Category: Grace

Posted in Grace, life, Military memories, pride, Scripture, Southern born, travel, Trials

Busted Again!

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “Do not love the world [its ways, its principles] or the things in the world. For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride in one’s possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world.” 1 John 2:15-16

You know, some folks are just slow learners.  My time in Minot was short—from October to April—but filled with memories.  The base was about 20 miles from town and only a couple of guys had cars. We would load up and drive into town at negative twenty degrees with all the windows down to play “freeze out.” We would see how long we could stand the cold.   The radio would be blaring John Denver’s “Take Me Home Country Roads.”  Hey, there wasn’t a lot to do—especially in Minot in the dead of winter.

So, as a southern boy, this cold weather stuff was all new to me.  Some things I just couldn’t get the hang of.  One of those was walking on ice.  Now I had been walking since I was about 18 months old.  The difference was up in Minot you must learn to walk on ice.  The winter of 1972-73 was a great opportunity to do so. I was able to go home for Christmas. I was dreaming of a green and not white Christmas.  Up until that time it had been cold, but we had very little snow.  That was kinda unusual—especially for Minot.

Well, while I was home for Christmas they had a whopper snow —and I’m not talking about Burger King.  Something like two feet of snow fell.  But what happened after the snow was chilling—literally.  It melted…all of it.  Somehow it got well above freezing for a week or so which melted the snow and then it happened.  The temperature plunged to below zero and stayed there.  Forever.

What was left behind were vast sheets of ice.  Everywhere you looked or walked there was ice.  I didn’t have a car which meant I had to walk to and from work.  So, I would put on my arctic parka, my arctic gloves, pull my arctic hood up and take a hike. I would walk one way going and another way coming.  Going to work was not a deal.  I managed to make it without falling…or at least not multiple times.  Going home?  Well, that’s a different story.

About halfway there I would have to walk around the corner of a building.  So, off I go.  I get to this corner and not paying attention, stepped onto a sheet of ice. Bam.  In two seconds flat—I was flat on my back.  Because of the parka nothing was damaged except my pride.  Score one for the ice.  Day two.  I’m walking home and come to the exact same spot.  I eye the ice and ever so carefully step on it and in two seconds flat I am flat on my back.  Bummer.  I crawl back upright, making sure no one is watching, and press on.

Day three. I get to the corner for the third time.  I know the ice is there.  In fact, we’ve become close friends.  I gingerly step on the ice…nothing happens.  As I take my second step and in two seconds -I am flat on my back.  Excuse me?  Is this Ground Hog Day or what?  Anyway, for the third time I crawl off the ice and head on back to the dorm.  By this time more than my pride was bruised.

I know what you are thinking. Why don’t you take a different path?  Why did you keep doing the same thing and expecting different results?  The answer is…I don’t have a clue.  Thought I could beat it? Thought it was closer? Thought if I fell enough, I would break the ice before it broke me?  I don’t know.  I was stubborn. I was a slow learner. I was doing the same thing and expecting different results.

Isn’t that what we do in life?  Don’t we journey along and come to a decision point and fall flat? Don’t we sometimes do it again on Day 2? Day 3?  You know, walking on ice is one thing.  However, flirting with disaster, the kind that has big regrets and bigger consequences, is another. God knows this and tells us not to fall in love with the world—its ways, its principles, its stuff.  Remember your momma saying, don’t date someone you don’t want to marry?  Same principle.  Flirt with the world, date the world and you’ll end up marrying the world.

John—the guy in the Bible—says in 1 John 2:16, “For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride in one’s possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world.” When you say, “I do” with the world you end up with twins—regrets and consequences. Life is harder…a lot harder.  Harder than walking on ice.

So, I finally did take a different route. They say that three times is a charm.  It took me four, but I did learn.  On day four…I didn’t fall. I didn’t fall on day five either. In fact, I don’t remember falling again.  Why? I didn’t go that way. I chose a different route and that route, that path, had different consequences—better consequences.

They also say that three strikes and you are out.  True in baseball but fortunately it isn’t true with God. He keeps picking us up, dusting us off and helping us find the right path—one with less ice.  When I fell, I would quickly look to make sure no one was watching.  When we fall in life, we can rest assured Someone is watching…our Abba Father.  He’s got is His eye on us. So, be careful out there it can be icy but don’t worry, you aren’t alone.  He’s always there. Rest in Him knowing He will be there to pick you up.  After all, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, life, Scripture, sovereignty of God, spring, Trials

Big Truths from a Hard Story

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

“What is the price of two sparrows—one copper coin? But not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows.”  Matthew 10:29-31

Well, not all stories end well…and this one didn’t.  More than a few years ago, on a Friday morning, Judy left for Oklahoma to visit with Sarah, Blake and the boys.  The next morning, I got up early as usual, had some time with God and then went for my morning exercise.  When I came back, by our backdoor, was a little baby squirrel.  Now I don’t know a thing about baby squirrels, so I can’t tell you how old he was.  I can tell you that something just didn’t seem right. He had all of his fur but you could tell he was not very strong and oddly, his head seemed just too big for his tiny body.

He was in the grass, but not far from the flower bed, which is next to our backdoor.  He seemed to be eating grass but I suspect he was actually getting the water off the dew soaked grass.  He was moving pretty good but again, something just didn’t seem right. I’m not sure where he came from since there was not a squirrel nest to be seen.  I went on into the house and when I came back out he scurried into the flower bed. I put out some bird food for him to eat.  I knew he would like that because all of his big brothers did their best to empty our bird feeders.

Well, he made himself at home.  He was definitely eating some of the bird food and I believe having some of the water.  He soon made himself a place to sleep there in the flower bed.  I was hoping, just hoping, that my little friend was a big enough fighter to pull this thing off.  I would check on him each day and give him food and water.  I was doing everything I could for him.  But a day or so later, when I came home from work, well he had died.  I wasn’t surprised because I really thought something was wrong—something more than food or water could fix—something more than ending up at the wrong place at the wrong time.  So I wasn’t surprised, but I was genuinely sad.  I wanted him to live and I wanted to be his hero—his savior.  Neither happened.

Now I’m not sharing this so we can all have a Debbie downer day…not at all.  I’m learning that so many things have a story and can teach us big truths.  I think this is one of those times.  The first thing that came to mind was that sometimes we can do everything right—everything—and still not get the result that we want.  We can be the best husband, the best wife, the best parent, the best employee or the best owner and sometimes the story just doesn’t end well. It doesn’t mean we failed. It doesn’t mean we were somehow to blame. Sometimes, it is just part of this thing called life.  And while the story doesn’t always end well—we never have to face that difficult ending alone.  Our Dearest Daddy is always there.  The Whisperer is always close by and whispers the assurance of His love and His compassion.  No matter what—Jesus will still be there.

The other big truth from this is that God really does care about the smallest things.  If I told you that God knew today that this little creation died, would you believe me?  If I told you that even the smallest detail of your life never passes Him unnoticed, would you believe it?  If I told you He never grows weary of our worries and fears and unsettled hearts would you have the courage to believe?  Well you can, because Jesus said that not even a sparrow can fall to the earth unnoticed by the Father.  He even went on to say that if that is true, how much more do you think He cares about you? How. Much. More?

I know and you know that these are just puzzling times.  Everything seems so uncertain.  It seems as if we spend our days walking on quicksand—our feet unsteadily walking on shifting ground.  But don’t be shaken.  The God of the universe who cares when a little squirrel dies cares infinitely more about you.  Jesus knows and feels your hurts and pains…and He cares.

So all you tendered hearted readers, please forgive me for sharing a hard story.  I hope, though, that the big truths made it worth the read.  Why not take a moment and sit with the One who loves you so? Why not get close enough to hear His whispers of love and assurance.  I hope you will because when our hearts are heavy and a little frightened—we need to know that He’s got this.  And He does.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in food, friends, Grace, life, Military memories, Scripture

Little Jack Horner

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “Do not judge others, and you will not be judged.”Matthew 7:1

Little Jack Horner may have sat in a corner…but this time he didn’t. It was the late seventies, and we were living in Western Germany.  I was serving in the Air Force and my wife Judy and I were having the time of our lives.  We were still newlyweds and every day, and everything seemed to be an adventure.  Even church stuff.  God was and is a big part of our lives and that was true way back then too.  We were blessed to have a great church family in Germany, and you might say we were up to our eyes involved.  One of the things that we would do is go and visit people who came to church and visited us.

On one occasion a lady came to visit our church and we decided to return the favor.  Her name was Carol Horner and she served in the Army.  She was married but her husband didn’t do the church thing.  He had a thing…it just wasn’t church.  One Tuesday night we decided that we would go see Carol.  Virtually no one had a phone in Germany, and this was long before cell phones so when we went to see someone, it was usually…unannounced.  It’s funny but that sounds so strange today but back then it’s kind of what you did.

Carol and her stay-at-home husband lived on our base so that Tuesday we headed out to find their apartment.  The housing on base consisted of several large multi-floor buildings.  We found the building, which stairwell and away we went.  After climbing several flights of stairs, we found ourselves at Carol’s door.  We knocked.  Soon we could hear the sound of feet, so we at least knew someone was home.  Well, the door opened, a little, and there was the face of Carol.  We were bubbly and she was surprised…and, uh, a little apprehensive.

She knew who we were, we had met at church, and we told her we were just out visiting folks and would like to come in for a few minutes.  She hesitated, suggesting maybe it wasn’t a good time, but Mr. and Mrs. Bubbles, politely pressed the cause and after a minute or two Carol explained her hesitation.  It turns out that her husband Jack, was, uh, a nudist and actually, at that moment he was sitting in the living room…eating spaghetti and dressed only with a dinner napkin. I know you are thinking this couldn’t be true…but it was.  And, what happened next, is too.

We were persistent that night, maybe too persistent, and suggested maybe Jack would be willing to get dressed so we could visit.  She checked and he finally agreed to lay a dish towel across his lap. We went in to find, Jack, who definitely was not little, with a small dish towel on his lap, joyfully eating a plate full of spaghetti on a TV tray. Though he didn’t miss a beat…we might have.  Have you ever heard about the white elephant in the room?  Well, that night there was definitely a white elephant in the room.

We chatted, ok, we tried to chat with Carol as Jack smacked and slurped his spaghetti down.  It seems he did make one or two comments about his choice of clothing, or lack thereof, but other than that he ignored us as we tried to return the favor.  Well, we didn’t stay too long and soon it was time to call it a night.  We told Jack it was good to meet him and was grateful he didn’t stand up as we left.  Carol showed us to the door and there she told us that she was grateful that we came by.  I’m sure because of the circumstances she didn’t get a lot of company. We had a short prayer with her and said goodnight.

As I remember she became a regular attender at our church and no, Jack, never did.  I’m sure he couldn’t decide what to wear. Smile.  Two things were true about that night.  First, of all the visits Judy and I have made through the years, nothing ever came close to Jack Horner and his towel.  To this day, he occasionally comes up in our conversation when we have spaghetti.  Second, though, is something more important.  Somehow, some way, Judy and I got something right that night.  We managed not to judge Jack and to make Carol feel welcomed and appreciated. 

Being humans, we don’t always get it right, do we?  But that night reminds me that people are just people and regardless of how crazy it might seem, we just need to leave the judging to the Judge and leave the stones on the ground where they belong. Jesus said that if we are wise enough not to judge we will find that people are less likely to judge us.  That’s good advice.  I don’t remember Judy and I gossiping about Jack.  I don’t believe there were harsh whispers as we descended the stairs but there probably were some smiles and giggles. You see, you just never know what you will find on a Tuesday night. As I think of Jack sitting in his chair that night, I am reminded of one thing. No matter what, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, gratitude, life, Scripture, sovereignty of God, Trials

The Sky is Falling

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” Matthew 25:13

The clock was ticking…and I didn’t even know it.  Getting older is, well, interesting.  It certainly has its perks…like you mess up and people just give you that knowing nod, you know, the one that says, “We’re gonna give you a pass on that because you are old(er).” Of course, sometimes they are not understanding, and they give you the “what for.”  One of the things that is just a bit difficult are the things that you lose.  You know sometimes you lose your mind, sometimes you lose your hair, sometimes you lose your teeth, sometimes you lose your vision and sometimes you lose your hearing.  Wait, what did you say?

Well, I can speak from personal experience on a couple of those things.  My hair is in full retreat and my hearing, in a least one ear, is well, less than.  One of favorite hearing tests is the fact that I can cover my “bad” ear and still hear our clock ticking at 25 feet.  If I cover my good ear…not matter how close I get…I can’t hear a thing.  One time I put my face up to the face of the clock and still couldn’t hear it.  But here’s what is kinda strange—it’s not every sound, but only certain frequencies.  I can hear most voices (except for some reason my wife’s), most music, and most other sounds.  Of course, some things you just can’t hear—or see coming. That happened several years ago.  A clock was ticking, and I had no idea.

My wife called me one Wednesday afternoon.  She sounded a bit frustrated—you know like that tone wives have when they ask their husbands to take the trash out for three days…well, it was kinda like that.  Just a little edgy.  But this had nothing to do with the trash.  Instead, she said, “Dewayne the ceiling in the middle bedroom has fallen.”  I said, “What?” She repeated what she said, yes—I had heard her right.  It turns out that over half of the plaster ceiling in the spare room was now laying on the bed and floor.  I said I was on my way! When I got home, I found out that she was not kidding or even exaggerating.  Water-soaked plaster and blown insulation covered the bed and the entire floor.  What a mess! How do you even begin to clean it up?

As it turns out…it was not a fluke. We have an air conditioning unit in our attic for the upstairs. When the company installed it, they build a small platform where the overflow pan would sit.  The pan was there in case the primary drain clogged. So, unknown to me the main drain clogged, and the pan began to fill. The pan also had a drain but in this case, it just wasn’t enough to handle the excess water. As it filled with water the platform slowly, ever so slowly, began to tilt.  As it tilted, the water in the pan spilled over the edge and onto the attic floor, seeping into the ceiling.  Slowly, surely, over a few days, and believe it or not, without a drip, the ceiling continued to absorb the water until it had enough… and the insulation and plaster fell…big time.

It was a sloppy, no fun, you’ve got to be kidding me, mess.  And then, of course, we had to repair the ceiling.  It took us a couple of hours to clean up the mess and a good friend helped me repair the ceiling. We also had someone come in and properly rebuild the platform so it would not give way again.  In two or three weeks the whole thing was a memory.  It was a learning experience for sure.  One lesson I learned, is to make a trip to the attic on a regular basis and make sure everything is working.  Pour some bleach in the drain to kill any algae and make sure the drain isn’t clogged. Two, understand that there are clocks ticking that we don’t hear…can’t hear and when the straw breaks the camel’s back—you’ve got yourself a dead camel.

Life is filled with surprises and with some of them, all the preparation and all the good intentions in the world, can’t help you avoid them.  But we can do what we can.  It never occurred to me to ask God why He allowed that ceiling to fall.  I mean, I know He loves me and I’m sure on that day He wasn’t mad at me.  The bottom line is… I didn’t do my part.  My part was to make a trip to the attic every once in a while and check things out.  His part was to help me not lose my cool in the midst of the mess.  And, amazingly, even though I didn’t do my thing…He did His.  He sent friends to help and now in the summer when the air is running I make an occasional trip to the attic.  You know, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure—or several pounds of wet insulation and plaster. So, thank you Father for helping me grow in patience and shrink a little in frustration.  Thank you for being faithful and for always being there.  I know You’ve got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, priorities, Scripture, thankful

Dance With the One Who Brought You

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “But one of them, seeing that he was healed, returned and, with a loud voice, gave glory to God. He fell face down at His feet, thanking Him. And he was a Samaritan.” Luke 17:15-16

Circumstances can make for strange bed fellows. There was a group of guys who hung together–ten of them in fact. Truth be known in another world they would have never been friends. Nine of the guys were Jewish and one was a Samaritan. They lived on opposite sides of the tracks. The Jewish guys would have been raised to believe that the Samaritans were “less than” and the Samaritan would have been raised to believe that all Jews were “better than you” temple goers. Like oil and gas, they wouldn’t have mixed. Leprosy changed all that.

We are not told how, who knows, but they contracted leprosy or the walking death. Their lives were reduced to isolation and suspicion. If you went to Walmart during COVID without a mask, you might know some of how they felt. They were forced to live away, far away, and proclaim their uncleanness to anyone they met. The fact that nine were Jews and one was a Samaritan just didn’t matter anymore.

Well, one day something happened. Luke 17:11-17 tells us Jesus was walking along and He heard this group hollering. They were saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” We aren’t told of how they knew of Jesus or why they believed He could change their lives. All we do know is that they somehow believed and hollered. And Jesus answered.

Over the distance He hollers back, “Go show yourselves to the priest.” There was not a pronouncement of healing. There was only a command to trust. They found themselves at the crossroads of reality and faith. They looked at their diseased bodies and weighed it against faith. A step toward the priest meant they believed. To stand where they were meant “nope.” Well, “hope” beat out “nope” and off they went.

As they took the first step–and the one after that–amazingly they were healed. You could hear the whooping and hollering across the wilderness. Man, were they happy. They were free and they were outta there. Fading in the dust was the Master who had set them free. But wait. One of them is coming back. It is the Samaritan–the unlikely one. He falls down at the feet of the Freedom Giver and gives Him thanks and praise. The unlikely one, and the only one, who gets it right.

Jesus wonders, “Weren’t there ten of these guys?” Weren’t nine of them good Jewish boys?” He was impressed that this “foreigner” came back to say thanks and I think he gets a second helping. Jesus says “Go your way, your faith has healed you.” I think the Samaritan dude got healed of leprosy and a relationship with the healer. He got more–way more.

There are two things we need to pack away from this story. First, the Jesus who was your BFF (that’s best friend forever) during the messes of life wants to be your BFF every day. The One who takes care of your fears and anxieties during the storm wants to take care of them after the storm. He wants to be your Savior, your Redeemer, your Rescuer, not for a while but forever.

Linked to that is this idea of gratitude. When the nine were set free they left Jesus in the dust, “adios,” see you later. They were thankful for the moment but not the minutes following. The Samaritan, however, came back. He was determined not to forget what Jesus had done for him. The right thing, the wise thing, but probably not the popular thing.

The question is, what are you going to do when “this” (whatever that happens to be for you) is all over? Are you gonna run as fast as you can to a life crammed with stuff or are you going remember the One who stood by your side and spoke to your heart? Someone once said if Satan can’t get you to sin…he will keep you too busy. He knows that is just about as good.  You and I need to remember to “dance with the One who brought you.” Over the din of busyness, remember to not forget the One who whispered, “Rest in Me” and “I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Easter, forgiveness, Grace, heaven, life, Scripture, spiritual battles, thankful

Ready, Set–Go!

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “No one takes it from Me, but I lay it down of Myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This command I have received from My Father.” John 10:18

Well, you will probably be reading this on Maundy Thursday—the Thursday before Good Friday—day day of the Last Supper—the launching pad for the greatest event in human history.  This Sunday will be the epitome of the Christian calendar.  That day followers of Christ around the world will be celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

That day, churches around the world will be filled with people who, at least on that day, declare their belief in Jesus Christ and His resurrection from the dead. Most churches will experience their largest attendance of the year. People who attend church infrequently seem to be drawn to worship around Christmas but especially around Easter.

Really that shouldn’t surprise us at all.  At Christmas we feel the warm embrace of a baby coming into the world.  In the case of Jesus, the birth of the Savior of the world…Emmanuel…God with us.  Wrapped in that night is hope…hope that there will be a tomorrow.  But the celebration of Easter goes forward from there.

You see, in Easter…actually in the Christ of Easter we find strength, power and victory.  Buried in each of us is the confrontation with our own mortality…we all must face death.  Short of the rapture, we all are going to face death.  In the celebration of Easter we find that death doesn’t have to be the end…in fact, it is a beginning of sorts.

When Jesus willingly died on Good Friday and demonstrated His power over death by resurrecting Sunday morning, He forever proclaimed that mankind no longer had to fear death.  I love what He said in John 10:18.  Speaking of His death, He said, “No one takes it from Me, but I lay it down of Myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This command I have received from My Father.” 

Isn’t that just incredible?  I lay my life down and then I can take it up again.  It is that power that led Paul to write in Philippians 3:10 “that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection…”

Really, there is such power in all of this that the resurrection and the One who was resurrected must be the center of our worship every week.  This most likely is the reason the first century church worshiped on Sunday. They understood the power of this great truth.  Think about it–no other man–no other religious leader or teacher–no one ever did what Jesus did.  It was so big that 2100 years later we are still talking about it.  Incredible.

So, as you read read this may it be your motivation to get ready to celebrate this Sunday and every Sunday. Not only does this truth have the power to change our lives—it also can change the way we worship. Begin now, right now, to prepare for the biggest Sunday of the year. If you’re not sure how, just as the One who pulled all of this off. Believe me…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Easter, friends, Grace, gratitude, love, Scripture, spring, thankful

One Ugly Cross

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “For the word of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but it is the power of God to us who are being saved.” 1 Corinthians 1:18

Good Friday and Easter are right around the corner and I want to share something that happens every year at our church. It is the story of a cross.  I know all Christian churches have crosses, in fact, we have several.  But each Easter there is a special cross that sits at the entrance of our church.  And it has a story to tell.

A while back our church had two services on Sunday morning—one early and one later.  When people came to our early service on Easter morning, they were greeted by what can only be described as one ugly cross.  It is made of weathered 2×4’s and covered with…chicken wire.  I am sure more than one person sees that cross and wonders how the custodian could forget to store it before services started. What they wouldn’t know is something is going to happen to that old rugged cross…something that will make it beautiful.

Long ago, there was another old rugged cross and it too was ugly.  It was “repurposed” as criminal after criminal was hung from it.  Nails were driven through human flesh and blood was spilt.  Rome didn’t take kindly to those who rebelled against their stern and unfair system of “justice.”  Like the cross in our foyer, it didn’t need to be displayed…it needed to be hidden.  Then, one day, something different happened. Something different indeed.

So, what about the ugly cross at our church?  Well, you see during the time in-between our two services a wonderful transformation would take place.  The ladies would take dozens of beautiful flowers and completely cover the cross and piece by piece, bloom by bloom, that ugly old cross became beautiful.  And two thousand years ago, the same thing happened.

I know, the thought of Jesus, the Rose of Sharon, the perfect Lamb of God, nailed to a Roman cross, well, is anything but beautiful…until we remember.  We remember that He was no held by nails of iron but by love.  We remember that He was there not for His own sin but for ours.  He was there so that we could call His Father our Father and suddenly His old, rugged cross takes on a new beauty.  It is a beautiful picture of love, sacrifice, and redemption.

Perhaps that is what led the hymn writer to write, “On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross—the emblem of suffering and shame. And I love that old cross where the dearest and best for a world of lost sinners was slain.” Perhaps the author was able to see past the blood and gore to a Savior’s blessed glory. Perhaps he saw what we should see…what we need to see. Paul saw it…that is why he wrote, “For the word of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but it is the power of God to us who are being saved.” No doubt.

Well, at the end of our second service, people would stop and pose by the now beautiful cross and its beautiful blooms.  Its beauty reminds us that instead of an instrument of death, it was an instrument of redemption.  Its beauty shouts that He is no longer hanging on a cross, He is no longer tucked away in a borrowed tomb, no, He is alive…He lives.  Hallelujah…what a Savior…what a Redeemer…what a Rescuer.

Each year on the Monday after Easter, our cross was stripped of its now dying flowers and it was stored away to be rediscovered next year.  But let’s make a point to never forget what the old, rugged cross is all about…redemption, rescue and love.  Let’s gather each week, whether it is Sunday or another day, and celebrate an old rugged cross and an empty tomb.  Because they are both empty, we have a reason to celebrate.  Need a little help with that? Don’t worry…He’s got that.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

Prayer–Healing and Grace

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “Three different times I begged the Lord to take [the pain] away. Each time He said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:8

I woke up and it was there. “It” was a more than subtle discomfort in my right hip. I found that I could still function but it kinda was a pain in the rear…pun definitely intended. In the past, I found this might happened when I would sit too long in my church office crafting and building messages. Sometimes hours would pass before I realized I needed to stand and walk around. Too often my sciatic nerve, the largest and longest nerve in our body, would get aggravated and when it did it let me know it. In those cases it would last a couple of days and then we would declare peace. That was then. This time…it didn’t.

Well, the bottom line is it got worse and worse and finally it was time to see the doctor. On the Friday before we left to visit sick relatives in Georgia, we talked and he suggested increasing my ibuprofen and doing some stretching exercises. I did both and left for Georgia.  Well, it continued to got worse and worse. Before long each step…e.a.c.h. s.t.e.p…resulted in some of the worse pain I can remember. I was pretty sad, pretty unhappy and pretty despondent. So, I finally decided I should pray.

I was set to preach on Sunday and I wasn’t too sure I could. So, I talked to God. I told Him I was certain that He could heal me. That was plan one. Plan two involved asking Him to give me the grace to endure and trust Him…it’s what Paul did in 2 Corinthians 12. So we walked on…limped on…waiting and trying to trust. Fast forward to Saturday afternoon. Just about then the pain began to slack up. It didn’t disappear but it was so much less I could walk without limping. I knew right away that God had heard my prayer and was in the process of healing my leg and giving me grace. He gave me a combo answer…some plan one and some plan two.

Well, there is much more to the story but since I am limited to about 500 words or so we will leave it there. What you need to know is I was simply overwhelmed with God’s goodness and faithfulness. And, in some crazy way, I was able to begin to thank Him for the experience of pain. Why? How? Well, because of all of this I experienced His kindness to answer my prayer—to heal and to extend grace. Without the pain of it all…I would have missed that blessing. How about that?

I want to leave you with two thoughts. First, never, ever forget the goodness and kindness of God. You see, the fact is God has never stopped being good…we just stopped being grateful. His goodness is everywhere…we just need to be sure and find it and see it. Remember, God doesn’t just do good—He is good. He is good when there is pain and when there is not.

The second thing I want to leave with you is a quote from our old friend, Charles Spurgeon. He said, “I have learned to kiss the wave that throws me against the Rock of Ages.” Now that is good. We know we have traveled a long way down the road of faith when we can honestly thank Him for the good things He sends our way—and for the difficult things too. We learn far more in the hard times than in the good times. We learn the way of trust and faith and we learn that no matter what, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Easter, fear, forgiveness, Grace, Integrity, school days, Scripture

Sinning Starts Early

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “But if we confess our sins to Him, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness.” 1 John 1:9

I used to think I was a pretty good kid. As I have shared with you from my past, certain memories come to life. Some are humorous, some are serious, some are painful, and some are, well, criminal. I still think the crime of the century was when I decided to rob the little world bank that my Momma brought home from church…for safekeeping. But there was at least one more thing that I did that proved for certain I was, and still am, a sinner.

I was probably eight years old.  While there wasn’t a WalMart to be found there were other stores that were the forerunners of today’s retail mega-giant.  Ours was called Atlantic Mills and it was the place to go for good deals for just about anything you could imagine.  I remember it well because that is where we bought our Easter outfits.  We would go either Friday or Saturday before Easter (depending on Daddy’s payday, of course) and the girls would get their patent leather shoes and frilly dresses and I would get a shirt and tie.  Even then it was quite the event.

Easter wasn’t the only time we went to Atlantic Mills.  We would occasionally go just to shop around.  Of course, at my young age, I equated shopping with buying. I still do.  Why go to a store if you aren’t going to buy something? That’s like going to a restaurant with no intention of eating.  What? Really? So, anyway, one time we went, and it was one of those times when we weren’t buying—we were looking.  Well, that just didn’t work for me, so I started begging Momma for a dollar.  Now, keep in mind, a dollar in 1962 was the equivalent of the entire economy of a third world country.

Momma said no. Period, nada, ain’t gonna happen.  Well, I kept begging. (I was pretty good at it.  Give me enough time and I could wear anyone down.) Finally, out of shear desperation, she reached in her purse and pulled out—a quarter.  Was I grateful?  Of course not.  Even then a quarter just didn’t have a lot of buying power.  I finally gave up and took my quarter to look for a treasure.  Two things happened in the next few minutes. First, I started feeling guilty for hassling my Momma and decided I should spend the quarter to buy something for her.  Someone say, “Awww.”

The second thing was I realized that besides candy, there wasn’t a lot in Atlantic Mills for a quarter. Well, I looked around and found a pretty scarf that I just knew my Momma would like.  The problem was it was something like $1.49.  So, my young sinner/criminal mind began cooking something up.  I wasn’t about to outright steal it.  That could get you hard time.  So, I decided that I would switch the price tags.  I looked around and found something for a quarter, found a place where no one could see me, and carefully removed that price tag and put it on the scarf.  There. Done deal.  No one would ever know the difference.  Oops.

I went to the checkout counter and found out two things.  First, did you know even then there was a code on the price tag indicating what department it came from.  I found out too late that they didn’t sell scarfs in hardware.  Second, the checkout lady was not a newcomer to the checkout business, and she quickly realized that this scarf was worth more than a quarter.  Bottom line—she nailed me.  She looked down at my frightened face and into my tearing eyes and said, “Did you switch this price tag?”  Well, I “spilled my guts” and I believe I even told her why.  She didn’t turn me in…she didn’t have too. Her words were enough punishment.  I walked away a mess with my quarter still in my hand. As far as I remember I didn’t buy anything that day and I guess I gave the quarter back to Momma. It was a total disaster.

Now, before you act as the States Attorney and put me on trial, the stature of limitations has expired on this.  And besides that, I was just doing what sinners do—sin. And since we are all sinners, all of us can probably identify with this sin thing. It didn’t matter that I was eight—I was old enough to know better.  I don’t know if I told Momma or not but that didn’t matter because God knew, and He is even more important than Momma. It is things like this, and a lot more, that make me a big fan of God.  The way He extends His grace to sinners like me is just amazing.  It is so amazing they wrote a song about it.

I well remember the guilt and shame I felt that day which probably means I did confess to God and probably to Momma too.  I’m sure both forgave me.  A guy named John, who was a BFF (best friend forever) of Jesus and who wrote some of the New Testament said that if we are willing to confess our sins, God is more than willing to forgive us.  That is good news. And the best part?  There are no limitations. His love and grace go longer and further than the “Energizer bunny.” No matter what, if we come to Him in sincerity, He will sincerely forgive us.  He can handle my eight-year-old sins and my sins today.  And, as always, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, life, Military memories, priorities, Trials, wisdom

It’s A New…

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “Yet 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.” 1 Timothy 6:6-7

They say confession is good for the soul so here goes. When it comes to buying 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 Toyota 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.” One Sunday I was speaking at the church where I pastord 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 Daddy, 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