Category: fear

Posted in fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, thankful, Trials, wisdom

God’s Perspective

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

We love because He first loved us.” 1 John 4:19 (CSB)

They were all heading straight for disaster, and they didn’t have a clue.  So, I was walking on our local bike path the other day.  It was early morning but not so early that the sun wasn’t already hot.  It was going to be warm one—especially for this time of year.  As I was walking, I looked down and saw several, no many, earthworms on the bike trail. They were trying to make it across.

I know, you’re thinking, “Why did the earthworm cross the bike path?”  The answer is “I don’t know but it sure wasn’t going well.”  Some had already bit the bullet and others were in the struggle of their wormy lives.  Most were squirming…doing everything they could to make it to the other side.  The only thing is I could see what they could not.  They were a long way from home.

I can just imagine one of the worms with the gift of leadership shouting to his friends, “Keep going guys.  You can make it.  Just a little further.”  The trouble is he just didn’t have the whole picture…the view from above.  From his perspective the end was right over there.  From his perspective just a few more inches and they would be home free. Perspectives from ground level are often like that.  That is why we need someone with a better view.

One of the things I love about believing in God is knowing that He has a higher, better view. He can see things that you just can’t see at ground level.  And when He speaks…He speaks true encouragement because He knows what is around the bend or a few days down the road.  God is really good at helping His kids do life.  If only we would learn to listen.  If only…

See, I talked to some of the earthworms as I walked.  I would say things like, “It’s not looking good, partner.”  Or maybe, “Dude, you’re not gonna make it squirming like that.” Then, “Hey, why are you crossing the bike path anyway?”  I just had to ask. Well, no one listened and on they squirmed.  It was going to be hard day for most of them.

And, then, and this is the truth, I would sometimes stop and actually pitch one or two of them into the cool, wet grass.  It was a random thing I would do.  I would stop, pick one out, and chuck them to the side.  While not one of them said “thanks” it was enough for me to save him or her from the dreaded concrete desert. It just felt good to save a life—even if it was just an earthworm.  I just hope it wasn’t his cousin I put on a hook last week.

When I thought about this whole perspective and rescue thing I just naturally thought about God.  Along with His great perspective, He cares enough to rescue us.  He wants to rescue every person from an eternity without Him.  I mean He loves us so much…and He loved us before we even thought about loving Him.  The Bible says that we love Him because He first loved us.  He saw all our warts, all our imperfections, all our bad choices and chose to love us anyway.  He loved us before we even promised to try and do things right.  A promise, by the way, that we could never keep anyway.

Sometimes, I would pick an earthworm to save for no apparent reason.  I just picked one.  God said, “That will never do.” And do you know what, He loved the whole world…everybody…everyone.  Now we still have to choose to repent, choose to follow, choose to believe.  But when we do…well, the welcome sign is out.  Welcome home, son.  Welcome home, daughter. And this is the best part.  Should we wander back onto the concrete desert, He doesn’t say, “Good grief or good luck.”  No, He just reaches out, takes us by the hand and pulls us back into the cool, green grass called His presence.  You gotta love that.

Well, I don’t know if you will ever feel compelled to rescue an earthworm or not.  But the next time you see one on the sidewalk on a hot day, just remember the time He rescued you.  Remember the time He didn’t leave you out in the hot to become a crispy critter.  No, He reached down and picked you up.  Isn’t it great to have a God that cares? That you can rest in?  A Father that’s got this? Yup…I know it’s so. Bro. Dewayne

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

Waverly

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

When you go through deep waters, I will be with you.” Isaiah 43:2

It was only three hours away, but it was another world.  A short while ago a horrible and intensely powerful flash flood ravaged a small town in Western Tennessee. A small, benign creek traced its way through the center of town.  It is appropriately named, “Trace Creek.” Normally only a couple of feet deep, it gently winds for several miles surrounded by hills.  On a Saturday, a storm system set up shop right over that region and seventeen inches of rain fell in a short period of time. Disaster was coming.

As the rainwater funneled from the hills to the valley, Trace Creek became the collecting point and soon what was a benign creek became a killing flood.  The water rose not in hours but minutes—not in inches, but feet.  A railroad bed that was holding some of the torrent back gave way and a twenty-foot wall of water came down on the town.  As it did, death and destruction struck on what can be only described as “biblical proportions.” As the kid’s song from Sunday school says, the flood was deep, and the flood was wide.

