Broken World

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

“If you love Me, obey My commandments.” John 14:15

Did it really happen?  I find myself wondering about that very thing when I remember 2020 and the COVID outbreak.  I am amazed when I think back and realize the worldwide impact of the pandemic.  Economies and societies came to a grinding halt.  When we were recently in England, invariably the topic would come up as people described what they could or could not do. Several members of my family eventually got it and I had it twice and it was a “Debbie-Downer.” For too many it was more than a downer—it was devastating and deadly.

I remember one of our church staff members tested positive for the virus.  When that was reported to the health department it messed with my normal—our normal.  First, because our entire staff had been a room with the positive case, we all were placed on quarantine.  Like it or not, stomp your foot if you want—we were locked up for two weeks.  Fortunately, no one else got it. Yay.  Second, because there were several other cases spread across the church family, most not related in any way, we had to go to remote worship for a couple of weeks. How crazy.

If you didn’t have to experience COVID or the quarantine thing…count your blessings.  You might ask, “Dewayne, what was it like?”  Well, I guess it depends on your perspective.  I know it was personally frustrating.  I found myself telling whoever would listen that I didn’t have time to be quarantined.  Of course, being the creative guy that I am, I found a few ways to work around it while not being around people but that is my secret.  Smile.

I think I came away with a better understanding of the impact this had on the lives of people.  The isolation and the stigma reminded me of what lepers must have gone though in the Bible.  They had to live apart from everyone one else and should they encounter someone they had to holler out, “Unclean, unclean.”  Well, I didn’t encounter anyone, so I didn’t do much hollering, but I did wonder when I saw someone from a distance, “What if they knew I was on lock up?  Would they treat me differently?”  And I decided that they would. I also decided it would hurt my heart.

I wonder how many people we encounter in our walk about world who have been beaten up and scarred by the world who feel the same way?  Do our stares and our intentional avoidance cause them to hurt?  I bet it does.  You know, our eyes and body language sometimes speak louder than our words.  I love the fact that Jesus never avoided the broken ones around Him.  If they had leprosy, He would love them and touch them.  If they were outcast by society because they were prostitutes or tax collectors, He would love them and touch them. If they were Romans soldiers who nailed people to crosses—even Him to His—He would love them and touch them if He could.  I like that…a lot.

COVID is now mostly in the rearview mirror but there are still some positive cases going around. Fortunately, now the symptoms are more of a big inconvenience. But I do think we would be wise to remember and respond to COVID or any other stigma with one question, “What would Jesus do?” When he saw hurting people, He took the time to love them and have compassion for them. And that should be our response too.

Like I said, the COVID thing is largely in the rearview mirror…and I hope that is where it stays. But what is not over is the brokenness in our world—however big or small that world may be.  What is not over is the need for Jesus’ people to be like Jesus. He said that if we really love Him, we should keep His commands.  And there are two that are at the top of His list—love God and love people.  One of the best ways to show our love for God is to show His love for those He created.  All of them.  Social status, skin color, or whatever label we tend to put on them just doesn’t matter.  So, when you bump into someone today, either from a distance or up close, be sure and love them like Jesus and leave the details to God.  You can rest in this one essential, nonnegotiable fact:  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, gratitude, life, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Wait and See

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Then Abraham fell on his face and laughed and said to himself, “Shall a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old? Shall Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a child?” Genesis 17:17

I quit just a little too soon.  I think there must have been this line in heaven where all the babies wait to be assigned dads, moms, skills, and bodies in heaven.  I can just imagine me standing there waiting.  I am watching as all the boy babies make it to the front and they are soon on their way with these bodies that are destined to be tall and muscular.  They make the jump to earth and their new homes just waiting to grow up and become the next Babe Ruth or Michael Jordan.  I can also imagine my turn at the front of the line and Saint Peter saying something about sports and I miss understood and thought he said something about ketchup, and I said, “Sure, I’ll take a squirt.” Anyway, I arrived on earth a little shorter than average and not a sports bone in my body.  I should have listened more closely.

All this became pretty apparent when it came to choosing teams.  Whether it was kickball, volleyball, basketball, dodgeball, or baseball, when the teams were chosen, I was near the end of the line. As far as school sports are concerned, well, there were hundreds of kids in the schools I attended and trust me no one ever offered me a contract.  The only place I had a measure of success was, of course, at church.  I managed to make the church softball team though it was the “B” team. We did play tackle football after our Bible study time on Wednesday nights and there I made a name for myself. One of our teachers was named Eddie and he was, well, one large man and no one could tackle him, so they called him “Big Eddie.”  While I wasn’t nearly that large, I was harder to tackle so I gained the name “Little Eddie.”  Hey, when you are nameless in the world of sports, you will take anything.

My only foray into “professional sports” was Little League baseball when I was about 9 or 10.  I don’t remember if I made the team, or if everyone made the team.  Regardless, we were called the Gators and we, or rather they, were pretty good.  Again, I had absolutely no talent in baseball, so I was assigned to right field on the rare occasions that I got to play.  I was the kid who prayed a lot during the games.  It wasn’t that I was particularly spiritual—it was emotional survival.  First, I would pray that they wouldn’t play me and then, if they did, I would pray that no one would hit the ball to right field.  It didn’t work. Invariably someone would and well, it wasn’t good.

Then, of course, there was the batting thing.  Did you know that there are players who say they can see the stitches on the ball as it comes toward them?  Did you know there are players who know when and how to swing?  Can you guess I wasn’t one of those players?  Nope, the pitcher would pitch, and I would wonder where the ball was. That wasn’t pretty either.  So, the sad (you are feeling sorry for me by now, aren’t you) bottom line is that one day I just refused to go to practice.  I made it through about three quarters of the season, and I just gave it up—I quit.

Well, guess what?  It turns out that even without me, the Gators ended up winning the championship.  Yup, they sure did.  I remember, the coach came by my house one evening and he was carrying a trophy.  He said that the team had won it all and even though I hadn’t finished the season, he wanted me to have a trophy.  I probably mumbled something about quitting because I was hit by a semi-truck and thanked him for bringing the trophy by.  The truth was there was no excuse—I just quit. And the other truth is because of that, the trophy meant absolutely, the grand total of—nothing.  I didn’t earn it and I didn’t deserve it.  Not because I wasn’t good, but because I didn’t finish.

I really don’t have a lot of regrets in life but that is a small one I do own.  I’m ok with not being tall and gifted in sports, but I’m not ok with being a quitter.  Not then—not now. If I had waited, I could have been a champion, but I didn’t wait it out.  You know there was a guy in the Bible who had the same issue.  God had promised him a son, an heir.  The only problem was he and his wife were old—really old.  In fact, when God told him he was going to have a son, this guy fell on his face and laughed and said, “Shall a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old? Shall Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a child?”

Instead of believing God, he decided to do things his way or really Sarah’s way. Since she couldn’t conceive, they opted for a concubine rather than wait on the miracle.  What a bad idea.  He and the concubine did have a son, but it wasn’t the son God had promised.  It really didn’t go well…and sadly it still isn’t going well.  Much of the conflict in that part of the world stems from this one man.  Oh, the consequences.

Oh, and by the way, guess what?  When they were both older than dirt, Sarah, his wife did in fact conceive and the promised son was born.  God came through after all—surprise, surprise.  If only they had finished the season…if only they had waited, how different things would have been.  The good news is that God kept His word and blessed Abraham beyond his wildest dreams. You see even though Abraham quit believing, God never quit believing in him…and He won’t quit believing in you either.  I like that…actually, I love that.  Regardless of what you are waiting on, just hang on…just be patient, just wait and see what God has in mind. He’s never late and He’s never early, He’s right on time because He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, gratitude, life, Scripture, Southern born, travel, Trials

The Devil in My Shoe

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Be sober-minded, be alert. Your adversary the devil is prowling around like a roaring lion, looking for anyone he can devour.” 1 Peter 5:8

I guess just being careful wasn’t enough.  During our recent journey south, my brother-in-law, JW, unexpectedly had a day off. Now you probably should understand that he is past the age when that should be normal, but he simply loves what he does and loves to work.  For that reason, I wasn’t too surprised when he announced that on his day off—we were going to work.

He had a couple of projects he wanted done at the lake house where we were staying and one of them included putting down some landscaping fabric in preparation for some rock that he was going to lay around the fire pit area.  No problem—well, almost.  First, for various reasons (like flying in an airplane), we didn’t make it to the work site until 3:00 pm and trust me—September or not—it can still be hot in North Georgia—and it was.

The other problem involved heat of a different kind.  At each end of the place where we were going to lay out the fabric, there were two very large Fire Ant beds. Now if you are not familiar with these demons from another very hot place, their bite is terrible.  It will fester and can be painful and itchy for weeks after the attack.  I determined then and there to stay far away from the two beds.

Well, for whatever reason, JW decided to attack the beds with his string trimmer (something that I would not recommend) which accomplished two things.  First, it made the Fire Ants very mad and second, it scattered them from here to kingdom come. Well, even with all of that I still managed to stay away from these nasty insects and avoid their bite—or so I thought.

That night, I noticed my big toe on my foot was itchy and a little painful. Well, since I had good shoes on with tight fitting socks, I didn’t think a thing about it—until bedtime. I slipped off my shoes and socks and right there, against all odds was a Fire Ant bite in all its not-glory.  Well, I had to scratch it and, well, it is still there almost a week later.  My question was, “How in the world did that devil get in my shoe and through my sock?”  I don’t know but I sure wish he hadn’t.

You see, sometimes you can do everything right and still end up with a devil in your shoe. Thinking back, maybe I should have spoken up and encouraged JW not to stir the pot with his string trimmer. Maybe I should have stayed even further away—like a mile or two. Like I said, I don’t know but this I do know.  When the Fire Ants (or the devil) are around we have got to do everything, we can to stay clear.  We may still get a bite but at least we would have done everything we could and should do to avoid their (or his) nasty bite.

I do think the next time I work with JW and there are Fire Ants involved, I believe I will consult an expert just to be sure I know everything I should know. And the next time I see the devil in my neighborhood, I believe I’ll get some advice from my Dearest Daddy. I’m sure He will give me some wise counsel—after all, as always, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Three Days, Day 2

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and He delights in his way. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down; for the Lord upholds him with His hand.” Psalm 37:23-24

 I never saw it coming. Day one of “Three Days” was so awesome you would think that the day following a trophy day would be at least somewhat awesome, right?  Let me tell you that is not always the case.  If you read, “Three Days, Day One” you know that my day job is being a pastor and one day recently, I and the church, had a “trophy Sunday.”  Now I need to be honest and let you know that not every Sunday qualifies as a “trophy Sunday.”  In fact, some of them can be pretty difficult but that’s not a deal because it is just the way life goes.  “Less than days” have nothing to do with where you work or what you do—it has to do with life.  Like I said in day one, when you have a really good day, put it on your trophy shelf so you can easily find it when you need a reminder that you are blessed.

Well, you know that Mondays always follow Sundays.  It is no accident that Mondays get a bad rap.  It just seems that if you are going to have a challenging day, Mondays get the call and in my case, that is exactly what happened.  So after the trophy day at church that Sunday, I bounded (slight overstatement there) out of bed about 4:10 am, ready to embrace the day.  Because it was Thanksgiving Week and because my wife Judy and I were taking a trip down south to see family, I only had two days in the office that week.  I expected and needed some productive time.  There were several things that just had to get done before I left but I was confident that I could get it done.  So, like a horse in the starting gate, I raced to the office…early.

When I got to the office, for fortification, I made a cup of coffee and then hit the spacebar on my computer and immediately noticed that it was a little slow to wake up. “Hmmm,” I said, wondering what was up with that. It did eventually start responding but things were just not right.  One of the things I had to get done was to update the electronic sign for our church.  To do that my Apple computer needed to talk to the sign which— speaks Windows—think EngIish and German. I have a program on my computer that is supposed to act like a translator but it was on strike. From there things just went downhill.  Not only was the Apple computer not speaking to the Windows sign, everything, and I mean everything,  just came to a standstill.  No matter what I did, no matter how many times I restarted the computer, nothing helped. I watched the clock as my precious day slipped away through my idle hands.

Now, I believe in God.  I believe that God directs my day and my path.  One of my favorite verses in the Bible says, “The steps of a good man (good as in God’s goodness) are directed by the Lord and it is He who directs His path.”  I know it and I believe it though my faith that particular day was sagging.  In fact, I left the office that day feeling just a little put off with God.  I mean didn’t He know I had to get this stuff done?  Didn’t He know I only had a little time to get a lot done?  Well, I finally just blurted out to Him, “God why are you doing this to me.” I was frustrated and maybe, just maybe a little angry…if not at God at least the circumstances.  Looking back, I realized that I was having a little case of “spiritual amnesia.”

Spiritual Amnesia?  Yup…it’s a real deal and I really had it.  You see, I had forgotten the “trophy Sunday” and even forgot to revisit it to remind me of God being a good God.  I had forgotten that I believe that God directs and plans my day…meaning He had planned that day as an exercise of faith and trust…in Him.  I forgot it all and that was not fair to Him, my wife, Judy, who bore some of the brunt of my frustration and anybody else who happened to be close enough to feel and hear my frustration that day.  Are you getting the picture that Monday was not a “trophy day?” Ever had a day like that?  Trust me, I get it and I understand and so does our Dearest Daddy.

Well, that night, I sat down at my home computer and worked and watched how that same God that I had grumbled about multiplied my time and efforts and much of what I needed to get done, got done in just a couple of hours.  It was then that my “spiritual amnesia” fog began to clear.  It was then that I remembered that God doesn’t do things to people…He does things for people.  You see that non-trophy day was about learning—-I was in “God school” and He was teaching me things like faith, trust and patience.  I also remembered the rest of that favorite verse.  It says that even if I should stumble and fall, I will not, can not, be completely cast down because He, God, will pick me up.  I may fall in a mud puddle of frustration but He loves me too much to leave me there.

So the day ended better than it started.  I went to bed that night with a feeling that no matter what tomorrow held, I would do what I could do and just leave the rest to Him.  I got out of bed, had my coffee and had a little talk with Him and He whispered to me that He would be with me that day and that no matter what He would not abandon me.  I knew that somehow the third day of “Three Days” was going to be ok and that what I write each day is indeed true, “He’s got this.” Brother Dewayne