Category: Grace

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

Tomorrow

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” 2 Corinthians 4:16-17

It seemed like it would never get better.  I must admit, there were times in 2020 and last year when I wondered would this mess ever get better.  I began to wonder, “What if this really was the new normal?” What if all the restrictions and changes were things we were going to have to get used to?  What if when someone said, “Just get over it,” that was the reality.  Well, at this juncture it seems that is not the case. I just heard on the national news from a national leader the words, “For most Americans it is time to put the mask away.”  There is indeed light at the end of the tunnel, and it is not a train about to run over us.

I’ve been reading a lot (well, at least a lot for me) about rethinking the way we think.  Both scripture and science prove that our brain, (not to mention our lives) respond to our thought process.  It is true. Our lives move in the direction of our strongest thoughts.  Or, as another person said, “where you stare you steer.”  It is possible and probably probable that we can and should take some advice from Annie.  Remember her?

Annie.  Her life was pretty hard…pretty dark.  A perky young redhead with an optimistic attitude in a pessimistic world.  Others mocked her and those charged to care for her emotionally abused her.  So, what was Annie’s response?  Well, it goes something like this.

“The sun will come out tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there’ll be sun! Just thinking about tomorrow clears away the cobwebs, and the sorrow, till there’s none! When I’m stuck in a day that’s gray, and lonely, I just stick out my chin and grin, and say, “Oh the sun will come out tomorrow. So ya gotta hang on till tomorrow…come what may. Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I love ya tomorrow! You’re always a day away.”

Guess what?  The sun did come out.  She is rescued by Daddy Warbucks and her life is changed forever.  Are there still problems?  Yup.  Are there still bad guys lurking to hurt her–steal her away? Yup.  Does the story have a great ending?  Yup and three big lessons emerge.  One, the sun will come out.  Two.  Don’t mess with Daddy Warbucks. Three, don’t underestimate a nine-year-old redhead.

Sometimes it seems we are stuck in a day that’s gray, and lonely.  Doesn’t it sometimes seem like the last couple of years has been one too long gray and cloudy day? Doesn’t it seem like this is the new forever normal?  Well, it is not.  The sun is going to come out and in many ways it already has.

I still try and walk occasionally and these days, usually on the treadmill.  I climb on and at 3.5 mph work hard to go nowhere.  But sometimes, the temps are warm, and the sun is out and I walk outside and it is like a cool drink of water in a hot dry desert.  I mean I just explode in gratitude for a God who loved me enough to let the sun come out.

I read on the internet that the phrase, “And it came to pass…” appears 396 times in the Bible.  Each time it is saying that the current situation didn’t come to stay…it came to pass. No matter what…most likely, this isn’t the new normal…it is a set, a series of temporary circumstance. And if it is a new normal, well, His grace is sufficient. When it is all said and done, 2019 is in the past but that may not be such a bad thing.

In 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 Paul writes, “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” Right on Paul.  Right on.

So, remember this.  One, the sun will come out–guaranteed.  It may be here, or it may be there but the future for a child of God is filled with “Son-shine.”  Second, remember who our Father is.  He isn’t just rich like Daddy Warbucks–He owns it all and is in total control.  And no one…and I mean no one…messes with our Father.  Last, you may not be a perky young redhead like Annie, but don’t underestimate yourself.  You dear friend, if you have trusted Christ, are a prince or princess of the King.  Your home is heaven, and your Heavenly Father calls you His. Can someone say, “Son-shine?” The forecast says clouds but I’m feeling pretty “Son-ny.”  After all, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

Me and Major Hobbs

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Come to Me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

I knew the outcome…I thought.  The list of the things I enjoyed while serving in the Air Force is long and varied.  Somehow, which I’m sure God arranged, I was assigned to work in the command section at all my duty assignments.  It all started when a guy named Master Sergeant Johnson picked me up at the small airport in Minot, North Dakota and casually said, “I think I’m going to let you work for me.”  He worked in the command section of the Combat Support Group and so it began.  Each new duty assignment found me working for the commanders and first sergeants of each unit.  It was awesome. So many of those leaders left their fingerprints on my life and help mold me in the person I am today.

1973 found me assigned to the command section of one of aircraft maintenance squadrons at Moody Air Force Base. My immediate supervisor, the first sergeant and even the commander became friends of sorts—within the parameters of military protocol.  All that leads to the point of this story.  After joining the service, I learned to play racquetball and loved it.  I suppose I was even pretty good at it.  Well, my commander, Major Hobbs, also played.  Normally, our path probably wouldn’t have crossed at the gym, but this young buck airman kept egging this 20 year my senior, slightly overweight, Major… to play him in racquetball.  I assured him that I could take him and then one day, he said, “Ok.”

He told me to get a court time and I did.  Now everything assured me that this was going to be a no match…and it was…but not like I thought.  On the appointed day and at the appointed time we met to do battle.  I was sure I was going to show my commander what a real racquetball player looked like.  I served first and I may have made a couple of points.  Then, it was his turn, and that is when I began to learn that the race doesn’t always go the swiftest…or the youngest.  Major Hobbs would serve and then move to the center of the court and proceeded to beat me like an unwanted tom cat.  He virtually didn’t move because he didn’t need to.  He totally mastered the ball with his racket and put the ball, almost every time, wherever I wasn’t

Well, a set (win) in racquetball, is three games…if needed.  We didn’t need them.  He finished me off in two games.  One player left the court drenched in sweat and exhausted and one left the court without a drop.  One player left the court dragging and exhausted while the other left with a strange bounce in their step.  You can probably guess which was which.  The young buck airman was taught a good lesson that day and it is one that I still remember today. It is not always about how light on your feet and how fast you can move.  Sometimes it is about strategy…how you play the game.

And so, it is with life. A wise man, woman or child will know that you need to have a plan, a strategy if you will, if you are going to win the game of life.  And the crazy part is the best strategy doesn’t depend on talent, wealth, or opportunity.  It leans, it is driven by – a close relationship with Creator God. Now don’t miss that.  Religion is nice, church is a great idea, but neither are the answer—a personal relationship with God through faith in His Son and the wisdom and guidance of the Holy Spirit is. It is a power team of three and yet One.  Amazing. With Him calling the shots, well, life just goes better…a lot better. Jesus invites us to come and do life with Him…and that is an invitation we need to accept.

That day, we left the court differently but there was one thing we shared…a smile.  The older, wiser Major smiled because he had helped a prideful, young airman learn a lesson in humility.  A lesson, honestly, he needed. And the airman, well, he smiled too because someone wiser than him took the time to teach.  God really does want to help us do life and honestly, we need Him. Don’t be pushed away by all the hype in religion.  Go ahead and schedule some court time with God and you just might discover how much He loves you and wants to help.  You might discover that no matter what…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

#friends

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Two are better than one because they have a good reward for their efforts. For if either falls, his companion can lift him up; but pity the one who falls without another to lift him up.” Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

There were times when having a sister was not a bad thing. So, I am the baby of eight kids.  Daddy and Momma, probably unintentionally, grouped the kids.  There were three older boys, then a girl and a boy, and finally two more girls and me—the object of my parent’s delight—the perfect child. Ok, that is not even close to true but after all, it is my story. Growing up there was not a brother too close to my age, so I was kinda a solo act and too often the object of my sister’s merciless teasing and testing. More often than not…we were at odds.  And, of course, they would run to Momma and tell her how bad I was.  But she knew better…oh yes, she knew better.

Now with all that said, there were times when having a sister was not a bad thing.  When they became teenagers a few years before me, sometimes I got to tag along on dates. Since their boyfriends had their driver’s license, it meant…freedom!   Yup, even sisters have advantages. Another of those advantages involved manual labor. You see when I was a kid, one of my responsibilities was to mow the yard.  While our yard was good sized, we also had a couple of acres that was just a big open field.  Every once in a while, that field had to be mowed.  Riding mower?  You’ve got to be kidding.

At one time or another, I do remember we had two push mowers.  They were nothing special—in fact they were anything but.  They were usually lawnmower corpuses that my Daddy had resurrected using spare parts.  I particularly remember one that didn’t have an off position on the throttle.  The only way to turn it off was to pull off the plug wire.  It was this mower that taught me the value of doing something carefully because if you didn’t remove the wire very carefully…well, let’s just say it was a shocking experience!

Well, I’m not whining (no, really) but that was a lot of weeds to mow.  So, every once in a while, I would talk one of my sisters into helping and sometimes they would even volunteer.  I mean you know how girls…even sisters…are about their figures and what I saw as work they saw as a weight loss plan.  Anyway, I would lead with mower number 1 and my sister would follow with mower number 2.  It sure helped–both physically and psychologically.  Just knowing I wasn’t all alone was really encouraging.  Well, I remember the time I was mowing my little heart out thinking my sister was right behind me with mower number 2.  Around and around, I went…never looking back…believing that she was still there.

Well, the bottom line is I went and went till I happened to look back only to realize that she had quit, and I was all alone.  Instantly the task seemed impossible and the field bigger than ever and I wanted to quit too.  The difference:  I was alone.  At that moment I realized that even though I didn’t always like my sister…I needed her. We may have fussed and fought but when it came to mowing, she was my helper–my partner.

Well, the point is this:  we really do need each other…especially in our life journeys, our spiritual journeys, our day-to-day bump into stuff journeys.  Having someone we can talk with, someone we can share our burdens with, someone who will pray with us and for us, someone who is slow to judge and quick to love is just invaluable.  Someone said, “No man is an island” and that is just the truth. I’m learning that you don’t have to always agree with someone to love that someone…or even like that someone.

Even as a person who values alone time—I know there is value in walking side by side. In the Old Testament part of the Bible, Ecclesiastes 4:9–10, one of the smartest guys ever to live said, “Two are better than one because they have a good reward for their efforts. For if either falls, his companion can lift him up; but pity the one who falls without another to lift him up.” Well, let me just tell you, I know that is true when you are nine or ten and mowing two acres and it is true today and every day.  There is no better best friend than the One who wants to be your Dearest Daddy.  He will never leave you alone…never quit.  You can trust that “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, Military memories, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials

It’s A New…

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Yet true godliness with contentment is itself great wealth. 7 After all, we brought nothing with us when we came into the world, and we can’t take anything with us when we leave it.” 1 Timothy 6:6-7

It was a dumb decision.  When it comes to cars…I just seem to be inherently dumb.  Naw…that’s probably too strong.  I think I am just unwise.  My first new car was a 1973 Volkswagen Super Beetle. I was so proud of that car. It was bright orange with a black racing stripe, and I had even jazzed it up some.  I added exhaust headers, dual point ignition, a two-barrel carburetor, and an under-dash AM-FM radio, cassette player.  Shoot that thing…it was so cool.  And then…I got bored.  Here’s a warning.  When you get bored with your car, do not under any circumstances go to a car lot.  Well, I did and even when the credit union said no, the nice man at the dealership said yes.  My payments went from $83.00 per month to $135.00 per month which doesn’t sound bad till you realize I was in the Air Force and only making about $400 a month.

I think that whole deal turned out pretty good.  When I met my wife Judy, I think she was impressed with my 5-speed Toyota Corona SE and later when we got orders for Germany, we were able to sell it and just about break even.  I wish I could tell you I learned my lesson but sometimes, and especially when it comes to cars, I am just a slow learner.  And when the car bug bites—Katie bar the door.  The year was 2001.  We were just beginning our ministry at a new church and getting settled into a new house and a new town.  On September 11th of that year the terrorists knocked down the twin towers in New York and our country was stunned.  To boost the economy President Bush encouraged the carmakers to get America back on the road again.  He also encouraged people to go out and buy a new car.  So, I did. Twice.

I asked Judy what she thought about buying a car and not surprisingly she was totally against it.  However, we had money in the bank from selling our previous home, and so I went to the dealership and came home with a new car.  It was brand-new Pontiac Grand Am and I got it with 2% financing.  “Yay” I said…for a while.  After owning the car for about six months or so, I noticed there was whine when the air conditioning was on.  They checked it out and said it was normal.  Well, I knew it wasn’t normal, so I went back…several times.  Finally, the guy who sold me the car in the first place told me to come and he would “work something out.”  This isn’t going to end well, is it?

I went in and I just assumed he was going to give me full credit for the car since in my eyes it was “defective.”  Well, he didn’t and by this time I was up to my eyeballs with “I.Want.It-itis.”  Yup, I traded my new car in, took a big loss, and bought another new car…one that was a little bigger and, of course, a little more expensive.  It was a bad deal from start to finish.  I felt so bad about it, and the fact I was in debt, that I depleted a chunk of our savings to go ahead and pay it off.  I thought it would make me feel better.  It didn’t.  I told you I was a slow learner.

The really, sad, sad part of this story is that about a year later I wrecked the car and because of depreciation I could only replace it with an older used car.  But…there is light at the end of this tunnel.  You see, that was almost twenty years ago and while I have bought and sold cars several times…I never again made the mistake of buying a new car.  I discovered that you could buy a four- or five-year-old car for about half the price of a new one.  How about that?  I also relearned the important principle of BBQ grills. A long time ago, I heard a guy teaching and he said, “Don’t look for a new BBQ grill unless you are ready to buy a new grill.”  That’s good advice, and it applies to many areas of life.

There’s a lot to be said for contentment. The Bible says, “True godliness with contentment is itself great wealth. After all, we brought nothing with us when we came into the world, and we can’t take anything with us when we leave it.”  I was speaking at my church recently and reached this conclusion.  I said, “We need to learn two things.  First, Jesus is enough. Second, the world is never enough.”  That alone is worth your time in reading this story.

The truth is the things that really bring satisfaction can’t be bought in a store…they are free.  And at the top of that list is a relationship with Creator God.  That will cost you nothing because Jesus paid that price a long time ago.  If you seek satisfaction anywhere else, it will cost you and it just won’t satisfy.  Someone said there is a God shaped hole in the life of every man, woman, and child.  We can try and stuff other things in that hole, but it will always fall short.

So, I hope my car misadventures will help you learn and avoid the hard way.  And I hope you will give God a try.  Remember, don’t confuse church and religion with a relationship with God.  One of the things that makes my life worth living is that He is my Dearest Father, and He loves me 100%—100% of the time.  He will never leave me…even when I make those less than wise decisions.  And when I fail and fall…He is always there with the assurance that “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

They Drove Us Batty

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

He will again have compassion on us; He will vanquish our iniquities. You will cast all our sins into the depths of the sea.” Micah 7:19

It was years ago but trust me…it is still fresh in my memory. We had made one of our journeys to the land of grits and collards to see family.  We enjoyed some good southern cooking, some great times of fellowship and revisited several places from Judy’s childhood and our days together before God and the Air Force sent us on the next chapter of great adventures.  There’s no place like home, Dorothy said it and I agree.

We decided to do something different so rather than stay with the relatives, we rented a nice Victorian home in Valdosta at a very reasonable rate.  It was wonderfully decorated, and we had the whole house to ourselves.  The location was great, the hot tub in the backyard was great, everything was just great…and then I looked in the sink. Something was moving.

After we arrived, we were still checking out the place and my wife Judy and I went into the kitchen and happened to look in the sink and there were some rotten banana peels lying there.  Well, that wasn’t too cool.  Who would leave rotten banana peels in the kitchen sink of a nice rental house anyway?  The answer—no one.  You see, about that time one of the banana peels moved!  Yikes—they weren’t banana peels after all—they were—BATS—five of them.

Well, I mustered my courage and threw a towel over them, scooped them up and tossed them out the door.  There—gross but end of the story—nothing could be worse than that—right?  Wrong.  That evening we were watching some TV and I stepped out of the room to hear Judy holler “Dewayne, here’s another one!”  Sure enough, one was walking across the floor, so out he went.  Then I looked and one was hanging on the fireplace screen—out he went too.  Well, surely it can’t….don’t bet on it. We went to bed that night and I dozed off pretty quickly…Judy didn’t.  Soon, I heard, “Dewayne, there’s one flying around in the room!”  Well, she was wrong…there wasn’t one–there were two.  The batman (that’s me) knocked ‘em down and hauled them out and called the owner.

The next day a bat removal guy came. He told us he had been there the previous Saturday and had patched a couple of entrances he assumed the bats were using. I guess he missed one…or two.  Well, he searched the house and came up with seven more bats. Can you believe this?  He patched and sealed some more entrances and we thought that was the end of problem—finally!  Well, that is we thought.  Long story short—by the end of the week we had removed 25 bats from the house. He caught and released them somewhere.  It turns out they were endangered…more so than they knew.

This is one reason I said, “There’s no place like home.”  The only bat at 217 W. Poplar is a ball bat! So, by now you are wondering, “Why didn’t you guys leave?”  Well, the landlord did offer us a partial refund and there was a bed and breakfast down the road, but the bottom line was twofold.  First, we really, really liked having the whole house to ourselves and in such a good location.  Second, I didn’t know on day one that there were 25 bats in the house—I always thought the last one was the last one. I was wrong.

I wonder if my reluctance to leave explains why some people continue in a bad habit or a sin even though everything in the world is telling them to get out. It becomes obvious that we like the habit or the sin.  Sin can be pleasurable but mark it down—it not only offends God, but it is also expensive (on a couple of different levels) and it can wreak havoc in your life (or your vacation). Secondly, sin will take you further than you want to go and make you stay longer than you want to stay.  I kept thinking the last bat was the last bat but there was always one more.  Finally, the week was gone and if nothing else I became an expert at bat removal.

So, if you need a house to stay at in Valdosta and you don’t mind bats let me know.  I can promise you it will be an interesting visit to say the least. Personally, it just about drove me batty…pun definitely intended.  Oh, and if you need someone to help you remove some of the “bats” from your life, I know just the One.  He is my Dearest Daddy, and He would love to help you out.  He will cast those pesky “sin bats” to the bottom of the sea. You can trust Him…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, Integrity, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Patrol Boy

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance or his stature because I have rejected him. Humans do not see what the Lord sees, for humans see what is visible, but the Lord sees the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7

It was a dream come true.  Growing up when I did was a blast.  I was born in 1954 (and yes, that was a long time ago) and things were just different.  Life was slower, people mattered more, things mattered less, and respect was a big deal.  I was raised to call people older than me, sir and ma’am.  It’s kinda humorous, but now I am the senior adult and I still call everybody and their brother, “sir.”  It was just ingrained in me from my earliest memories.

Back in those days, when you were in the sixth grade you were the king of the mountain.  You see in Florida in the early sixties elementary school went from first thru sixth grade.  There was no kindergarten.  Part of being the king of the mountain was the prospect of being selected to be a “patrol boy.”  Now, the first thing you need to know is the term “patrol boy” was a term of respect.  Today I think they still have crossing guards but back then…patrol boys were the state police of the day.  They had a belt that went around their waist and over their shoulder and of course, the flag.  It was a two-piece design that was about five foot long when put together.  Oh, I almost forgot.  They had a safety helmet too.  They definitely looked the part.

At the end of each school day, these brave traffic warriors would be dismissed from class a little early to go and man their assigned post. They would put on their belt and helmet, grab their flag, and head out for duty.  Now this was the real deal.  A teacher or aide didn’t accompany them.  The lives of their peers were in their hands—and they were granted authority to stop traffic.  Again, it was an honor and a dream to get that belt, helmet, and flag.  The selection process was done at the end of the school year of our fifth grade.  I’m not sure what the criteria was, but I do know not everyone got selected.

Ok, let’s be honest.  I wanted…I really wanted to be a patrol boy.  It was like I was born for it.  It was my destiny.  I could tell you that I wanted to help save lives.  I could tell you that the safety of every kid who crossed at my post was what drove me but that wouldn’t be true.  No, I’m afraid it wasn’t quite that noble.  I’m afraid it had nothing to do with safety…it had to do with…the belt, the helmet, and the flag.  Now don’t laugh, it was a big deal. The uniform has led a lot of guys to sign up for the Marines.  I was no different.  I wanted people to look at me and say, “There goes a patrol boy.  Leader of peers and a hero to boot.”

Well, it happened.  I was selected and honestly, it was just about everything I thought it was going to be—at least through my eyes.  No one ever called me a hero, nor did I outright save anyone’s life, but there was something about the way it made me…feel. Looking back, I think there is a word for it…pride.  You know there is a good pride…the kind that lets you know you did your best.  There is also the kind that says, “I’’m a patrol boy and you’re not.”  It’s closely related to the kind that says, “I have power and you don’t. You have to listen to me…obey me.”  Bummer.

As far as I know, at least from the outside, I did a pretty good job.  I received and proudly wore my little pin, which I got to keep at the end of the year that marked my service.  No one got ran over on my watch and I think I only got in trouble once.  That happened when one of my fellow patrol boys, a friend no less, made me mad and I whacked him with my flag.  It certainly wasn’t very hero like and trust me it wasn’t as pretty.  Something on the inside—that should have stayed on the inside—oozed out. I realize now that all of us have a tendency to play that game—pretty good on the outside and pretty dingy on the inside.  Someone once said you can fool some of the people some of the time, but you can’t fool all the people all of the time.

There should be another saying that says, “You can’t fool God any of the time.”  You see, God’s got this “vision thing” that allows Him to see right past the skin and right into our heart.  He sees our real thoughts, our real motives, our real selves.  It’s been kind of a “go to” verse for me recently but here’s what it says, “The Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at Eliab’s appearance or stature because I have rejected him. Humans do not see what the Lord sees, for humans see what is visible, but the Lord sees the heart.” Wow…that is one scary thought.  God sees what matters.  We need to remember that.

Well, I enjoyed my year as a patrol boy.  The next year I went to junior high and went from the top of the heap to the bottom.  In fact, now that I think about there were a couple of guys who did their best to make junior high hard for me.  Today we call it bullying.  I wonder if it was payback for some misused authority.  Hmmmm.  What goes around…comes around.  Anyway, I’m glad I don’t have just a “patrol boy” watching over me.  Nope, I have the King of Kings and that’s pretty awesome!  I don’t have a thing to worry about because “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Les Was More *

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

When He went ashore, He saw a great crowd, and He had      compassion on them.” Mark 6:34a

*Photo credit: used by permission Keith Cotton, keithcotton.com

Simply put…Les was more.  I had been the pastor of a church in the village of Cobden located in Southern Illinois.  When I went there in 1986, I didn’t know two things.  First, this would be my family’s home for the next fourteen years.  During that time our lives were bonded with the people of the church and the community in a way that I’m not sure I can describe.  Literally, we became family.  The memories and relationships of those days remain firmly stamped in our minds and hearts.  And, I guess, that is the second thing I didn’t know. So many of the people…young, old, rich and poor, single and married, in the church and out…were so very special.  And that leads us to Les.

Cobden had several iconic residents that lived in a local shelter care home.  Each one was special and each one was different.  But at the top of the heap was Les.  I officially met one day when he was walking by our church carrying his sickle.  He was old for his age and had more wrinkles than he should. Bent over, he would peer though his squinting eyes and occasionally have a conversation with himself…or maybe God.  Anyway, that day, I opened the office door and told Les hello and invited him to come to church.  He acknowledged me and asked if I happened to have any coffee.  Well, I did and invited him in to have a cup.  And that was the beginning.

From that day forward, almost every day, Les would show up at the office and ask, “You wouldn’t happen to have a cup of old, cold coffee, would you.”  I can still hear him today.  And usually, I could accommodate him.  It might be cold and sometimes it was old but to Les it didn’t matter one bit.  It wasn’t long before Les started coming to church.  Now you would be wrong to assume that Les was a slow thinker.  He was anything but that. No, he was just Les and I loved the way our people grew to love him…sickle and all.

One day, at the office, getting his cup of “old, cold, coffee,” he said to me, “I want to be baptized.”  Well, that surprised even me.  So, I gave him my full attention and explained that to be baptized you needed to believe that Jesus had died for your sins and believe that He was the Son of God. And that wasn’t all. I explained a person needed to be willing to follow Jesus…kinda making Him the new “boss” of their lives.  Well, without a moment’s hesitation, Les assured me he understood all of that.  So right there, right then, Les became a Jesus follower.

He then circled back to what had started the conversation…he wanted to be baptized.  I asked Les if he understood that to be baptized, he would have to go under the water…all the way under the water. I really wasn’t surprised when he said he did. Now Les was one of those fellows that with age and life had become pretty bent over.  To look out, Les had to look up.  So, I knew this baptism thing might be a bit of a challenge, but I also knew this was going to be special and it was.  So, in a couple of weeks, on a Sunday morning, I stood in the baptistry and took Les’ hand as he came down into the water.  I can’t remember but I may have called in reinforcements.  But, regardless, I smiled as he gently slipped beneath the waters and came up again.  And the church…well…it exploded in applause.

Years later, in fact nine years after I had left our friends and family in Cobden, I received a call from the local funeral home there letting me know Les had died.  They wanted to know if I would be willing to come back and do the funeral.  I assured them it would be an honor.  On that day we said goodbye to Les but really it was more of a “see you later.”  You see, Les, because of his commitment to follow Jesus had left the shelter care home in Cobden for a new home in heaven.  I also knew that he was no longer bent over by age and life…that he could now look out and not have to look up.  Now when he looked up it was to see the face of the Man who loved him and died for him.

As we journey through life, we need to realize that all around us are people like Les. Oh, not necessarily because they might live in shelter care, but more because they are just…special.  You see, God’s world is filled with special people…all we must do is learn to see them.  They might be a guy at the grocery store or the lady who brings the mail.  They might be our doctor or the guy on back of the truck that gets our trash.  Why not determine, starting today, to see people as God sees people?  Jesus did.  When He looked at people, and He did that a lot, He saw them as special and had compassion on them…loved them.  We all might need a little help in this department, but the good news is, our Dearest Father is just waiting to help.  Just ask…because you know, “He’s got this.”

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, wisdom

Shiny Keys

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

“The master was full of praise. ‘Well done, my good and faithful servant.” Matthew 25:21a

When I entered the room, I saw it for the first time. It’s funny how there are some things right in front of your eyes and you never, ever see them.  That happened today.  I was up early, and it was Thursday.  Thursday is my self-imposed deadline to make sure I am well on my way to have the next week’s Grits well underway.  My wife Judy and I have learned that it is better to get a head start on Grits and before that can happen, I must write them.  So, Thursday morning, found me at the computer and mashing keys.  And then it happened.

I needed to leave my home office for a minute and when I came back into the office, I noticed something.  Let me set up the scene.  In one corner of my desk, I have a desk lamp.  In the middle of the desk, I have my iMac.  The keyboard and trackpad sit right in front of it. So, as I came back into the office, the light was reflecting onto my keyboard and that’s when I saw it.  I noticed that several, more than a few actually, keys were shiny, and others were dull with their factory matte finish.  I backed up a step or two and replayed the scene.  Sure enough, some were shiny, and some were flat. How interesting.

Well, a closer look, a closer investigation revealed what I thought would be the case.  The shiny keys were those that I used the most. You know, the letters that you would find over and over again in any writing.  Some other keys were somewhere in the middle. While the matte finish wasn’t worn totally off, they weren’t members of the shiny club either.  And finally, other keys, like the “x” and “z,” keys looked practically brand new…because they were. And that made me think.

What if we could magically transform ourselves to the keys on the keyboard? I know, I know about now you’re wondering what I had to drink this morning! Sure it was coffee? Well, it was.  But if we could, would we be one of the well-worn keys that made a bigger impact in the story.  Would our lives impact the world around us in a positive and productive way? Whether it is the smaller circle of our families or the bigger circle of our community, would our impact be missed if we weren’t there?  My wife plays the piano and recently she was playing at our senior adult center.  One black key, a D#, was totally gone and she was saying how difficult it was to play without it.  Is that our impact?

I am sure of one thing.  When my Dearest Daddy finally decides it is time to disconnect my keyboard, I want to know that I have made a difference.  I want to finish like a shiny key—one that is worn smooth with life.  I don’t want to go out barely used and barely missed.  How about you?  Of course, that comes with a risk.  The keys are shiny because my fat, little fingers bang on them all the time.  And if the keys of your life’s keyboard are going to be shiny, it can only come with a lot of banging around.  But trust me…it is worth it.

The best keys, the shiniest keys, belong to those who have learned the grandest purpose in life…love God and love people.  If you get that one right, well, trust me you will have an impactful life.  And it goes further.  When we choose to love God like He says, we will have an impactful eternity.  I’m one of those folks that believes the end here is just a beginning there.  I believe there is more…a lot more…after the last heartbeat. And as a Jesus guy, I want to be sure that He is pleased with my keys. In a story Jesus told in the New Testament part of the Bible, the master of a servant was full of praise and says, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” In other words, “Good job.”

I want to make it to heaven with a life of shiny keys…well worn, well used for others and Him. Does that sound noble? Well, I don’t know about that.  I think rather that is the least we can do for a Heavenly Father that loves us so much and is always there for us.  To be a shiny key, we need a lot of help and I know, and you know…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Baseball, Miracles, and Concubines

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Trials

Patience 101 – Repeating the Class

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Finishing is better than starting. Patience is better than pride.” Ecclesiastes 7:8

And I thought I was just going out to eat! Just a couple of weeks ago, a couple of good friends invited my wife Judy and I to go out and eat.  It sounded like a special gig.  A restaurant located in a small town, oh, about 15 miles from our small town, had invited a renowned chef to come in and cook that evening.  My friend had received an invitation right from the owner’s lips to come and experience it and he invited us.  Now I am not much of a gourmet nor is gourmet food my deal.  To ring my bell, all you need to do is serve up some meat and mashed potatoes and another starch or two and I’m in.  Even so, it was chance to spend some time with these good friends…so we made a date.

They said they would make some reservations which for Southern Illinois is kinda unusual.  All we SI people do is show up and eat.  But I can be partial to reservations…especially if it keeps me from waiting.  So, with the idea this was a special thing for a small group of special people and with the safeguard of reservations, I was looking forward to our Friday night gig.  Oh, and a bonus was the fact this was Friday night of Valentine’s weekend and Judy said this could count as “date night.”  Sweet.  Can’t fail. In the bag. And then…the school bell rang.

As we drove from our small town to the other small town, the car was filled with chatty talk. Nice and easy…just the way I like it.  As we approached the restaurant, I noticed there were quite a few cars but that wasn’t totally unusual.  It was when we got to the door that usual went out the window. The small foyer, the area around the check-in stand and the restaurant was packed to the gills.  At that brief moment, my countenance may have sagged just a little. But since we had reservations…it was no deal.  And then the school bell rang.

One of my friends checked us in and came back with the news—forty-five minutes to an hour.  Wait. What?  I said, “But don’t we have reservations?”  Well, no.  It turns out only parties of eight can get those cherished promises of a quicker sit-down.  So, that is how God enrolled me, once again, into the school of patience.  So, there I sat in the small foyer with what seemed like a thousand other people. Some were there to enjoy the gourmet chef, and some were there for a fish dinner.  It didn’t matter. I was in the school of patience. My Dearest Daddy knew I had some learning to do in the patience department and He had enrolled me.

Well, our time in class turned into about two and half hours and when we finally ate almost all of the gourmet food was gone and I had a hamburger…which by the way was just fine with me. At the end of the evening, an unseen hand handed me my test.  There at the top of the page was a well-earned, unqualified, no doubt about it—F.  Yup I had failed again.  And the bad news is, this is required curriculum…which meant there would be other classes…other opportunities…for me to learn and get tested.  Rats.  I should have studied more.  I should have prepared more. I should have done something or anything, but I didn’t. Class dismissed.  See you next time, pal.

Now with all that said, it was a good evening.  I still got to be with my wife and friends.  I did occasionally smile and engage in conversation.  Oh, and the burger was really pretty good and, wait for it, my friend paid the tab.  I think he did it out of sympathy and compassion.  Regardless, it was kind. So, when we got home, I sat down and relaxed, confessed my failing grade to my Father and vowed to do better.  We will see.  We will see.  This is one area that this Jesus journeyman is a little slow to learn and God ain’t gonna let it go. Solomon, one of the smart guys from the Old Testament Bible said, “Finishing is better than starting. Patience is better than pride.” Boy, he hit that one on the head.  Looking back, I should have remembered, I should have believed that thing that I write every time I write, “He’s got this,” because…He does. Bro. Dewayne