In that short period of time cars became boats and houses were swept off their foundations.  Fences were laid over and trees and power poles were simply bowled over by the force of the water.  Sadly, over twenty people lost their lives and many, many more, were injured. I’m sure no one went to bed the night before dreaming of a flood, at least not of this proportion. It was a nightmare from nowhere.  In a couple or three hours it was over leaving behind a disaster zone that will take years to recover and rebuild.  Some, like the loss of life, will never be the same.

Our church had a personal touch with this small West Tennessee town as a couple of our families moved there last year.  While they were safe, many of their friends were not.  They quickly became important cogs in the wheels of rescue and recovery and that’s where we had an opportunity to help.  We had recently hosted our “Back to School” community event and because of COVID, the crowd had been smaller than in previous years and we had many school supply bags left over and several hundred pair of shoes.  We were disappointed, but suddenly something began to make sense.  It was an opportunity.

At the invitation of one of churches there, we loaded up the supplies and shoes and headed to West Tennessee.  When we arrived, the destruction was beyond description.  Our small Southern Illinois city had suffered an F-4 tornado in 2012 so we knew about disasters but this, this was beyond even what we had experienced.  Soon we were setup and giving away the supplies and shoes.  There were stories, there were tears, and there were thanks.  At the end of a hot day, we were the ones who were blessed.

As was the case for us in 2012, their town actually experienced another kind of flood…a flood of kindness, generosity, and love.  Hundreds, if not thousands, of people poured in to offer any help they could give.  Restaurants and stands were set up offering free food and supplies. Life necessities were given to anyone with a need.  It was amazing especially in a world of “me first”. It was obvious that is not always the case.  Love and generosity ruled the day.

Across the street from where we were working was a house that had been flooded with about four feet of water. As cleanup started, the owners had emptied all of their contents and piled them by the road.  I looked and in one of the discarded chairs was a large, white Bible. It didn’t seem right to see it discarded, so I went and asked the owners if I could get it and take it home.  They were grateful.  You see, it had been wet in the flood and couldn’t stay, but it’s present place, in the trash, was not a statement of their faith.  They just didn’t know what to do.  So, it is with me…a reminder of my day in that small West Tennessee town…a town called Waverly.

The story of the Bible, and that it was not discarded because of a lack of faith, was a blessing to me.  People in that disaster didn’t give up on God or each other for that matter.  They chose to still believe…in God, in their town, and in each other.  As I said it will take years, but Waverly will come back, and they will be stronger than before. Their situation reminds me of a verse in the Old Testament that says, “When you go through deep waters, I will be with you.”

You see, even in the midst of disaster, even when our circumstances don’t make a lick of sense, and these days that is often every day, well, He is still there.  Even when we go through the darkest valley we don’t have to fear because He is with us.  No matter how high the water or how hard the circumstances, listen, and you will hear the Whisperer whispering, “Rest in Me.  I’ve got this.”   Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, prayer, Scripture, thankful, Trials

No Trespassing

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are My disciples.” John 13:35

It was kinda confusing.  A while back I was walking in our neighborhood.  It was early in the morning and the birds were singing, the sun was shining and as Mister Rogers would say, “It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood.”  As I was walking, I would look at the different houses and their yards.  I noticed that several, well actually more than several of the homes, had no trespassing signs in their yard or stuck on the house. One home had six or seven signs and about a half dozen security cameras.  I think they must have had something very important inside.

I’m not sure what the deal is but there probably is a valid reason. But being from the friendly side of the South, we generally didn’t stick “no trespassing” signs up.  More than likely, we would stick up a “hey, y’all come on in” sign.  Of course, that was several decades ago and maybe now they have some not so friendly signs up too.  At any rate this is America, and you can pretty much put up what you want as long as it isn’t too mean.  But this one house confused me.

As you probably can guess, they had a no trespassing sign.  But right next to the no trespassing sign, they had a big welcome sign.  It caused me to wonder which one was right.  I didn’t know if I was welcome to come up on the porch and sit, or I was going to get shot if I did.  I wasn’t sure so I kept right on walking, and I was real sure I didn’t want to find out. To be sure there are lots of times when we also seem to send a conflicting message.

Sometimes I see this in churches.  There will be a sign on the message board that says everyone welcome.  There might even be a parking spot in the parking lot that says, “reserved for guests.”  Sometimes they have people standing at the door to shake your hand when you come in.  But then I wonder, “do they really mean that or are they trying to act nice?”  I mean everyone expects churches to be friendly because Jesus was.  He liked everybody.  I heard a preacher say once that it was pretty amazing that people who were the least like Jesus, felt the most comfortable around Him.  It seemed they liked Him, and He liked them.

On the other hand, Jesus was always bumping heads with the religious elite.  Theoretically they should have been the most like Him, but they didn’t like Him and I’m not sure He was too fond of them.  Of course, Jesus was always trying to find the best in others but some of those guys in the New Testament were really mean.  I don’t think there was a welcome sign on their house for either Jesus or the ones He hung out with.

However, there was one group they really didn’t like and that was the tax collectors.  They worked for the Roman government, and they were seen as thieves and traitors.

Do you know what Jesus did?  Jesus invited one of them to be a part of His inner circle.  Can you even imagine that?  “Hey Matthew,” Jesus said, “why don’t you come and be a part of our group?”  I bet the religious guys about fainted and so did the rest of Jesus’ followers.  I can just hear them now, “Well, there goes the neighborhood.”  They might have been right, but Jesus was always more concerned for the neighbor than the neighborhood.  He really loved people.

When Jesus was explaining to those who followed Him how people would know that they were friends with Jesus, do you know what He said?  It wasn’t because they went to church on Sunday.  It wasn’t because they knew all the answers.  And it wasn’t even because they wore the right kind of clothes when they were hanging around Jesus.  Nope.  Jesus said that people would know that we were friends with Jesus because of the way they loved—and in particular… loved each other.  This is never a popular topic when I speak in church. The reason is it is a lot easier to dress right, talk right, and go to church, than to love someone—particularly someone who is not very lovable.  But that is what He said do.

There is a secret to loving others.  All we need to do is remember that when we were not lovable at all, Jesus chose to love us.  And if we will let that roll around in our heads and hearts a while, I think we will find that loving others is just a little bit easier.  The next time you are all worked up about something, maybe trying to love someone, just get up next to Jesus and sit awhile.  You won’t find a no trespassing sign there…just one that says “welcome.”  And you can just sit back and let Him handle whatever you’re stressed about…because He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Invincible

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

The Lord watches over the foolish; when I was helpless, He saved me.” Psalm 116:6

It was the day of my Daddy’s funeral. I was 20 years old, into my second year in the Air Force and I was pretty much convinced I was invincible.  When you are a young buck, independent and all that, it seems you are going to live forever…and I guess you think that those around you will too.  That Sunday in July 1974 changed all that.  That day my Daddy slipped away from us, and we were left to say goodbye.  So, I’m sure there were trips to the funeral home, conversations with the pastor, and details to be ironed out.  And then suddenly it was the day of the funeral.

For some reason I don’t remember much about the service.  I remember walking into the church and my then girlfriend telling me not to cry.  I guess big boys don’t cry after all.  I remember a church mostly filled and I remember we sang the old hymn, “In the Garden.”  Beyond that there is a void…an emptiness…until lunch.  Down south the answer to everything is food…and that is especially true when it comes to grieving.

We had dinner at the home place and there were plenty of people and plenty of food.  I was standing out in the backyard talking with a bunch of guys.  One of the neighborhood guys I grew up with had a new Honda 750 motorcycle.  Like I said…when you are 20 you think you are invincible or maybe since I had just come from my Daddy’s funeral, I needed to prove that I thought I was.  Regardless, he asked me if I wanted to take it for a ride.

Now a Honda 750 is a lot of motorcycle…especially for 1974.  I mounted my metal steed and headed for the road.  The roads were Wheat, Firestone, 118th St., and Ricker. They formed a very large block about a mile each way. If you took four right turns, you would end up back where you started.  At first, I went easy because my experience on motorcycles was just about like it was for horses…an occasional ride…very occasional. I made the first right onto Firestone and a mile later made my second right onto 118th.  I’m not sure what prompted it, but I decided to see how fast the Honda would go. So, I opened the throttle and quickly shifted through the gears.  I was going fast…too fast.

Before I knew it I was somewhere over 100 miles an hour on a one mile stretch of road on a machine I knew little about. I looked up and coming up very quickly was the stop sign where the road ended at Ricker Road.  I needed to stop so I began to downshift and hit the brakes and somehow, someway I managed to bring me and the Honda to a stop.  My heart was just about to jump out of my chest and all of a sudden, I didn’t feel very invincible. In fact, I felt quite the opposite.  Suddenly I realized that life can be very fragile.  I got back to the house in one piece.  I’m sure I shared the story with the guys and we probably all had a good laugh but one of us wasn’t laughing on the inside.

You see that day I came face to face not with my invincibility but rather my mortality. I realized that life was precious and was something to be valued and guarded. I’m still not sure what I was trying to prove that day or maybe it was some sort of weird ritual thing that boys do when their Daddy dies.  I know this.  If my Daddy had been there that day there would have been a very serious discussion about me, motorcycles, and safety.  But, fortunately, my Dearest Daddy was there to watch over me. And even though I was not acting responsibility or even rationally, He still cared, He still rescued me. The Psalmist writes in Psalm 116:6 “The Lord watches over the foolish; when I was helpless, He saved me.”

My earthly Daddy, after our talk, would have extended grace that day. My Heavenly Father extended grace too that day.  He watched over me, protected me, and gave me the opportunity to live and experience life.  Thanks, Father.  Over the decades of my life since that hot July day on the day of my Daddy’s funeral, I have experienced God’s grace over and over, again.  He has been there for me and from experience I can tell you for a fact that He does indeed, “have this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials, wisdom

He’s Writing a New Story

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

God, who began the good work within you, will continue His work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.” Philippians 1:6

“Do you have a pencil?” he asked.  Realizing there were plenty of kinds of pencils he added, “You know, the old-fashioned kind?”  I’m not sure why he needed it, but I rummaged through my desk drawer and found one.  I think he needed one with lead on one end and an eraser on the other.  The kind where you use one end to write a story or make a mark and the other you use to remove your “oops.” Today we are more likely to use the delete key on a keyboard. Erasers were my friends. Delete keys are my new friend. It makes my oops disappear.  I have a lot of oops.

My delete key changes things.  As I look back over the last year, I am still amazed at the way things were shutdown.  I was even more amazed as I was forced to go to my calendar and delete things.  On my personal calendar and on the church calendar, one by one, meetings and events were deleted. It was difficult for me…it was difficult for us and in the midst of it all, I almost lost sight of the big picture…a picture so big only God could be holding the brush.

One day I found myself staring at the calendar like a blank canvas and I realized what had been planned didn’t matter anymore. But here is the really, good part. The space that was cleared left plenty of room–room for God to write a new story. A different story. A better story. Things like a new Wednesday program for our church was born.  In the white space created by that largely empty calendar, Grits was born. The bottom line is without God orchestrating the delete button, things that needed to change would have stayed the same. A new men’s, ladies, and children’s program would not have been born.  And a year’s worth of Grit’s stories would still be in my head and heart but not on the page. The thing I resisted led to the freedom to do it.

I’ve heard stories of different ways God used that hot mess to rewrite lives.  We saw what could happen if we started to freely, to openly, invite Him to use the delete button and rewrite the stories of our lives.  We discovered opportunities, adventures that suddenly filled the pages of our lives.  A walk to the park became a safari. Homemade pizza night became an edible art gallery. The dining room table was cleared, and we pulled out the family games that had stayed in the closet too long.

Cards were written, calls made, and stories shared.  Think about it. Remember how the kids’ faces lit up as they heard again how you met each other or how you met Jesus? Think of the new stories yet to be told as we look back when things were so hard, and we all learned how to trust God for help.  We saw faith leaping off the page of the Bible and right onto the pages of our lives. If we asked, we might hear our kids tell us “Mom, Dad that bad time was the best time because we got to be together.” How about that?

Yes, those really were challenging times.  Financially. Emotionally. Spiritually.  And honesty…they still are. But what if God is writing a new story that in the end is the stuff of legends?  What if in a few years these days are some of the best memories?  And it was all possible because we said, “Ok God–go ahead and use the delete key.  I’m trusting that Your story is better than my story. I’m trusting You.”

You see, God’s best use of the delete key is when He applies His grace to our sins, our mistakes, our misguided decisions, our oops.  New pasts and new futures are His specialties, and they are often written in crazy days like these.  So, go ahead, press that delete key. Rest in Him.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, love, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Free to Be Me

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

God saw all that He had made, and it was very good indeed. Evening came and then morning: the sixth day.” Genesis 1:31

It was a profound statement.  It was1967 and I was in junior high.  In Jacksonville that meant grades 7-9 and it meant a whole different world from elementary school.  For the first time we went to separate classes and actually got to choose some of our food at lunch in the cafeteria. I remember, for a dime, you could actually buy a bowl of french fries. While they weren’t anything like McDonald’s, I do believe they were potatoes, and they were long and skinny.

It may have been the sixties, but there were rules. For the girls skirts and dresses had to be a certain length. For the guys your hair could only be so long and then there were the big three: shirt tucked in, wear a belt, and socks.  Break those and you and the principal had a date.  By the time I was in the ninth grade, things were relaxing some and that included the big three.  On Fridays, boys were allowed to untuck their shirts, not wear a belt, and not wear socks. Holy moly, what was the world coming to?  Looking back, the cool thing was to take the socks that you weren’t wearing and put them hanging out of your rear pant’s pocket.  Every Friday, my shirt was out, my belt stayed home, and my socks were flapping in the breeze.  Do you know why?  It was cool…and I wanted to be cool. I wanted to be in. I wanted to be accepted.

As you know, through the years the trends have changed, styles have come and gone, and so have the labels.  In high school Gold Toe socks were coveted and so were Gant shirts. We couldn’t afford either but when I joined the Air Force and could shop at the Base Exchange, they carried both and both became part of my world.  I was cool. I was in. I was accepted. Some things never change, and this is one of those.  There was always something that someone was wearing that if you had it, you just knew you would feel cool…accepted…part of the “in” crowd.  When I came to my current church, it was  shirts with ponies and shoes named “Crocs.” Whatever the newest label, and there was always one, peer pressure and the desire to be cool, accepted, and in, pushed and pulled.  It seemed I always wanted to be what someone else was.

Thankfully, some of that has changed.  Ponies and crocs aren’t really that cool anymore, and I’m starting to realize that a label doesn’t define who I am.  I.Am.Me. In fact, my four favorite shirts are from Walmart and cost a grand total of $9.88 each. There’s nothing on the pocket—they are just plain shirts which is pretty cool, because I define them…they don’t define me.

I read something this morning that was just profound.  Here it is. Are you ready?  “Each person was born an original; no one should die a copy.” Wow.  It goes like this.  Somewhere in heaven, God came up with a design plan for me.  He wrote the design and then declared it an original and just right. In fact, in Genesis 1:31, the Bible says, “God saw all that He had made, and it was very good indeed.” And do you know what?  That includes me and that includes you. There is not another me or you, anywhere, and that was intentional. I don’t need to be you and you don’t need to be me. We just need to be who God made us. Sure, fashion labels are fine, and I’m even sure there is a perfect weight and height, but those don’t dictate who we are…God does.

In the years that God gives me, I hope I will remember this.  When the clock stops ticking, the heart stops beating, and you are having a chicken dinner somewhere in my honor, I hope someone will be able to say, “That Dewayne, he was an original. God broke the mold when He made him.”  I don’t want to die a copy…I want to die an original.

Given my bent to be a people pleaser and desire to be cool, accepted and in, I’m sure that will be a challenge. Gratefully, my Dearest Daddy will be with me along the way to remind me that I am a custom-made job, and you are too.  And, if I am wise enough to ask and listen, He will help me be me.  Oh, and if I struggle, and I will, and you will too, just listen as He reassures us that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Life on the Bench

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:9

It’s hard to be on the bench when the team is on the field. I guess when they were giving out abilities for sports I was in the wrong line.  It just never was my strong suit. My first and only experience with little league ball didn’t happen till I was probably in the fourth grade.  I joined a team and clearly wasn’t going to be a starter.  When I did play it was right field.  Actually, it was about this time I began to learn about prayer.  As soon as I took the field, I would pray that the other team wouldn’t hit a ball in right field.  That didn’t work too well.  My other and more serious prayer meetings occurred at the plate. I didn’t pray to get on base…I prayed to survive.

So even though I felt safest on the bench, it wasn’t where I wanted to be.  I wanted to be a hero, a winner, and from where I sat the bench was for the guys who weren’t good enough.  It was there that I learned to hate the bench and I would spend the rest of my life relearning that sometimes the bench is where God teaches us our greatest lessons. In fact, I am learning that any place God puts you is the place to be.  The bench is not for losers or second-stringers, no, it is for people willing to trust that He knows best.

In 2018, I had a hard lesson to learn.  My wife Judy and I were leading a mission team to Uganda, East Africa.  We arrived in Africa and made it to the guest house.  My first night there, the night before we were to leave for the islands to work, I came down with the flu…the real flu.  The team had to go on without me and Judy stayed back to help care for me.  Boy, I didn’t like that, but later I did begin to understand it.  It turns out that God raised others to lead, and the team went on to do some great work.  While I hated not being there to lead, God had a better plan.  And, I think He just did it again.

This past weekend was our first Back to School Community Outreach since COVID or as it turned out…in the midst of COVID.  This event draws hundreds of people and as pastor, I was a key leader, and my wife was in charge of the event.  Tuesday, I started having some symptoms of what I thought was my annual sinus thing.  It wasn’t…it was COVID.  I was down and out for the count and Judy was quarantined.  Once again, God chose…God chose…to remove the two key leaders.  The reason? Well, I don’t have all the answers to that one, but I do know He had a plan, and He can be trusted.

If the past is any indicator, it was about giving other leaders a chance to lead and letting the church be the church even when certain people are not there.  It was a challenge. It was a test. It was an opportunity to trust the Lord.  Well, normally, I would have been stomping my feet about being on the bench…but not this time.  No, I’m slowly learning that God is better at being God than I am.  I am learning that He is smarter than me, more caring than me and never, ever, makes a mistake.  My only job is to trust Him and learn whatever He wants me to personally learn.

I didn’t chose this dance with Corena…my pet name for the COVID.  I didn’t ask her to dance…she just cut in and changed my immediate plans.  It happened in 2018 with the flu in Africa and most likely it will happen again sometime in the future. In the Old Testament part of the Bible, God says, “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.” My response can only be, “Yes, Lord.”

Fortunately my dance with Corena is almost history and hopefully I have learned all I need to learn from this time on the bench.  I’m sure it includes that no matter what—God is good, God is faithful, and God can be trusted.  Oh, and it also includes another dose of, “Don’t worry, son, I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Dancing With Corena

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Consider it a great joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you experience various trials.” James 1:2

I didn’t even know she was invited to the dance and I certainly don’t remember dancing with her.  Her name is Corena…my new name for COVID-19.  As we all know, in early March 2020, the word on everyone’s lips was the COVID-19 or the corona virus.  Regardless, it changed our lives.  We went through lockdowns, closedowns, and mask mandates.  Toilet paper and dozens of other items suddenly flew off the shelves and became hot items on the black market.  Myself included and millions of others escaped the initial onset of the virus, and I breathed a sigh of relief when at the end of January, I was able to get the first of two shots of the Moderna vaccine.  A month later I received my second shot, and I counted the days, hours, and minutes for the next two weeks.  I made it. I was fully vaccinated and fully expected not to have to endure a personal attack of the COVID-19 virus.

I know in our area there were like 13,000 people fully vaccinated.  Of those, there were only 41 break-through cases—cases of people getting the virus after being fully vaccinated.  Imagine only 41 out of 13,000. Those were odds I could live with.  Well, I guess I should go buy a lottery ticket because I became one of those break-through cases.  I had unknowingly danced with Corena, and lost. It went like this. Last Tuesday, I woke up with a bit of a cough…not the deep throaty kind but the itchy, catch in your throat kind. You know, these days if you cough people scatter in six different directions. Well, I went to work and told my co-workers not to worry. “Just allergies,” I said. “It happens every year,” I said. And it does, but not this time.

That night I slept horrible.  When my wife got up that morning, I explained I had really slept poorly.  “Just allergies,” she said. “It happens every year,” she said.  So then I merrily went to work at the office, attributing my occasional cough to allergies and my tiredness to lack of sleep.  Wednesday night was, well, not fun.  I tossed, turned, coughed, got hot and then got cold.  In the morning, I told Judy that I thought I had a sinus infection.  I messaged my friend and doctor to see if he would write me a script for an antibiotic…like a Z-Pack. At Judy’s prodding, I also told him that I would take a COVID test if he felt I should.   He thought it wise.  I have a wise friend and doctor.

So, it was Thursday morning, when I got tested and twenty-five minutes later I learned that I had indeed danced with Corena—the COVID virus.  I don’t know where I got it, nor does that matter.  What I do know is that in a matter of a few hours I had a new respect for the virus and those who danced with her before it became my turn. I felt awful.  In fact, referring to my heart stint deal three years ago, I told my daughter I would take the heart attack over my dance with Corena. Judy said I was talking out of my head.  No, I really think I would.  I managed to have almost all the symptoms and none of them made my list of top things I want to do again.

Well, if nothing else comes out of this, I know I have a better empathy for others.  You see empathy is the ability to understand and share the feelings of another. It is to walk a mile or so in someone else’s shoes.  I have prayed for a lot of people who danced with Corena, and I promise you I will pray a little harder now. I have felt sympathy for those who have suffered from the dance, but I will feel a deeper sympathy now.

There is one thing that didn’t change from my dance with Corena.  It is my absolute certainty that God is in absolute control of every aspect of my life…and yours.  He allowed me to dance with her so that I could learn about empathy, and sympathy, and maybe, just maybe, about slowing down because trust me…I slowed down.  Remember that verse that James the half-brother of Jesus wrote that said, “Hey, count it all joy when you find yourself in all kinds of trials?” Well, I’ve taught that Biblical joy is a “deep sense of wellbeing based on one’s faith in God and trust in His sovereign will.”  It is the chance to test what you say you believe.  Now, that’s a good thing.

So, if you have danced, or are dancing with Corena…I feel your pain.  If your family has suffered loss after the dance, I hurt with you and pray you will keep trusting the heavenly Father.  And I know one more thing.  I always try to end my story with the words, “He’s got this.”  Well, I am more, not less, convinced that He does indeed, “have this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, Trials

I Just Couldn’t Resist

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.” (Hebrews 12:11)

I just couldn’t resist.  All of us have stories that we don’t necessarily remember but are passed down through the years.  Some are humorous, some are serious, and some are the things legends are made of.  Well, this one I believe qualifies as all three. 

When I was quite young, probably six or seven, life was pretty good.  We lived in a country setting that was rapidly becoming the suburbs of Jacksonville, Florida.  There was a subdivision being built right next to where we lived.  Some of the men who were working there would drive these cool wedge shape sticks in the ground at the corners of each lot.  They had numbers on them.  They were surveyor markers for the lots.  We thought they made great rubber band guns so we would help ourselves.  We had an endless supply of rubber bands because the newspaper came each day with one or two wrapped around it. We weren’t trying to be mischievous; we were just trying to have fun.  I bet it wasn’t fun for the guys who did the surveying.

Sometimes, our fun might become someone else’s pain.  And, this is where the story really begins.  Back in those days, going to the grocery store was the great adventure.  My dad got paid every other Friday.  Payday night we would load up in the car and go to buy groceries.  It seemed we would always buy the stuff to make sandwiches for supper when we got home which invariably included a gallon of chocolate milk.  It never saw the light of the next morning.

Well, one Friday night, we were at the grocery store and apparently, I had a rubber band left over from my adventures that day. I must have reached in my pocket and found the small piece of rubber and thought, “You know, we can have some fun with this.”  Well, I probably should have thought that through a little better, but when you are six or seven and mischievous by nature, anything is game.  I started looking for targets.

Down the aisle was a rather large woman.  And what happens next has been blocked from my memory but is stated as fact.  As we got closer to the woman, perhaps as she studied what brand of mayo to buy, I took the rubber band, placed it between my thumb and pointer finger, moved my hand, in close proximity to the intended target and let it fly.  I can only imagine what happened next.

First, I am certain she was shocked.  It must have felt like a killer bee had bit her but that wasn’t logical since she was in a store.  I’m thinking she probably spun around and looked only to see this smiling kid with a rubber band still in his hand.  To me it was all fun.  To her it was all pain.  Lesson one.  Don’t let your fun become someone else’s pain.

Second, I am certain my parents were devastated.  Since this would have been about 1960 or 61 there were not the social rules about child discipline that we have today.  Knowing my Daddy and Momma, there was probably swift and lethal retribution.  I can imagine one of them, perhaps both of them, making sure my bottom felt like her bottom.  No one would have called Children and Family Services.  They all would have said, “Let me help you with that.”

Third, I believe that this was when I began to really understand repentance.  Repentance means to turn around and go in a different direction.  If I could have gotten loose from Daddy that night, I would have definitely practiced repentance…I probably would still be running.  The other meaning of repentance is to have a change in attitude.  I am certain that happened.  If you were to ask me how many other times I decided to pop a strange lady with a rubber band in the grocery store that number would be zero.  Somehow the urge suddenly left me.  I had repented.

This is going to sound hokey, but it is memories like this that show how much my parents loved me.  They loved me enough to teach me right from wrong, respect for other people, a strong work ethic and to believe in God.  And they loved me enough to give me a swat or two when I needed it.  It all came together to help me grow, and live and love.

God is the same way.  My Daddy and Momma loved me very much, but God outshines even them.  He loves me and teaches me to do life with fewer oops and fewer consequences. I never carry rubber bands in my pocket just to avoid the temptation.  But He also loves me enough to discipline me when I need it. The author of Hebrews says it best.  He writes, “No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.” Spot on.  He must have popped some lady too.

So, try and show some grace.  I shouldn’t have popped the lady and I haven’t popped any more.  Don’t judge my parents for taking care of the problem.  I am grateful for the way they raised me.  And don’t be mad at God if He disciplines you.  He is way too wise to make a mistake and way too loving to do the wrong thing.  He is our “Abba Father,” our Dearest Daddy so we can trust Him.  We can rest in Him.  Because…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, wisdom

This is the Day

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

If we are unfaithful, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny who He is.” 2 Timothy 2:13

It was Saturday morning.  I like Saturdays…especially early in the morning.  I usually get up somewhere between 4.30am and 5.00am.  There is no alarm and no reason…it is just something that I do and have done for years.  I immediately head to my trusty Keurig for a cup of inspiration and then watch a few minutes of the Weather Channel before heading over to the farm show.  I know, I am not a farmer but for some reason it is part of my Saturday routine.  They do have a weather report that is like the old fashion days…you know not a lot of fancy stuff just some weather maps and a few graphics. After that comes some time with God. I read, we talk and well, it’s just a great way to start any day but especially…Saturday.

So, this past Saturday, after the normal routines were done I decided to make another cup of coffee and take it outside. It was still early…you know that time when night is still lingering but it is definitely on the run. It’s a mixture of grays with just a hint of promise starting to peek in the East.  As I walked out onto our driveway, I looked to my left, to the East, and saw a bit of that promise.  From where I was standing, I could see the Christian Church that sits over on the next block.  They have those frosted, glass block windows that were all the rage in the 1940’s. One of those windows was capturing the first rays of that day’s sun…and it was beautiful.

Reflecting on the window and filling the whole window, was a radiant color that can only be described as brilliant orange.  It was that morning’s sun, just rising above the horizon, saying, “Good Morning.”  As I looked, a verse from the Old Testament part of the Jewish and Christian Bibles, came to my mind.  It says, “This is the day that the Lord has made…I will…that is, I choose…to rejoice and be glad in it.  And, honestly, given the reflection on the glass, that might not be too difficult.

Well, I wondered if I walked north to my front yard, could I see more of the impending sunrise. So, I started walking, carefully avoiding all the small rocks on the sidewalk, that could hurt my bare feet and spoil the moment.  When I got to the front yard, there was indeed a small glimpse and this time it was the Methodist Church’s turn to be a part of the show.  This church sits just down the street from our house.  It is a majestic, old building made of brick with large columns. It could easily be a church planted on a city square somewhere down south.

And there it was…the early morning sun.  Sandwiched between two massive columns, that same brilliant orange, pierced the gray…and it was beautiful. It was so beautiful, I spoke out loud the words that had earlier came to my mind.  “This is the day that the Lord has made…I will…that is, I choose…to rejoice and be glad in it.”  It was a declaration, but it also was a celebration.  I was celebrating the faithfulness of my Dearest Daddy who had blessed me with a brilliant taste of the new day.  It.Was.Good.

It was about then that I made a connection.  It was good and so is He.  I mean, I had no idea what the day was going to hold, but if He is good then I just believed that regardless of what came, He was going to bring good from it. There is another verse that says that in the Bible, but that morning, I owned it…I believed it…by faith.  I was deciding that, regardless of that day’s circumstances, they were not going to dictate my opinion of God.  Instead, my faith in the God Who caused the sun to rise would.

Another verse popped up on my radar and it was one that I had decided to use when I shared at church on Sunday.  It was written by Paul, a guy God used to write a chunk of the New Testament and he said, “If we are unfaithful, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny who He is.” Even when I am not faithful, even when I blow it—He will be faithful.  Why? It’s just who He is, and He cannot deny Who He is.

So, today, regardless of what comes, I hope you will remember that no matter what, God is going to be faithful.  You have His word on it.  It doesn’t mean the day is guaranteed to be perfect.  It doesn’t mean that there won’t be a bump or a tragedy.  It just means that no matter what…no.matter.what…He will be there, He will be faithful and, oh yes, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne