Category: Holidays

Posted in Christmas, Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful

Christmas in July

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

You should remember the words of the Lord Jesus: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’ ” Acts 20:35

Christmas in July? The other day, I heard Christmas music seeping from the direction of my wife Judy’s home office. I wandered a little closer and discovered that what I thought I heard was indeed what I did hear—Christmas music.  As it turns out, she was just in the mood.  You see, Christmas music is so enjoyable, and she asked why save it for just a few weeks, once a year?  Why indeed? So, she continued to play the music of “that most wonderful time of the year” and she enjoyed it and so did I.

After all, who said we could only celebrate Christmas in December.  Why not July?  It turns out that Christmas in July is not a new “thing.” For years a few things would pop up with the idea and theme of “Christmas in July.”  In fact, tonight at the church where I pastor, we did something very Christmas like.  We packed Operation Christmas Child boxes in preparation for them being shipped around the world to children in need in some of the neediest places there are.

The boxes have a few toiletry items like soap, a toothbrush, a comb, and a washcloth.  Then there are always some school supplies and finally a few small toys.  In fact, the boxes for the 10-14 boys tonight got some simple tools.  Now here in America, the box would only garner a quick glance and a yawn but where these boxes are headed—well, it will be like our Christmas morning…no matter the date they arrive. And trust me…Operation Christmas Child is one of the most splendid things we can do for the others in this world who have so little.

So, let me encourage you to pack a shoebox…oh, definitely this November and December…but why not right now…in July?  In fact, why not pack one every month?  When you think of the excitement those kids will experience and then add to the fact that a local pastor will share the Good News of Christmas too, well it is quite the deal. So let me wish you a very Merry Christmas in July and let me remind you what the Christmas Child taught us…it is more blessed to give than to receive…whether it is July or December.

Christmas is God’s great idea…that His Son would come to earth, can you imagine that? God becoming a little baby, all for the purpose of showing His love for us.  He cared enough that He provided a way for all of us who choose to repent and believe in Him, so that we can be a part of His family…having the right to call Him, “Dearest Daddy.”  Having the right to know that no matter what, He will take care of us.  Knowing that no matter what…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, July 4, life, loving others, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials

July 4, 1974

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

No one has greater love than this: to lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13

It was fifty-one years ago today.  The summer of 1972 was unlike any other summer I had experienced.  I had joined the Air Force and spent the summer at “camp” with about forty new friends.  We shared one thing in common—we had taken an oath to “protect the constitution of the United States against all enemies…foreign and domestic.”  We had also committed to obeying the orders of those appointed over us and at this point…that was everyone else but us.  We were brand new, raw recruits who knew a lot about being a civilian and virtually nothing about being in the military.  But we didn’t have to worry…our drill sergeant was taking care of that.

I arrived at Lackland Air Force Base in the early morning hours of June 13th…early as in about 2:00 am.  This was intentional because the Air Force actually wanted you to be disorientated the first few days.  I think it was supposed to make us more cooperative.  Anyway, we quickly got into a routine sporting our new haircuts and green fatigue uniforms. They kept us going from before sunrise and put us to bed even before it was dark.  That was ok too because we were wore out.

This was my first time away from home, but the schedule didn’t allow for home sickness. But all that changed one night in July.  There wasn’t a lot of free time…whether it was a Tuesday, a Friday, or a Sunday…though they did allow time for church for anyone who wanted to go.  Most of us wanted to go…not because we loved God but for a couple of hours, we could forget the grind of basic.

Back then the Air Force didn’t observe holidays either.  Of course, the only one that occurred in my time in basic was—Independence Day.  As I remember, we definitely did NOT get the day off, but I do think we got to do some extra marching…I think it was supposed to be patriotic.  Anyway, it was soon time for lights out and then it happened. I was lying in my bunk; the skies had finally darkened, and I heard a familiar sound.  It was the sound of exploding fireworks.

I eased out of bed and knelt down in front of the window. From there, I watched the fireworks display for the base explode and light up the sky. And as I watched, a wave of homesickness washed over me.  I remembered all the times that we would go to downtown Jacksonville to the riverfront and watch the fireworks together as a family.  I remembered the times we would go to a small neighborhood grocery store and sneak into the backroom where they sold illegal fireworks and load up.  I remembered and as I did I knew that this was the first of many times that being a member of the military would mean separation…and sacrifice.

Before long the fireworks were over and I went back to my bunk and after too many minutes of loneliness, drifted off to sleep.  The next morning it was back to business as usual.  The summer of ’72 passed pretty quickly and before I knew it, I was done with basic and moved on to what was next…more training…and more new adventures. And what I discovered that night, kneeling at my window in basic, came true.  There were many more days and holidays when family was far away.  But also knew it was a small sacrifice to make to serve my country.

So today, be sure and remember those who are serving, who are sacrificing, that we can enjoy our freedoms.  Remember freedom is never free and we should be thankful for those willing to make ours possible.  Jesus said, “No one has greater love than this: to lay down his life for his friends.” That is so, so true. Look, we all know America is far from perfect, but She is still the best country on the planet—remember that today too. And if you are one of those separated from family to serve, thank you and know that the One who died for you, loves you and will never leave you.  No matter what you are facing today, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Father's Day, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, Integrity, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Daddy

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.” Exodus 20:12

He didn’t wear a cape or an iron suit, but he was a hero to me.  A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away I was born.  It all happened on January 6, 1954, in Orange Park, Florida.  I was number eight in a family of eight. This can’t be confirmed but I think it went something like this.  My Daddy was somewhat of a perfectionist and he and my Momma had tried seven times to have the perfect child.  He went to her and said, “Well, honey, I know we have tried seven times to pull off this perfect child thing and I say we give it one more shot.  I really think eight is going to be our lucky number.”  So, ta-da here I am…living proof that persistence pays off.

My Daddy was 42 years old when I was born.  He had plenty of experience at the father thing and you know, I think he did a great job.  I don’t recall a lot of special events in my early and later childhood but that isn’t because they didn’t happen.  I can remember family camping trips to the beach as well as all night fishing trips to the same.  I can remember family vacations to see relatives in all the hot vacation spots like New Jersey and Texas.  I can remember trips to Silver Springs, Six Gun Territory and Doctor’s Inlet which was a great place to go for a lake swim.  But there are also several memories with just dad and me.

When I was about six, Daddy took me fishing on Cedar Creek.  It was just me and him.  At this age, I wasn’t very good at fishing or paying attention.  Truth be known I had a hard time staying focused on anything for very long.  Anyway, the fish were biting that day, but I had a hard time watching the bobber.  Over and again, Daddy would ask, “Dewayne, where’s your bobber?”  I would look and it was gone.  We lost a lot of good worms that day.

Later, when I was about ten, Daddy took me hunting.  The big deal was that he allowed me to take my BB gun.  I wasn’t allowed to carry a real gun; you will see why in a moment.  So, we were walking through the woods, and I was about four feet behind dad.  Silent as an F5 tornado, I crept through the woods.  I was too noisy, but dad was way patient.   And then, well, I shot him in the back.  Now wait, don’t panic.  It was only a BB gun, and he did have his heavy hunting jacket on.  I had my finger on the trigger (oops) and every so slowly and without even realizing it, increased the pressure.  Just like that it went off and got dad square in the back. Bummer.

Do you know what?  He didn’t holler and in fact he didn’t say a single word.  He just looked over his shoulder and gave me that “I’m glad that wasn’t a 12 gauge” look.  I appreciated that and have never forgotten the fact that he could have made me feel “less than” but didn’t.  I’m sure we had a talk about gun safety, and it must have worked out because I never shot him again.

My two favorite memories of him don’t involve a fishing pole or a gun.  They involve God.  Honestly, Daddy didn’t go to church a bunch, but I know he was a Christian because of the way he lived. Two events, two memories are burned into my mind and heart.  The first is a time when we were having prayer time together as a family.  Some people call it family altar…at the time I probably called it too long.  I remember it was time to pray so we all got down on our knees around the room.  I got a little bored, so I peeked and there across the room was my Daddy, on his knees, talking to God.  It made a big impression on my young heart.

Later, when I was about 17, I caught Daddy praying again.  I came home from a date late one night and there sitting at the kitchen table was my Daddy—praying.  With his hands clasped together he was talking to God.  I don’t know what prompted the late-night prayer meeting, but I know it again made a big impression on me as a young man. And that is the point.  My Daddy made an impression on me that impacted so many areas of my life.  Integrity, work ethic, caring and providing for your family and being a man were all part of the core curriculum.

I didn’t get to keep my Daddy too much longer.  When I was in high school, he had a massive heart attack.  He lived a couple of more years but when he was just 62 and I was 20, God decided to take him home.  Suddenly, on a Sunday morning he went to heaven.  It was hard and is hard to this day.  He never got to meet my wife, children, or any of his eight great grandchildren. He never got to see much of my career in the Air Force or hear me preach a sermon.  I hope in heaven they keep tabs on us down here and I hope I’ve made my hero proud.

Well, now that we are all sad and weepy let me throw this in.  Whether you are young or older, take the time this Father’s Day, and every day, to tell your dad (and mom) how much you appreciate them.  One of God’s big commands is that we honor our parents and when we do—we honor Him.  There’s no better way to do that than to tell them and show them that you love them.

I know things don’t always work out with dads and if that is the case with you, I am so sorry.  My Daddy wasn’t perfect…none are but his love outweighed his warts. If you are a Jesus follower, I hope you can extend some grace…just like God did to you.  And always remember, you have a Heavenly Father who is perfect, who always gets it right. He’s always waiting for you to crawl up in His lap and take a rest.  And the icing on the cake is He is stronger than a superhero…and because of that, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Memorial Day, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials, USA

Freedom

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people He has chosen as His own inheritance.” Psalm 33:12

I know Memorial Day is the in rearview mirror but this needs to be said and read…again.  It all started one Thursday night and we had gone to one of our favorite eating places in Marion…a town not far from where we live. We did our Sam’s Club thing and then decided to call it a night. So, we headed for 217 back in Harrisburg.  As we were driving down the highway, on a whim, we made a right turn at a familiar intersection.  We had driven by it so many times but this time we turned.

The sign said it went to Creal Springs, but I found out it went somewhere else—to something else.  We were cruising along just enjoying the ride when I thought I saw one of those “brown signs.”  These signs usually indicate a place of special interest.  As I went by, I thought I saw the words cemetery and Revolutionary War. I went down the road a ways and then told Judy I saw a sign for a cemetery…perhaps an old one.  I turned around.

Back down the road, there was indeed a sign. We pulled off the road and it said, “Ellis Family Cemetery and Revolutionary War gravesite.  I really couldn’t believe that it was true.  I mean, out East you would find those kinds of gravesites everywhere, but here in Southern Illinois?  We decided we had to investigate.  It turned out there was no road, just a driveway.  Well, after trying to decide if we were going to get shot for trespassing, we decided to give it a try.  As it turned out, the driveway went between two houses which led to a pasture.  Way at the back of the pasture we could see a small cemetery.  There wasn’t a road, but I could see where a car had gone before, so off we went.

When we got there, we found the gravesite of John Ellis.  He was born in 1754 and died in 1850.  He lived for 96 years, which is incredible, but even more amazing…he fought in the American Revolutionary War.  He had two monuments.  One was much newer, one much older.  The older one simply said, “For Military Merit” and someone had painted his name on it.  I was overwhelmed.  Here in Southern Illinois was the grave of a man, a hero, who fought for the birth of our country.

This man was there, on the battlefield, when a group of men and women declared our freedom from England.  This.man.was.there.  He put it all on the line for a cause greater than himself.  And for the last 247 years that is what freedom loving American heroes have done.  Through conflicts great and small they have served, they have bled, and many have died.  I value the saying, “All gave some, some gave all.” I value the sacrifice of all these freedom fighters through the centuries and decades.  I also love what they fought for.

I know these are difficult times for our nation, but we have seen difficult times before. At his first inauguration on March 4, 1933, Franklin Roosevelt said this. “This is preeminently the time to speak the truth, the whole truth, frankly and boldly. Nor need we shrink from honestly facing conditions in our country today. This great Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive, and will prosper. So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.” Don’t rush past those words.  They are powerful and they are worth believing.

I believe in this country.  I believe that even with all its warts and imperfections it is still the best country in the world.  Having visited well over twenty other countries, I’ve seen the competition and America wins hands down.  I spent an Independence Day in basic training for the Air Force in 1972. Lights-out was about 8:00 pm and I was lying in my bunk when the fireworks starting going off.  I crept out of bed and went to the window and watched as the fireworks exploded in the Texas sky.  Two emotions came over me.  One, I missed family.  Somewhere in Florida they were celebrating freedom. The other though, was more personal.  I was becoming an American airman serving my country.  I was one of her defenders and I was proud…proud to serve and proud to be an American.

The Book says, “Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people He has chosen as His own inheritance.”  That is so true.  As a nation when we choose God, when we choose to make Him ours, we do better.  When we don’t, we don’t.  It is just that simple.  The second part of that verse is equally important. God is still inviting, calling people to be His.  Skin color doesn’t matter, economic status doesn’t matter, creed doesn’t matter.  He simply invites every man, woman, and child to be His.  The invitation is open, and the decision is personal…individual.

So, God bless America.  If you are a God follower, a God believer, why not start today with a whispered prayer of thanks for this great country.  And then, pause, be still and listen for surely the Whisperer will whisper.  He may speak through His Word, He may speak through another person, or a beautiful sunrise or sunset.  Regardless, He will whisper, “You can rest in Me.  I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, Integrity, life, love, loving others, Memorial Day, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials, USA

Heroes

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.”        John 15:13

Years later, it still tugs at my heart. I’m not sure how I found my way there, but I was grateful.  During my assignment in Sembach, Germany we had the opportunity to see so much.  From Hitler’s hideaway called “The Eagle’s Nest” in Berchtesgaden to the windmills of Holland to the Alps of Switzerland we were constantly amazed at what was all around us.  But nothing prepared me for Luxembourg.

We had some friends that we had known in our days at Moody Air Force Base in South Georgia.  They received orders to Germany several months before we did.  They were only a couple of hours from us, so we saw each other pretty frequently.  It must have been during one of our forays that we came to it—Luxembourg American Cemetery.  It was one of the most hallowed sights I have ever seen.

There, in the cemetery, are 5,075 white Lasa marble crosses and stars of David.  Row after row of headstones that mark the final resting place of American heroes.  Each one made the ultimate sacrifice for us, for you and me, that we can live in freedom.  General George Patton is buried there. Two Medal of Honor recipients are also buried there: David G. Turner and William D. McGee. Twenty-two sets of brothers lay buried side by side throughout the cemetery. Some, 371 in fact, were never found.  They are simply listed as missing in action.  102 are just unknown.

This place of honor was established on December 29, 1944.  Many of the soldiers died during the Battle of the Bulge…Hitler’s last push to turn the tide of the war in Germany’s favor.  It failed but it came at great cost to the Allied forces. It was a harsh winter and because of the urgency of the times many were sent to fight with little or no winter gear. The desperate Germans showed little mercy to those taken prisoner.  And all this occurred just nine months, nine months, before the war ended.  So many had survived D-Day and countless days of combat only to make the ultimate sacrifice months before the grand reunion with family.

Heroes.  It is a word we throw around lightly these days.  In a world where everyone gets a trophy, we are in danger of losing the value of this incredible word.  Hero. Dictionary.com defines it as “a person noted for courageous acts.” Oxford says it is a person who is admired or idealized for courage. Webster defines it as an illustrious warrior or one who shows great courage.  Another place said it is a person who at great danger to themselves puts others first.

I went to Toys-R-Us one time and there they had several aisles of superhero stuff.  As I turned the corner a sign caught my eye.  It simply said, “Real Heroes.”  Along that aisle were the soldiers and sailor figures as well as police, firemen, and other emergency responders.  If I went to that aisle today it would have to include doctors, nurses, and other medical professionals.  Real heroes…real people putting others first at peril to themselves.

But there would be one missing.  Jesus Christ, the Hero of Heaven, who willingly, who bravely, gave Himself to a Roman cross that men, women, and children could be free. The cross was so horrible it was called the death of deaths.  It was so horrible it was illegal to crucify a Roman citizen.  And yet…He went.  Why?  He loved me. He loved you.

Amazingly it was not for some of us but all of us. Skin color, economic station, language, nationality, capacity to be bad or good doesn’t matter.  The Bible simply says, “He came to seek and save that which was lost.”  It simply says, “Whoever calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”  It simply says He is not willing for any to perish but all to come home. Anyone—I like anyone. Anyone who acknowledges their need for a rescue will find one in Jesus. And this Hero not only does a meet and greet, He invites you to join His family.  How about that!

So, when you hear the national anthem, place your hand over your heart as a salute to those who paid the price for our freedom.  When you see a veteran, thank them for his or her service and sacrifice.  When you walk through a cemetery with your kids, point out the graves of the men and women who served and tell them why they are so special.  And when you talk to the Hero of Heaven next time, thank Him for forgiving your sin.  Thank Him for always being there.  Thank Him for giving you a place to rest.  And, thank Him for having this….because He does.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, Mother's Day, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

Momma and Her Day

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Jesus also did many other things. If they were all written down, I suppose the whole world could not contain the books that would be written.” John 21:25

The older I get the more precious the memories become.  This Sunday homes across America will be observing Mother’s Day. While I always assumed that Hallmark or Russell Stover’s came up with the idea, apparently, I was wrong.  It turns out that Mother’s Day as we know it began in the early 1900s. A woman named Anna Jarvis started a campaign for an official holiday honoring mothers in 1905, the year her own mother died. The first larger-scale celebration of the holiday was in 1908, when Jarvis held a public memorial for her mother in her hometown of Grafton, West Virginia.

Over the next few years, Jarvis pushed to have the holiday officially recognized as it was celebrated in more and more states across America. Finally, in 1914, President Woodrow Wilson signed a proclamation making Mother’s Day an official holiday, to take place the second Sunday of May. Well, whether it was Hallmark’s idea or Anna Jarvis, it certainly was a winner.  The bottom line is when God gave the childbearing and a chunk of childrearing to Eve instead of Adam, He did a good thing. If it was left up to the guys, the population of the world would probably be 53 and without a mother’s love and influence…things just wouldn’t be the same.  Mothers are change makers.

Something that I have come to realize is that Mother’s Day is bigger than those who give physical birth to someone.  While that is so important, let’s not stop there.  It is even bigger than those who welcomed a child through adoption, and it exceeds those who foster children.  Mothering includes all the women who have poured their lives into the lives of others.  It could be a caring schoolteacher, a loving church member or the neighbor down the street who cares.  Mother’s Day is a big deal and right fully so.

And then of course, and guys this is for you, don’t forget to honor the mother of your children.  She deserves a prize for marrying and living with you.  I know in my life, as much as my Daddy played a role in raising me, Momma outshined him.  In so many ways, she was my hero.  I only wish I could have seen it more clearly then.  Time and again she was there to nurse, guide, prod and yes admonish me on my journey to becoming a man.

I remember the time I was so sick, and she held me gently in her lap, in the middle of the night, till my fever broke or my tummy settled, and I could fall to sleep.  I remember the time that a couple of bullies from junior high were going to plummet me. I was outgunned and outnumbered until Momma stepped up and stepped in.  I remember in second grade I forgot an important assignment and Mrs. Webb had everyone convinced that they would stay in second grade forever if they didn’t turn it in.  Yup, it was Momma who stopped her world to save mine.

I remember when I had a new pair of jeans, a rare gift, and while I was horseback riding, I was shoved into a tree by the horse and ripped a huge hole in one leg.  Nowadays it would be fashionable—then it was an embarrassment.  Somehow, someway, she managed to fix it.  Oh, and I remember hundreds of suppers and dozens of pies and homemade fruitcake with grandma’s recipe.  And on and on it would go.  Everyday something said, “I love you.”  Oh, and for the record, just like your Momma, my Momma wasn’t perfect, but she sure had a way of saying, “I love you.”  She raised eight kids, and I got the privilege of being last and, though no one would admit it, her favorite.

The Bible says that if all the things that Jesus did were written down the whole world couldn’t hold the books.  Well, that would be an exaggeration for any momma, but I do know this.  If I could remember just half of all that my Momma did for me, for our family, well this story would be a whole lot longer.  Momma went to heaven when I was only 24 years old and she never met any of my children but hopefully as we trust Jesus, like she did, God will remedy that…one day.  Until then, I want to say, “Thank you, Momma” for always being there.  Thank you, Judy, for being an incredible wife, mother to our children and Mama to our grandchildren.  And finally, to all you ladies who have poured your lives into the lives of others, thanks for making a difference.  Thanks for never giving up and always believing, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Mother's Day, prayer, Scripture, thankful, wisdom

Mother’s Day Redemption

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Jesus told him, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” John 14:6

Redemption.  It’s one of my favorite words.  Yesterday, I shared a story about Mother’s Day and my feeble attempt to honor the mother of our children.  It was a story of good intentions with a not so good conclusion. It was a story that should have been about honoring but was really about muttering.  It was a story about what was instead of what could have been…should have been.  But, well, it turns out it wasn’t the end of the story.

So, without retelling the whole story (see “Mother’s Day—The Hard Way, May 9, 2023 on gritswithgrace.com) let’s just say I lost a blessing.  Judy asked for a simple Mother’s Day gift, and I fumbled the ball.  I did it but with some (ok, a lot) of muttering.  The day ended good with a great hike together and my receiving a reasonable measure of grace.  The next day, Becca, our oldest daughter suggested a trip to Pigeon Forge for a few days as recompense.  That seemed reasonable and doable and is in the planning stages.  But there’s more.

It is the time of year when ladies change their purses.  I know Judy has a dark red one that she uses in winter and a cute (did I just say “cute?”) one for spring.  Well, the cute one for spring had seen its last hurrah.  It had faded like an old leaf on the ground in late fall.  She told me she was looking for a replacement but couldn’t find “the one.”  It had to be a certain kind, it had to be the same color as last year’s, and it had to be a particular design.  She said, “I can’t find what I want.  I guess they just don’t make it.” What she was really saying was, “Here’s a chance for redemption, big boy.”

I jumped on it like “white on rice.”  I like a challenge and love redemption.  Now, I don’t know a thing about purses.  Most guys don’t do purses though some have a “man-bag.” This guy doesn’t do either.  But I do know about the promised land…Ebay.  So, I got my iPhone out, clicked on the icon and entered eBay land.  I tried several key searches. I quickly found out that whoever this Vera Bradley person is, she makes a lot of purses in a lot of designs and in lots of colors.  But I was determined…I was seeking redemption.

Well, Judy wanders in, sits down and together we continue the search.  By the time she got there, I was close.  I could smell it; I just couldn’t taste it.  And then it happened.  There it was. Vera Bradley, coral floral, cross-body purse. The right brand, the right color, and the right design. She wondered if it could be true.  She said she would believe it when she could see it, hold it, touch it.  The Saturday after Mother’s Day it came in the mail in all its glory. She saw it, she held it, she touched it. Game. Set. Match.

Her smile went from ear to ear and so did mine.  Her happiness was so evident and so was mine.  She couldn’t believe her prize was in her hands and her “prince” had brought home the bacon.  Oh, I was redeemed all right. The epic failure was gone…replaced by the laurels of “coral floral” victory! Then I said, “Wait…I’ve heard this story before.”  It is the story of God and me…of God and you.

You see, because of our sin, our failures, we were in a hot mess.  We were separated from God and there was no fixing it.  It was epic fail 101.  Then God made a way—the way for rescue, for restoration, for redemption.  And it’s not unlike my Mother’s Day story.  I searched for the one thing that would make redemption possible and found it. And we do the same.  We long for the one thing.  And it isn’t religion. It isn’t being good.  It isn’t stopping a bad habit or starting another.  It is grace.  It is forgiveness.  It is Jesus.

You see, Jesus is not a religion…we have enough of that already. As Jesus said, He is “the Way, the Truth, and the Life.”  His death and resurrection made it possible for anyone to come home to God.  He makes it possible for this epic failure to call God, “Father.” Paul, in Colossians 1:13-14, put it this way, “He has rescued us from the domain of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of the Son He loves. In Him we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.”

Well, I’m glad the story didn’t end with part one.  I’m glad there was part two. I’m glad for redemption.  And your story never has to end with only a part one.  Whether it is coming home for the first time or coming back home another time, we will always find Him waiting with open arms and a warm embrace.

Guess what?  Last Monday I was ok…Judy still loved me.  She’s like that.  This Monday, well, she thinks I hung the moon. She’s like that too.  Today, God waits to welcome you home and guess what?  No, He doesn’t think you hung the moon…He did that.  But He does love you to the moon and back.  So, let go and let Him hold you.  Rest in Him.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Mother's Day, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Mother’s Day – the Hard Way

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” John 3:16

But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8

“So,” I asked, “what do you want for Mother’s Day?”  I mean, it was a good question and a timely question.  It was a question that I asked too many times the week before “the day.”  It reached a point where anytime I started a sentence with the word “so” she gave me “the look.”

Mother’s Day, birthdays, anniversaries are all a little difficult when it comes to Judy.  “Why” you ask? Well, one she is not a “gifty” person. Now “gifty” is not a word; I made it up.  It means one who needs gifts. I am a “gifty” person.  Second, she’s pretty content.  She’s not really heavy into the stuff thing.  She doesn’t particularly like or need jewelry, candy, or even pe-can pie.  I know, it’s hard to believe!

Well, it was Saturday before “the day.”  No matter how not “gifty” Judy is, I needed to do something.  She deserved it and I didn’t want to go to jail.  So, I decided to try one more time. “So, Judy,” I said, “what are we going to do about this Mother’s Day thing?  It is tomorrow.”  At first, I thought I was going to get the look but instead she said, “I know what.”  That worried me because she had a smile on her face.  It was that “you should have quit while you were ahead smile.”  She said, “You can dig up plants for me.”

“Dig up plants?” I muttered but it was too late. The deed was done.  The deal was sealed. I agreed and after stalling for a few minutes I followed her out to the yard.  She took me to a spot under a large crate myrtle where some liriope had taken over.  So, this was it.  With a stiff upper lip, I attacked those pesky, rooty plants and ripped them from the ground. “Teach you to grow, you, you, plant you” I muttered.  It was a battle but one I eventually won.  I thought I had won the day, but I think the muttering under my breath kinda spoiled the deal.

To make up for the muttering we started tackling those killer rose bushes.  They had some dead branches that needed to go.  Now you need to understand these bushes had thorns on their thorns.  Well, before long, blood was shed…and I muttered.  I was pretty sure I was going to have to call the Red Cross for a unit of blood before we were done.  I thought, “Surely this will win the prize.  Game, set, match.”  Nope, that stinking muttering under my breath about shedding blood spoiled things again.  I think I ended up tired, bleeding, and empty handed.  I never should have muttered.  Judy calls it “losing the blessing.” I call it a real dumb move.

So, I was sitting on the patio after the medics had bandaged my arm and gave me CPR (smile) and then it occurred to me.  You know, this is what we do with God.  We tell Him how much we love Him.  We offer to do anything for Him. “Just speak the Word, Lord, and I will go, and I will do.” Then He speaks and then we stammer and then we mutter and then we lose the blessing. “Lord, what would you have me do?” we say. He mentions hard things like forgiving, loving, serving, giving, sharing.  You know, all those “ing” ending words that feel a whole bunch like digging plants.

Well, if I had pressed pause on the “mutter button” I would have remembered just how much Judy does for me.  I would have remembered how much I really do love her. I would have remembered that while I don’t like digging plants, I sure like seeing her smile.  It’s the same with God. If you just hit the pause button you would remember all that God has done for us and does for us every single day.  If you know Him, you gotta love Him. How could we not? How.could.we.not?

You see, God loves you to the moon and back.  Two scriptures put a bow on the package.  John 3:16 says God loved us enough to give His Son to a Roman cross.  But wait, Romans 5:8 tells us that God showed His love by sending Jesus die on that cross without us having to get it together, He just said “hey, come to Me…let’s get together.”  How about that?

Well, Judy and I ended up going on a great hike later in the day and had a really great time.  We were amazed at His handiwork, and I was amazed at how quickly she could forgive. I hope the next time she needs some plants dug, I’ll just hit pause on the “mutter button” and gladly start digging.  Not because I love digging plants, not because I have too but because I love the one I’m digging for.  And when we ask God what we can do for Him, whatever it is or whoever it involves let’s just get our shovels and get busy.  Afterwards, we can take a break and rest in Him.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Hard Day, Good Friday

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Jesus knew that His mission was now finished, and to fulfill Scripture He said, “I am thirsty.” A jar of sour wine was sitting there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put it on a hyssop branch, and held it up to His lips. When Jesus had tasted it, He said, “It is finished!” Then He bowed His head and gave up His spirit.” John 19:28-30

Good Friday.  What an unusual name for such a hard, hard day.  Imagine with me as slowly the light increased over Jerusalem.  It was another early morning in spring and men were going to die.  The Romans regularly crucified criminals–it was business as usual for them.  But this day, well this day, would be different.  Three men would die on crosses–two criminals and one perfect human being.  His name was Jesus.

As the light increased so did the sounds.  If you had been there, you would have heard the sounds of a crowd–a mob really.  Some were crying, some shouting, some angry, some broken.  You would have heard the sounds of struggle–anguish as a man carried a cross too big for even the healthiest of men.  At the top of a stark hill the sounds intensified.

You could hear without trying the sound of metal on metal as hammer meets nail.  Cries of humanity suffering as three crosses are lifted skyward.  The message was clear.  You don’t mess with Rome.  Scattered around are the sounds of women crying and men in anguish.  Stares of disbelief filled the eyes of many.  Listen now–there are words.

The Man in the middle–the perfect One–is speaking and what He says is almost beyond belief. “Father, forgive them.  They don’t know what they are doing.”  Forgive them?—Forgive the very ones who passed the judgement–who drove the nails–who lifted the cross? Wait, for there is more.  One of the criminals is mocking Him but the other is begging Him.  “Remember me,” he says.  And Jesus responds “Today, you will be with Me in paradise.”

There are more words.  Lean in–strain to hear. The Man in the middle–the perfect One–is asking His friend John to take care of His mother.  And then there is the cry of brokenness as He cries, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?”  He knows why.  The Man in the middle–the perfect One–has become sin and His Father can’t look on sin.  There’s a price being paid, and it involves wrath and death.  And He is willingly paying it.

As His end draws near a silence begins to fall over the hill.  The women are cried out, the soldiers are bored, and the crowd confused.  And then they all hear it.  “Tetelestai.” It’s a common word really.  It means finished.  An artist would say it when the last stroke is applied to a masterpiece.  A carpenter would say it when the last peg is driven in a newly built table. A farmer would say it when the last sheave of wheat is harvested.  But when the Man in the middle–the perfect One–says those words, everything changes.

“It is finished.”  The mission is accomplished. The price for sin has been paid and atoned for.  The wrath of God for sin is satisfied.  What justice demanded He has paid. And what He promised the criminal becomes a reality for any person. My sins, your sins, our sins, can be forgiven and you can be with Him in heaven.

So, then He dies.  Actually, He wills himself to die for no one could take the life of the Man in the middle–the perfect One.  He could give it, but they could not take it.  Rocks crack, thunder rolls and then in the distance a tearing, ripping sound is heard as the massive curtain separating man from Holy God is torn from top to bottom and God–God hangs out the welcome sign for the first time ever.  And it’s all because of the Man in the middle–the perfect One.

In any other story that would be the end, but you see it’s only Friday.  The final act is coming on Sunday. Friday ended with His followers discouraged, defeated, and afraid. Maybe like some of us. But if you lean in again…if you listen closely…you can hear the Father saying, “Rest in Me. Wait till Sunday.  I’ve got this.”  And…He does.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Easter, friends, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, loving others, Scripture, thankful

The Empty Egg

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

And He who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also, He said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” Revelation 21:5

Warning…familiarity ahead.  You probably know the old saying that familiarity breeds contempt. You know, you hear something, you read something, you see someone, you eat something and what used to bring a smile garners a yawn or a wince.  It can happen to the best of us…it probably has happened to all of us and just about this time of year it may happen again if we aren’t careful.  Let me explain.

This past week, I received an email that told a story.  Just about this time of year, it makes its annual appearance in our inboxes or on Facebook. While the story is told with some variation, it goes something like this. There was a special needs 8-year-old boy named Philip who loved to attend Sunday School at his church. The other boys and girls didn’t really accept Philip but thanks to the diligent efforts of the teacher, they were slowly beginning to see him as part of their group.

One Easter Sunday, the teacher brought in a bunch of plastic eggs to class.  She gave one to each of the children in her class and told them to go outside and find something that reminded them of Easter.  They were to place it in the egg and then bring it back in to show the class. After running around outside for about 20 minutes, the children came back into the class and placed their eggs on the table.

Their teacher began to open each egg—one by one – and each time the grand opening was followed by oohs and aahs from the class. They saw things like flowers, leaves, and even a few baby bugs and butterflies emerge from the containers and each one received warm appreciation.  Just about then it happened.

The teacher finally opened one and inside there was—nothing. The children somehow knew it was Phillip’s egg and then laughed thinking he had not understood the teacher’s instruction.  The children’s laugher soon grew to silence.  The teacher gently asked, “Philip didn’t you understand the assignment?”  And in reply, he said, “Oh yes, teacher.  You see my egg is empty because it is Easter, and the grave of Jesus was empty too.” It was as if a holy stillness filled the room.  Oh yes Philip, more than all the others, understood.  The empty egg proclaimed the empty grave of Jesus.

Now by any standard that is a that great story that teaches a wonderful lesson.  And guess what? It will garner one of two responses from most of us.  Response number one is filled with ooh’s and aah’s because in the simplest of terms the beauty of Easter is given.  It also touches the heart because the child who was often ignored and mocked won the day.

There is another response, and it is really the point of our Grits today. For many of us, we read the story…or even the first couple of lines of it…and then think, “Oh, I’ve heard this before.” The familiarity of the story then promptly robs us of the power of the message.  You see, the story was no less powerful than the first time we heard it but sadly…familiarity did indeed breed contempt.  So, what was your response? More importantly, what is your response to the message of this story we call Easter?

Here’s the big truth.  This weekend, people all over the world, some Jesus followers and some not, will pause their world and probably attend a worship service.  For some it will be something they thought they should do because it is Easter. And guess what? Because for them it is something different, they may just get it.  But for others who regularly attend a worship service and who would never miss a service like Easter, well, the story might just garner a spiritual yawn or a casual, “Oh, I’ve heard this one before.” Trust me, as a pastor, I know the struggle of trying to make a very familiar story sound fresh. But honestly…that shouldn’t be the case…not for something like the Resurrection…not for something as big as this.

I mean, a man dying on purpose for me, for you, being buried and then coming back to life—that really is the biggest of news.  It could never deserve a spiritual yawn or a casual “ho-hum.”  Nope, it just flat out deserves a hallelujah.  So let me suggest that no matter how well, or not, the speaker speaks, no matter how much you like, or dislike, the music, how about making every effort to hear and see the Easter story with fresh eyes.  Ask God to make it like the first time—and then watch Him and hear Him say, “Gladly. I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne