Category: love

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

My Simple Life

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

So don’t worry about these things, saying, ‘What will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear?’” Matthew 6:31

It was just simpler back then. I got up this morning with a little (or maybe a lot) of coffee, a spot of the Weather Channel, and some Jesus.  Then, I just sat and thought for a while.  On the television was a channel from YouTube that shows live camera feeds from all over the Northeast, and I was just amazed how much it looked like Europe…another time and another place. Then, I thought about my day.  I’m figuring out that each day is His day as He is the maker, the crafter of each one.  I’m also learning that since He owns everything that makes me a steward of the next 24 hours and the events and circumstances He has planned.

Mainly, there is a sermon to polish for Sunday and a funeral to craft for Saturday.  But mainly I’m just waiting to see what is on His mind and honestly, sometimes that is simple and sometimes it is complex.  Regardless, I know it is His plan and it is one that He has determined that will bring good into my life and hopefully some glory to Him.  With all that said, I have to admit there are times that I long for times when things were simpler as in less complex.  While that has happened and surely will happen again, when I was about eight, it was the norm.

When I was eight, I was concerned about very little.  Momma and Daddy were still healthy and every morning there was something for breakfast, something for lunch and something for supper.  There were delicacies like fried potato sandwiches and peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches and if we were short on peanut butter we would just go with the mayonnaise. After breakfast though I would head out to the yard and just do…something.  There were occasional chores like picking up the yard pulling weeds but generally the day was mine. I hadn’t figured the God part out yet.

Because toys, at least the kind you buy at a store, were in short supply, I would go into the junk room—a small room with its own outside entrance and filled with stuff—and see what caught my eye.  There was always something that with a little imagination could become a source of entertainment. First, and one of my favorites, was a piece of chain, usually about six feet long.  You see, our driveway wasn’t paved, that was something rich people had, so it was like a giant sand box.  I found out you could take that piece of chain and drag it behind you, and it became a train. I would watch as the sand flowed in and around the links of the chain leaving a perfect track in the rear.  A chain became a train—imagine that.

In certain times of the year, North Florida—well really the whole state, I guess—was inundated with “love bugs.” They were everywhere and would splat on windshields and clog radiators as cars zoomed down the highway.  They also seemed to love a parked car.  When I would go outside looking for that day’s adventure, they would be all over Daddy’s 1961, light blue, Plymouth station-wagon and whether they knew it or not—they were a target.  I would search the yard and drawers in the kitchen for rubber bands discarded from newspapers, string them together and go hunting.  Stretching them back, I would take aim and one by one pick them off of Daddy’s car.  This could go on for a long while.  I thought I was doing Daddy a favor but turns out the bug’s innards could eat a car’s paint right off. Oops.

While each day was different, each day was simple.  Each day was consistent…little to worry about and an opportunity for fun.  And while that kind of simplicity has long since passed there is another for today.  Today too can be a day with little to worry about and dare I say it, an opportunity for fun.  You see, if you are a Jesus follower, He really wants to take care of the worry part.  In fact, He just flat-out tells us not to worry because if God can take care of the birds…He can take care of us too.  How about that? And the fun part?  Well, that is up to us.  We simply need to learn, to remember what that means and how to do it.  My wife Judy tells me frequently that we need to learn how to celebrate, and she is right, but we also need to relearn how to just have fun.  It probably involves letting go and letting Him so our hands and hearts will be free to be free.

So, what are you worrying about today? What has you bound up like a too tight pair of shoes?  What are you going to do today that is fun?  Now don’t tell me you don’t have time (that is simply a matter of choice) or the money—chain and rubber bands are cheap—smile.  Today, be brave enough to do something different—to make a change. Let it go and let Him.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

My God-Father

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

And I will be your Father, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.” 2 Corinthians 6:18

Well, it was just a thought…but it was a good one.  The other day I was chatting with someone and the topic of having or being a godfather popped into the conversation.  I think the person said they had one or was one…I’m not really sure.  You see, I am a Baptist, and I am pretty sure that is not really a Baptist thing.  I don’t think there is a rule against it, but I do know it is rarely brought up.  I’ve been pastoring for forty years, and I don’t remember it coming up more than a couple of times…not counting the times when we were talking about the movie.

All of this kind of got me thinking about what does a godfather do.  I mean just in case someone asked me to be one, I thought I needed to be ready.  According to dictionary.com, “A godparent is a person who has pledged to help with the upbringing of a child, especially in a religious way. In some denominations of Christianity, when a child is baptized, they are sponsored by (usually two) adults who pledge to help in this way.” Well, there you go.

If you take the definition from dictionary.com, it actually sounds like a pretty good idea. We all know that when our first baby comes along, we discover the little boy or girl doesn’t come with an owner’s manual.  It turns out you are pretty much on your own, so a little help is a great idea.  Someone said, “It take a village to raise a child” and there is a lot of truth in that.  I know that my Momma would have tweaked that just a little—like this boy needs a whole continent.

I didn’t see it in the definition, but I bet somewhere in the godfather thing is the idea that the chosen one must buy some really cool birthday and Christmas gifts.  It just seems logical. Regardless I think this is not something that should be taken on lightly—if you really are going to do the job.

So back to the beginning.  We are chatting about godfathers, and it was one of those times that I thought something and said something that was almost, but not quite profound.  I said, “But who needs a godfather if you can have a Father who is God.”  Now isn’t that almost profound? You see, it is always nice to have some flesh and bones help you along but to have the Creator of the whole show as your Father…that is a horse of a different color.  And, even when godfathers have all the good intentions in the world, they might just come up short—but Creator God never does.

When I think about the fact that God is my Father, that He is never ashamed to call me His, that He loves me and likes me unconditionally—well, that is amazing. And when I think that He will never, ever come up short, that’s when it goes right off the chart.  The Bible says that my God-Father not only knows the cattle on a thousand hills but He owns the hills too.  My God-Father can take on the biggest monsters and win every time.  Oh, and He is never too busy, never too tired, and never changes His mind.  All of that and so much more is what caused me to say, “Who needs a godfather if you can have a Father who is God.”

I guess it is the parents who choose the godfather but when it comes to my God-Father…well He chose me, and He wants to choose you too.  My God-Father plays no favorites and invites anyone and everyone to be a part of His family.  All we must do is believe, to have faith, turn away from our old messed up life and choose to follow Him.  That’s it.  I don’t know about you but I’m glad I can call God, Father, and I’m so glad He calls me, son.  So, if you are looking for a godfather, there are plenty of good choices and just for the record that is a nice thing to do.  But if you are looking for a God-Father, there is only One and He can’t wait to help you do life.  He’s just waiting to let you know that this time and every time “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Taking Care of Family

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

If you help the poor, you are lending to the Lord—and He will repay you!” Proverbs 19:17

I know I didn’t know them…but I felt I did. As a pastor I occasionally receive a call from either a funeral home or a family that has experienced the loss of a loved one and they don’t have a pastor that can help them.  Well, that happened recently.  A mother had died and her sister, on behalf of the family, contacted me.  Could I help them?  I agreed but I had a request.  I try and make every service personal and special and since I didn’t know her or the family, I asked they provide some personal memories of their mom.  Graciously they did, and in so doing they painted a picture.

She and her husband were blessed with five children—a challenge and a blessing. As they sent the comments to the sister and then to me, it became painfully apparent that life had been financially hard.  Their mother had worked at a local manufacturing plant but was constantly being laid off.  When she was, she worked as a cook at one of the local restaurants.  It finally reached the point where the inconsistency of the one job made the other more attractive and she began working all the time at the restaurant.

She appreciated the consistency of the restaurant job, but it made for an even tighter budget at home.  I was moved by the comments of each one of her children.  They were so appreciative for a Momma that did everything possible to provide for them.  They spoke of gratitude for a roof over their heads, food for their stomach, and heat in the winter.  One spoke of the fact that regardless of the fact that Momma and the family were broke, somehow, someway, she made sure there were presents at Christmas and on their birthdays. That meant a lot to me.

At the service I rhetorically asked, “What does success mean?” It was one of those questions that I didn’t expect an answer…but I got one.  Quietly, one of her sons said, “Being comfortably full.” When he said that it moved me…it still moves me.  In a world where it seems everyone one has so much, in this family’s world abundance was a roof, some heat, food for their stomach and on a real good day, being comfortably full.

After hearing from her son, I went on to say that to me success is owning the things that money can’t buy…the things that don’t come from Walmart or some other store.  Success is five kids who at their Momma’s funeral talk about the sacrifices she made, the hard work she did to make sure they had a roof over their head, some heat, and food in their stomachs.  I then read a story paragraph that someone wrote about success.  It said, “What is success? Success is living well, laughing often, and loving much. Success is gaining the respect of those who know us best; finding and living our purpose and leaving our world better than we found it.” I finished that service in deep appreciation of a 72-year-old mother who did that and so much more.  She gave her five kids a home.

I’ve written several times that money was pretty thin when we were growing up, but I am sure we had more than this family and these kids.  I’ve written before how much I appreciated the fact that Momma and Daddy always made Christmas and birthdays happen.  It may have been courtesy of the local finance company, but it happened.  Now I am reminded that there were and are plenty of people where even that would not have been an option but somehow—they make it happen.

So, I’m just writing to say thank-you to someone I never knew—but felt I did.  I want to say thank-you to five grown up now kids who taught me to appreciate even more deeply what my Momma and Daddy did. They too made it happen whether it was a roof over our heads, or fuel oil in our kerosene tank or food on the table.  Let me encourage you to take the opportunity to thank the ones who made it happen in your life—whether it was years ago or yesterday.  Maybe take the time to whisper a prayer of gratitude for those in your family—or maybe even outside your family—that made it happen.

Maybe, just maybe, you can be one that helps make it happen.  Maybe you know someone who could use a little help.  Maybe God has given you a little more so you can share with those who have a little less. Proverbs 19:17 says, “If you help the poor, you are lending to the Lord—and He will repay you!” I like that.  When we share, we are being the hands and feet of Jesus and that is always a good thing.  You may be the one that your Dearest Daddy uses to whisper in someone else’s ear—someone who is struggling to make it happen.  And what is whispering? “I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, travel, Trials

I Can’t Hear You

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

But Peter said, “I don’t have silver or gold, but what I do have, I give you: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, get up and walk!” Acts 3:6 (CSB)

I can’t hear you.  A friend and I were standing on the shores of an island in Lake Victoria, Uganda, East Africa.  He was telling a Jesus story to a man and trying to determine if he knew Jesus.  While he was sharing another man walked up and began to listen.  At the end of the story, we asked a couple of questions.  The first man indicated that he knew this Jesus.  The other did not.  And he couldn’t hear.

Let me explain.  It wasn’t that he had a hearing problem.  His ears were working quite well.  It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand.  Our friend understood English and when we hit a bump our translator would jump in and help.  But he couldn’t hear.  Then he explained the problem.  He said something like, “I can’t hear about this Jesus because my stomach is so hungry.”

Now hunger is not usually a big issue in Uganda.  While the food may not be the best nutritionally it is usually sufficient in quantity.  Our friend was one of the exceptions.  For whatever reason he hadn’t eaten that day or maybe the day before.  The growling of his stomach was blocking his heart from hearing the message.  We tried to explain that while we may hunger here, God had a place in heaven where no one would be hungry. I decided to tell him another story from the Bible.

I told him the story of Peter and John entering the temple.  You can read it in Acts 3:1-10. It goes something like this. There was a crippled man there who made a living begging.  When he saw Peter and John, he thought they could help.  He looked up expectedly and perhaps even lifted his hand to receive a coin or two.  While his hand remained empty, he got something more than a coin.  Peter said, “We don’t have silver or gold but what we do have we will give you.  In the name of Jesus of Nazareth rise up and walk.”

As Peter reached his hand down and the man reached up, his ankles received healing strength and he stood and walked into the temple.  I smugly smiled my preacher smile.  The perfect story.  The perfect truth. Eternal is better than temporary. Surely my friends would see it, and everyone would go their way happy.  Only it didn’t happen.

I asked him “So what is better a few coins now or something that can change your life forever?”  I, of course, expected him to agree that the gift of eternal life is certainly more and better than a few coins or a quick meal.  His answer caught me totally off guard. He replied, “A few coins or some food.”  What?  I couldn’t believe what he was saying.  Surely, he understood.  Surely, I had made the story clear.

Then he said it.  “Heaven is good, but I am hungry now. I need food now.”  Well, sadly, he wandered off.  Still hungry.  Still lost. My friend continued to share with the first man but my heart was heavy and my mind on the other man.  Suddenly, I saw him again standing a few yards away. It was then I heard the Whisperer whisper.  It was short and simple.  “Give him food” the Whisperer said.  I had totally forgotten that in my backpack I had some tuna, chips, crackers for my own lunch.  I dug several items from my bag, as did my friend.

I walked over to the man and said, “This isn’t much but I hope it will quieten your stomach so you can hear Jesus.” He quickly took the food and left. There’s no bow on the package, no happily ever after ending, no prayer to receive Jesus.  But I know two things. I know he knew we cared, and I know he heard the truth and this time that had to be enough.  Maybe the seed would sprout later…only eternity will tell.

I learned a couple of things that day.  I learned that sometimes before we can share the Good News of the Gospel with a person, we need to touch them in a real tangible way.  A casual God bless you and a pat on the back doesn’t do much for an anxious soul or a hungry stomach.  We must talk Jesus, we must share Jesus, but we must be Jesus.  Someone said, “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.”

In these crazy, troubling times people need more than a sermon—they need to know we care.  How do we do that?  That’s the second thing I learned.  We must listen for the Whisperer.  We need to be sensitive to His gentle nudges. We must still our own souls and hearts if we are to hear His gentle voice. These days call for new ways…different ways.

So, as you walk about life, keep your eyes open, your heart still and watch in wonder at what God can do through you.  You don’t have to be in Africa to be on mission.  That can happen, must happen right here, right now.  And in these days of fear and frustration people are more ready to hear about God than ever before.  What a privilege to be entrusted with God’s work.  Up for the challenge?  God believes so.  Remember, He’s really big on you.  So, rest in Him.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, priorities, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, wisdom

The Captain and the Wind

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Oh, Lord God! You Yourself made the heavens and earth by Your great power and with Your outstretched arm. Nothing is too difficult for You!” Jeremiah 32:17

It was the gift of a lifetime. It was 1997 and we were experiencing the gift of a lifetime—the trip of a lifetime. The church where we pastored had honored us with a massive trip to the Holy Land in celebration of our tenth anniversary as their pastor.  I’ve shared some of those incredible times once or twice before in Grits. Recently though I was reminded of a part of the trip that was a small part of a big story and teaches a powerful lesson about us and God.

After a quick visit to Greece and a long visit to the Holy Land, we found ourselves in the land of Pharaohs.  How incredible to stand where the children of Israel once slaved and worked.  How amazing to stand where Moses stood as he spoke for the great, “I AM,” and spoke the words on behalf of God, “Let My people go.”  The pyramids, the great sphinx, the museums, the history all were breathtaking and then there was—the Nile.

Though my wife Judy and I have now seen and been on the Nile several times…back then it was the first time…and there’s nothing like the first time.  As part of our trip, we took a day trip on this ancient and mighty river.  There were all kinds of vessels on the river that day from small to very large, from very old to newer and from those powered by sails and those powered by massive engines.

Ours was powered by diesel.  As we prepared to leave the port, the captain of the vessel fired up the engines and soon we were underway.  With the powerful engine, the vessel went in the direction and speed that the captain desired.  It was impressive but there was something else there on the river that was equally so.  All around us were boats not powered by gas or diesel but by the wind.  Silently and gracefully, they cut through the water…not as fast as others but somehow more impressive…more desirable.

What was it that was so attractive?  It was the fact that they did not depend on their own power—they depended on a power outside of themselves—bigger than themselves.  They moved at a pace and the whim of the wind. Oh, there was a human hand on the rudder and there was skill in the positioning of the sail but still it was the wind that moved the boat. And, unlike our vessel, the captain and crew never had to worry about breaking down or running out of fuel.  And somehow, that just seemed better…richer.

I read a devotion by a guy named Aussie Dave (you have to love that name) that pointed out this vast difference.  And I learned that it wasn’t about boats at all…it was about us…and our lives…and how we choose to live our lives.  Oh, we can motor along through life, seemingly controlling our fate, our direction, our speed, and all that might work, will work, until the engine breaks down or we run out of fuel. And, trust me, there will be a time in life when both will happen and it is just about then we will realize the value of trusting something bigger, Someone bigger, with our journey. That, of course, is Creator God—the One who created it all—including the wind.

If I’m guessing right, a lot of us wrestle with letting the Creator of the wind propel our vessels…our lives.  We simply want to be in charge…to determine the direction and details of our trip but remember this.  Along the shores of Nile were abandoned vessels…broken down and wore down and long abandoned. And while there may have been a few sailing vessels along that same shore, they were always a candidate to be rebuilt—to be redeemed and that too is the story of those who trust in a Captain that made it all. With this Captain…nothing is impossible.

Judy and I will never forget that journey or the people who made it possible. It was a generous and sacrificial gift given from our friend’s hearts.  We will also never forget the generous and sacrificial gift of our Dearest Daddy who makes life, our lives, so rich and purposeful and our eternity so…well, sometimes there just aren’t words.  I hope you have chosen God as your Captain and I hope you will pause even now and listen.  Even when the wind goes still and your progress so slow, listen carefully as the Whisperer whispers, “I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Military memories, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful

A Grits Love Story

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Then the Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is just right for him.” Genesis 2:18

It happened just like that. I love grits…a lot.  I know some of you have no idea what grits are and have never tried them.  If you are from the North, I understand. If you are from the South, well, that’s just inexcusable. The problem with grits is that people want to mess with them by adding things like sugar and milk. Listen…you don’t mess with Texas, and you don’t mess with grits. When you add those two things to grits it changes their DNA and whatever it becomes is no longer grits.  It may be the same consistency, but sugar and milk rob grits of their heart and soul.

There are things you can add to grits.  The first three things on the list are salt, pepper and butter.  Grits were meant to be seasoned so don’t think a sprinkle of this, or a dash of that will get the job done.  You need to grab the saltshaker and get serious and do the same thing with the pepper.  Someone will say that salt is bad for your blood pressure.  Well, some things are worth the sacrifice.  The other things that bring grits to life are bacon, cheese and amazingly, shrimp. I’m telling you…grits are not the breakfast of champions…grits are the champion of breakfast.  If you learn to eat them right…you will never go back and the only question you will ask is, “Why did it take me so long?

I should have asked that question sooner in another season of my life. It was late summer of 1974 and I was coming out of a relationship that had gone on way too long. It was just time for it to end and it did.  I was in the Air Force and trust me an Air Force base nine miles from town in South Georgia can be a lonely place.  Imagine a bowl of grits without the salt, pepper, and butter and that was me. And then on a Wednesday night I decided to go to a local church.  Now I had done church all of my life, but walking into a strange church, by myself, on a Wednesday night, was not in my comfort zone.  But this bowl of grits needed some seasoning. So, I went hoping I would meet someone who might add some seasoning to my life.  And, just like that, it happened.

That night, I walked in the side door of the church and there was a small group of young ladies standing by the piano.  One, and only one, caught my eye.  Her name was Judy Allen, and that night was the beginning of a love story that has now stretched into a 46-year adventure of life and love.  I guess she was a little too young and maybe I was a little too old, but it was a different time and the bottom line…we fell in love.  That Georgia peach stole my heart and has never given it back.  I never thought of it this way, but I guess grits and peaches go together after all.

Through the decades and years, we have journeyed together…sometimes across town and sometimes across the world.  We built a legacy together that includes our three daughters, their husbands, and our grandkids…all eight of them. We first served our country together as an Air Force family and then served our God as a team—side by side in four different churches over 39 years. At each stop, I was the grits, and she was the seasoning.  She was and is a gifted servant in her own right, but she was also the salt, pepper, and butter that made me a better bowl of grits, a better man…a better pastor. I fully understand what God meant when He said in Genesis, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is just right for him.” Well, thank you God for that one.

Grits (what I write not the ones you eat) is just one more example of her seasoning me—encouraging me.  She had been nudging me for years to write and I simply wouldn’t listen.  And then COVID came along and on a whim, I wrote a very short story and posted it and almost a year later my fingers are still mashing keys.  What you may not know is that Judy once again was there to season my frail attempts.  She developed the blog and the Facebook page, and she proofs my words then designs the graphics.  She adds flavor to Grits—and our life and our ministry.

So, on purpose and without apology, let me tell her and you, just how much I love her and how grateful I am for the seasonings she has brought to my life.  There are two things I know.  First, I can’t imagine what life would have been if I hadn’t gone to church that night.  See, you oughta go to church!  But second, I can’t imagine what life would have been if this particular someone, by God’s amazing grace, hadn’t walked with me all these years. It seemed she always knew just how much salt, how much pepper and how much butter to add to this ole bowl of grits…and I love her for it.

So, there you go.  It’s a grits love story.  If you’ve tried grits (the kind you eat…not the ones you’re reading) and didn’t like them…you probably just didn’t have them seasoned right.  You might want to give them another try. And if you have someone in your life that, honestly, just feels a little bland, like grits without the good stuff, don’t give up on them.  Go ahead and be the seasoning in their life. You might be amazed, just like I was, how a little salt, a little pepper, and some butter can make a bowl of ground corn taste amazingly good. Oh, and then, don’t forget to also thank God because He’s the One who made it all possible anyway.  I’ve learned, and I am still learning, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Crash! Grind! Bummer.

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love.” Romans 8:38 (NLT)

It happened just like that.  I was new to the game…too new to the game.  I had had my driver’s license just a few weeks or at most a couple of months.  I can honestly say I wasn’t one of those cocky kid drivers, in fact I was probably scared to death. I had a job at a Food Fair a fair distance from where we lived at 6008 Carlton Road, and someone had to take me to work. Then my Daddy did it. He trusted me. One day he said that I could take the car and drive myself to work. They weren’t going anywhere, and it would save them from going and coming and coming and going.  I couldn’t believe it.

I remember the first time I carefully backed out of the driveway heading toward Ricker Road.  That day, and for several other days, things went well.  Again, I was careful, I didn’t break the rules and I wasn’t a speeder. Of course, our 1961 Plymouth station wagon wasn’t exactly a race car anyway.  There and back, I went, and all was well…until it wasn’t. One day, like several other days, I was going to drive to work.  Daddy car-pooled and wasn’t home yet.  I backed out of the driveway like every time before and headed for Ricker Road just like every time before…but it wasn’t like every time before.

Apparently, I had opened the back door on the driver’s seat to put something in the backseat and didn’t close the door all the way. As I pressed the gas pedal, the rear door swung open and that is when Mr. Inexperience took over. I heard the road noise, look over my shoulder and saw that the door was open. Well, instead of stopping and closing the door I tried to turn and reach over my shoulder to close the door.  When I turned and reached, I accidentally turned the wheel and, gulp, I ran right into—or actually over—one of our neighbors’ mailboxes. Crunch, grind, bummer.

I hit the brakes and sat there in total shock.  The mailbox was one of those that kinda sat on a little arm and that little arm had hit my windshield and cracked it.  It seems the mirror took a direct hit too. I was so afraid, and I didn’t know what to do…so I ran.  Yup, I was a hit and run driver, but I didn’t drive away…I ran away leaving the car running, my driver’s door open and the mailbox lying dead on the side of the road.

Since I hadn’t made it very far, our house was just a few dozen yards down the road, and I ran all the way. I ran into the kitchen and right into my Momma’s arms. She wanted to know what had happened and the best I could I explained it and then she asked where the car was and the best I could I explained that too. We went back to the car and brought it home and I’m sure Momma and I made a trip to the neighbor’s front door to explain what happened.

Let me tell you what didn’t happen.  Though I was certain it had—the world didn’t come to an end.  After a short while, Daddy came home, and I told him what had happened.  He wasn’t happy but he didn’t disown me…after all I was his son…before and after the accident.  I don’t believe there was any punishment either, but I am sure there was some instruction about how to close a door when the car is moving. “Stop. Close door.”  I also imagine there was some instruction about not leaving the scene of an accident.  And the neighbor…I simply don’t remember but I guess he didn’t press charges. Smile.

I’m sure my little accident cost my Daddy and Momma more than they could afford…even without repairing the mailbox.  I am sure it was money that could have been better used paying an electric bill or buying groceries for our “not too small” family.  But my best memory of all was the fact that Daddy and Momma loved me regardless and anyway.  Oh, I guess you could say it was because I was the baby of the family and their favorite (smile) but the truth is love ruled the day that day.

Looking back, I realize that was one of those times when my Daddy reminded me of my Dearest Daddy…my Heavenly Daddy. My Daddy could have extended wrath, but He extended grace and love—just like my Dearest Daddy…my Heavenly Daddy. I think I learned that day that my Daddy wasn’t someone to run from but to run to—just like my Dearest Daddy…my Heavenly Daddy. Paul, the one in the Bible, said that nothing can ever separate us from the One who loves us most.  How about that?  We have a Dearest Daddy…a Heavenly Daddy that is always there and always willing to whisper, “I’ve got that.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

HeartMaker

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek His will in all you do, and He will show you which path to take.” Proverbs 3:5-6

I watched and liked what I saw.  I am a pastor and have been one for just about 41 years.  It has been a great ride and I have to admit it still surprises me when I realize just how quickly time and has come…and gone.  I have been at my present church for going on 23 years and if the first number was surprising to me…the second is even more so.  To be at one place that long…to say hello to so many people and sadly goodbye to others…is eye-opening.  It also has been fun watching the kids grow up.  The guy who leads worship for us was five years old when I came.  Amazing.  I even had hair back then…or at least more.

In my 41 years serving as a pastor and in my 22 years here where I serve now, I have bumped into a lot of people.  Some of them were nice by nature. You know, always smiling, always optimistic, and always holding the door so someone could enter first. They never forgot a birthday and were always looking for ways to lend a helping hand.  When these folks met Jesus, there didn’t seem to be a lot to change…at least on the outside.  That’s one kind of people but there is another.  Take the opposite of everything I just wrote and meet the other side of the fence. And this is what is really exciting because it so shows the power of the gospel.

I love to hear everyone’s Jesus story but I especially love the ones where the change Jesus brings is like night and day.  It’s kinda like when you mow your grass and it really needs it…you stand back and say, “Wow…that looks better.” Now to be sure, every Jesus story is a “wow” story but to see a rough old sinner become a saint by God’s grace is simply amazing. And here’s the deal.  Whether it is someone who oozes kindness or someone as rough as a corncob, the truth is they are who they are because of the Heartmaker.

I was officiating at a funeral one day for one of those really good people and I told the audience that we should remember that the person we were honoring that day was who they were because of Jesus.  When they met Him, the Heartmaker gave them a new heart…a heart just like His. Tucked away in the Old Testament part of the Bible is a word picture of this.  It says, “And I will give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony, stubborn heart and give you a tender, responsive heart.” That’s what the Heartmaker does for every person who chooses to follow Him.

I’ve said before, “I wish I had that person’s heart.” Oh, I’m generally a pretty nice guy but when I see someone who seems to do Jesus really well, it creates a longing in me to be more like them which is more like Jesus. The good news is that we don’t have to wish…all we must do is ask and the Heartmaker will come to the rescue.  But you need to know this…a heart like Jesus doesn’t come cheap…it will mean seeking, surrendering, and maybe suffering…just like Jesus.  It means loving the unlovable and forgiving those who hurt us the worse..just like He would.

There is a story about a young pastor who was visiting with an old, respected pastor. The young pastor said he wished he could have the maturity and respect he saw in the older pastor’s life.  The elderly statesman said, “Son, those things came into my life through great toil and suffering.  Are you ready to pay that price?”  Not surprising, his answer was no.  We can all admire a man or woman with a great heart but how many of us would be willing to pay the price that comes with it?

The truth is all of us who are Jesus followers can and should have a heart like Jesus…the Heartmaker. I think the path that leads to a Jesus heart is found in Proverbs 3:5-6 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek His will in all you do, and He will show you which path to take.” If you’re interested in having a heart like Jesus, it starts with asking the HeartMaker. Trust me—He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, friends, gratitude, life, love, priorities, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Don’t Forget the Dasher

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” 1 Corinthians 13:13

I churned and churned and then I churned some more.  It was 1976 and it was a big year for sure.  America celebrated her 200th birthday and on June the 26th, my wife Judy and I were married. I was in the Air Force stationed at Moody Air Force Base and she was a cute Georgia peach. We sealed the deal on a hot, and I do mean hot, Georgia afternoon.  After our honeymoon in Florida, we settled into our apartment in Valdosta, Georgia.  We lived in a nice complex that came complete with a swimming pool. We were living high on the hog…especially when you considered I was a sergeant in the military. Even with that, as would become a trademark of our lives, God was good to us.

Shortly after we were married, on another of those hot Georgia afternoons, we decided to invite Roy Smith Allen, Judy’s Daddy over for supper.  I can’t remember what Judy cooked but I am sure it was good. What I do remember is what we had for dessert—homemade ice cream. After dinner was done, Roy Smith Allen and I retired to the patio so I could churn the ice cream.  I was a bit nervous because quite frankly, Roy Smith Allen could be a bit intimidating.  He was a real good guy and he definitely had taken a shine to me—but still—he was Roy Smith Allen.

Well, Judy mixed up the ice cream recipe and before long I was seated beside the churn, churning away.  This wasn’t one of those electric mixers, no, this was the real deal, one of those “you gotta work for your ice cream”, mixers.  So Roy Smith Allen and I sat there and made casual conversation while I churned. This went on for quite a while and I realized that the ice cream was taking a long time to freeze. I was churning but it wasn’t making.  After about thirty minutes or so, the inevitable happened.  Roy Smith Allen said, “Son, what’s wrong with that ice cream?”  Well truth be known I didn’t have a clue. We added some more ice and added some more rock salt but no matter what we did…it just wasn’t freezing.

Just about then, Roy Smith Allen, asked a question. “Boy,” he said, “you did put the dasher in…didn’t you?” Dasher…I knew that was town near Valdosta, I knew that someone who was in a hurry was called that, and I even knew it was supposed to go in the ice cream churn to stir up the ice cream.  What I didn’t know was if I had put it in.  I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that I hadn’t. Bummer. This was something that Roy Smith Allen wouldn’t forget and wouldn’t keep to himself.

Well, I stopped churning and removed the crank thing from the churn and then removed the top from the thing that held the mix.  There was no dasher. Shoot. Well, I don’t remember what Roy Smith Allen said but I am sure it involved a couple of “Son’s” and a couple of “Boy’s.”  Well by now I was thoroughly embarrassed as I put the dasher in and thankfully within just a few minutes we had ice cream.  Turned out the mix was so cold; it was more than ready to cooperate and freeze.  So, it all turned out delicious in the end and trust me, I never forgot again to put the dasher in and I’m sure Roy Smith Allen didn’t forget about the time I did.

When it comes to making ice cream several things are really important.  The ice, the salt, and the dasher.  Leave those out and you will be drinking sweet milk instead of eating ice cream.  And guess what?  There are more than a few things that are really important in life.  You probably have your own list, but mine would definitely include God, love, and people.  God is like the dasher…He makes life happen.  Love is like the ice and salt. It makes the conditions right for making life sweet and creamy.  Oh, and people, well, like ice cream, life is better if we have someone to share it with.

So, as we journey down this road called life, make your list, check it twice, and make sure it is a list with things worth having. And might I add, God, love, and people is a great place to start to your list. When Paul was writing to the church in Corinth, he shared one of his lists and it included three things…faith, hope and love.  And the greatest was love.  Love might well be the dasher of life because the Bible also says, “God is love.”  And somewhere I bet it says, “I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Not Bad, Just Hard

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

I am the Way, the Truth and the Life.  No one comes to the Father, but by Me.” Jesus in John 14:6

It was Monday…and my brother died. It wasn’t a total surprise as we knew his health was deteriorating. He and his wife had been living in an assisted living facility for several years.  As he grew older, as often happens, his body began to wear out and finally Monday morning it just quit working.  He not only was my brother, but he was my oldest brother. He was seventeen years older than me and in so many ways he was more than just a brother…he was like a second father. To a large degree he helped mold me into who I am today…especially spiritually.  My brother was a believer, a Jesus follower and if I may say so…a pretty good one at that.  In fact, I can’t remember him ever not being a Jesus follower. 

He was the one who always made sure I had a ride to church.  He was one of those three-time-a-week goers, so I suppose that is why it has been a habit in my life too.  Over the years, he shared a lot of good advice with me…advice that has guided me along my journey. When I became a pastor, he offered me some Godly wisdom and for my birthday gifted me with a couple of foundational books.  At one of the churches I pastored, he felt led to lend a hand financially…something he did for more than a few years. He was like a father but he also was like the State Farm commercial that says, “just like a good neighbor, State Farm is there.” He was always there.  Oh, we lived in different parts of the country…but that didn’t matter.  That’s how some relationships are.

My brother wasn’t just my oldest brother…he was my last brother.  When he left town on Monday for a bigger and better place, I looked around and realized I was the last brother standing.  And that was another of those, “mortality moments.”  He was just shy of 86 when he left here and went there—there being heaven.  Eighty-six is a pretty good number, especially for men and especially for Taylor men. At first there were five of us Taylor men and three had already changed addresses—thankfully all in heaven.  So, that left the bookends—my oldest brother at one end and me, the youngest at the other. He lived a long, good life…not the richest guy, not the most popular guy, and not the most powerful guy. In the end those don’t matter anyway.  What matters is he was a Jesus guy. He made a difference. He made an impact. He left a legacy.

So, what happened that Monday morning when the last heartbeat came? Often our first thought is something bad happened.  Well, I guess you could say God, through His Word, helped me have a different view.  As I looked at all of this, death, life, and all that it entails, it seemed God said, “Dewayne, this isn’t bad…it’s just hard.”  It immediately became lodged not in my throat but in my heart.  Not.Bad.Just.Hard.  Now don’t misread this, because there is plenty of bad in the world but with God painted into the picture, His grace and mercy can change bad to just hard.

You see, when my brother’s heart stopped the other day, he gave up a broken world for one that is perfect. He gave up a broken body for one that is perfect. He gave up sickness, tears, and sadness for a place where none of that exists. No assisted living, no hospitals, no funeral homes—just a home like none we can ever imagine—at home with his Dearest Daddy.  See, it’s hard for us, sometimes really hard for us, however for him…no…he’s doing better than ever before. You might say that he is more alive than ever before.

My brother loved our family reunions and guess what? There is one coming that will outshine them all.  Because of my pastoral responsibilities and distance, I didn’t make too many of the reunions but this one coming up…I’ll be there.  Oh, it isn’t because I’m a preacher, or go to church, or belong to one denomination or another.  No, just like my brother, I’ll be there because I am a Jesus guy and He is the way to the reunion of all reunions.  Jesus said, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life and no one comes to the Father but by Me.”  Yes, it is a narrow road but the grand part is everyone is invited to participate.  All you have to do is say, “Yes” to Jesus.

So, my brother died…well…actually His body died but not him.  I’ll see him again and that’s not bad. The separation is hard but there is a party coming…one for the ages.  You need to know that God wants you there also, and He made it possible for that to happen.  Jesus, faith, grace, and mercy.  Indeed, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne