Category: food

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, prayer, pride, Scripture, thankful, Trials, wisdom

The Stain Remains

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

So if your eye—even your good eye—causes you to lust, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.” Matthew 5:29

Despite my best efforts…it happened.  This isn’t a story about one event…or two…or even three.  It is a story about a reoccurring thing in my life…and probably in yours.  So, imagine with me.  You are having dinner, and it is one of your favorites—spaghetti! You have on a favorite shirt or blouse, and it is one of your favorite colors.  So, something tells you that you should change shirts, but you don’t. Instead, you decide it is too much trouble, so you make a conscious decision to be careful and it works—till it doesn’t.

You are careful not to slurp the noodles, you are careful to lean over your plate but alas you look down and there, on your favorite shirt you see several freckles of reddish orange. The dreaded spaghetti sauce has somehow found its way not to your mouth but to your shirt. Bummer.  You jump from the table and immediately head to the kitchen sink and arm yourself with a damp dishcloth and some Dawn dishwashing soap. After all, everyone knows from the television commercials that Dawn can do anything…even save the life of a small duckling.

You carefully begin to rub the spots and slowly they get lighter and lighter—until they don’t. On no, despite your best efforts, your favorite shirt now has some permanent light reddish-orange freckles.  The sauce is gone but it has left a cotton-picking stain, and no amount of scrubbing or rubbing is going to change the outcome. No amount of regret for not changing the shirt before you started dinner is going to change this.  The stain remains.

And do you know what?  What is true about shirts and spaghetti is true about us and our lives.  You know what I mean—we are faced with a choice, and we choose poorly.  We say we are sorry, both to God and whoever else it impacts, but the stain remains.  We say something to someone, the kind of words that are better left unspoken, and we watch as the hurt spreads across their face. We apologize but they know, and you know that while forgiveness is granted, the stain will remain.

If we are wise, and let’s be honest, sometimes we are not, we would do well to think before we speak.  We would be wise enough to take whatever action necessary to avoid the whole mess—and the stain that will remain.  They say an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure and that is so, so true.  Jesus said, “So if your eye—even your good eye—causes you to lust, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.” Yeah, I know, drastic right?  But remember this is spoken by Someone who understood the seriousness of sin—who would later die on a cross to pay for yours…and mine.

So, the next time you are sitting down for a nice spaghetti dinner, remember this plate of Grits and change your shirt.  Oh, and the next time you are about to make a bad choice remember that the stain, the consequences, will remain.  The good news is if you still splatter the shirt of your life, His grace is gonna be sufficient.  He’s got this. 

Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

The Bloat Load

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace, which He lavished upon us.” Ephesians 1:8

More is better.  I know, I know…that is a flawed philosophy because sometimes more is just more but often…more is better.  I am a foodie.  I like food and food likes me.  To me food is more than nourishment…food is like a warm blanket on a cold night and because of that I sometimes ask for…more.  When my wife Judy and I were much younger for a special treat we would go to Shoney’s for supper. It didn’t happen often, not because we didn’t like it but because our very limited budget said no. On an even rarer occasion we would get desert…either strawberry pie or chocolate ice cream cake.  When the choice was the latter, I would ask the server to “smother” it with extra hot fudge and usually, they would.  The cake would come baptized in hot fudge. Can someone say, “Amen?”

More can indeed be better.  I’ve never been too shy about asking for more.  One time I was at our local restaurant. We were and are regulars there and whenever I ordered something that had french fries, I would ask them to be sure and add a few extra.  I know, my Momma surely taught me better and Judy was mortified but I did it and it worked.  My plate would come and sure enough…there were french fries enough to feed half the kids in Africa.  I would then douse them with ketchup and well, it was good.  More can be better.

On one visit I decided to change my approach, so I asked the server for a “boat load” of french fries.  I wasn’t sure how much a “boat load” was but I was sure it was more and yes; more can be better.  Well, it worked and once again my BBQ sandwich was accompanied with what had to be a five-pound bag of french fries. As we finished our meal, our server brought our ticket by.  Now, I’m one of those people who don’t normally even look at the ticket…I just assume it is right.  But this day I did…and I was glad.

No, the amount wasn’t wrong but what she wrote was hilarious.  She was probably not familiar with my southern humor or word pictures because she didn’t write “boat load,” she had written, wait for it, “bloat load.”  Even now as I write this a smile creeps across my face because it was both accurate and funny.  I am sure by the time I finished off the enormous pile of fried potatoes, I was most certainly, “bloated.”  Wrong word—right message!  And yes, sometimes more is better.

I know that is true with God.  In my Jesus journey, I have discovered that He is a “bloat load” God.  Mercy…bloat load. Kindness…bloat load. Love…bloat load. Patience…bloat load. Grace…mega bloat load.  In fact, I like the way Paul, one of the big players in the New Testament part of the Bible put it.  He said, “In Him [that’s Jesus] we have redemption [that’s rescue from our hot mess sin] through His blood [that’s the cross], the forgiveness [that means charges dropped] of our trespasses, according to the riches [that means a lot] of His grace, which He lavished [that means “bloat load”] upon us.” Wow. Now that is good news.

I thought it was always cool when the server accommodated my “more is better” request.  At the minimum they didn’t scorn me and at the most…well I received more and as you know…more can be better.  But nothing matches God.  The only place that God is a little stingy is in the wrath department.  Oh, He is just, and He is holy, but His preference is that each of us, all of us, come to Him and receive His grace.  After all, He did say He loved the whole world and after all He sent His Son to die for that world on a Roman cross.  Can someone say, “bloat load?”

So, more can be better…especially if it involves hot fudge and french fries.  Oh, and more is always better when it involves the mercy, kindness, love, patience, and grace of my Dearest Father.  He wants you to be able to call Him Father also…just ask and He will lavish His great grace all over you and call you His own.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, food, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, school days, Scripture, Southern born, travel, Trials

Self-Made Messes

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

For the mountains may move and the hills disappear, but even then, My faithful love for you will remain. My covenant of blessing will never be broken,” says the Lord, who has mercy on you.” Isaiah 54:10

We were somewhere in Texas.  It was probably in the early sixties, somewhere around 1962 or three.  We were on vacation, which meant we were going to see my brother who lived in Texas. We are driving in our 1957 Plymouth, no air conditioning with Momma and Daddy up front and the “three little ones” spanning and filling the backseat.  It was very early in the morning and best I can remember we had driven all night—probably to save time and probably to save the cost of a hotel.  Well, in the very early morning, right when the darkness is fleeing, Leslie told Alston that we should stop and eat breakfast. So…we did.

It was a “mom and pop” place. Places like McDonald’s and the like didn’t exist and if they did, they were rare.  However, this was a roadside diner and for the Taylor tribe it was a treat.  Momma turned around and stirred us into some sort of consciousness as Daddy pulled into the parking lot.  We were soon settled into a large booth and breakfast was ordered.  I was going to write how I had the traditional breakfast of eggs and bacon, but I think I remember that Momma had given me a choice and I chose pancakes.

Soon our food came and still a bit sleepy, I drowned the pancakes in sweet, sticky syrup. And it was right about then it happened.  In my mostly still asleep state, I tried to cut the pancakes with my fork when quickly and promptly the whole plate fell in my lap.  Pancakes and syrup filled my lap…and I began to cry.  It really wasn’t as much about the loss of the pancakes, as it was about the loss of my dignity. Even at that young age I knew I had made a big mess and it felt like every person in the restaurant was looking at the kid who had messed up.

Of course, that wasn’t true.  The ones in the booth knew and I can’t remember their response.  The other two little ones, my sisters, weren’t known for being generous with kindness so I, and perhaps unfairly, assumed they had something to say about their baby brother.  And Daddy, well, he probably was like a lot of other Daddy’s and wondered what happened, how it happened and most of all, why it happened.  But then there was Momma.  As I remember, there were no words of condemnation for this mess I had made but rather a helping hand to begin cleaning up the mess. It seems I remember kindness when I deserved a “shaking down.” In other words, it seems she showed grace when I deserved none. It seems she showed mercy when I didn’t deserve that either.

Looking back, that seems like one of those times when Momma was a whole lot like God. Her child had made a mess and rather than judge she extended kindness. Now to be fair, Momma’s don’t always get it right…and neither do we. But that time…she did.  And guess what? We have a Dearest Daddy, who gets it right every time.  When we make a mess, He doesn’t chasten or belittle…no, He loves and gently helps us clean up the mess…a mess of our own making.  So today or tomorrow when you find yourself with a lap full of pancakes and sticky syrup, just remember the Father sitting by you is waiting to help.  You can rest assured that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, thankful

My Friend Charlie

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength. Proverbs 17:22

Say “Charlie” and some people think “Brown” but not me. I have a friend named Charlie, and he made life fun. Over the years, I’ve encountered a kaleidoscope of people, each contributing to life’s vibrant display. As I reminisce about this, my memories often drift back to Charlie.

Our paths crossed when I became the pastor of Cobden First Baptist Church in Southern Illinois. Those 14 years in Cobden were an incredible chapter of our lives, and leaving was no easy feat. The relationships and friendships we built there, especially among the families raising kids, created a vibrant and enjoyable community. If church is about fostering community, we certainly had it. Imperfect but deeply connected, we loved our way through the bumps.

Charlie and I hit it off from the start. One of our initial adventures involved him giving me a tour of the community, highlighting where different members lived and, more importantly, where people who hadn’t encountered Jesus resided. Charlie had a heart for both Jesus and people. Our families bonded quickly, and naturally, food became a significant part of our friendship. Charlie and his wife Cheryl welcomed us with a Dixie BBQ supper, instantly making it a cherished spot. Thank you, Charlie, and Cheryl, for that warm welcome.

Charlie was a practical joker extraordinaire. At a deacons’ Christmas party, held in an old mansion by the Ohio River, we expressly requested the bar to remain closed. However, during the festivities, our server presented me with an ice-cold Budweiser. Charlie had orchestrated the prank, and laughter ensued.

On another occasion, Charlie decided to up the ante. During a sermon, as I prayed with heads bowed, I opened my eyes to find the congregation holding up newspapers, obscuring their faces. Instead of friendly faces, I saw last week’s headlines. It was a hilarious moment that left us laughing until it hurt.

But there was a time when Charlie pushed the boundaries. During a post-church fellowship, he pied me in the face with a large vanilla cream pie. While I found it amusing, not everyone did—especially Charlie’s mom, Veda, who thought it was disrespectful. It took a while for Charlie to get out of the doghouse, but at least we salvaged some of the pie.

Those were just a few snapshots of the precious memories I share with Charlie. His smiling face is etched in my mind, a reminder of the joy he brought to those Cobden years. People like him made church feel like a community, filled with laughter and shared moments. I believe church should be fun, and Jesus, despite our challenges in picturing it, must have smiled and laughed. How could one brim with so much joy and not express it?

Yes, there’s a time to be serious, but there’s also a time to laugh, and we should embrace both. A sour expression doesn’t equate to spirituality; it might just mean you’re a tad sour. Proverbs 17:22 wisely notes, “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength.” So, when things go wacky and life gets crossways, let’s not forget to laugh. Always be grateful for a God with a sense of humor—after all, He created you and me. Smile, and remember, no matter what—He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, school days, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, wisdom

Dinner on the Grounds

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

There’s lunch and then there is dinner on the grounds.  Church and I were a good fit from the get-go.  The schools I attended were always large and it was easy for someone to get lost in the crowd.  The bottom line seemed to be you had to be either really good or really bad to get recognized.  If you were really good at sports, for example, then a lot of people knew your name.  If you were really bad at life, well people knew your name, but it was the wrong people.  You might remember the categories in your yearbook that named people to be the most likely to do something.  Some were just destined not to be remembered. That was probably me.

I was one of those guys who just wandered around in the gray social midst at school but not so at church.  The churches I attended were like the three bears and their beds. One was too big; one was too small, and one was just right.  They were big enough to have fun, and I suppose learn a little about Jesus, and yet not too big.  I managed to be accepted by my peers and even the adults thought I was cool. So church was a good fit but that isn’t the main reason why I liked it.  I was grateful for the social acceptability, and I even appreciated the Bible stories and learning about Jesus, but in those days, I was in it for…the food.

You see, several times a year we would have meals at church. There were two things that you could count on.  First, they were always potlucks.  Now, in case you don’t know what a potluck dinner is, first, where have you been?  No seriously, a potluck is when everyone brings something for dinner.  It is one of the greatest inventions in the food world.  Imagine the world’s best buffet—meats, casseroles, vegetables, breads, starches, and the motherlode of all motherlodes—dessert. I can still remember there being tables—as in more than one—of nothing but desserts.  It was like food heaven. We still do this every once in a while, at our church so if you ever hear of this happening, even if you don’t like God, you need to come to church that Sunday.  One word says it all—cowabunga! If you need more than one word—here’s three “shoot that thing.”

The second thing that was just cool was in the old days’ churches would build permanent tables outside to hold all this food.  Often, they would have a tin roof over them.  You could line up on both sides and let her rip.  We always had those big plates, and you were obligated to fill them up.  Then, you would just go find yourself a place in the grass and sit down and eat…and eat…and eat.  It truly was one of my favorite times at church.  The food and the fellowship (being with all the people) was just amazing.  We have a ministry at our church where if a member of a family dies, we provide lunch for them on the day of the funeral. It is like a mini potluck and our ladies do such a wonderful job.  I’ve already asked them if I can have my dinner before I go so I can enjoy the meal.  I’m still working on that one.

You see, there are lots of reasons to attend church and like I said in my early years’ food was a good reason.  I have another reason now too. I’m the pastor.  It’s kinda expected that I will attend. But here’s the truth.  I don’t go now for the food…I go because I want to go. Yup…I don’t have to go to church, I get to go to church.  It is so good because some of the people I love the most are there.  And guess what? Some of the people that are a little harder to love are there too but that doesn’t matter because we have one thing in common—we all are pretty fond of God.

But wait, it gets better.  Guess what?  He is really fond of us.  He loved and loves everyone so much that He sent His Son to earth—we call that Christmas.  He also loved and loves everyone so much that He allowed Him to die on a Roman cross—we call that Good Friday.  It was bad for Him that day, but it was good for us because that day He paid the price for all the things all of us have done that offend His Father.  But wait…that isn’t the end.  After three days, He came back to life—we call that Easter, and it is a documented fact that it happened.  Pretty amazing.

Well, I am grateful for all the good food and other things that happen at church.  But I am so grateful for God, my Dearest Daddy, loving me that much and remember, He loves you that much too.  If you want to know more, I hope you will get a copy of His Book the Bible—it’s been a best seller for centuries—really.  Something I have learned is that it is a great idea to have God on your side.  It’s just good to know that He is there and will be there no matter what.  No, He isn’t Santa Claus just waiting to give you everything on your list.  No, He isn’t a Genie just waiting for you to rub His lamp.  He is God, He is real, and He wants to make a difference in your world.  Why not give Him a try?  You’ll find that no matter what you face, He will face it with you. I’ve learned that every day, no matter what, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Military memories, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials, USA

Three Days and a Wake Up

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

When the Lord brought back the captivity of Zion, we were like those who dream. Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing.” Psalm 126:1-2a

We were finally coming home.  From August 1977 to August 1980, we lived in Germany while serving in the United States Air Force.  Our time there was incredible.  We saw windmills in Holland, the alps of Switzerland, the famous horse-fountain in Salzburg, and ate real pizza in Italy.  Where we lived was much like living in the middle of the Shawnee Forest—large rolling hills and lush green forest, but with more snow.  We loved it.

Some hard times happened while we were there too.  Those were the days of no internet, no cell phone, and no overnight delivery from Amazon prime.  Landline phone calls were rare and expensive and snail mail was all there was.  I remember Judy receiving a letter that opened, “I guess you heard about your dad’s heart attack.” Turns out right after we left for Germany, he had a massive heart attack and almost died.  Another night in our second year at about midnight or so, a knock came at our apartment door.  It was an officer from my squadron.  He said I needed to call the Red Cross immediately.  My mother was dying.  They connected me to my sister-in-law in Florida.  Her words were simple and direct, “If you want to see your Momma alive you have to come now.”  We made it home the day before she died.

So, our time in Germany was divine but difficult.  The bottom line is at the end of three years we were more than ready to come home.  As the time neared and preparations were underway for our leaving and returning, we started counting down.  Everyone did. We would say, “25 days and a wake up. 13 days and a wake up. Three days and a wake up.” Finally, we woke up, got on a plane, and came home.  There was no place like home. There is no place like home.

I can remember picking our VW van at the airport (we had shipped it home) and driving.  It was marvelous.  We could read the signs and we could understand the people.  Instead of four dollars for a gallon of gas it was 69 cents.  I stopped at a market and got a fried apple pie.  I can still almost taste it.  For lunch we stopped at McDonald’s.  No big deal, right?  Not at all unless you had spent the last three years explaining a cheeseburger and fries to someone who didn’t speak English.  And, instead of a few dollars you paid almost twenty.  As I ordered at the counter, speaking English, and being understood…I wept. I apologized to the young lady and explained we had been away for three years.  And I explained…there is no place like home.

Then many years later, all too well, I remember those ten weeks when we were on Covid shutdown in our town. Finally, after too many weeks away, our church family had the opportunity to come home.  The long-awaited Sunday arrived, and we gathered as a corporate body to sing, pray and preach.  What did we learn?  Well one thing is for sure—there is no place like home.  My time in Germany taught me several things and one of them is you appreciate the simple things.  A fried apple pie and a McDonald’s cheeseburger never tasted so good.  My family never looked so good.  Driving on the roads of America never felt so good.  Reading the billboards never seemed so interesting.  By the way, did they ever find out who shot J.R.?  Smile. Somethings were different but it was still…home.

Like those things, going back to church was like coming home and I was almost giddy. When the Israelites realized they were coming home after 70 years in Babylon they were just a little more than giddy.  Here’s what one of their songwriters wrote, “When the Lord brought back the captivity of Zion, we were like those who dream. Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing.” In those words, you can almost feel their excitement. Things were going to be different when they got there but that didn’t matter.  They were going home.

This weekend, and every weekend after, when you walk into your place of worship remember how it felt that day to come home. Remember that and the small things that bug you probably won’t. When “Bob” irritates you at church, just pause and remember how good it was to be with others that first time back.  When the sermon seems too long, and the music too loud and the room too warm…yup…just remember how good it was…how good it is, to be home.  And, when something fearful pops up or something rubs you wrong…just remember the time He brought you home, when you rested in Him, when you realized He’s got this.  And dream. And sing. Be like the ones who knew the Lord turned our captivity. Because He has.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, food, friends, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, thankful

Chocolate Delight

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” Psalm 37:4

It is rapidly becoming one of my favorite desserts.  Recently we had our annual deacon’s fellowship on Sunday evening.  While I was ordained a deacon a long time ago, I wasn’t there in that capacity. I was there because I have the privilege of working alongside this great group of men as the pastor of our church.  Our fellowship consists of a load of storytelling, some bordering on stretching the truth like a good fishing story, and of course a boatload of good food. Among that food was a smaller boatload of food called “desserts” and among those was something called chocolate delight. Mmmm.

What is chocolate delight, you ask?  Well, it is a layered masterpiece that starts with a crust (of some sort—and I’ve never had a bad one). That is followed by two more layers of heaven, and I’ve seen them interchanged—cream cheese, whipped and sweetened (someone say hallelujah) and a layer of chocolate pudding.  Then, there is an additional layer of cool whip or whipped cream and finally some sprinkling, like grated chocolate.  It is so cool, so light and oh so yummy.

Then, on the Wednesday after Sunday, we had a big fellowship at our church. It is called, “Extreme Christmas” and it consists of a wonderful meal and then some great homestyle entertainment—all provided by the church family. I love it because it reminds me of days gone by when the heart was more important than perfection. Well, before the show was the meal and there were three long tables of desserts—each one from someone’s kitchen and let me just tell you we have some fine kitchens and cooks in our church.  And there it was—not one but a couple of dishes of chocolate delight and they were delightful.

Now let me tell you another thing I like about this dessert. The flavor can be changed by simply changing one of the layers. You know, lemon instead of chocolate, butterscotch instead of lemon or maybe strawberry instead of butterscotch. It turns out the flavor of the delight can be changed anytime, and different flavors favor different people.  The beauty of this is you can choose your delight. Choose.Your.Delight!

What’s true in desserts is also true in life.  We can choose what delights our lives, our souls. I was reading a devotion today and the writer used one of my favorite verses.  Tucked away in the Old Testament part of the Bible in Psalms, it says, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” In other words, just like the chocolate flavors the dessert, let the flavor of your life be the Lord and trust me, when He is the flavor of your life, life will be sweeter.

When the verse says He will give you the desires of your heart, that doesn’t mean you have a blank check.  It does mean that when the Lord becomes our delight then His desires become our desires and His desires are always, always, best for us. So let me encourage you to find your delight in the Lord and I think you will find that He is better than the best dessert you have ever tasted. You will find out that His, “I’ve got this” is exactly what you needed.  Bro. Dewayne

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

Southern Cuisine–the Real Deal

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

He says, “I am the Lord, and there is no other.” Isaiah 45:18b

I discovered the difference between the real deal and everything else.  My wife Judy and I traveled south to see family.  Since I am still working, she is usually our representative to our southern family.  She would make the circuit, sitting and talking and visiting, all of which is right up her alley.  But this time…things were different.  I decided it was time for me to make time to see my family and I am so glad that I did.  I was reminded of the value of family and in the process rediscovered the value of good southern cooking. We stayed with two of my sisters and then with one of Judy’s nephews and his wife.  At each place, queens of southern delights strutted their stuff, but it all came together one beautiful Thursday evening.

First, in Valdosta where she is from and where a bunch of her family lives, there is a family of restaurants that are excellent for two reasons.  First, they are all buffets and second, they all specialize in southern cooking.  The buffet is a spread of everything southern…fried chicken, ribs (both fried and smoked), fish, pork chops, chicken gizzards and livers, pot roast and the list goes on and on.  Then comes the vegetables…field peas, lima beans, baby lima beans, black-eyed peas, collard and turnip greens, cream corn, grits and…well, you get the idea.  Judy and I enjoyed it so much we went twice.

Well, that was all good but then came Thursday night.  Her family decided to have a mini family reunion of sorts.  Now just like my family, her family is blessed with many queens of southern cuisine.  I admit I just couldn’t wait to taste what was going to be brought.  About thirty relatives showed up and each family brought several dishes. Now imagine with me.  Take the list above and double it and you will have a fair idea of how much food was there.  Now, take what we had at the restaurant, which was very good, and give it a multiplication factor of at least two and maybe three and you begin to understand the Allen family feast.  It was beyond delicious—and not just a dish here or there but every dish.  I won’t even try to describe the deserts.  Wonderful southern food with a wonderful southern family and well, I sure was glad I didn’t miss it.

I did learn something through my southern food experience.  You see, I was very content with the restaurant version of southern heaven until I tasted the real deal and suddenly, I was reminded of the difference.  The real thing made in someone’s kitchen with loving hands and hearts made the restaurant version somewhat of a cheap imitation. Oh, it was good till I had the real thing and then there was no comparison. The real thing trumps anything else every time.

That truth is worth remembering.  There are a lot of imitations out there in the world and they will try and make you discontent with the real thing.  They will try and steal your heart out of a good marriage or make you discontent and leave relationships that have satisfied for years. Like so many of the commercials today, they wave their plastic happiness and try to convince you that their “something” is better.  Don’t believe it—the real deal is better than a plastic substitution no matter how good it looks.  And by the way, that is definitely true when it comes to religion and God.  Don’t ever be tempted to trade the practice of religion for a God who loves you so much He gave His Son to die for you. Like He said in His Book, “I am the Lord, there is no other.”

I am grateful for my trip south, and I am grateful for the opportunity to learn once again about the importance of what is real and what is second place.  Never be satisfied with something else when you can have what is real and never trade what is first for what is second.  It is always a bad deal.

So, if you are blessed to have some southern relatives and you visit with them, make sure to sit-down with them for supper.  Chances are you will discover your own spread of southern delights.  And remember to be content and grateful for the spread that God has set before you.  He is a good, good Father and, unlike religion, He loves you so, so much and no matter what, you know, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, friends, gratitude, Holidays, life, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Thanksgiving

Leftovers

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead.” Philippians 3:13

One of the best things about Thanksgiving doesn’t happen on Thanksgiving.  Well, let’s be honest, for most of us blessed to live here in America it is a day to throw the diet out the window, to loosen the belt a notch, to forget trying to bend over.  It is the day after the feast. I know for the Taylor tribe we have perfected the feast to a fine art.  Each year there are certain items that just must be on the table.  There is the most incredible mac-n-cheese in the world, a sweet potato soufflé, oh, and strawberry pretzel salad. And that is the short list.  There is also green bean casserole, rolls, some sort of salad and, well, you get the idea.  Even a sampling of the feast will cause your belt to shrink a notch or two.  Thanksgiving food…you gotta love it.

But here is the best part.  Eventually, perhaps hours, but maybe the next day, there will be a hint of hunger.  As full as you feel after the feast, you will get hungry again and that’s when it happens.  You can go to the refrigerator and start unloading the leftovers. All that joy from the Thanksgiving feast is reborn right before your eyes.  And the amazing part is that some of the dishes taste even better than the first time.  A couple of minutes in the microwave will have you smiling just like the day before.  And the hits just keep on coming because some, not all mind you, but some will make it for day two.

And then there is the turkey.  Mr. Turkey must be related to the cat because it seems to have nine or more lives.  After the initial onslaught of Thanksgiving and the day after, there always seems to be more turkey. What should we do?  Well, some might be given a quick trip to the freezer, but some will be reborn in a myriad of creative and tasty recipes.  Who knows the multitude of ways Mr. Turkey can be reborn in the days following Thanksgiving?  You see, in some ways, Thanksgiving is the holiday that just keeps on giving.  Just ask your waistline.

I realize that some folks aren’t fans of leftovers.  I knew one guy who simply refused to eat them and of course that is every person’s choice. But as for me, I say bring them on.  Whether it is a Thanksgiving feast or a leftover burger from some fast-food place, it is all waiting for a second chance to satisfy that hunger pain.  Now to be fair, sometimes those leftovers are better left alone.  What might have been a crunchy delight one day can be a soggy mess the next, so you must choose your leftovers carefully.  Sometimes, it’s better to let that tasty dish go on the first go around.

Do you suppose that is true in life too?  You know, our choices and actions can be like those leftovers.  Some choices are worth savoring for days, weeks, and months or maybe even a lifetime.  Trusting Jesus…now that was a good decision that will last forever.  Marrying my wife Judy…check.  Forty-seven years later and I’m still humming, “We’ve Only Just Begun.”  Having kids? That’s a good one too though there have been times in their teen years when I pondered checking the return policy.  The truth is all of us, if we look, will discover there are some great leftovers that spill joy into our lives every day.

Truthfully, and painfully, there are some leftovers that still cause our hearts to hurt.  A broken relationship left unattended, a harsh word spoken and left hanging without an apology, poor health decisions…yes, there are painful leftovers in every person’s life. While we can’t just make them disappear like fog burning off in the morning, we can do what we can do and that is to seek and receive forgiveness.  First, let it start with God.  Let Him know how you regret and repent or turn from whatever it was.  Then, if an apology is due, give it.  Even if the person is no longer around, you can apologize.  Maybe write a letter and then burn it.  And lastly, we need to forgive ourselves and that, by the way, might be the most difficult thing to do.  And then, take the sad leftovers and take them to the trash…where they belong.

I love what Paul the Bible writer said.  He said we should forget the past and look forward.  He wasn’t saying we should forget because that probably isn’t possible.  He was saying we should not allow a past that is forgiven to own us in the present. Quit giving those thoughts space in your brain. He was saying we need to get rid of those old, rotten leftovers and that is something we can do. So, savor the good and ditch the regretful. Sounds difficult? That’s ok because there is a Dearest Father who will help you.  In fact, listen carefully, even now He is whispering, “I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Thanks-Giving Living

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Ephesians 5:20

Everything seemed bigger then.  I liked being a kid.  I know there were times I didn’t, but overall things were pretty cool.  For one thing, there were fewer responsibilities.  There was always someone bigger and more important than me to handle things.  I didn’t worry about where the food came from, who was going to pay the electric bill or what would happen if the wrong person got elected and lived in something called the White House.  My house happened to be white, so my world centered around that white house. Of course, there were only three channels to tell me about the world outside my small world so, yeah, l liked being a kid.

When I was a kid, the holidays were just a big thing and the two at the top of the list were Thanksgiving and Christmas. These were the mammoths of all holidays.  Thanksgiving, of course, came first and was like the kickoff for the Christmas season. Thanksgiving meant that it was ok to start doing Christmas stuff.  Now days that has been assigned to the Fourth of July. Smile.  But anyway, these two special days shared two things that made them special.  They were all about family and they were all about food. Family and food.  They were big then and they are big now.

Of course, big was relative…not relative like my grandmother or my Uncle Hardy…but relative in the sense of perspective.  You see, as a kid, everything was bigger.  A while back I went back to where I was raised. The house, though slightly remodeled, was still there and about the same.  But when I saw it that day, I remember thinking how small it seemed.  I mean it was never big, but it certainly seemed bigger.  The difference wasn’t the house but how I saw it.  Enter Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving was so exciting because it meant that anyone who was related to the Taylor tribe was going to be somewhere together.  Most often it was home…the white house on the corner of Carlton and Wheat. It was a big deal because we had quite a big tribe.  Momma and Daddy had eight kids and they probably would have had more but I think they finally figured out what was causing it.

And then…there was the food.  Momma would cook the biggest turkey we could find…usually right around twenty-five pounds.  There would be dressing, plain and oyster, giblet gravy, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, ambrosia, and a bunch of other stuff.  There would be several kinds of pies including the infamous “minced meat pie.”  Best I could tell that was a pie for the adults because I think it really had meat and only an adult could like that.  Then after the vast spread was spread, we would all gather around the kitchen (we wouldn’t fit around the table) and someone would pray…usually my oldest brother because he was a lay preacher.  And then…we would eat…a lot.

From my kid perspective it was good, and it was fun.  I probably didn’t think much about what giving thanks was all about.  I mean, my big brother talked about being thankful when he was talking to God in the prayer, but really, I probably didn’t get the whole thanksgiving thing…then.  But now, well, I certainly understand it more.  As I grew up and some of that responsibility that my parents bore fell on me, I began to understand.  When I started to realize that things I took for granted didn’t just happen, that they took hard work and a lot of love, well, I started feeling grateful.  The more I understood, the more I appreciated all that my Momma and Daddy did for me as a kid.  They worried so I didn’t have to. They provided so I could have food to eat, a place to sleep, clothes to wear and a life that was…fun.

So, this week, I’m going to remember and be thankful.  I’m going to do my best not to grumble about what I don’t have and choose to be grateful for what I do. Somewhere this week I will play the role of my big brother and pray, and I will thank God for all the blessings He has given to me and my family.  This week I will celebrate that there is food to eat and family to enjoy…just like when I was a kid.  God is good…always has been, always will be.  Paul, the guy who wrote most of the New Testament Bible said, “Giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” I think he was telling us to be sure and celebrate Thanksgiving, not one day, but every day.  Oh, and when you are thanking God for being God be sure and thank Him because, each day and every day, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne