Category: love

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

Snippet

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

But Jesus said, “Let the children come to Me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who are like these children.” Matthew 19:14

It’s tucked away in the memories of my mind…a snippet in a sea of remembrances.  I’ve said it so many times by now that some might say it is overkill, but the bottom line is my Daddy and Momma went so far to make special days…special.  The king of the hill, of course, was Christmas but they also tried to make each birthday special. They couldn’t afford it but somehow, they did it. And one of those sacrifices is the center of the snippet.

It was probably 1959.  I was about five years old growing up in a world so different from today you would think that we moved to a different planet. It was a dozen days past Christmas, and it was my birthday. I’m sure there was cake, I’m sure there was a family celebration but what I remember most is the present.  I’m not sure how you decide what to get a five-year-old but Daddy and Momma sure knocked it out of the park that year.

Since there were no K-Marts or Walmart’s, I can only imagine that Daddy and Momma went down to the local Western Auto to shop.  If you don’t remember they were a neighborhood store that was part appliance store, part general store and part household store.  They also had a selection of toys…especially at Christmas and maybe that is why they had what I got.  That year my parents bought me an ice cream truck.

Well, it really wasn’t a truck, and it really didn’t hold ice cream but it was something special.  It had three wheels, like a trike, but behind the seat it had large metal box with decals that said, “ice cream.”  The handlebars had those plastic streamers on each end, the front wheel had a fender and of course, it had a bell.  I can remember driving and peddling down the road in front of our house.  There was little traffic so there was also little danger of getting run over.

For some reason I can remember about a quarter of mile down the road a man was building a small box house.  He was singlehandedly taking on this project, and I decided to peddle down there and he was working away.  I “pulled up” and asked if he would like an ice cream and the reason I remember him, his house and that day was that rather than brush me off…he played along and if I remember correctly, almost every day I would peddle down the road to see my new customer and friend.  The ice cream was pretend, but his kindness was not.  Looking back at this snippet of a memory, it still makes me smile.

Hanging over the fireplace in my wife’s “keeping room” is a quote by Maya Angelou.  Something she said says so much.  She said, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” And that is the very reason I remember this man taking time from building a house to talk and befriend a five year old boy.  I don’t remember his name, but I do remember his heart.

What about you?  What about us?  I wonder will we take the time to be kind…to treat someone with an extra measure of kindness and implant a “snippet” in their hearts? In those days when I was five, kids were supposed to be more seen than heard.  There seemed to be the adult world and the kid’s world and while there weren’t walls there were boundaries and this kind man chose to move beyond the boundary.  He made me feel…important.  He made me feel like I mattered.  Perhaps today, we should try to do the same.  Today, perhaps we should choose to be like…Jesus.

Jesus was famous for seeing the invisible people and touching the untouchable.  He even said one time, “Let the little children come to Me.”  He would have said to that little five-year-old boy with an ice cream truck, “Let Dewayne come to me.”  And I want you to know that no matter how invisible you feel, no matter how insignificant…you are not either to Jesus!  Tattoo that on your hearts…you matter, and you matter a lot to Him.  So, if life seems overwhelming, or maybe underwhelming, just remember you’ve got a friend in Jesus.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Trials

Blinders

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.” Matthew 7:12

I was blindsided.  It was time for a haircut. Now that is a relative statement—you know like relatively speaking.  I had five brothers and only two of us are left.  All the brothers had hair—lots of hair. No receding hairlines, no clogged drains in the shower, no nothing but lots of hair.  And then there is me.  While my daddy had a receding hairline, he never lost his hair.  Well, that was them and that was him but it sure isn’t me.  It started with a receding hairline, then it became a thinning receding hairline and then it became a full-blown retreat.  I now have a really, long forehead.  I don’t know if it is still in full retreat or if we are holding our own.  The jury is still out. So, I’m trying to say that a haircut for me is a relative statement. I am grateful that getting a haircut still doesn’t mean getting a solitary hair cut, but I do remember the days when there were more than a few.

Now, I keep my hair short for two reasons.  First, I have grayish white hair and I found it doesn’t look quite as white if I keep it shorter.  Second, and I can only guess, it is a carryover from my days with my Daddy and in the military.  For the first 18 years of my life my Daddy made sure I kept my hair short (even though it was the late sixties and early seventies).  After him, it was twelve years in the Air Force, and they made sure it was short. Well, after 30 years of short hair I figured, why change now?  So, the bottom line is about once a month I go see my hair cutter person.  Even after a month, my hair is sparse and less than an inch long.

So, I was in the chair, and she was clipping and buzzing along.  She has cut my hair for the last 15 or so years so she knows the landscape well.  Well, she said, “Dewayne did you hit your head or something?”  I assured her I hadn’t, but she was sure something had happened.  Well, my wife Judy had gotten me a pair of virtual reality goggles for Christmas.  I had used them the night before and the straps fitted tightly around my head, so I assured her that was what she was seeing.  Then she said, “Well, let me show you.”

Before I knew it, there was a mirror in my hand, and she turned me around, so I was looking in the mirror.  I could see something I had never seen—the back of my head.  Oh.My.Goodness.  You see, I naturally assumed that my…oh, how I hate to use the word…baldness stopped at the front of my head.  I also assumed that I had the mane of Samson in the back.  I was wrong.  There in the mirror I got to see what everyone else saw all the time.  While it wasn’t totally a moon scape let’s just saw it was thin.  You might say it was wavy—you know, the hairs there had plenty of space to wave at one another.

Well, I gasped and bless her heart, she did her best to assure me it wasn’t that bad—the average person looking wouldn’t even notice.  She said you would have to look really close to see it.  She was so nice, but I had the strangest feeling she was not telling the whole truth.  And in that moment, I realized that my days of teasing people with a halo at the back of their head were probably over.  I had reached a new level of membership in the hair club—or perhaps more appropriately, the “no hair club.” What struck me as funny was I had no idea.  I really was blindsided.  I couldn’t see what any other person walking behind me could see.  To make matters worse, let’s just say that I’m not the tallest guy in the neighborhood. That means everyone taller than me, which is probably 90% of the adult population, had a great view of my impending hair doom.

Well, that started the wheels turning in my mind.  I wondered just how many other things are there about me that I am totally blind to?  How many times did my impatience at the grocery store show?  How many times did my glaring eyes betray my true feeling when some nice “little, old lady” pulled out in traffic in front of me?  How many times was my sarcasm not as veiled as I thought?  Oh my!

So, I think I might have learned something valuable at the hair cutting place that day.  It wasn’t that I should get a hand mirror so I can see the back of my head.  No, it was the fact that I should, we should, be aware that people are always deserving of our courtesy, our kindness, our compassion.  If we are Jesus people, especially if we are Jesus people, we should make a conscious decision to be authentically nice. The golden rule, which is found in the Bible, says “So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.” Truth is it is not always easy to be kind, but it is always right.  And when it seems especially hard, don’t panic.  God is good at being kind so you can rest assured that He will help you. After all, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, Integrity, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, wisdom

This Little Light of Mine

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

You are the light of the world—like a city on a hilltop that cannot be hidden. No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a basket. Instead, a lamp is placed on a stand, where it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father.”  Matthew 5:14-16

It was a great idea that just got better.  Thomas Edison had a really great idea when he invented the light bulb.  I love that history records that he failed in his first 10,000 attempts.  Of course, he was quick to correct anyone who said that.  He simply told them he didn’t fail 10,000 times, he just learned 10,000 ways not to do it.  The light bulb simply changed life in America and over the years it has continue to evolve.  First, it just got better. The life expectancy of a bulb in the early years was pretty poor—about 14.5 hours.  But over the years it got better and better.

More than several years ago a radical change happened.  Someone mass produced the compact fluorescent bulb.  These were revolutionary.  They burned for a much longer time, they were much cooler and they were much cheaper to operate.  The equivalent of a 60 watt bulb would only consume about 8 or 9 watts.  That’s a big difference.  While they were expensive to buy at first, the price came down pretty quickly.  And then the prom queen of light bulbs arrived…the LED or light emitting diode bulb burst on the scene.

When LED’s first came out they were barely bright enough to use in a watch.  Now they light the highways with headlights and streetlights.  They are amazing.  And the most amazing thing—they only consume a couple of watts of energy.  They literally cost pennies a day to operate.  An added bonus is that they last a really long time.  If you look at the package, you will read they are supposed to burn for 22,000 hours.  That figures out to about 916 days. Whoa!  That sounds impressive but is it really?

You see, I have discovered that while the LED may last that long, often the electronics in the base don’t. I have had LED bulbs that didn’t make it six months.  But there is a secret.  Regardless whether it is an old fashioned incandescent bulb, or a compact florescent bulb or a LED bulb, the more often you turn it on and off—the shorter the life span.  Yup—it’s the truth.  I have some LED lights in my bathroom that have been burning 24 hours a day, seven days a week for over two years and they are still going strong.  Ok, you’re probably wondering, “why would I do that?”

Well, a couple of years ago I remodeled our bathroom.  It had lights on each side of the vanity mirror.  The old light fixtures had switches to turn the light on and off.  Well, the new fixtures didn’t.  So I said to myself, “Who needs a switch?  After all, it costs a few pennies a day to burn the bulb, I didn’t have to try and figure out how to install a switch and I don’t ever walk into a dark bathroom.  So, there you go! Problem solved.  And like the Energizer bunny—they keep right on burning.

As I was pondering all of this, it occurred to me this is why some Christians burn out and some Christians keep right on burning.  You see, just like the light bulb, we last a lot longer when we are consistently on.  Believers who are on again and off again just tend to burn out.  What does that look like? First, things like prayer and reading the Bible slip away and then going to church and where that light once burned bright—only an unlit bulb remains…dark and cold. Yet those who make it a priority to stay on—to keep that appointment and read the Book, to talk daily with their Dearest Daddy and make attending church a priority on their calendar—they just seem to last and last. And it is no accident.  It just makes sense.  Jesus said that we are the light of the world—reflecting His light to a dark world.  And when we do the right things—it reflects so well on Him.

Well, I don’t know if I will ever install a switch or not.  I kinda like walking into a lit room.  Actually, we have eight or nine lights in our house that never get turned off.  All are LEDs and all cost a few cents to burn, and all chase the darkness away.  I like that too.  And then there’s always the “I wonder just how long they will burn?” challenge.  Who knows, there might be a record out there somewhere.  But I’ll only find out if I leave it on.  And that is true with our Jesus walk too.  We need to rise to the challenge and see just how long we can burn brightly—for Him.  The best way to start is to remove the option, the switch.  The next step is to determine you are going to trust Him to help you keep burning bright.  He will, you know.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, loving others, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, travel

Memory Trees

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy.” Psalm 30:11

Just a heads up. Christmas trees. They all have their own time to be setup. They all have their own design and style.  They all have their time when they are trashed or stowed.  There is a common denominator.  Those three things are determined by the creators, the admirers of the trees.  That is what makes every tree special. At our house, we do something just a bit different.  We have four trees that make a small, enchanted forest of sorts.  The tallest is about six foot and the smallest is about 30 inches.  It was an idea that I came up with several years ago and we love it.  They are decorated with a wide variety of ornaments and keepsakes from over the decades…and we love that too.

On one tree, we have a styrofoam snowman’s head that was made by my sister when she was in the third grade…and trust me…that was a really, long time ago.  There is a glitter covered cross from when my wife Judy was in the fourth grade.  Of course, there are three “baby’s first Christmas” ornaments—one for each of our daughters.  There is a 3×5 index card with two buttons on it.  Written, by my oldest granddaughter when she was about 5 years old, is her name over one button and Papa written over the other.  It is priceless.  We were buddies…we are buddies. And on and on it goes…families, friends, and special memories all gathered in one place.

So, by now you are wondering, “Why are you writing about Christmas trees after Christmas has passed?”  It’s a bit of a story. When we were in Germany in 1979, we lived in base housing.  They were large, four-story apartment buildings, with three stairwells—all full of military families.  We were on the top floor, and we had one neighbor across the hall, and they actually had a phone in their home.  One year, near Easter, I needed to use the phone, so I knocked on the door and his wife came to the door.  I asked if I could use their phone and she was kind enough to say yes.

As I entered their apartment, I noticed one thing right away.  Sitting in their living room was their Christmas tree in all of its splendor.  Now, keep in mind it was right before Easter.  I made my call and just had to ask the obvious question.  I politely said, “So why do you still have your Christmas tree up?”  And, without missing a beat, she said, “It makes me happy.”  I never forgot that simple answer and the great truth it taught me.  It.Makes.Me.Happy.

I love the fact that this sweet lady made a decision not based on popular opinion, not on what the masses did, not the usual.  She decided based on what was good for her—for her mental health.  I didn’t think her odd at all—rather, I thought her strong and wise.  I wonder how many decisions we make every day that are not based on what may be good for us but based on what the Smith’s or Jones might think of us? I wonder how many things we wear, or eat, or watch, or do, that are based on the opinion of others?  I wonder how many of our faith decisions are based on the same.  Church—no church. Kindness—no kindness. Love—no love. Jesus—no Jesus. Hmmmm. I just wonder.

Well anyway, if you live around Harrisburg, Illinois you need to know something.  For the next few weeks or so, you might see a small, enchanted forest in our front bay window.  It will be four trees starting at about six feet tall and going down to 30 inches.  If you could get close enough you would see the trees covered with special ornaments—and almost everyone would represent a special memory or event.  And why will they be there?  Well, it might just be a reminder that we have so much to be thankful for. They will not be Christmas trees but memory trees…trees of gratitude.

In those coming days, we will drink coffee and do our Jesus things like reading the Bible or praying and occasionally we will look up and be happy—happy for all the blessings that God has sent our way.  Someone writing about God in His Book said that God had turned their mourning into joyful dancing. He had taken away their clothes of mourning and clothed them with joy. I couldn’t agree more.  Even in these different days, even in a year that rivaled 2020 for challenges and conflict, and even when a future is still not very certain, we will have happy moments.  We will pause and thank God that in the past He always showed up and today and all the today’s yet to come…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, wisdom

I Love Christmas

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

I’ve said it before, I’ve written it before, but I’ll say it again, I’ll write it again.  Once again, it is Christmas Eve.  I have celebrated Christmas Eve sixty-seven times. Granted I don’t remember some of the early ones and I guess to be honest I don’t remember a lot of the other ones either, but I remember enough to know that each one was special.  When I was growing up it was all about family, food and presents.  My Momma and Daddy did such an incredible job of making sure each Christmas was electric with excitement.  While there are several special memories, some were just bigger than others.  One particular Christmas, my sister had asked for a chord organ.  Now that was a pretty big gift and yet I can remember lying in bed…all three of us little ones in one bed for that special night, and hearing through the thin walls the magical sounds of that organ.  Santa had come.

The next morning, with a house filled with family, we would celebrate with gifts, some large, some small, but all given and wrapped with love.  Later would come a big meal and prayers of gratitude for a good God who loved us and blessed us.  Many more Christmas Eves have come and gone.  Some were challenging, like when my Daddy was still recovering from a heart attack, some were much smaller like when it was just my wife Judy and me sitting in a small village in Germany serving our country.  The crowd was smaller, but the love was just as big.

Later, we had children and Christmas began to take on a whole new dimension. Judy and I became more the giver than the receiver.  We had the opportunity to do for them like my parents had done for me.  We watched with joy as their faces lit up with happiness as each gift was unwrapped.  Clothes and toys with an occasional bike or hamster thrown in the mix are all part of the memory.  But through it all, one thing remained a constant…love…love for each other and experiencing the love of a God who won’t, who can’t stop…loving.

Now, well, the Christmas journey continues.  Our children have grown up and all three of them have kids of their own and Christmas isn’t less…it is more.  At some point and despite busy schedules, we will get together and love, and celebrate and be thankful for each other and for the One who makes it possible.  In my experiences of Christmas, I have discovered that it isn’t the circumstances that make a Christmas Eve or Christmas morning special or not.  It is not the bounty of presents or the location, no, it is love.  My favorite Christmas verse from the Bible says it all, “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” Now that is a Christmas verse.

God doesn’t want anyone to miss Christmas with Him and that is why He threw open the front door and hung out the welcome sign.  He simply says, “Ya’ll come home for Christmas.” No matter who, no matter what, you are welcome home for Christmas.  I know growing up things weren’t always perfect in the Taylor tribe but for the most part we did manage to love each other and I’m glad we did.  So, Merry Christmas.  Remember that He chose to love us and because of that maybe, just maybe, we can choose to do the same for those around us.  If you listen this Christmas Eve, you may just hear the Whisperer whisper, “Merry Christmas, I love you, come on home for Christmas.  I’ve got this.”    Bro. Dewayne

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

The Old 410 Wake Up

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed.” Romans 13:11

We were the three little ones.  Momma and Daddy either by plan or accident ended up with a big family.  They had five reasonably close together and then took a break before finishing up the family with three more.  The three little ones consisted of two girls and one boy.  I was the boy and as the baby in the family, I was the best.  They called me “Precious”, because I was.  Smile.

The story isn’t about that, but I love stirring the pot.  The way it worked out at Christmas; the five older kids entered the world of nonbelievers long before we three.  I’m sure because one of my sisters-in-law said she changed my diapers.  But for the three little ones, Christmas was a magical world of believing and receiving.

On Christmas Eve night, we three were put into one bedroom.  The main part of the house only had two, so it seemed logical.  About 8:00 pm, Momma and Daddy would put us in the bedroom to “go to sleep” but of course that never happened.  We would lie in bed, whispering and giggling.  At some point, we would begin hearing strange noises coming from the living room.  I remember one year my sister asked for a “chord organ.” Imagine our excitement when, as we were “asleep,” we begin to hear musical sounds coming through the thin walls.  We couldn’t wait.  We would holler out and tell lies.  We would say, “We have to go to the bathroom.”  Of course, we didn’t, but we would do anything to “sneak a peek.”

Eventually, and it varied from year to year, we would doze off to sleep.  And yes, there were visions of sugar plums dancing in our heads. I am sure we woke up several times throughout the night to check the clock and it was always too early.  But we would know when it was time to get up.  The “410” would tell us.  You see my Daddy owned an old single shot 410 shotgun and every year that became our alarm clock.  Daddy, or one of the older brothers, would open the backdoor of the breezeway, stick the gun out and let her go.  The window where we were sleeping was right beside that door, so we had no problem hearing old Bessie when the time came. And, trust me, when the gun went off, we were up and running.

The door would fly open, and we would turn right into the living room and there would be a wonderland of toys and presents.  Our stockings would be stuffed to overflowing and we, well, we were amazed.  As we sifted through the piles of gifts and as the piles of used wrapping paper grew taller, it was heaven—at least to the three little ones.  I remember my sister-in-law, the same one that changed my diapers, took on the responsibility of going through all that paper to make sure some tiny, but important, part didn’t get accidentally thrown out.

The “410” became an heirloom in the family and my oldest brother became the proud owner. Last year, in an incredible act of generosity, he gave it to me and this year, once again, she will send out her wakeup call. She has killed her fair share of squirrels but the most important thing, in my opinion, was that she let us know it was time for Christmas.  It was time to get up. I think that is one thing I have learned these last couple of years. You might say it was a “410” of sorts.  All the crazy circumstances seemed to send a message loud and clear that it was time for some changes.  It was time for new priorities.  It was time to make time for the things that matter, like family, and time to let go of a lot of stuff. It was time to make every day matter because for too many—there wouldn’t be another day.

Hopefully, and I think the jury is still out, these days will be remembered as a time when a lot of people discovered or rediscovered God. A time that, for the first time, many could call Him Father.  Hopefully, and I also think the jury is still out, it will be remembered as a time that the church rediscovered what it was supposed to be and do.  Maybe it will be known as a time when the church stopped being a building at a certain address and became a people who still met in a building but then left to touch the lives of hurting people.  A “410” of sorts that heralded the Good News of God’s love.

The old “410” let us three little ones know it was time to wake up and the Bible says it is time for the church to do the same thing.  It says that we Jesus followers should know the time, that the hour has come for us to wake from sleep. The reason? Our salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed. In other words—wake up sleepy head—it is Christmas morning—time to rise and shine.  Rise and shine—that sometimes is easier said than done but I have a suspicion that with His help—we can shine for Him—letting others know loud and clear that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, Military memories, priorities, Southern born, travel

Care Packages

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Thanks be to God for His inexpressible gift!” 2 Corinthians 9:1

You never knew when they were coming.  When God and the Air Force decided to send us to Germany—well, it was an exciting adventure that we just thoroughly enjoyed.  But there was a downside…we were a long way from home…a real long way.  We were there from 1977 to 1980, we were young, and we were newlyweds.  Back then there were no cell phones and a landline call to the States was hugely expensive, so that just didn’t happen.  There was no internet.  The world moved at the speed of ship or a plane if you were lucky. The only option was snail mail and well, that could take a while.

Sometimes during the year, our parents would send us a box through the mail.  We called them “care packages.”  The reason was that when one came it was clear that someone back in the United States loved us and cared—about us.  That was important because as much as we loved being there—there wasn’t home—or anywhere close to home.

There were two times a year that you could almost always count on a care package—that was somewhere around your birthday and then Christmas.  I can still feel the excitement as the days clicked by.  We didn’t know when, but we just knew that my Momma or Judy’s Momma would spend the money and equally as important take the time to say, “I love you.”  We would go to the Post Office every day, looking for the yellow slip in our mailbox that said, “You have a package.”  Instantly it was like Christmas Day.

We would open the box that day—that hour if possible.  There would be wrapped presents and those we would save till the special day.  But there would always be just stuff—candy, trinkets, small things that could only be gotten in America.  Sometimes there were home baked goodies and even if they were stale by then—they were still from home, and we gladly ate them.

The care packages were an important link to home for us.  Like I said, it told us that someone was thinking of us—that we had not been forgotten.  What we need to realize, especially this week, is that God is the greatest sender of care packages.  His ultimate gift, His Son, made the way so broken people like us could not only come into the presence of Holy God but that we could call Him Father.  The Jewish people could never understand that.  To them God was a far off, unapproachable Deity that they worshiped.  But for Jesus followers—well we know Him as Dearest Daddy and that is not a term of disrespect or looseness—it is a term of His love for us and our love for Him.

Even amid these difficult and confusing days, God has continued to send His care packages along the way.  The Bible tells us this day, and every day, is a day that He made.  He makes the air that we breathe. Everything…everything…that we eat, enjoy or own is a care package from Him.  Every sunrise and sunset, every perfectly different snowflake is a care package from Him.  And every single night that I lay my head down on my pillow in the peace He provides—well, that’s a care package too.

Now to be honest, sometimes we would get things in our care packages from home and wonder “what in the world were they thinking?” I’m sure Judy and I laughed at more than few.  But do you know what?  Those things were notes of love too.  And the things that God allows and sends our way that we don’t understand—well, each one in its own way is a care package.

Well, as you know, times change, and the Momma’s have moved to heaven many years ago so the days of care packages from home are gone for us.  However, the memories linger, and the love is still felt from those special care package memories. But the care packages from God never change—He still sends them—every day—sometimes every minute.  He just loves us so much.  I hope regardless of your circumstances that you will make the choice to trust Him and to wait expectantly for His care packages.  Keep looking, keep waiting, and watching because each one tells us, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

It’s A Downtown Christmas

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

I pray that you, being rooted and firmly established in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the length and width, height and depth of God’s love.” Ephesians 3:17b-18

This was one time paying a bill was fun.  My life as a kid was good.  While we didn’t have everything, we had plenty, and we had each other.  A few weeks out from Christmas (believe it or not, we actually celebrated Thanksgiving before jumping into Christmas) we would get all the Christmas decorations down from the attic and decorate the house. I told you about the special Santa that used to hang on our chimney and believe it or not I was able to find one exactly like it and it now hangs in my office.  He keeps an eye on me all through the year to make sure I am behaving.

One of my favorite memories was the times when we had to go to downtown Jacksonville to pay our utility bills.  I suppose it was the electric bill because we had a pump in the backyard for our water and we didn’t use gas.  At any rate, with a tight budget, we would have to take the bill down to the electric company and drop it off the night before it was due. Christmas or not, off we would go to downtown.  But during the Christmas season…it was special indeed.  Here’s why!

Back in the day, all the department stores would decorate their windows with all things Christmas.  There would be figures whose arms and legs would move, reindeer that lifted their heads as if to fly, boys and girls skating on a make believe lake and on and on the list would go. It was certainly a magical thing to see and experience.  In its own small way, it made Christmas, Christmas.

Now here’s the good part.  Truth be known, if it wasn’t for the tight budget that forced us to make time to go downtown to pay the bill—we probably would have missed that beautiful part of our Christmas memories.  I know that often this is not by accident but rather by design.  You see God is always working, sometimes out front and sometimes in the background, but He is always working and yes, He does work in strange ways.  And often, what seems like a difficulty can be His way of bringing something good to light.  If we are willing to be patient, then time after time we will see His Divine handiwork.

I think one of the best things will be when we finally get to heaven and see that it is full of surprises.  We will know all the things God saved us from that we never saw happening and all the things He arranged that we skipped over and counted as consequence.  And as much as we think we know, I believe we are going to be astounded by the depth and width of His great love for us.

Paul, the guy who wrote a big chunk of the New Testament said it best when he wrote, “I pray that you, being rooted and firmly established in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the length and width, height and depth of God’s love.”  And honestly, that is one prayer we may not see answered because His love is so vast. So today, why not keep a special look out for all the ways God especially works in your life. Some will cause you to filled with gratitude and others, well, they might make you grateful that indeed, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, loving others, Military memories, missions, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

My Christmas Santa

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” Galatians 3:28

Santa Claus came to town.  I cannot describe the excitement that filled my small world as Christmas grew near.  I wish I could tell you it was all about Jesus, but in my boyhood world it was about presents and presents meant one thing—Santa Claus.  Just like we have now, we had an attic in our World War II barracks turned into a house.  And every year we would go into this magical place where special things lived and bring down the decorations.  We would start early and stay late.  While a white Christmas in Florida was never in the offing, a fun time was.

There were certain decorations that were staples in my world—I can see them in my mind’s eye like it was yesterday.  One of those was Santa Claus.  Now, we didn’t have the whole body but what we did have was his face.  Yup!  Our Santa face was about two feet tall and about 18 inches wide.  It was from molded plastic so it was three dimensional and to me—it was real.  When I got just a little older, I got to climb up on the roof (carefully for you concerned moms) and using some wire I would hang our Santa face on the front side of our chimney. But wait it gets better!  Our Santa face had a light bulb inside and would light up at night for all the world (at least so I thought) to see.  It was magical.

I remember the vibrant colors—the red hat falling down one side of his peachy face, his full white beard, rosy cheeks, and his eyes.  His eyes were bright blue and right in the middle of each pupil was a small hole so that brilliant white light could come peek out giving the illusion of just the right amount of twinkle.  It was as if I could hear his hearty “ho, ho, ho.”  It was more than a plastic face—for me it was the center of my Christmas world.

I’m not sure what happened to Santa.  By the time Momma moved out of the house, I was in the Air Force.  I’m hoping he is still living in someone’s attic, but probably he found his way to the trash pile…the victim of some relative that stopped believing.  But he will always live in my mind.  But in my grownup world, I stopped to question.  Why did Santa look just like me?  Why was his skin so peachy and his eyes so blue?  If he loved all the kids around the whole world, it didn’t seem quite right that my Santa looked so…white. What about the African American kids, or the Asian kids, or the Hispanic kids?  What about all the other kids?   It didn’t occur to me so much back then, but looking back…it does.

Well, having a peachy faced, blue eyed Santa is one thing but what about a peachy faced, blue eyed Jesus?  It’s so funny that when I look at a nativity set, there’s a fair skinned, often blue-eyed Jesus.  When I see a painting of Jesus in a church, (keeping in mind we don’t know what He looked like), He usually does have brown hair and eyes but His skin is unusually fair for a Middle Eastern man.  Honestly, perhaps this doesn’t matter too much unless we begin to think that Jesus is partial to us…no matter who “us” is.  You see, just like the kids’ song says, “Jesus loves the little children, all the little children of the world.”  Color never mattered to Him, or the side of town you lived in, or how rich or poor you were.  He just loves people.

I loved the Santa that hung on my chimney just the way He was.  He wasn’t making a statement…he was just saying, “Ho, ho, ho…Merry Christmas.”  But let’s make sure our Jesus, or at least how we perceive Him, isn’t making an unintended statement either.  There is a whole world out there who God loves and who Jesus died for. Paul, one of the guys who God used to write the New Testament, said, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” So, if we are a Jesus follower, let’s get the message out that Jesus loves people…period.  And just as important…let’s make sure we get the message out that because He loves people…we love people.

The mission for every Jesus follower is the same—love God, love people. That’s what the Bible teaches, and I figure if we are going to follow Him, we should follow it.  It’s not always easy to love people…especially in these crazy days but guess what?  With Him nothing is impossible.  That’s what the angel told the young, virgin Mary.  God can pull anything off—including helping us love others.  It’s just good to know that “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, gratitude, life, love, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Half Time

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

But you must not forget this one thing, dear friends: A day is like a thousand years to the Lord, and a thousand years is like a day.” 2 Peter 3:8

It was a Friday night and that meant football and that was a big deal.  Well, one Friday night I missed what would be called a supercharged, game of the year. So it may have been football night but I had a wedding rehearsal.  As a pastor I have the privilege of presiding at various wedding ceremonies.  To ensure it comes off at least in a semblance of order, we have rehearsals.  Now that doesn’t guarantee anything it just sort of helps.  It’s like Proverbs 22:6 “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it.”  That is a great Biblical principle but not a promise.  So, rehearsals don’t guarantee a smooth wedding, but they do help and hence we have them.

So, the rehearsal and dinner ended about 7:50 pm or so. I walked outside and from the church I could hear the crowd–the excitement. It sure sounded like a good game.  Honestly, though, I was pooped.  If you’ve never overseen a wedding rehearsal you probably can’t identify with that statement. It is kind of like pushing cooked spaghetti or herding cats. As I climbed into my car, I turned on the radio and headed to the house. A minute or two later was when our quarterback connected with one of the kids who attended our church for a touchdown—the first of three.  That tied the score with five minutes left in the first half.

For a moment, just a brief moment, I wondered, should I go and get Judy and head on over for the second half?  Well, I quickly dismissed the thought.  After all, who goes to a game at halftime…it was too late.  So, I got home and crashed.  We went to bed early and as usual I got up early…like 3:30 am.  I checked my phone and there was a message from a friend sent the previous evening: “U R missing the game of the year.”  I checked the internet and read the newspaper account and he was indeed right.

They say that hindsight is 20/20.  The question then becomes “So in light of it being an unbelievable game–the game of the year–was halftime too late to go?  Absolutely not. Considering what I learned Saturday morning after reading about the game, was I too tired, really, to go to the game?  The answer is probably not (I had that probably because I really was tired!).  The bottom-line, I wish somehow, I could have made the game.

So, what is the lesson to be learned from this tragic tale?  Well, first, halftime is not too late. It is never too late to heal a relationship, to offer an apology, to dream a new dream or rekindle a dying fire in a marriage. I obviously don’t know where you are in your life’s game right now, but one thing is sure:  it is further into the game than it was yesterday!  If you are like me, well, I’m past halftime…but life is still full of challenges, adventures, opportunities and, well, life.  So, it’s not too late.  Regardless of what time your life clock says–if it is still running–you still have opportunities.  You see, what we can accomplish may change and how we accomplish it may be altered but the fact remains that we can still do something.

There is a great verse in God’s Book, the Bible.  It says that with God a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years is like a day. We usually get the meaning that God is not bound by time but there is something else.  It also means that God can take a day and make it like a thousand years.  God can take what time we have left and multiply it.  In other words—it isn’t too late. There is plenty of time to love and plenty of time to serve.  Don’t throw in the towel.

Well, on that Friday night years ago I did miss the game and the boat.  But there were other Friday nights and other opportunities.  It is true for me, and it is true for you.  We just need to be wise enough to trust God with each day and wise enough to ask Him to help us make the most of them all.  I know that can be challenging but He is a “time multiplying, nothing is too big for Me” kind of God and if we will trust Him, we can rest assured that, “He’s got this.”