Category: Grace

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, Grace, loving others, priorities

Pot Roast and Traditions

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

“Jesus replied, “And why do you, by your traditions, violate the direct commandments of God?” Matthew 15:3

It is a tale that I could identify with. The story is told of a young girl who was watching her mother prepare Sunday’s lunch. She watched as her mother carefully cut the pot roast in two before placing it in the pan. This intrigued her so she asked her mother why she did this. Her answer was simple and direct, “Because my mother did.” She wasn’t quite satisfied with the answer so her mother told her to go and ask grandma. And she did. Grandma gave her the same answer, “Because my mother did.” Well, the little girl decided to ask her great grandmother why she cut her roast in two. So, the next time she was at the nursing home visiting, she asked. Without missing a beat she said, “Well, honey, my pot was too small.”

Isn’t it funny how something done for a particular reason can be passed on and on. Isn’t it strange how we do something and long after the reason for doing it is gone…we keep right on doing it? I know because I’ve got a “thing” in my world. You, way back in 1985, my wife Judy and I purchased a Oldsmobile Cutlass Cruiser. It quickly became one of our favorite cars. It had the woodgrain trim down the side and seating for eight. It also had something else…it had a digital dash. Now keep in mind that was pretty high tech for 1985. Well, it had a little glitch.

That little glitch really was big one…the gas gauge was just not accurate. It often said you had more gas than you did. Well, one day, it got me…I ran out of fuel. After a lift to a station and returning with a borrowed gas can of gas, I was soon back on the road again…sing it Willie. And, that day, a new habit was born. Every time I bought fuel I would fill the tank and reset the trip odometer so I would know how far I could go. I never trusted the gauge again. So I would fill up with gas and reset the trip odometer…over and over again.

Well, one day it was time for the Oldsmobile Cruiser to cruise on and we got another car. New car, new gas gauge…no need to reset the trip odometer, right? Maybe not but the same old habit remained…always fill the tank and always reset the trip odometer. Now the gauge in the new car worked perfectly but the old habit remained. And guess what? It remains today. Here’s the deal. Thirty-seven years have come and gone and every time I buy fuel—I press reset. And if Judy happens to buy fuel instead of me, and she forgets to hit reset, I explain to her she needed to do it. And, she gives me the, “why” look and I just tell her because it’s just what we do. You might say I cut the roast in half because I always have.

So, is there something in your life that you are clinging to just because you have always done it that way? Of course it might be something that is totally harmless but sometimes…sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes it can lead to an angry exchange because someone didn’t keep the habit…the tradition. Sometimes relationships can be damaged. I’ve seen this so many times in churches. A tradition is messed with and World War III breaks out. The bottom line is there are habits, there are things, there are traditions that are noteworthy and good but we shouldn’t let them break friendships, relationships and hearts. Honestly, we may not need to cut the roast in two after all.

In the Bible back in the days of Jesus, the religious leaders added all kind of rules and traditions to their daily lives. The crazy part is they gave the traditions the same weight as the Law of God and trust me that was not a good idea. In fact, it wasn’t a good idea then and it sure isn’t now either. Jesus, talking to the temple leaders, said, “And why do you, by your traditions, violate the direct commandments of God?” Now that’s a good question.

I hope this will remind us that there are more important things to do than cutting your roast in half. In other words, there are hills worth dying on and others that should be let go. And most important, don’t let opinions and traditions drive a wedge between you and another person. It just isn’t worth it. A broken heart or relationship is far too high of a price to pay. If you ever need some advice about this, just ask your Heavenly Father. He will tell you that people matter more than pride, or traditions or habits. And if you have already made a mess with this, don’t worry, He can help with the cleanup…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, loving others, Scripture

Stinky Feet

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God. But this fragrance is perceived differently by those who are being saved and by those who are perishing.” 2 Corinthians 2:15

I smelled it as soon as I opened the door. When God made us, He did a really good job. In one place His Word says that we are fearfully and wonderfully made. In another it says that we are made just a little lower than the angels. And then at the beginning He says that we are made in His image. Wow…that is all pretty impressive. When God was working on our blueprint, He decided to give us five senses—five ways to interact with our world around us. Those five senses are touch, sight, hearing, smell, and taste. All five of them are incredible and it is almost impossible to pick one over the other. For a foodie like me, it would seem that taste would be my number one, but I’m just not sure.

If smell isn’t number one, it certainly is a close second. Smell enhances our taste and can trigger so many different emotions. Smell can change what is going on in a whole room. Many years ago, I went through a period when I had—oh, I hate to admit it—stinky feet. It was bad. To this day, I am in the habit of taking off my shoes when I am in the house. I think it is a throwback to my Southern genes. Anyway, when I would go to someone’s house, I would kick my shoes off and what was in the shoes suddenly spread throughout the room. It wasn’t pretty. I’m trying to say, it was really bad.

Within minutes, perhaps seconds, moans and groans filled the air along with the atrocious odor. There was an immediate rebellion and demands to stuff my stinky feet back into my shoes. I had no choice. The good news is that it turns out there was something about my walk-around, everyday shoes that caused the odor. When I changed shoes, the offensive odor went with them. But to this day, I (and maybe you) should be aware that certain things can cause certain reactions—and they are not always good. But, fortunately sometimes they are.

Enter Bath and Body “Leaves” candles. You probably know that Bath and Body is famous for several things but their three wick candles are—well, wicked. And one of our favorite scents is “Leaves.” It is just the essence of fall. During this time of the year I can walk into my house after a long day and as soon as I open the door a sense of calm and “all-things-good” just washes over me. I love it. Try as I may, I can’t describe it—it is just good. And then it happens.

Slowly, the longer I stay in the area where the candle is, the rich aroma of fall suddenly disappears. That smell that made me feel so relaxed seems to mysteriously disappear. But wait—don’t lose hope. If I go back outside, if I go upstairs and come back—it comes back. Once again, the rich aroma of fall invades my senses and I am changed. This cycle goes on hour after hour and day after day. In the mornings, I like another candle in my home office. It is called Teakwood Mahogany. It is a man candle. After a few minutes…I smell nothing. Judy opens the door and comes into my office and is instantly overwhelmed—almost offended—by the strong smell. Amazing.

The truth is, it can be dangerous. It isn’t dangerous if it is the scent of a candle, but what if it is the scent of love in your marriage? What if it is the scent of faith in your Dearest Daddy? What if it is the scent of contentment—in all things being well? If and when that happens—it becomes dangerous. When the aroma of life becomes like stinky feet or as bland as an unscented candle—well, it can and will lead down paths that we don’t want or need to take. Marriages go south, faith downs in fear, and discontentment creeps into every corner of our lives. At best we become unhappy, but worse, we began to throw away the things most precious to us. I am certain that in this COVID hot mess some of the things most precious to us have been cast aside like leftover food. Last night’s spaghetti becomes today’s stinky garbage. We must beware.

I think, like leaving the room refreshes the aroma, we need to keep moving. We must avoid becoming stagnate. You know what happens to a stream that stops flowing don’t you? It becomes a slimy pit. So, we need to find ways to keep our marriages, our faith, our contentment, fresh, by stirring our lives with His grace—with His presence. We have to make sure the aroma we are giving off is pleasant and not “stinky feet.”

Paul, one of the Bible writer guys, says, “Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God. But this fragrance is perceived differently by those who are being saved and by those who are perishing.” Well said, Paul, well said. What kind of aroma are you sharing with your family, your church, your workplace, your neighborhood? Is it the sweet smell of love, faith and contentment, or is it the atrocious odor of self and sin? I know one of the best things I ever did was ditch those shoes. Bye, bye stinky feet. What do we need to get rid of so we won’t be offensive but rather be welcoming? Nothing smells as sweet in our lives like the aroma of Jesus. So, sit down, pull off your shoes and rest with Him. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in food, friends, Grace, life, Scripture, Trials, wisdom

Small Things…Big Consequences

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

“Catch the foxes for us—the little foxes that ruin the vineyards.” Song of Solomon 2:15

Recently, we had a couple of visitors at our home…and they were not welcome. We all have them at one time or another…I guess. One of the things about living in an older home is they seem to always find a way in. I am talking about the little brown furry ones…mice. This time of year it seems they want to come inside out of the cold. Who can blame them? Well, I can…and they visit at their own peril.

I don’t like them and my wife Judy really doesn’t like them. So when we found out they were visiting, we launched an all out war. We set two kinds of traps and used a glue board. Well, they laughed at the glue board and the fancy new traps we bought. But the old fashioned ones finally sent them to brown furry heaven. Did I feel bad? Nope, in fact I did my little happy dance.

The furry little visitors really liked to visit our pantry and in fact that is where they met their demise. We have since found a way to discourage their cousins from visiting by putting almost everything in plastic containers. But, it turns out that they had the last laugh. You see, I had purchased a variety pack of chips. They were small bags of, oh, six or seven kinds of snack foods. Well, as it turns out, the little furry brown visitors liked to chew a hole in the bag to see what was on the inside. As far as I could tell, they didn’t eat any, they just chewed a hole.

Well, I found this out the hard way. I selected a bag, opened it up and popped a chip in my waiting mouth. I was surprised to discover that it was stale. Hmmm. I looked and sure enough there was a whole about the size of a nickel in the bag. Bummer. So, I tossed that one in the trash and started going through the rest of the bags. Believe it or not, most of the bags had smallish holes. Well, because that meant the furry little visitors had nibbled on the bag and because that meant the chips were stale, all of them went in the trash. Being a rather frugal person…it kinda made me mad.

There were a couple of bags that survived and when I was packing for a recent trip to North Carolina, I decided to take some snacks. There was one bag of Fritos that had escaped the onslaught of the furry visitors and I figured something salty might taste good later on so I tossed them into my snack bag. Sure enough, one night at the hotel, I decided the time for something salty had come. I opened the bag, and with great anticipation tossed a couple of Fritos in my mouth. Well, guess what? Yup…they were stale.

Wait a minute. We had checked the bags…the violated ones had been tossed and only the survivors were kept. This was one of the survivors. So, I began to check the bag again and here is what I found. At the bottom of the bag, near the seam, was the tiniest, the smallest hole you could imagine. It was so small, I had to look twice. But guess what? It was enough for the seal to be broken and when the seal is broken…things go stale pretty quickly. Sure, the fresh by date was months down the road, but that assumed a little furry visitor didn’t poke a hole in the bag.

And that made me think. How could such a small hole make such a big difference? Of course the answer is…the seal was broken…the integrity of the bag was violated. And that made me think about us, about me and my life and my decisions. It made me realize that you don’t have to do something incredibly stupid to have things go south in your life. We are not surprised by some of the things we do…you know…eat a dozen donuts and gain a pound or two. But too often we think the little things don’t matter…but they do…oh, they do.

And all that leads up to one of my favorite verses from the Old Testament. It is found in the Song of Solomon, chapter two, verse 15, “Catch the foxes for us—the little foxes that ruin the vineyards.” Great verse. The author is saying it often it isn’t the elephants walking through our lives that get us…it is the little things that can make life go stale. So we have to be on alert. Remember little things can have big consequences. If you need some help, you might want to call an exterminator…but not the kind you think. You might want to ask the Creator…He is ready to help. As always, big or little, He’s got this too. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, Military memories, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

No Excuse

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Don’t Wait

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Then Jesus told him, “Hurry and do what you’re going to do.” John 13:27

Who would have known? Sometimes a change of plans can be bigger than we think.  As you might remember through several Grits stories, my wife Judy and I have made a couple of trips down to Ft. Myers and Marathon Key, Florida.  We had a great time.  We landed in Ft. Myers, rented a Mustang convertible, and then drove to the Keys.  After several days, we drove back to Ft. Myers and stayed at a really nice place called, “Lover’s Key.”  It overlooked a beautiful large bay and was just a few blocks from the beach.  We ate some incredible seafood at a couple of incredible restaurants.  Well, the bottom line is we had such a good time we knew we had to visit again.

This year, early in the year, we laid plans to do just that…visit again. We originally set the time for around Labor Day weekend but later, because of the crowds, changed it to September 8-17. We booked a few days at Marathon Key, a few days at Lover’s Key, and the Mustang…well, that wasn’t going to happen.  Prices for rental cars, Mustang or not, had just about tripled.  Oh well, we could at least roll down the window.  We were excited…anticipating a repeat of last year.  And then…things went crazy with the airlines and the economy, and we knew we would have to cancel…and we did.

What we didn’t know, what we couldn’t know was a powerful hurricane named Ian was going to sweep into the Gulf of Mexico and literally destroy Ft. Myers.  Just eleven days after our planned dates, Ft. Myers as we knew it was gone.  The wonderful restaurants, the beautiful beaches at Ft. Myers and Sanibel Island—all gone.  The truth is it will eventually recover but it will be years and years and years and still yet there will be scars. And here’s what I now wonder.

What if, what if we had known that this beautiful place was going to be swept away would we have made a greater effort to go?  If we had just known that the time we had planned might be the last time…would we have made a greater effort?  Honesty, would money, would price have mattered?  And the answer is—no. I honestly believe we would have made every effort to visit.  Knowing it was going to be perhaps the last time would have changed our effort and the value of the visit.  But alas, it is too late.

Like I said, it will eventually open back for people like me to visit but the scars of that terrible day in September will linger long after the last road is rebuilt.  And that made me think.  What is there in our lives that we are putting off? What is it in our lives that we think, we figure, we can do later?  What thing are we waiting to say, waiting to do, thinking, believing there will be enough time?  And you know what I know—we don’t know if there will be time or not.  That means, perhaps, just perhaps, we need to say and do what needs to be said and done—now not later.  We shouldn’t and perhaps can’t wait because things can and do change and later might be too late.

I call it my favorite “taken out of context” scripture.  It involves Jesus and Judas.  Jesus knows what Judas is about to do so He tells him, “Hurry and do what you are going to do.”  That whatever is his betrayal of Jesus to the authorities.  Like I said it is terribly taken out of context but still there are those glaring words…hurry and do whatever you are going to do. Judy and I have been talking a lot about our next chapter in life.  We are both getting older, and we keep asking each other…and God, “What’s next?”  Well, we are not privy to all of that, but we do have today…we do have now.  The bottom line is we need to do what we can do now and say what we want to say now for tomorrow may not come.

Do quickly. Don’t wait. Don’t procrastinate. Don’t wish you would have…rather be glad that you did.  Remember, grateful that you did is always so much better than regret.  I’m hoping writing this will spark wisdom in my life. While we don’t know about tomorrow, fortunately we do know Someone who does.  To some He is just God but to some of us He is known as Dearest Daddy and we know and believe that He knows our tomorrows. We also know and believe that “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

Time to Stop

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” Micah 6:8

I’m not sure when it started but I do know when it ended.  It was probably just part of growing up boy and part of growing up country, but the bottom line is looking back I wish it wasn’t part of my boyhood.  Somewhere along my growing journey, probably when I was six or seven, I had access to a BB gun.  Then, just a little later I had my own.  I’m sure I would pluck cans and shoot at paper targets.  While my Daddy wasn’t a big hunter, we did shoot our share of squirrels and rabbits and that might have been where it started.

One day, and I don’t remember the day, I grew tired of plucking cans and decided to go “bird hunting.”  Our yard had three large oak trees and several large cedar trees so there were plenty of birds around.  It’s funny but I never thought about shooting something as innocent as a bird but one day I did. I don’t remember the first time, but I do remember the many times.  I would walk quietly around my yard, listening for the chirp of a bird, look through the leaves and branches and find my target.  I would aim, I would pull the trigger and too often the bird would fall.

I can still remember going over and picking up the now lifeless bird and walking across the road to dispose of the body by tossing it into the woods that stood there.  I want you to know as I write this it still causes me grief…not because I shot a bird but because I senselessly took the life of a living thing. Sometimes I would feel a bit of remorse, but it only lasted until the next time I felt the need to stalk and hunt again. And it wasn’t just birds.  We had a healthy herd of toads around our house too and occasionally they too would fall victim to my deadly aim.  But it wasn’t so much the toads…it was the birds.

This went on for quite a while.  The boredom, the stalking and the shooting followed by temporary remorse…until the next time.  Then it happened and I can remember it to this day. We had a cedar tree on one of the corners of our house.  It was large and went all the way to the ground.  As I approached the tree and peered into and under the tree there on the ground, happily hunting bugs, was a brown thrasher.  It was larger than a sparrow, so the thrill of the hunt was intensified. I saw him but he never saw me.  I took aim and in a moment of time he was on his side in the dirt. But this time…it was different.

The BB had not instantly killed him…rather he lay on the ground…mortally wounded and still breathing.  It was only for about thirty seconds, but it was almost like we locked eyes and I watched as he died and…that was it.  As far as I know I never shot another bird.  As I watched his life ebb away, I saw this little hobby as what it was…senseless fun at the expense of another’s life. Yes, I can still see that brown thrasher and it still causes me grief.

What was different that day was that I saw the grim reality of my actions…a reality so harsh it caused me to stop.  It.Caused.Me.To.Stop. The truth is in our everyday walk about lives we are confronted with difficult and often painful situations.  No, they don’t involve a bird, they don’t involve a BB gun, but they can be just as painful and cause just as much harm.  Sometimes it is a senseless action and sometimes it is a senseless word, but the result is a wounded heart followed by a lifelong scar. And unlike my hunt ending experience with a brown thrasher, for some reason these encounters often go on and on.

Like what happened when I stared death in the face…we need to see what our words and actions can do to the innocents, or maybe not so innocents, in our lives.  We need to pause and think before we speak or act…before we leave another scar.  I usually write from a Jesus perspective, and I guess I am now, but really, this goes beyond that to this—be kind and love one another.  Kindness and love are not always easy, but they are always right—and especially for us who follow Jesus.  Wherever and whenever…we, of all people, should set the example of the One we follow.  Tall order? Need help? Don’t fret…your Father is waiting to help. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne 

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

When Daddy is a Pastor

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

If anyone thinks he is religious without controlling his tongue, his religion is useless, and he deceives himself.” James 1:26

It wasn’t what it seemed.  The life of a pastor is, well, interesting.  In fact, the life of the pastor’s family is interesting.  You could say that we live in a glass house and that would be so true.  I remember when we lived in a parsonage (that’s a house provided by the church) and we had a wood burning stove.  It was difficult to control the heat so often we would leave the front door open to allow some cooler air in.  There was a sweet (and she really was) older lady who attended our church, and she was very concerned that we had our door open.  She would call saying, “Judy, do you know that your front door is open?”  Of course, we did, but she felt it was her civil and religious duty to make sure we were stewards of our electricity.

When we moved to Cobden, Illinois our girls were very young…five and four.  Back in those days during worship, the pastor had a big chair where he was to sit on the stage.  I don’t know if we did it that way to make the pastor seem important or so everyone could stare at him. It was just the way we did it.  Now here is what was interesting.  While I was sitting on the stage looking at everyone and everyone was looking at me, Judy was playing the piano.  Many pastors are blessed with musically talented wives, and I certainly was one of them.  Now don’t miss this.  I am on the stage and Judy was at the piano. Who do you suppose was watching the girls?  Well, that would be no one.  And you know, girls will be girls.

Like so many siblings, the girls loved to pick at one another.  It was always nothing serious…just enough to make mom and dad nervous.  Well, that Sunday was one of those days.  They were being little girls and poking and pinching each other. They were giggling enough to cause a bit of disturbance and to catch their mother’s eye.  Judy gave them “the look”.  Now every married man knows about “the look”.  Personally, I would rather stare down a cobra than face “the look”.  The problem was, while Judy was looking…they were not.  They were busy poking and pinching.  You might wonder what I was doing.  I was sitting on the stage trying to ignore the two little girls on the first or second row.  I was pretty good at it, too.  However, there was no ignoring the lady at the piano.

When they didn’t get the message, Judy made sure I did.  I don’t know if it was “the look” or smoke signals coming from behind the piano, but I got the message loud and clear.  Handle it.  As much as I didn’t like sitting on the stage on the throne, I preferred that to handling the girls in public.  I rose from the throne and walked straight to the girls.  I took them by the hand and as casually as possible led them out the side door of the sanctuary.  Now there is one thing that every pastor has to remember whether he is going to the restroom or taking his kids out to have a “come to Jesus meeting”.  Turn your microphone off. I didn’t.

As the door closes behind us, Becca, our oldest, and in her sweetest five-year-old voice says, “Daddy, please don’t hit us.”  Now, pause, because I know in this world the idea of hitting a child conjures up all kind of bad things.  If there was any hitting it was only going to be a gentle swat on the bottom.  Period.  I knew that and the girls knew that.  Thanks to my not turning my microphone off—everyone in the sanctuary knew it too.  You can probably imagine that sweet little voice coming over the speakers.  There were no tears between the three of us but there were plenty of tears in the sanctuary.  No, they weren’t grieving for those precious little girls—they were fine.  They were tears from laughing so hard.  We walked back into the sanctuary and every person was either rolling on the floor or trying to stay in their seat.  It was a Hallmark moment.

Yup…we live in a glass house for sure.  Even worse, I still had to stand up and preach later in the service. Amazingly, somehow, we made it through.  It is things like that which make our relationship with the families we serve so special.  I have deeply appreciated that through the years.   Anyone who knows the Taylor tribe knows that we are unapologetically human.  If you are looking for a perfect, plastic pastor family…well, you won’t find it with us. I’ve often said that people can handle Christians who make mistakes…they get that.  What they can’t handle is when we act like we are perfect and better than they are. Truth is we are neither.

James, the half-brother of Jesus, said if anyone thinks he is religious without controlling his tongue, his religion is useless, and he deceives himself. Well, spoken, James.  In fact, we could probably put several actions in place of controlling our tongue and come to the same conclusion.  I am always so grateful that God can handle our imperfections. He never regrets inviting us into His family, but He does desire for us to be honest and real…and so does everyone else.  Go ahead, take off the mask and just be you.  You can rest assured that His unconditional love will still be there…even when you leave your microphone on.  And, if you do, don’t worry, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, wisdom

A Tale of Two Candles

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

As for me, my life has already been poured out as an offering to God.” 2 Timothy 4:6a

They were only two candles…but they had a story to tell.  My job is talking.  Well, maybe, hopefully, it is more than that…it is teaching and sometimes preaching.  You remember preaching, don’t you?  That is that thing your parents did to you a lot when you were fifteen going on sixteen.  Well, when I am talking, or teaching, or preaching, it is important that I try to hold the people’s attention and get truth across in a way that is easy to understand.  Jesus did that and I am definitely partial to Him and how He did things.

Recently, when I was teaching, I was talking about the fact that each of us has one life, and it is important we figure out how we want to spend it. Paul, the one in the Bible, said it like this, “As for me, my life has already been poured out as an offering to God.” He was simply saying the one life he had was one he wanted to spend pleasing God.  At our church we like to say we want to spend our lives loving God and loving people.  Pretty simple, isn’t it?  To illustrate the point, I told a story about two candles.  The story is true, but I don’t have to worry about changing the names because the two candles didn’t have one.  It goes like this.

Several years ago, like five or six, my wife Judy and I bought a wall sconce.  It had a place for a candle to sit so we bought a beautiful candle which was yellow and a golden color.  The sides of the candle were carved with long, flowing ridges.  I hung the sconce and then put the candle in its new home.  And there it sat for the next five years…looking nice but never fulfilling its one purpose…to provide light.  Over the years it accumulated a thin layer of dust and the colors slowly faded.  Well, recently, we painted the room where the candle lived and when I took it and the sconce down…for the first time in a long time I took a close look and promptly tossed it in the trash.  It’s life was done and not once did it find its purpose.

Enter candle number two. It was a Saturday morning in late September and fall was in the air.  I was in my home office writing, and I finally opened the door to go downstairs.  Immediately I smelled the aroma of one of our favorite candles.  It is called Leaves and comes from Bath and Body.  Judy and I both love this candle.  I knew at once she had lit one down in the kitchen and the scent of fall had slowly made its way all the way upstairs to where I was standing.  In an instant I felt as if the seasons had changed and it was time to celebrate.

I went downstairs and sure enough there in the kitchen was the three-wick candle burning…allowing itself to be consumed.  And, in that process, two things happened.  First, the candle was fulfilling its destiny.  There would be no life spent on a shelf somewhere for this candle.  Soon, it would be gone…consumed by flame and purpose.  Second, the aroma that the candle gave as it was consumed left a longing and satisfying scent through the house.  For a while, even when the candle was no longer burning, the scent of its purpose filled the room and the house.  Soon, the glass container that held the candle will be empty and discarded but the candle won’t be there…it will have been consumed…with purpose.

I love this story because it challenges me to ask the question, “What candle do I want to be?  Do I want to be the one that stayed safely on the wall slowing dying a purposeless death or be the one that allowed itself to be consumed with purpose…the one that left a sweet aroma even after its own demise? Well, for me at this moment the answer is simple.  I want to live a life of purpose—loving God, and loving people.  I want my memory to bring a sweet aroma into the lives of those who knew me and a smile on the face of my Dearest Daddy.  I hope to hear, I want to hear, “Well done” from the One who made me.

Like Paul, the one in the Bible, I know I haven’t arrived…I still fumble the ball a lot, but that same Dearest Daddy waits to pick me up when I stumble.  I like that too, a lot.  And I’m learning that a lot of the people I bump into are graceful and understanding too.  So, if you’ve found that you are stuck somewhere on a wall, slowing fading and becoming dusty, why not come on down and fulfill your purpose…to live, to love God and people.  You will find it’s a great way to live. Oh, and don’t be afraid of failing.  We all have the confident assurance that no matter what, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, life, loving others, priorities, Scripture, thankful

“We Over Me”

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves.” Philippians 2:3

Ok…let’s be honest.  I am not a huge fan of sports.  It all started on the playground when I was always, and I do mean always, the last kid picked.  I discovered I had zero kickball skills.  Later, about 4th grade, my Momma (and I guess Daddy) signed me up for little league baseball.  It was there and then I discovered that the problem wasn’t just kickball, it was anything to doing with a ball…or anything else that might be called a sport.  Fortunately, for me my junior high and high schools were massive so unlike some schools where if you didn’t play sports everyone noticed…for me I just blended in with the masses. There was the yearbook thing but who reads that anyway?

When my kids came along God was merciful and gave me three daughters…and while one cheered and one played a little basketball that was the extent of our involvement with sports.   If they had been boys and more sports minded, well, I’m not sure what I could have taught them. I do enjoy watching sports…especially college football.  I am a fan of Notre Dame which is kinda odd given the fact that I am a Baptist preacher, and they are a Catholic School.  But I love the tradition and I love it when they win which this year, well, they are struggling a little.

I wrote all of that to say this—today I went to my third baseball game in like five days.  There are a couple of reasons—the first one  is a no brainer—my oldest grandson is a sports player and he loves baseball.  He was playing so I made it a point to go.  The second one is similar but different.  Our Middle School team was finishing up their season and today they played their first playoff game.  Nine of these young players are tied to our church and I went as their pastor and friend.  Today they won 16 to 1.  That probably tells you something.

These young men have been playing together for years.  Starting in their elementary years through now they grew together—as friends—as a team.  A chunk of the team are eighth graders and frankly—this is their year.  So here is the impossibly incredible part.  As of today, they are 24 and 0.  That’s right, they have won twenty-four straight games and all you have to do is watch them to see that is not an accident.  It is a product of relationship, skills, and team mentality.  Let me tell you a little more.

When I got to the game today, I noticed that on the back of their jerseys it said, WE ME.  So, imagine in large letters the word WE and beneath that is a line and then under the line is the word ME.  Well, not being the sharpest tack in the pack, I asked someone what it meant.  They said, now wait for it, it’s gonna be good, “You know we is more important than me.  We comes before me.”  Well, let me just tell you that was a wow moment for me.  I don’t know who came up with that but they should get some kind of award.  WE over ME.  Love it.

Like I said there is a reason why these guys are where they are, but a piece of the puzzle is that team comes before the individual…you come before me.  It isn’t about one person…it is about every person.  Someone said that there is no “I” in “team” and that is so true.  Now, imagine if the “we before me” thing was applied to our part of our world.  Marriage? Family? Church? Job? Club? If your mind is whirling with the possibilities—you got it.

Paul, the one in the Bible, had a version of this too.  He wrote in Philippians 2:3, “Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves.” Boom…there you go.  We over me just works every time.  Of course, we Jesus people could also, should also say, “HE over ME” with Jesus being the “He.”  Yup that works too.

Well, I am very proud of our Middle School baseball team.  Way to go guys.  They have a few more playoff games coming but hey, I’m thinking State.  Regardless…they are all winners, and I am thankful for them and the men who coach and lead them. I’m not sure if God picks sides in sports but He might and He would say, “Don’t worry…I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

One Thing I Know

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose for them.” Romans 8:28

Momma always knew best.  I was blessed to have a good Momma and Daddy.  They were everyday people but in so many ways they were anything but every day.  Willing to take on the task of raising eight children, they gave up a lot for us.  Daddy worked hard as a jet engine mechanic and Momma mostly stayed home and took care of us.  Momma was always there when we needed her.  I remember one time I was sick with a stomach virus.  It was the middle of the night and Momma sat down in an old wooden rocker we had and then invited me up into her lap.  There she gently held me.  It didn’t do much to ease my unhappy stomach, but it sure made my heart feel better.

Momma had her own brand of medicine.  As best as I can remember, Momma was a big believer in “family herd immunity.”  In case you are not familiar with that, it is where a certain illness is almost intentionally shared with members of the family, especially siblings. I guess Momma thought it was best to get it all over with at one time.  And it seemed to work.  I remember one of my sisters came down with the measles.  Rather than isolate her from my sister and I, Momma just put us all together in the double bed in the spare bedroom and waited.  Sure enough, we all promptly got the measles and we also all got well about the same time.  I’m not sure modern medicine would approve, but that’s ok.  It worked for us, and Momma was always there to help us get better.

However, Momma didn’t always use herd immunity.  When I was about nine, there was a pretty serious flu outbreak in our north Florida city.  I really don’t remember too much about it.  I also don’t remember if I became a patient or not.  But there is one thing I do remember—I knew what we had in our family wasn’t good and I felt I needed to do something—so I did.  I found a piece of paper and a pencil, and I made a sign warning other people to stay away.  The sign said something like this, “Warning.  We have the FLEW.  Don’t come in.” Even if my spelling wasn’t the best, it still got the message out.

When I was in the second grade, Momma’s brand of herd immunity took on a different look.  My sister Kathy was not feeling well so Momma took her to the doctor, and I tagged along.  Dr. Smothers was our ears, nose, and throat doctor.  He checked my sister out and it was determined that she had tonsillitis.  That was something a lot of kids back then seemed to get. Well, Dr. Smothers suggested to Momma that perhaps it was time for my sister to get her tonsils out.  Again, back then that was the standard treatment.  So, Momma agreed and then said to Dr. Smothers, “Why don’t we take Dewayne’s out too?”  Hmmmm.  Herd immunity strikes again. So, the doctor says, “Well, Dewayne, what do you say?  Would you like to get your tonsils out too?”  Now I had no clue what in the world he was talking about.  But I think he said something about all the ice cream you wanted, and I was in.  A few days later I found myself in the hospital with my sister and the world’s worst sore throat.  I’m still not sure if that ice cream was worth it!

I’m sure there are many more stories about Momma’s medical skills and judgement, but they have slipped from my memories.  But let me tell you one thing that hasn’t slipped away, that is the concrete knowledge that my Momma loved me.  Whether it was the measles, the flu, or getting rid of some pesky tonsils, Momma always did what she thought was best for us.  Some people probably wouldn’t agree with her medical practices, but I know everything she did was for our good.  For my good.

And do you know what?  I think that is just another way my Momma was like God.  You see, God is constantly working in my life for my good and His glory.  I mean He is working out His purposes but at the center, at the core of it all is—my good.  The Bible verse that is so poplar is so true.  It goes like this, “all things work together for good, for those who love God, the ones who are called according to His purpose.”  Like I have said so many times that doesn’t mean that everything is good, but that God can bring good from all things.  I know Momma loved me a lot but even her love must pale to the love that God has for me—for us.

Now I am certain if you asked me in the middle of encounter with measles, that truth might have been a little clouded.  If you asked me after the surgery to remove my tonsils, well, I probably would have doubted it.  But in the long run, looking back—well, my Momma loved me and did her best to show that love.  So, today if you bump into a hot mess—today if things go south and it is hard…maybe real hard—just remember how much God loves you.  You can take it to the bank—it is a sure bet.  When life leaves you hurting worse than a bad stomachache, you just crawl up in His lap and let His strong arms ease the pain away.  Then, just nod off and take a nap.  You can safely do that because, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne