Category: Holidays

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Thanksgiving, travel

The Rock

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights.” James 1:17

The Rock.  If you talk to someone that has done “hard time” they will probably think you are talking about Alcatraz.  If you talk to someone who likes action movies, they will probably think you are talking about Dewayne “The Rock” Johnson.  But if you are talking to me or my wife Judy, then we will know you are talking about “the rock.”  It’s a long story.

Judy and I met and fell in love in short order.  I walked into her church one Wednesday night. I asked her out the next week and ever since then we have been a “we”.  We were together as much as possible—we wanted to be together as much as possible. Since my Daddy had passed away that summer, Mama decided to spend Thanksgiving with my brother Joe up in the mountains, and I was invited to come join them.  It was a deal because I really wanted to be with Judy, but I knew my place was with family and my Mama especially.  So, I went.  I told Judy I would miss her, and I would bring her something back from the mountains.

Now I’m known for doing crazy things—it’s just me. While in the mountains I tried to think of something to take to Judy.  It didn’t seem appropriate to take her a typical souvenir, so I got an idea.  I would take her part of the mountains. I went out and found a rock. It was about the size of a pumpkin roll…elongated and was even orange with white stripes. As Thanksgiving rocks go…it was a pretty, good one.  I washed it up and put it in the car.  Game. Set. Match.

I’m sure in the book of love étiquette there is a chapter on what to bring your love when you go to the mountains.  I am also sure if I had read that chapter a rock would not have made the cut.  But hey, I was inexperienced.  So, I got back to Valdosta where I was stationed in the Air Force and where Judy lived.  After the appropriate number of hugs and kisses I presented her with her gift.  She seemed thrilled and seemed to appreciate my thoughtfulness.  Please note the word seemed.

Time goes by.  We were married a while later and the rock made the trip from her parent’s house to our new apartment.  We later received orders to Germany and the rock made the trip with us.  When we came home from Germany and moved to our new duty assignment in Warrensburg, Missouri, the rock came with us. And on and on it went.  To the home we built in Warrensburg, to the little parsonage in LaMonte, where I had my first full-time pastorate, to Cobden, Illinois where we pastored for 14 years.  Finally, it came with us to Harrisburg. It was part of the family. It was more than a pet rock it was “the rock.”

About ten years ago, around 2010, somehow the topic of the rock came up. I was sharing how endeared I was to the rock—how important it was and then it happened.  Judy told me she never liked the rock.  She told me that she wasn’t thrilled all those years ago. She only pretended to be thrilled to make me happy.  The bottom line was the rock was just a rock.  Oh, the agony.  Oh, the pain. Oh the “you’ve got to be kidding me.”  Here I’ve been hauling this rock all over the world for nothing.  I knew I should have gotten her one of those Smoky Mountain snow globes!

Well, like a pet who’s forgotten how to be potty trained, the rock was moved to the yard. It was still special to me, so it now sits on the grave of one of my favorite pets.  Somehow that just seemed appropriate and if I were to move tomorrow—yes, the rock would go.  If nothing else, it is a monument on what not to bring the girl you love from the mountains.  I’m glad that God is better at gifts than I am.  It seems—no, it more than seems, that He always gets it right.

He talks a lot about gifts in His Book.  He loads us up day after day.  Every sunrise and sunset are a gift.  Every breath is a gift.  Every fall leaf that floats to the ground full of color is a gift.  We need to look and recognize all that He gives us.  James, one of Jesus’ half-brothers, wrote that every good gift, every perfect gift comes down from our Dearest Daddy.  He just loves to shower us with His best and He does it again and again.

Well, it was no accident that I brought a souvenir rock home that year, it was no accident it was orange with white stripes, and it was no accident that it is still with us. In fact, the word souvenir is from the French, meaning “a memento, keepsake, or a token of remembrance which a person acquires for the memories the owner associates with it.” How about that! Still, I guess it wasn’t the right gift for her on that day. Today though, it was the right motivation to remind us of this year, above all years, to be grateful for a God, a Heavenly Father who is oh so generous to His kids.  Why not sit down today and make a list of all the things God has provided and all the needs He met?  Take your time…enjoy the moment and when you are done…read the list to Him and say “Thank-you, Father.”  And then for all the things that are bigger than you or for the things that just look like rocks, gratefully give them all to Him because, as always, He’s got this.     Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, missions, Scripture, thankful, travel, Trials, wisdom

Oops

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

We must pay more careful attention, therefore, to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away.” Hebrews 2:1

I should have paid closer attention.  This past week our church took its annual trip to Atlanta to work at the Operation Christmas Child distribution center.  Samaritan’s Purse heads up this amazing ministry that encourages people to pack a shoebox with toys, toiletries, and the like.  The boxes are then collected and shipped around the world to kids everywhere…last year 10 million of them! To the kids it is the greatest gift ever.  But the best part is that each box contains the story of Jesus and how much He loves them.  Every child loves the gifts, but many also hear about Jesus for the first time and love Him too.

So, we take a day and travel on our church bus from Southern Illinois down to Atlanta.  We work a full day at the processing center preparing the boxes to be shipped and then the next day we travel home.  It is a busy three days and frankly the day we work at the processing center is a long, but wonderful, day.  The travel days are easy thanks to our great bus driver Brent.  Brent is on staff at our church, and He loves people, loves Jesus, and loves to drive!

Well, we left early, really early, Tuesday morning and travelled all day before arriving in Atlanta in the late afternoon.  After we checked into our hotel rooms we loaded back up on the bus and went to a mall that was close to the hotel to get supper.  We went our separate ways but several of us ended up at a Greek restaurant.  It was good.  We took our time enjoying the meal and soon it was time for us to leave.  My wife Judy was going to pay our bill and I told her I was going to go to the restroom.  Having not been there before I looked for the sign and headed in that direction.  It was down a small hallway.  I only saw one sign and it said men, so in I went.

No one else was in the restroom and in just a minute I was ready to leave.  When I opened the door, a lady from our team was just about to push the door open.  I looked at her and she looked at me…something wasn’t right.  My first thought was that she obviously was confused and was going into the wrong restroom.  But then I had a thought.  It was odd that the restroom didn’t have the usual equipment you find in a men’s restroom.  And then it hit me. Oh no!

Well, I blurted out to her, “Am I in the wrong restroom?” And she confirmed my worst nightmare…I was.  Fortunately, I knew her and fortunately no one else was in there, I began to apologize all over myself.  Crazily, in my 69 years of life, this had happened two other times—both years ago.  Each time, I wanted to die.  This case was no different.  I swore her to secrecy but then realized this was too good of a story to pass by.  The big question is how in the world do you end up where you don’t belong?  That’s a great question.  In my case the signage just wasn’t clear, and I was tired, and I just wasn’t paying attention.  Put those three together and know that social disaster is right around the corner.

Maybe you have never gone in the wrong restroom, but perhaps you’ve headed the wrong way on a one-way street. It’s frightening when you’re seeing headlights and you’re supposed to be seeing taillights. It is one thing when we accidentally go in the wrong direction, but too many times we find ourselves in the wrong place—by choice.  The wrong movie, the wrong relationship, the wrong side of the law, or more importantly, on the wrong side of God’s Word.  Truth be known it happens way too often.  And it usually happens when we get tired, or busy, or sloppy, in our faith.  In my case there really were no consequences besides my being incredibly embarrassed, but that is not always the case.  Too often our sloppiness ends up in broken lives, broken marriages, and broken hearts.

The Bible has a lot to say about wisdom and staying on the right path. It says, “We must pay more careful attention, therefore, to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away.”  If I had been paying careful attention, I would have noticed that the sign was intended for the other door…not the one I took.  If I hadn’t been sloppy, I could have passed on a very embarrassing moment. Well, they say that hindsight is 20/20.  So, what about it?  Are we willing to watch where we go and where we step?  I think you will find that it is just the wise thing to do.  And, by the way, when we do mess up, well, it’s good to know that His grace really is sufficient and to know that always, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Thanksgiving

Bring on the Gravy

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that He lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding.” Ephesians 1:7-8

It just makes good things better!  Just imagine…Thanksgiving is right around the corner. For most it will be a time together with family and friends— to rejoice and remember.  I know from this side of the fence the Taylor cooks are off the scale good.  Our menu, especially the one that lists the side dishes, is almost set in stone.  Homemade (is there any other) mac and cheese, sweet potato casserole, strawberry pretzel salad and other salads that makes you like salads, Apple pie…well you get the idea.  There is one thing that deserves more recognition at our Thanksgiving table and that is the gravy.

Now I am a Southern boy and gravy has always been a big part of my eating life.  Momma would regularly make both brown and white gravies for our supper and they were incredible.  I remember one time I was reminded that you can have too much of a good thing.  When she cooked a roast I loved to take two slices (one wouldn’t do) of bread and then smother, no drown, the bread in gravy.  Well, one time it got me.  I guess all the goodness in the gravy was too much and I got sick, real sick to my stomach.  It wasn’t pretty.

Momma also made a great giblet gravy at Thanksgiving.  She would take all those things that are tucked inside the turkey when you buy it, cut them up in tiny pieces and put them in her gravy.  Yup…it was incredible.  That’s when I began to learn the value of gravy.  It could take the driest dressing (never my Momma’s mind you) and make it the best dressing in the world.  It worked even better on leftovers.  You go back later that afternoon, fill your plate for round two of the feast, warm up the gravy and let her fly.  The dressing, the potatoes and the turkey all were reborn with a little gravy.

Gravy also can play the role of redeemer with biscuits.  Now even the best biscuits almost always need a little help to become great.  It might be a smothering of butter or butter and syrup and good becomes great.  By far the best soul mate of a biscuit is a flood of good sausage gravy.  On my goodness—that combination is its own food group.  Any good restaurant that serves breakfast is always sure to include that in its offerings. The bottom line is that gravy makes things better.

I know something else that does the same thing—even more so.  That is grace.  Grace is when we choose to extend something good to someone they really don’t deserve.  It might be an act of kindness, a measure of forgiveness or a kind word or two. As a pastor I know people have extended a measure of grace when they commented on some of my sermons.  “Best sermon this year, preacher!”  Well, truth be known it wasn’t that good—they were just being graceful.

Now hear this.  Just like a good gravy can make ordinary or less than extraordinary food taste incredible—grace can do the same thing for life.  Families are stronger, relationships are better, teams at work are more productive when grace is poured all over them.  You probably can remember how political opinions and COVID fractured relationships like crazy.  It divided families, friends and, yes, churches. Looking back, I know we needed to pour some gravy—some grace—all over it.

If you are a Jesus follower then you should be a grace expert.  You know that God extended that grace, His unmerited favor, to you and forgave all your failures, sins, and warts.  If you understand redemption right you know you didn’t deserve it—He just did it because of His love for broken people.  Grace makes the impossible possible.  Grace, like a good gravy, can redeem the worse and restore the driest.  God talks a whole lot about grace in His Book.  I encourage you to Google it and be amazed at grace—God’s grace.  It is so amazing they even wrote a song about.  Perhaps you’ve heard it—Amazing Grace.

Sometimes when I order at a restaurant, I will order my gravy on the side. Let’s be honest—not every place can make good gravy.  But when it comes to God’s grace don’t ever get it on the side.  Just ask God to pour it on heavy—flood the plate of your life. The Book says that through faith in Jesus we have redemption through His death on the cross.  When we believe that God forgives our sins through His grace that He lavishes on us…. wow bring on the gravy…bring on the grace. So, if your life is like a dry biscuit take a break and ask God to pour on the grace.  And if you are overwhelmed by circumstances that have left you like a 3:00 pm pile of dry turkey, ask God to pour on grace and you will soon be revived because…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, Halloween, life, love, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

Trick or True?

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

[He] does not stand in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he tells a lie, he speaks from his own nature, because he is a liar and the father of lies.” John 8:44b

In those days it was one of my favorite holidays.  Things change…we all get that but back in the day, Halloween was fun, it was candy profitable and we loved it.  There were church parties where we all dressed up in costumes.  And those costumes weren’t bought in a store…they were made from wherever was handy.  We would have hotdogs and chips and there was always a contest for the best costume.  Come trick or treat night we would again don our costumes. Mine was invariably a hobo—I just went to dad’s closet and boom—I was ready to go.

One of my favorite things was going to Momma’s cedar chest.  It was a magical place where so many cool things were stored.  It was filled with once-a-year delights and special treasures.  One time my daddy had to make a trip of Ecuador for work.  He was a mechanic at the Navy base and one of their planes broke down in South America. He was selected to make the trip and trust me—it was the trip of a lifetime for him.  He bought everyone souvenirs and mine was a poncho and a short bullwhip.  They were stored in the cedar chest for safe keeping.

But there was something else in the cedar chest—our trick or treat bags.  Momma had made one for each of us out of cloth scraps and in my mind’s eye I can still see them.  At the right time, Momma would open the cedar chest and get them out for the special night. Now these are different days but back then as soon as it began to get dusky, we would hit the streets of our neighborhood.  It was a wonderful time of innocence—no danger, no dark tricks…we were safe and free, and we would run the streets until the porch lights were all out and our bags were full. 

Things are tragically different now.  The meaning has changed, the danger is real and well, it’s just not the same.  When our daughters were small enough to trick or treat it was still safe, but we would never think of letting them go out by themselves and now, today, certainly not the grandkids. I wish they could have known the Halloween I knew but alas it is gone.  Things do in fact change.

Sadly, there is something that hasn’t changed.  The trick part of trick or treat.  Back when I was, oh, ten or so, we might, maybe take a bar of soap and soap a window or two—but even that was rare and brought a twinge of guilt. But those memories are not what I am thinking about.  I am talking about the ultimate, most evil trickster—the devil himself.  If you know anything about him you know he is a great deceiver and he loves to lead, or drag, people down a dark path of regret and consequences.  It’s who he is and it is something he was done since the beginning of time.  Just ask Eve and Adam. He promises the best treat—which is a lie—and never tells the rest of the story—the trick. Like he told Eve, “Go ahead and have a bite—you won’t die.”  Well, we know how that turned out.

Well, I know Halloween is still a few days off, but the big truth is for every day.  Never, ever, trust what Satan offers.  Jesus said he is a liar and the father of it and trust me—Jesus always tells the truth. What Jesus offers—love, forgiveness, grace, and peace—are all real and all can be ours for the asking.  He is the treat of a lifetime—with no small print and no tricks.  You can believe it—He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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