Grace – Page 79 – Grits with Grace

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, life, prayer, Scripture, thankful, travel, Trials, wisdom

Light at the End of the Tunnel

Posted on February 4, 2021February 3, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

I have come as a light to shine in this dark world, so that all who put their trust in Me will no longer remain in the dark.” John 12:46

There’s light at the end of the tunnel. I have heard that saying all my life (well, at least a chunk of it). But the truth is the light at the end of the tunnel just might not be enough. You see, about 20 miles from where we live, there is a bike trail with a tunnel that is 543 feet long. It’s located in beautiful Southern Illinois. Oh, I know, I say beautiful and Illinois in the same sentence and all people can think of is flat corn fields and Chicago. But tucked away in what we call the “real” Southern Illinois are many trails with beautiful hills and rock bluffs in the Shawnee National Forest.

Tunnel Hill Trail is a gem in our area and perhaps the highpoint of the trail is its tunnel. Our church has an annual bike ride that begins at the tunnel. At its peak we would have over a hundred riders—big and little, young, and old. What makes it even better, the small town of Vienna (where we have our picnic) is only ten miles or so from the tunnel and that part of the trail is either flat or slightly downhill. I told the church riders that, but I’m sure after riding it they thought I might have stretched the truth. Well, maybe a little. But the truth is—ten miles on a bike seat is still ten miles on a bike seat.

I have learned over the years to respect every foot of the tunnel there. As you enter the tunnel, two things are apparent. One, there is plenty of light. So, it is easy to assume that there will be plenty of light all the way through. That would be a mistake. Second, you might assume that since you can see the “light at the end of tunnel” that would be enough to get you through. Uh, that would be a mistake too. Let me describe it…though words really can’t do the job. You have to experience it.

Whether you are riding your bike or walking, as you enter the tunnel you really do think, “Oh this isn’t too bad.” There is plenty of light and of course, you can clearly see the light at the end of the tunnel. Slowly, very slowly, almost without noticing, the light fades away and suddenly, just shy of halfway, you find yourself in total, eerie, darkness. What seemed so easy now seems increasingly difficult. Even with the light at the end of tunnel, you can’t tell where you are going. You think you are in the middle of the trail when in fact you can easily be heading straight for the walls. Over the years, everyone who has ridden with our group has made it through the tunnel. It’s just that some of them came out with a few bruises and scrapes…courtesy of “the walls.”

Well, after about a hundred feet, light slowly starts appearing around you and before long the light pouring in from the end of the tunnel envelopes you…and you are glad. I’ve even ridden in the tunnel with a flashlight and it still seems difficult. You see, light at the end of the tunnel or not, darkness is difficult. You simply lose all sense of where you are. That is true in tunnels…and it is true in life. Too often we are faced with choices and decide that we can handle what our common sense tells us is a bad idea. We enter the tunnel with plenty of light and assume we have escaped the blight of our choice. Only later do we see what we couldn’t see—the consequences of our decision. Only when we “hit the wall” do we understand the pain of our decision. It is only after we emerge back into the light that we can see the wounds from the walls and realize the scars that we will bear.

Life will have its valleys and not all tunnels in life are caused by our misguided choices, but the good news is regardless—we can find help. Imagine what it would be like to take sunlight with us into the valleys—into the tunnels of life. What if the deepest valley and the darkest tunnel could be lit as noon is on a sunny day. Well, it can. You see, there is a light that defies darkness and is brighter than the sun—in fact, it is the Son. Two thousand years ago a Man was born that claimed…and proved…that He was the Son of God and His name is Jesus. Have you ever wondered why this simple carpenter from an obscure village in the Middle East commands center stage on the stage of history? The reason why? He is the real deal. The Bible describes Him as the Light of the world…and He is. And when a person follows Him, he walks in His light.

Jesus said, “I have come as a light to shine in this dark world, so that all who put their trust in Me will no longer remain in the dark.” That is a claim, a promise, worth checking out. When we were kids a lot of us were afraid of the dark. As adults most of us have outgrown that fear, but we still have reason to fear the phantoms of the dark…things that are bigger than us. Jesus drives the darkness and phantoms away when we chose to follow Him. He’s waiting right now to bring light into your life…your tunnels. When we find ourselves in our darkest moment, you will hear the Whisperer whisper, “Fear not…I’ve got this. And He does. Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, Southern born, thankful, wisdom

The “Switchings”

Posted on February 3, 2021February 2, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

No discipline seems enjoyable at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.” Hebrews 12:11

I guess I just got bored. When I was growing up in North Florida it was just easy to get bored. It was a different time. There was no internet, no satellite or cable television, and no electronic games. Then, you have to add to that there just weren’t a lot of toys to play with. While Daddy and Mama loaded us up at Christmas, by summer a lot of them had suffered from rough play. So, you had to get a little creative! And that’s when I got into trouble.

One of my favorite things was to make rubber band guns. It was really quite easy. They were building houses across the street from where we lived (slowly our place in the country was becoming suburban). Like at any construction site there were lots of wedge shaped sticks sticking out of the ground. I later learned they were surveyor sticks. Oops. Anyway, they had lots and I needed one, every once in a while, so I would, uh, borrow one…or two. Well, Mama took the local newspaper so we got a paper every day and it came wrapped with a rubber band. You simply collect a few rubber bands (they were discarded in the yard), drive a nail in your stick and tada…you had a rubber band gun. See…creative.

Well, that was bound to get old, so I came up with another idea. In North Florida, the soil (at least where we lived) was very sandy. I discovered that if you take a water hose and start forcing it against the sandy soil it will act like a drill. As the water forced the sand away, the hose would slowly sink into the sand. Well, it was fun. Before I knew it, the hose was a foot in the ground, then it was two, and then it was three and it was just about then I wondered how I would get it out. So, I gave it a tug. It didn’t budge. I gave it a pull—nope, it didn’t give an inch. I was in trouble.

What happened next is lost to time and history, but one of two things happened. Number one. I left the hose stuck in the ground. Daddy came home and wanted to water his rose bushes. He found the hose stuck in the ground, asked me and I told the truth, and I was sent to the bamboo bushes to get my own instrument of correction. Think a thin bamboo switch. It was effective…every time. Number two. I realized that the hose was stuck in the ground and I realized that Daddy would be coming home soon, and he would water his rose bushes. So, I went in the house and got a knife and cut off the hose. The end result was the same. He asked, I told, bamboo switch. By the way…another sign that times have changed. I looked up switch and was told it turned electricity off and on and was an electronic game that kids play. Mine was neither.

You know, I really didn’t intend to mess up the construction site across from my house and I really didn’t mean to get my Daddy’s hose stuck in the sand. The truth was I was just naive. But there is another truth. My being naive didn’t change the fact that I shouldn’t have done what I did and in the case of my Daddy’s hose—it didn’t change the consequences. You might be asking, “Did your Daddy really give you a “switching?” And the answer is yes. You might ask, “Do you think you deserved the “switching?” The answer is yes. Finally, you might ask, “Did you learn anything from the “switching?” And the answer is yes.

You see, I never, ever again, turned on the water and let the water hose get stuck in the ground. I don’t believe I was ever even tempted to let the water hose get stuck in the ground. You see, the “switching” was not an act of anger or meanness, it was an act of love. Daddy was teaching me about right and wrong and I am grateful for that. Daddy had several ways to discipline and they were generally fair and not too harsh. And I believe they worked because I’ve never been arrested or spent a night in jail—yet. I wrote recently about being a compliant person…and I am, but part of that might be because my Daddy (and Mama) cared enough to help me learn.

I never really bought into the thought that the “switching” hurt my Daddy more than me because I know it hurt pretty bad. But I do know he didn’t enjoy it. My Heavenly Father doesn’t enjoy it either and He loves me even more than my earthly Daddy. God’s Book, the Bible, says that no discipline seems enjoyable at the time, but painful. Well, that is the truth. But is also says that later on it yields a kind of fruit—the kind that teaches us right from wrong. And that is profitable.

So, the lessons for today? Don’t pull up surveyor sticks and don’t stick your Daddy’s hose in the dirt and above all…remember that your Father up in heaven loves you. In fact, He loves you enough to allow hard things in your life to help you learn right from wrong…to make better decisions with fewer consequences and regrets. And don’t worry…He is loving and patient. He never over reacts but rather responds in just the right way. And as always, He’s got even this.

Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials, wisdom

My Cussing Summer

Posted on February 2, 2021February 1, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus.” Romans 8:1

It was the summer of my rebellion. I know, some people are born compliant and some are born a little on the rebellious side. I was born compliant. I have always been a rule keeper—well, at least most of the time. I suppose that is why I took to religion so well. You see religion is all about keeping the rules. The idea is if you keep enough of the rules then people will like you and most importantly, God will like you. And sure enough, it worked—well, at least part one worked. In my younger years, most of the adults thought I was a good boy. Church? Got it. Drinking? Not a drop. Drugs? Nope. I can hear them saying it now, “That Dewayne is such a nice boy.” And, I suppose outwardly I looked pretty good, but pretty good won’t get you to heaven.

You see the second part of the religion mantra is that you can make God happy by performing—by keeping the rules. That one is 100% false. There is no one, except Jesus, that was good enough to go to heaven. Yet it seems so many church people say they believe that rules won’t get you to heaven, but act as if they will. They carefully do this and that and boy, if you happened to be one of the ones who didn’t keep the rules, you were tried, convicted and sentenced. That’s why I had to keep my cussing summer quiet.

I think maybe all the rule keeping must have finally got to me. The bottom line is during the summer between my junior and senior years of high school—I started cussing. I had a job at an apartment complex down the road from our house and I worked with the son of the head maintenance man. He was not a Jesus person and he did like to cuss. So, one day, I just started cussing too. I had heard enough cuss words at school to know most of them, so I didn’t have to have any lessons…though I did have to work on my voice inflections.

It was a very tricky time in my life because I had to turn the cussing on at 8:00 am and I had to be sure and turn it off at 5:00pm. That’s what you have to do when you are living a double life. Under no circumstances did I want to spoil my good boy image at church or with my Mama and Daddy. I do remember one time I let a small one slip and Mama looked at me with eyes that said, “Where did that come from?” Of course, I didn’t, I couldn’t let her know that her baby son was a cusser.

And, as quickly as it came, it passed. At the end of the summer, I had to go back to school and therefore had to quit my job. All I know is that the cussing stopped and my rule keeping world got a little easier. I managed to please a lot of people, but I knew I was far from pleasing God. It would be several more years before I finally figured out that rule keeping didn’t work and religion didn’t either. When I was 21, I finally found grace and boy was that a game changer. Honestly, it is taking me a long time to shake the deep roots of rule keeping and religion. I’m still working on it.

You might ask, “How do you know if you are under the influence of religion and rule keeping?” Well, its two main indicators are self-condemnation and a tendency to judge others. Rule keepers are acutely aware when they or others around them break a rule. Rule keepers (and religious people) like to point out other people’s sins and faults because it makes them feel better about themselves. If they can make you feel bad, then it makes them feel better. It’s a pretty twisted world.

God’s way is so much better than religion and rules. Did you know His Book, the Bible, actually says that when someone believes in Jesus and becomes one of His followers that there is no condemnation—none—nada? I mean when the prosecuting attorney and the judge both acquit you—the trial is over. I’m slowly learning just how valuable that is. There is an audience of One that Jesus followers have to live for and that is God…their Heavenly Father…their Abba Father…their Dearest Daddy. I love what Toby Mac (a contemporary Christian singer) said, “I gave God a million reasons not to love me. Not one of them changed His mind.” I like that!

Well, I’m glad my cussing summer is ancient history. I still look back at those two or three months and wonder what in the world was I was thinking? The truth is…I probably wasn’t. But now, by grace, that, and all my other failures, warts and sins are forgiven…all because of Jesus. I’m so grateful for that. If you have never discovered grace and forgiveness, especially God’s kind, I hope you will check it out. Don’t get confused with religion and rule keeping like I did. God’s got something far, far, better than that. Think you’ve messed up too much to be forgiven? Nope…don’t give it a second thought. Trust me…He’s got this.

Family, forgiveness, Grace, life, loving others, Scripture, Trials, wisdom

Pardon Me, Your Slip is Showing

Posted on January 28, 2021January 27, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

A good person produces good things from the treasury of a good heart, and an evil person produces evil things from the treasury of an evil heart. What you say flows from what is in your heart.” Luke 6:45

Pardon me, but your slip is showing. Change is everywhere. I can well remember my Mama getting dressed for church. In those day she always wore a couple of extra “accessories.” First, she was a big fan of what I guess was called girdles. As I remember, these things were designed to hold things in place around a lady’s waist. I never saw Mama put one on, but I know she wore one. How? When we were sitting in church, I would get bored and start doing “things.” Things are anything to help pass the time. So, I would poke my Mama in the side, only to find that it was hard as a rock. As impenetrable as the Great Wall of China, there was something firming things up. I suspect it was “the girdle.”

The other thing was something called a slip. As best as I could tell it was worn under a lady’s dress to ensure that nothing was seen through. Now I know more about this because my Mama always wanted to be sure her slip wasn’t showing. It was important to have the slip shorter than your dress by a couple of inches. Well, since she couldn’t see behind her (we didn’t have a full-length mirror), she would say, “Dewayne, is my slip showing?” I would get behind her and give her the report. I think in our early years of marriage, slips were still in vogue. I’m pretty sure Judy asked me to give her the “slip” report too.

Nobody, and I mean nobody, wanted to get to church and have their slip showing. How many times did we get somewhere public and there in front of us would be a lady with her slip showing, Mama would sadly shake her head and say, “Oh my, her slip is showing. She should have someone check.” Well, some time ago slips went out of vogue and so with it the way of the slip report. No slip…no report. But the saying still lingers.

When you hear someone say “your slip is showing” it means that something they intended, or perhaps should have intended, to be hidden is there for everyone to see. Well, here’s a news flash. Someone needs to tell everyone that their “slip” is showing in social media. Now I am not a Facebook person. I use it to post Grits, to make a couple of church announcements and wish people happy birthday. But beyond that, it just isn’t my thing. But even with that limited exposure, and thanks to folks who sometimes tell me what they see, well, there are a lot of “slips” showing.

I’ve almost stopped being shocked at what people write on Facebook. It seems people confuse the privacy of their journal with Facebook. Things that should never be written or spoken spew on the pages like a bad case of the stomach flu. Hurtful, painful words too often fill the screen of our devices. I remember one time a lady who attended our church at the time wrote some very un-Jesus like words. I asked her about it and she said, “Well, I didn’t know the whole world would see them.” “What? Uh?”

So, I think when we see someone being unkind and harsh in social media we should just say, “Pardon me, but your slip is showing.” Now “showing your slip” with unkind words is never right. You know your Mama taught you, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” Well, Jesus gives us another perspective and warning. He tells us that out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks. In other words, what comes out of our mouth is simply revealing what is in our hearts. And if hurtful, unkind, and sometimes untrue words flow from our mouths, or our fingers, according to Jesus, it is just revealing what is in our hearts.

I know, if you aren’t a Jesus follower that doesn’t make a lot of sense but hey, kindness is really in vogue these days even in the secular world. It might be selective kindness, but it is there. Now, if you are a Jesus follower, God gives us a word for this kind of word stomach flu. It is called sin. No matter the circumstances or the way we attempt to justify it, it is sin. If you feel the need to express your displeasure with someone, why not try praying. God is always up for an authentic prayer on behalf of someone and you also won’t be surprised to hear “your slip is showing.”

I happen to be one of those people who too often speak without thinking but I am learning to hit the pause button. They say the older you get the more you lose your filter. You say things…and write things…that are just not right, or kind or both. Then, you end up telling God you are sorry and experiencing that regret thing. Of course, depending on your lack of filter, you may not have any remorse…and that is the worst thing of all.

So, what do you say? Let’s start a “Pardon me, your slip is showing” campaign. It is a gentle way of letting someone know that their communication is, shall we say, embarrassing. They may not thank you now but maybe, just maybe, they will later. And if you are like me and sometimes wrestle with putting your mouth in gear when you shouldn’t, ask God to help. He will, trust me. This is a big deal to Him. The good news is that like everything, “He’s got this.”

Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Barney

Posted on January 26, 2021January 25, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

For instance, there was Joseph, the one the apostles nicknamed Barnabas (which means “Son of Encouragement”).” Acts 4:36

It happened driving down the road at 55 miles per hour. When I was growing up, there was one man outside my family that I respected so much…one that garnered my admiration. It was my pastor. His name was James Branch. I happened to be an insider at his house because his son was one of my best friends. It didn’t matter when or where—I always saw him as a man I could trust and more than once he was there for my family. When my Daddy died early one Sunday morning, he was at my house. I can still remember him on the back porch in his white shirt minus the black tie he wore, consoling my Mama. She was so upset and began to hyperventilate. Bro. Branch, with his hand on her shoulder, spoke words of comfort and peace. There can be no doubt he played a big role in how I would later serve as a pastor.

That might be why it stung so much. I received an email this week from a national organization. It revealed the results of Gallup’s national survey on American’s perception of the honesty and ethical standards of professions. Not surprising, 89% of Americans gave nurses high or very-high standards. Doctors stood at 77% followed by pharmacists at 71%. Well, I certainly can’t argue with that. These dedicated folks have surely shown their colors this past year during the COVID-19 pandemic. Hats off to our school-teachers too, who scored 75% and our men and women in blue who scored 52%—the only other profession about which a majority of Americans say have high or very high ethics and honesty.

The article went on to say that clergy or ministers came in at 39% when it came to honesty—right between judges and nursing home operators. While senior adults as a group ranked pastors higher (51%), the younger generation (ages 18-34) rated pastors only at 24 percent. To put it in perspective, in 1985, pastors received a 67% rating. When I think of my pastor in 1974 who stood on the back porch with my grieving family, I have to wonder, “what happened?” Why is it that so many think so lowly of clergy? Some of the reasoning, I believe, is a cultural shift—while too much, might, just might, be the truth. It seems we can only go a few weeks without some named pastor being in the news for some breach of trust. I just don’t know.

When I read this news, I grieved. After all, pastors, above all other Jesus followers, should be, must be, people of integrity. We should set the example. Granted, we are not perfect—in fact far from it. Like the old saying goes, “Christians, including pastors, aren’t perfect, we are just forgiven.” I like that. This is why what happened that day driving 55 miles per hour meant so much. My phone rang.

I looked at the caller ID and saw it was a young man who is a member at the church I pastor. Honestly, I wondered why he was calling. While we speak often at church, he is not on my speed dial and I’m sure I am not on his. I answered the phone and exchanged greetings and said, “Hey, what can I do for you?” What happened next was not what I could do for him, but what he did for me. I won’t get it all right, but the bottom line is he said, “I know you have a really hard job right now with all that is going on. I want you to know as one of the younger generation, I think you are doing a good job.” He shared how he and another of our young guys were talking the other night—sharing the same thing. It made my day and I told him so.

It turned out that he was driving in the same direction as I and had passed me and just felt prompted to make that call. I’m so glad he did. It is one of those times I just wonder if the Whisperer whispered in his ear and said, “Call Dewayne. He needs a good word about now.” And thankfully he did. So, let me encourage you to be an encourager. We all know people who just need a word to help keep them going. There was a guy in the Bible whose name was Barnabas, which literally means “encourager.” I’m assuming he was such a positive force in the lives of others, someone said, “We’ll just call you Barney…and it stuck”.

So, to my Barney that Friday morning, thanks. Thanks for listening to the Lord and thanks for encouraging a guy who happens to be a lot older than you and who happens to be a pastor. And keep it up. There are a lot of empty cups in our world that need filling. I love the fact that my Dearest Daddy believes in me. I’m still amazed how much Judy believes in me. But when someone outside that circle cares and believes…that is special. Let’s join Jesus and be the light in someone’s day. Encourage everyone you know and assure them that everything is going to be okay. Why? Because, “He’s got this.”

Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, wisdom

Their Best

Posted on January 22, 2021January 21, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

“Do to others whatever you would like them to do to you. This is the essence of all that is taught in the law and the prophets.” Matthew 7:12

It was our second trip to West Africa. We were back on the dry sandy desert fringes of Niger doing a food distribution. It was such a barren land made worse by an ongoing drought. The people would do just about anything for food. While we had prepared to feed many of the people, truthfully, we couldn’t feed them all. So, families with the greatest need were chosen. We would go to their villages the day before the food distribution and meet with them and do some registration work before the distribution.

It is hard to describe the poverty there. Simply put, most of the people had nothing. They had little food and little water but something amazing happened everywhere we went. We would gather with the leaders and the people in their village. We would give them a word of greeting and then they would greet us. All of this, of course, was done with the help of interpreters. After a while, we would complete the necessary paperwork and finalize details for them to come to main village the next day. And then, it would be time to say goodbye for the day.

This was a repeat of the greeting we had done when we arrived. They would graciously thank us for coming and we would graciously thank them for allowing us to come. Then it happened…every time. These incredibly poor people would present us with gifts. Often it was some sort of leather craft decorated according to their customs and their people group. It was such a gracious act of kindness and we always left feeling incredibly blessed. They who had so little gave to us who had so much.

It was the last appointment of the day. We drove and drove—it was more than several kilometers. When we arrived at the site, we realized it wasn’t a village it was just a meeting place. The people we were to meet were truly nomads. Someone had set up a large tent made from skins and rugs to offer some shade from the searing Saharan Desert sun. When we arrived, there was one or two people there but soon many more arrived and the area under the tent was filled with five white guys and a bunch of men whose skin was tough like leather and tanned a deep brown. Then we really saw it.

In the middle of the tent and now surrounded by people sat a medium sized metal bowl. In the bowl was what can only be described as dirty, brown water. As I looked at the bowl you could see something swimming. It was the larva from some sort of insect native to Niger. I assumed that perhaps this was for us to wash our hands though I was quite certain my hands were cleaner than the water in the bowl. I would soon find out that the water wasn’t for washing.

Soon the greeting started. We thanked them for letting us come and they thanked us for coming. Then someone in their group made the presentation. It wasn’t a brightly colored trinket…it was the gift of water. And the brown water in the bowl wasn’t for washing hands soiled by the West African dust. No, it was a portion of their precious drinking water. That brown water with larva swimming it in was what they drank every day, and they were offering something very precious to them—something they could ill afford to give.

Ordinarily, we would try and eat or drink what they offered, but our missionary knew, and we knew, that one drink of this water would make us very seriously ill. So, through the interpreter our missionary explained that while we deeply appreciated their kindness and generosity, we could not partake in the water for that reason. They certainly understood so the water remained throughout our visit. At the end we reversed the greeting process and climbed aboard our four-wheel drive for the long drive back to where we were staying.

The ride was quieter than normal. Each one of us was clearly aware of what had just happened. We all were pierced to our hearts over this act of immense generosity and the immense blessings that God had graciously poured on our lives. Mission trips tend to do this to anyone who travels to a third world country. There is always some kind of guilt over having so much while those you serve have so little. But understanding God’s grace and humbly serving others at least helps. But it always changes you. It always marks your life.

In my mind’s eye I can clearly see the bowl of water all these years later. I can still see the people coming through the gate after walking kilometers to get their food. I can still see them trying to manage the heavy bags of rice and millet. But something was missing. Not one person complained about the lack of a vehicle to carry their load. Each was just grateful to be able to eat that night. And, yes, we were changed again. I would like to think that a little of their gratitude rubbed off on us and that it still remains. I know we will never forget those eleven or twelve days in Niger.

You don’t have to go to Africa, or Haiti, or Nicaragua, or London, or China, or Bulgaria, or the Philippines or wherever to serve. Each of us are missionaries on a mission field and each of us can serve others…just like Jesus did. One day He was sitting on a hillside teaching the people and He said, “Do to others whatever you would like them to do to you. This is the essence of all that is taught in the law and the prophets.” It really is that simple. It won’t get you to heaven…God’s grace and faith in what Jesus did on the cross does that. But it is an opportunity to be like Him…to love like Him. It’s a tall order but don’t worry, you know that He’s got this too.

Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, Southern born, thankful, wisdom

Wrong Pew-Wrong Girl

Posted on January 21, 2021January 20, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

Pride leads to disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.” Proverbs 11:2

It was an oops…a big oops. I was in my early twenties and life was good. I was enjoying my first enlistment in the Air Force, I was stationed not far from my hometown of Jacksonville, Florida but more importantly, smack-dab in the middle of the land of grits. I was engaged to the prettiest girl in town and we were both Jesus followers and involved in a local church. And that’s where it happened.

I have always loved music and most would say that I have a pretty good singing voice. It started when my Mama forced my oldest sister to let me sing “I Love You, Truly” in her wedding, I have had multiple opportunities to sing publicly—at least in my limited world. Later I would be a part of a couple of singing groups and so it probably isn’t surprising that I would provide special music at our church. So, here’s how it played out. Things are always pretty predictable in the services of Baptist churches. There would an opening song, someone would give a welcome and make some announcements, we would sing two more songs, take the offering (and sometimes the word “take” was very literal), there would be a special song and then the preacher would preach. After he got done (which could take a while) there would be a closing song and prayer. These things were so set in stone, they were printed every Sunday in the bulletin. You didn’t mess with the “order of worship.” If it wasn’t in there—we didn’t do it.

Sometimes, I would be the one who sang right before the message. I was usually pretty comfortable in front of people and that turned out to be a good thing because later on I would become the guy who talked for a long while. Now even though I was comfortable singing in front of people, each time it was still a little nerve racking. While I definitely can be the life of the party, I sure didn’t want to embarrass myself in from of a couple of hundred people. Well, one day I did…but not like you think.

On that particular Sunday, at the appropriate time, I went up to the stage and sang my song. I don’t remember the name of the song but I do know it went well. I know because it was one of those times I left the stage smiling. The people had enjoyed the presentation and I had enjoyed presenting it. All was well. So off the stage I bounded. Truth be known, I was probably feeling just a little cocky. I should have remembered that the Bible says, “Pride leads to disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.” But I didn’t.

My fiancée Judy and I always sat over by the wall and about halfway back in the pews. We were as predicable as the sunrise. So that is where I headed. It was a “zippy do dah” moment and when I got to the place, I sat right down and through my arm around the girl I loved. Only it wasn’t. I sat there for about four-seconds and realized something didn’t feel just right. I glanced over to my right expecting to see the face of my fiancée but instead I saw the face of the preacher’s daughter. Her face was a doing two things at once. First, she was smiling and second it said, “Why are you here and why do you have your arm around me.” Oops. I had missed my landing zone by one pew. There’s an old saying, “Right church, wrong pew.” It means you had the right general area but not the right exact spot. Well, in my case I had the wrong row and the wrong girl. I sheepishly stood and moved back one row. Right row, right girl.

So I bet you’re wondering what happened? Well, gratefully Judy wasn’t mad. I mean she could have given me the “what for” but she didn’t. The crowd, well, as you can imagine they were laughing and if I remember correctly, it all warranted a comment from the pastor who happened to be the father of the girl. Well, it all turned out fine, but it was definitely one of those times you don’t forget. As I think about it—I have had lots of those moments which means I have had lots of learning opportunities.

The lesson that day was, “be sure you know where you are supposed to land.” In my “zippy-do-dah” moment I had landed at the wrong airport. It was no deal because it was an honest mistake. No harm—no foul. But that’s not always the case. Sometimes our oops, especially the intentional or semi-intentional ones, can leave a mark or two. When you are a life of the party kind of guy it is too easy to have a laugh at someone’s expense. I’ve learned that in life it is easy to do something on the spur of a moment that can have a long lasting “oops”. Can someone say, “I bought a new car.” Can someone say, “Seven years of payments.” Smile.

Well, Judy and I have been married coming up on forty-five years and when she reads this she will remember and odds are, she will smile. I am grateful we have lots of days that cause us to smile and far fewer of the kind that cause us to wince in pain. That is called grace—extended and received. So, as you navigate through life and you’re preparing to land at your selected airport—make sure it is the right one. You might want to contact “the tower” and confirm His opinion of your intended landing site. It might save you some embarrassment and pain. You can always count on Him…He’s got this.

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials

I’m All Shook Up

Posted on January 20, 2021January 18, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

The prudent see danger and take refuge, but the simple keep going and suffer for it.” Proverbs 27:12

I grabbed it and couldn’t let go. I’ve said it before but growing up, times were pretty hard. My Daddy worked very hard to provide a good home for us and we always had plenty of good food. Sure, sometimes there was more “loaf than meat” but hey it was still good. One of my favorite food memories from when I was nine or ten was a fried potato sandwich. When there wasn’t any meat for sandwiches, Mama would slice some potatoes and fry them up. We would slap those things between two pieces of bread with some mayo and instant heaven. I mean who doesn’t like home fries anyway?

We lived in an old World War II barracks that had been converted into a two bedroom house with a breezeway that led to a closed in garage that served as a third bedroom. We also had two acres of land which was great for playing but not so great for mowing. We didn’t have a riding mower until I was in my teens so the two acres had to be mowed by hand. To get it done we had an old push mower. Just trust me that was a lot to mow with a push mower. Anyway, this mower had two unique qualities. First, it didn’t have a throttle. It had one speed—wide open. It was one of those deals where you wrapped a rope around the top and gave it a yank. If you said your prayers and held your tongue just right—it would crank. And like I said, when it started…it started.

The other quirk with our lawnmower was that it didn’t have a kill switch either. There were two ways to turn it off. First, you could take a screwdriver and ground the spark plug to a metal part on the mower. The second was a lot more risky. You could attempt to pull the spark plug wire off the spark plug. Now, keep in mind I was pretty young and didn’t understand all the dynamics of a spark plug, the coil and touching the wrong thing at the wrong time. I was a setup for a shocking experience.

So one day…you can see it coming can’t you? Well, one day, I was done mowing and the lawnmower was running wide open. I had to kill the beast—slay the dragon if you will. I was a good piece from the shed and didn’t have a screw driver so that left only option 2—pulling off the spark plug wire. Running wide open, shaking like a hula dance (that would be me and not the lawnmower) I reached down and grabbed a hold. I still don’t know if I grabbed the wrong part or if the current came though the brittle insulation on the wire but it got me.

I’m not sure if I can describe the sensation that I experienced. I can vividly remember two things. My whole arm shaking and the fact that I couldn’t get loose. I’m sure I’ve never experienced anything quite like it. Like the Ray Stevens song about the Mississippi Squirrel, I was sure “something had a hold of me.” I don’t know how I got loose. It may have been mercy from above or pure desperation but I did get loose. The lawnmower was still running and my arm was still shaking. If you ever see this strange twitch in my left arm—well, it still hasn’t got over the sensation.

I’m supposing I got a LONG screwdriver and killed the engine and I am also sure I never, and I mean never, went out again without it again. You only need to grab the wrong thing one time and you will never do it again. I know that is true with quirky old lawnmowers but I also know it is true with bad decisions. I suppose everyone of us has a bad decision somewhere in our past—and I am not talking about spicy pizza as a midnight snack.

There are certain things, and a lot of times they are lawbreakers, that you shouldn’t do once much less twice. If we would just hit the pause button and think about it we could eliminate a lot of our regrets and consequences. Do I really want to do that? Do I really want to keep that date? Is that a call I really want to make? Is that a relationship I really want to maintain? Think about it. I have never done this before but I just need to use that verse we wrote about recently. It is from Proverbs (which is like wise sayings) and it tells us the prudent (or wise) person will see danger and take refuge. The simple (inexperienced) person will see the danger and keep right on going.

Let me tell you. I grabbed that wire once and once was enough. The only thing that would have been better was if I would have walked to the shed and got the screwdriver. It wasn’t that far. But, I thought I would be the exception. I thought I could pull it off…no pun intended…and I was wrong. I.Was.Wrong. I don’t know if there is anything in your life right now that is a bad idea or maybe you’re making plans. Take some advice from a former “wire grabber.” Don’t. Just do the right thing and you won’t regret it. Oh, and if you don’t, there is a God who loves and cares for you. And if you ask, He will help. He’s got this.

Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, wisdom

Patrol Boy

Posted on January 19, 2021January 18, 2021 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, depending on how far their post was. 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 like 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 was when one of my fellow patrol boys made me mad and I whacked him with my flag. Not very hero like. But the deal was while it looked good from the outside, it didn’t look that good on the inside. Trust me it wasn’t as pretty. 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 of the people all of the time.

There should be another saying, “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. I wonder if it would be a good idea to talk to ourselves sometimes and just ask the question, “Hey, how’s your heart? Is everything ok?” If we would be willing to do that, it would be a game changer.

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.”

Family, food, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

Holy Moley

Posted on January 18, 2021January 17, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

The prudent see danger and take refuge, but the simple keep going and suffer for it.” Proverbs 27:12

This is the kind of story I don’t like writing. Since some of you know me and some of you don’t, I’ll start by saying that I have issues. Yup…and more than one. With that said, this story is about my health issues. All my life I have had this battle with my weight. Although people say I wear it well, I pack more baggage than I need to carry on this trip called life. Consequently, most of the time I am either on the way up…or on the way down. That’s just the way it is. And honestly, it is all about—sugar.

You see, I love snacks, and in particular, I love sweet snacks. Now I’m not talking about candy though I’m not saying I would turn down a Butterfinger. No, I like baked stuff and I am an equal opportunities eater. Pies, cakes, donuts, cookies, brownies, cinnamon rolls—if it is baked and sweet—count me in. To help counter the calories, I do try and exercise—at least some. In fact, at the beginning of last year, 2020, I managed to walk a couple of miles a day, five and six times a week for months. Yay for me…but then something happened. However and whatever the cause, sometime late fall I quit and when I quit—it happened. The flat-out truth is I started gaining girth like a snowball going downhill.

Well, I did what any self-respecting foodaholic does—I just quit getting on the scale and, oh yes, I quit checking my blood sugar too. Did I mention that I am a diabetic? Did you also know that donuts, cake, pie, cookies, and brownies don’t go with diabetes? But don’t worry, I’m not a really severe diabetic. That’s another way you quit doing the right thing. You simply justify your behavior. A guy said this week that justifying is “just a lying.’” Ouch.

I was a recipe, no pun intended, for disaster. I could tell I wasn’t doing well. I could feel my body saying, “Excuse me.” After binge eating on whatever was sweet one Sunday, I got on the scale on Monday. Holy moly. I also checked my blood sugar on Monday. Holy moly the second time. Good grief. I was so frustrated with myself. I didn’t even have to ask, how did it happen? I knew…all too well.

Here’s the deal. You know those red lights and crossing guards at railroad crossings? Do you know the consequences when you ignore them? Well, I ignored the lights and the crossing guard and the easiest way to do that was just quit—quit weighing and quit sticking your finger. Anybody can tell you the truth of this. To start down the wrong path just STOP doing the things that help you be accountable. Maybe, your AA meetings. Maybe your exercise. Maybe going to church. Maybe reading your Bible. Well, the list goes on and on.

I stumbled on a really, good verse in the book of Proverbs this week. It says a wise person will see danger and take cover. A foolish (or inexperienced) person will see the same danger and keep right on going. That’s a good verse. No, that’s a great verse. What about you, what is it in your life right now that you can see the red lights flashing and the crossing guard down? More importantly, what are going to do with it. Trust me…it is really important. You see that decision will determine your regrets and consequences. Remember that “holy moly” moment I wrote about—yup, that’s the deal.

The answer is simple. Stop saying tomorrow and start today. There’s a saying I just love—when you are tempted to stop, just remember why you started. I know I’m only two weeks in but here’s the results so far. By returning to my exercise and eating healthy and breaking up with my beloved carbs and sweets, I have dropped over 13 pounds and my sugar…normal. I am grateful that my body still responds to doing the right things. And for me it is relatively easy…at least with these two things. But trust me there are other things that are a daily battle.

The good news is I have someone who stays by my side…as the Bible says, a friend closer than a brother. Who would that be? My Dearest Daddy. He is for me and never against me. He has things planned for me that are too good to miss. I know this COVID has messed with our spiritual stuff pretty badly. But I hope you will make the decision, today, to “get back on the scale.” Your Heavenly Father will be there to help. He’s got this.