Category: gratitude

Posted in Family, gratitude, love, loving others, Mother's Day, Scripture, thankful

Remembering Momma

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also praises her: Many women have done noble deeds, but you surpass them all!” Proverbs 31:28-29

Each year I observe Mother’s Day with Grits by publishing this story.  Why? Well, it pretty much says it all.  Mother’s Day is a day to celebrate our mothers, our wives and other ladies who have poured their life into our lives. But the problem is time can make that harder.  Let me explain. You see, time can be a bane and a blessing. It is difficult to live with but we sure can’t live without it and as we get older, it can begin to fuzz the brain and our memories. Things that at one time were vivid and clear become a midst and sometimes disappear into the fog.

That seems to be true of so many of my childhood memories—my Momma memories. Things that I am sure were so valuable, so definitive at the time, are now simply not there. I am sure that is the case with my memories of my parents as a child. When that happens, I simply fill in the gaps with hints and clues from the things I do remember. As the pieces come together, it quickly becomes obvious that my Momma was one of my anchors and a huge blessing in my life.

As I scan the landscape of my childhood, as I piece the pieces together, I realize that I had a really good childhood, and it was largely because of my parents and in particular, my mother. One of my daughters wrote to my wife Judy, “Daddy may be the head of the house but you are the one who makes it a home.” Amen. Well, anyway, as the baby of eight, by the time they got to me, two things were obvious: they had it down to a science, and I was pretty spoiled. 

Because of our finances, we didn’t get everything we wanted (not by a long shot), but Christmas, birthdays, and usually even ordinary days were special. Momma was often the one who made that happen. She was a stay-at-home, hold the fort down, mom and was always there when I needed her. Perhaps you have heard of a Swiss Army knife.  It is one crazy invention where a simple pocketknife becomes an all-purpose, whatever you need tool. And that describes Momma. Whatever the occasion she was there for us…for me. Well, truth be known, while she didn’t wear a habit like Mother Teresa or a nurse’s uniform like Florence Nightingale or banish a sword like Joan of Arc, she was that and more in my eyes. 

I wonder how many times was I sick, and she became Doctor Momma?  On so many occasions I can remember her pulling me into her lap and holding me. On one particular occasion when I was over five and under ten, I was very sick— fever, nausea, and a young body that felt like it had been beaten.  I know now it was probably the flu and probably contagious and yet there she was in our old rocking chair, at two in the morning, cradling me and holding me.  That was Momma.

Sometimes Momma put on her Leonardo da Vinci hat and showed a designer flare. I can remember as a teenager I had a rather new pair of jeans—ordinary to some—valuable to me. I was horseback riding one day, and the horse cut a corner too sharply and ran me into a pole, ripping my jeans right above the knee. Bummer. My Momma simply cut the legs off the jeans where they were torn, put in some bright red cloth, and sewed them back together. There you go…good as new, and since it was the 70’s, it made a statement. I had a one-of-a-kind pair of jeans.

Two or three times a day Momma always put on her chef’s hat. A couple of years ago I made a thoughtless and inaccurate comment about Momma’s cooking not being “the best in the world.” Can someone say, “Dumb?”  Can someone say, “Really?” No, Momma was a great cook and my waistline still proves it.  She had the amazing ability to take the ordinary and make it extraordinary. To me, her chicken and dumplings and blackberry dumplings were both legendary.  Oh, and did I mention her fried corn beef hash?  No, Chef Momma was amazing…and we loved her for it.

Yup, my Momma was amazing and the longer I live the more I realize just how blessed I was to have her.  It has been said that men often marry women like their mothers.  Well, that at least helps to explain the amazing wife that God has given me.  In so many ways she too is that wife, that mother, that grandmother that so many wish they had.  I don’t have to wish…Judy is my wish come true. Someone once said that a person who has one good friend in their life is blessed.  Well, without going any further than my home I know I have had two—Momma and my precious wife Judy.  Thank You, Lord…a bunch.

Remember, there is no such thing as a perfect Momma but a lot of us have been blessed with great ones. On this Mother’s Day, if Momma is still around, be sure and let her know how much you appreciate her.  And if she isn’t…well, be sure and thank the Lord.  And one more thought…be sure and thank your wife, for all she has done. Guys, trust me, we would be lost without them.  Oh, and do remember this, there is a God who loves you more than your Momma ever could or did.  It’s good to know that no matter what…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, life, school days, Scripture, thankful

The Emerald Buccaneers

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “The Lord is good to everyone. He showers compassion on all His creation.” Psalm 145:9

We were called the Emerald Buccaneers. There are parts of my childhood puzzle that pieces are just missing..and this is one of them.  As I have mentioned in several stories, the Taylor tribe was not the richest tribe on the block.  My Daddy worked at the Naval Air Station as a jet engine mechanic. He worked hard and he worked steady so that we could have a roof over our heads and food on the table.  Momma mostly took care of the tribe and, trust me, that was a full time job.  But the bottom line was that often…money was tight.  And then there was this.

I remember one summer, somehow and some way, Momma signed us up for swimming lessons.  They were held at the American Legion which was three or four miles from our house. I have no idea how it happened.  I’m sure it cost and I’m sure there wasn’t money in our limited economy, but we ended up at swimming lessons and I suppose that is how we ended up in the Emerald Buccaneers.

The Buccaneers were a drum and bugle corps sponsored by the same American Legion where we had swimming lessons.  Now what is interesting is we had no affiliation with the American Legion and so I can only imagine that Momma was chatting with someone, and the topic came up and the next thing I know…I was an Emerald Buccaneer.  I believe it must have been around the time I was in Junior High because that was the only time I was in band.  My sisters, I believe, were majorettes.  I played, or attempted to play, the baritone.  As you can imagine, it was quite an adventure.

For the marching season, the Buccaneers would play and march in several parades.  It was quite a big deal, and, in fact, I guess we were pretty good.  I know this is weird but somehow, I was in junior high band for a couple of years and in the Buccaneers for a while but never really learned to read music…well, at least not very good.  But somehow, I pulled it off and on weekends I would put on my fancy uniform that included a black buccaneer hat with a large white feather.  I was a part of something bigger than me and I loved it.

Now this part is fuzzy but the sponsors for the Buccaneers arranged for us to be in a competition.  We were in Jacksonville, Florida and the event was going to take place in Miami and, wait for it, for some reason, Momma let us go.  Now it was a big deal when the Taylor tribe left the county, so it was going to the moon for us to go to Miami…especially without Daddy or Momma. This can only mean two things.  Momma trusted the chaperons and Momma trusted us. I don’t remember a whole lot about the trip or the competition only that Daddy and Momma made it happen.  How about that?

There is a picture in a box somewhere that Momma took, and I am all dressed up in my uniform marching down the street…proudly playing, well, at least blowing on my horn.  And that snapshot makes me smile.  It reminds me once again of the extraordinary lengths my Daddy and Momma went to make our life adventurous.  A member of the “Greatest Generation,” those heroes that did life through the Great Depression and then won World War II, once told me, “We were poor, but we didn’t know it.”  Well, I’m not sure we were poor, but we could see it from the back porch.  But this is what I do know…we didn’t know it.  No, Momma and Daddy, somehow found a way for us to have and do. I love them for that.

I have another parent that found a way for me to have and do. Some ignore Him, some just call Him God, but I have the privilege of calling Him Father.  He found a way for me to come into His family by sending His Son to die on a Roman cross.  His sacrifice made my life possible.  I know my parents sacrificed a lot for the Taylor Tribe, but nothing compares to what God did for me…and for you. As I look back as my life as a kid, I keep remembering the small things that Leslie and Alston did and being amazed at how big they seem now.  I guess time adds perspective.

I know that is true with my Heavenly Father, my Dearest Daddy.  As I look back on my life with all its adventures…I am amazed.  He has indeed been so, so good to me and honestly, to you too. One of the authors of the Psalms said, “The Lord is good to everyone. He showers compassion on all His creation” and I have been around long enough to know that is true. I know I write a lot about God and His goodness and the fact that if we look closely enough we will find reminders of His goodness.  But I guess that is because it amazes me so.

Someone said there are two ways to live…that nothing is a miracle or that everything is a miracle.  Do you know who said that? Albert Einstein.  Turns out he was really smart…in more ways than one.  So, enjoy this day and spend some time remembering the good and forgetting the difficult. Take the time to pause…and believe…that, “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, 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 Easter, Family, gratitude, life, love, Scripture, thankful

The Easter Suit

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “But God demonstrated His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8

It’s just another one of those special memories.  It was spring in Jacksonville, Florida and number fifteen or so in my life journey.  Back in those days, Easter was a big deal, and so was what you wore.  We were raised in the tradition that Easter meant a new outfit…it is just what we did.  But just like Christmas beliefs and traditions sometimes change…so did this Easter tradition.  As we got older…the new outfits got fewer but then, for some reason, it happened.  One year, when I was about fifteen, Momma and Daddy loaded me up in the car, drove across town to a men’s store for the sole purpose of buying me an Easter suit.

I’m not sure what prompted this or a hundred other sacrifices they made for us but it happened.  The name of the store is lost to time but it may have been Tatum’s—a store known for quality men’s clothing at a good price.  So we arrived and went in and soon I was trying on suits.  They say some things never change and that is true.  Today when I shop for just about anything it isn’t the label that matters or even the style—price takes the day.  It is a matter of practically and budget.  It is true today because it was true then.  Remember, somethings don’t change.

Soon, with the help of our salesperson, we had settled on a subtle green tweed suit.  It was a very nice suit and the price was very reasonable.  I would later realize that might have been because it was a rather heavy wool material and there wasn’t a lot of demand for it in Florida.  Regardless, it was soon mine.  But Momma and Daddy weren’t done.  The salesman led us over to the shirt department and we picked out a creamy yellow shirt that matched the suit perfectly.  But wait…there was more.  Next came a tie.  To this day I can remember this—my first tie—bought just for me.  It was a linen, striped tie made of pastel colors.  Again, a perfect match for the new suit and tie.

There was some tailoring to the done but by Easter morning I was set and dressed to the nines.  That morning, I assembled my new outfit and proudly headed off to church.  I was so proud but for a special reason…one you have read before in Grits.  I was proud because of all my parents had done to make sure I had a new Easter suit. Why that year? I don’t know.  Maybe it was because I was stepping into manhood.  That year, and most years that followed, the subtle green wool suit was too warm to wear but that never stopped me from wearing it.  It was special and that was all that mattered. It was a suit of love…a suit of sacrifice.

Looking back their Easter sacrifice is made even more special. You see, that gift and sacrifice was at least a little like the gift and sacrifice that God made for us that first Easter.  He gave His best, His only Son to a Roman cross so we could be forgiven and dressed in His righteousness.  And unlike my suit that was a little too warm for Florida…His gift was perfect…in more ways than one. A perfect sacrifice for an imperfect world filled with imperfect people. And why? Because of love.

Easter, Resurrection Sunday, is just around the corner but it would serve us well to remember that every time the sun rises, it reminds us of the resurrection.  It is no accident that Christians worship on Sunday…by design it is a celebration of the resurrection. I’m not sure how long I held onto that subtle green, too warm, suit but I have never forgotten the love that bought it for me.  And, I’m sure I will never forget the love of a God who cared enough to give His very best so that we could call Him “Dearest Daddy.” 

Paul, one of the writers of the New Testament wrote a letter to the Christians in Rome.  In it, he gave them an Easter suit of sorts, a reminder of God’s great love.  He wrote, “But God demonstrated His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”  Imagine that—broken and unworthy—and yet He loved and He gave.  Today and each day, don’t leave the message of Easter behind.  He loves us, He cares for us, and He’s got this.  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 friends, gratitude, life, Scripture, thankful

Pickup Offer

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.” 2 Corinthians 5:17

I needed a truck.  They say that there is one thing better than owning a truck.  It is having a friend with a truck.  A while back, Judy and I needed some new chairs for our patio.  We found what we wanted at a not-so-local home and garden center.  There were two problems.  First, the store was located exactly 36.6 miles from our house.  The other problem was the fact that eight chairs were not going to fit in our little car.

We used to have a van and that served as our pickup truck.  While it wasn’t too manly, it did get the job done.  But now we have a little car.  The little car is zippy, and the little car gets 42 miles per gallon, but the little car will not carry eight chairs.  The fact of the matter is the little car will not carry one chair.  I had a problem. I needed a truck.  Fortunately for me I have a friend who has one.  He’s also the kind of friend you can call at 2:00 am and he will come.  He’s the kind of friend who would loan me his great, big, shiny pickup truck.

I called, he said yes, and soon Judy and I were on our way to pick up the pickup.  I had ridden in the truck before but never driven it.  It was a big, manly truck which probably explains why I ran over six curbs in the first five miles.  Judy, with some effort, climbed into the passenger side and I, with some effort, climbed into the driver’s side.  Instantly something happened.  As I slid behind the wheel I felt like John Wayne, Bruce Willis and Iron Man all rolled into one.  Watch out boys, here comes “the Duke.”

I felt manly. I found myself looking down at people in lesser vehicles to see if they were looking up at me and admiring my manly throne on wheels.  They weren’t.  But the bottom line is when I climbed into this massive hunk of raw steel, I felt more. Bigger. Stronger. Almost invincible.  Somehow, what I was riding in changed the way I saw myself.  Let me say that again.  What I was in changed the way I saw myself.

It was just about then that I realized the massive truck I was riding in was a lot like Jesus and me. You see the Bible teaches us that if anyone is in Christ, they become a new creation.  Everything in the past is past and everything becomes new.  While climbing in the truck didn’t change who I was, it did make me see myself differently.  Jesus goes one step further.  He not only makes me see myself differently…He in fact makes me different.  Climb into Jesus and things change—you change.  You become a new creation.

It gets even better.  In Romans 8:1, Paul writes, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”  No condemnation.  That means all the sins are forgiven and all the charges have been dropped.  I stand before the Judge knowing that I can’t be condemned. He wrote the law, passed the sentence, and then paid the penalty. The Judge paid the price for my sin.  That is amazing.

Why stop now?  Paul wrote in Ephesians 2:10 “For we are His workmanship [His masterpiece], created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” Whoa.  Masterpiece?  Created for good works?  You see, the truck made me feel like more, but Jesus made me more.  Now don’t start getting all puffed up thinking you did something to deserve this.  It’s all Him.  The only thing we do is climb in and that happens only because we believe.  That’s it.  Faith alone.

So, if you need a truck, I hope you have a good friend…the kind you can call at 2:00 am…the kind that will loan you his big, shiny truck.  But when it comes to a Savior, well, you can’t borrow that; you need Him for yourself, personally.  And the best part, He is just waiting for you to call.  He’s just waiting to make you new…to make you a masterpiece.  He’s just waiting to be there for you.  And all that stuff, the worry, anxiousness, fear, uncertainty, doubt, insecurity, and a bunch of other stuff you’ve been carrying…just toss it in the back of His truck and let Him carry it.  You just rest in Him.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, gratitude, life, love, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel

A Dream and A Prayer

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “But, as it is written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him.” 1 Corinthians 2:9

We had to have the wrong address. Judy and I came home from our Air Force assignment in Germany in 1977. After visiting family for a couple of weeks, we headed to our new duty assignment. We were assigned to Whiteman Air Force Base near Knob Noster, Missouri.  Yes, friend, there is a Knob Noster.  We arrived there only to find out that the state fair was being held about twenty miles away.  There were no hotel rooms. Nada. None. Period.

Knob Noster only had a couple of small hotels, and both had said they were full.  Judy was expecting and I was starting to feel like the Bible story of Mary and Joseph.  You know, the whole no room deal.  Well, the one place said try back that afternoon and maybe someone will check out.  They did and we had a room.

First, you need to understand this was back in 1980 so there was no internet to check ratings and all of that.  Second, it was the only room in town.  Third, it was bad—as in not good.  Bad as in bugs.  Bad as in bad.  Oh, well, it wasn’t a stable so we were grateful.  It was a place to sleep.  God was good. Probably though, I needed to be more specific next time when I ask for a place to stay. I needed to learn from Judy.

So, the very next day we start looking for a place to live.  There was a town called Warrensburg about ten miles from the base.  It had a university and was a nice, yet small, midwestern town.  Unfortunately, housing options were very limited.  The few places the real estate person showed us were small, dated, and pricey.  Now Judy had this prayer thing down.  She had asked God for a house with a fireplace.  My expectations weren’t that high. I had asked God for a house without bugs.  She was much more creative than me.  Honestly, I wasn’t sure God was going to pull off either one of our requests.  And then he came along.

No, it wasn’t God, but he was God’s delivery man.  His name was Mario—like the brothers. He kinda looked like Danny DeVito. He too was a real estate agent and he had heard us talking with the other agent.  He came over and introduced himself. He said, “You know, I have a house that I had built but haven’t been able to sell.  I might be willing to rent it to you.”  He gave us the address and told us go and check it out. It was just outside of town in a neighborhood called, “Valley View.”

We drove out and turned in and started checking addresses.  At the end of the first road, we had to go left or right on Valley View Circle.  We went left and began looking for house number 209.  Soon, on the right, was number 209.  But wait…this couldn’t be the right place.  It was a new, beautiful three-bedroom split level brick home.  We were shocked and said, “No, this can’t be right.”  We went and peeked in the windows.  “No, no way. Must have the wrong address.” And then we saw it.  A massive chimney connected to a big fireplace.

Well, this was too much. Judy and I were beyond excited. This was more, so much more, than we ever expected in our wildest expectations.  We immediately went back to the real estate office and hunted down Mario.  “Well,” he said, “I’ve changed my mind.  Sorry, no deal.”  Naw…just kidding.  He said he liked us, trusted us and would be willing to work with us.  The bottom line is he rented it to us at below market value.  He said he would need a security deposit and we told him we didn’t have anything saved up.  He readily agreed to tack $25 a month onto the rent till we had that covered.  Oh, and of course, it was refundable.  

So, that is how Judy and I moved into our Cinderella castle at 209 Valley View Circle. Oh, and the yard needed landscaping, so he paid me to do that and took it off the rent. Amazing.  You have probably already guessed that this is one of our favorite God stories.  I still smile as I write this because it is just one example of how God has showered us with His love and grace.  A fireplace? Really? New brick home?  Yup. God is good.

Now God wasn’t good because He gave us a very nice house when there was no way we could afford one.  God wasn’t even good because He gave Judy a fireplace.  No, God is just good.  Sometimes it is very obvious and sometimes it takes a little faith to see it…but He is good.  Someone once said, “God is good, and He is good at being God.”  I was thankful for the Knob Noster Motel (bugs and all) because it was better than sleeping in our car.  But I was also thankful for the time He gave us our wildest dream.

1 Corinthians 2:9 says, “But, as it is written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love Him.” I know that is probably talking about heaven, but I think it has to apply here too. Over the years there have been some real winner mountaintops when God just showed off. But do you know what?  There have been some valleys too. Hard times when we couldn’t see the next step.  The big take away has always been, “God is good. God is faithful. God can be trusted.”  So, I’m gonna lay my head down tonight and rest in Him believing that.  After all, He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, friends, gratitude, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, spiritual battles

What Shall We Do?

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “You are from God, little children, and you have conquered them, because the One who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.” 1 John 4:4

These days in too many ways are monsters—perhaps a cookie monster.  Crazy changes seem to take so many of the things that were precious to us and just consume them.  One minute they were there and the next…they were gone.  Like Cookie Monster, change crunches and munches its way through our lives declaring, “Me like cookies.”

We have struggled, pushed and pulled as time marched on but let’s not lose sight of what we learned.  We learned things about ourselves, and things about God.  We have stopped just reading about faith or listening to preachers tell us about it and we were given opportunities to taste it, to experience it.  Keep in mind that kind of learning happens in situations that we can’t handle.  It starts in the darkness but it is then that we get to see the dawn coming.  We get to see what he saw.

The man woke up early…just as dark was turning to dawn.  He quietly stirred so as not to disturb his master, Elisha.  It was then that he heard them.  “Them” were masses of horses and warriors lining the surrounding hills. It wasn’t going to be a good day.

For too many days we awoke to a world filled with the unfamiliar. It seemed the sounds of warriors and horses were louder and closer than the day before as politics and headlines stopped being something that was just happening on the national news. Slowly it inched its way nearer, first, in nearby counties and then even closer. Perhaps you felt the fear creeping into the pit of your stomach…again…and again.  You asked, “What can I do?”  Now the question is “How did we do?”

Our friend shakes his master out of a deep sleep.  The Word of God records it like this in 2 Kings 6:15 “When the servant of the man of God got up and went out early the next morning, an army with horses and chariots had surrounded the city. “Oh, my lord, what shall we do?” the servant asked. What.Shall.We.Do.

Did you ask that question in 2020? Last year? Recently? This morning?  Well, welcome to normal.  The best part is there is a great answer coming.  Elisha, in 2 Kings 6:16, says “Don’t be afraid,” the prophet answered. “Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.”

“Calm down, friend” Elisha said because the odds are on our side.  Well, the servant did the math and it looked like a zillion to two.  Hmmm.  So, do you find yourself doing the math and no matter how you rewrite the equation it doesn’t look good? Well – get ready because something is about to change.  In verse 17 the Word says, “And Elisha prayed, “O LORD, open his eyes so he may see.” Then the LORD opened the servant’s eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.”

And boom, just like that everything changed.  When he could see clearly it was clear that the odds were in their favor and the fear eased and the panic fled and well, it was gonna be a better day. 1 John 4:4 puts it this way, “You are from God, little children, and you have conquered them, because the One who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.”

That was true then and it is true now.  Yes, we had enough stuff in recent days and years to cause the strongest knees to knock.  The enemy was and is great, but our God was and is greater. Yes, the carnage scars the landscape but the virus, the division, the economic and emotional disruption was and is no match for our God. He is bigger…by a lot.  Ask God to open your eyes so you can see what the odds really were and are–and feel the fear ease and the panic flee.  After all, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne