Category: loving others

Posted in Family, food, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, 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 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 nephew’s 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 have a fair idea of how much food was there.  Now, take what we had at the restaurant, which was really 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 all of a sudden, 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, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Thanksgiving, wisdom

Bring on the Gravy

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

It can make good things better!  Thanksgiving is quickly disappearing in the rearview mirror.  Especially because of these crazy it was good to get together with family and rejoice and remember.  I know from this side of the fence the Taylor cooks are off the scale good.  Our menu, at least the one that list the side dishes, is almost set in stone.  Mac and cheese, sweet potato casserole, strawberry pretzel salad and other salads (the kind that make you like salads), Apple pie…well you get the idea.  There is one thing that plays a minor role at our Thanksgiving table…gravy.

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

Momma also made a great giblet gravy at Thanksgiving.  She would take all those things that are tucked inside the turkey when you buy it, cut them up in tiny pieces and put them in her gravy.  Yup…it was incredible.  That’s when I began to learn the value of gravy.  It could take the driest dressing (not my Momma’s mind you) and make it the best dressing in the world.  It worked even better on leftovers.  You go back later that afternoon, fill your plate for round 2 of the feast, warm up the gravy and let her fly.  The dressing, the potatoes and the turkey all were reborn with a little gravy.

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

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

Now get this.  Just like a good gravy can make ordinary or less than extraordinary food taste incredible—grace can do the same thing.  Families are stronger, relationships are better, teams at work are more productive when grace gravy is poured all over them.  You know the circumstances of these last eighteen months have fractured relationships like crazy.  It is dividing families, friends and, yes, churches.  I think we need to pour some gravy—some grace—all over it.  If we don’t we are going to have some scars that time won’t heal.  If that happens and when this thing is all over, we might be able to heal it up but the scars will be forever visible.

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

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

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Spilt Milk

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

I tell you that on the day of judgment people will have to account for every careless word they speak. For by your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned.” Matthew 12:36-37

It gets real hot in North Florida.  When I write these stories I always try and remember things that happened in my youth that were either funny or difficult or both. Sometimes though they are just hilarious.  When I was about eight years old, my Momma and Daddy were always looking for ways to save a little money.  I didn’t know if we were rich or poor and I don’t suppose it mattered. Sometimes it was more obvious but most times it was just life.

I’m not sure how we got started but we began to buy our milk from a family that lived about a mile from where we lived.  It wasn’t really a dairy farm it was more like three or four cows. We would go over twice a week and buy a couple of gallons in big half-gallon glass jugs.  And let me tell you…this wasn’t the pasteurized stuff we drink today.  It was straight from the cow.  And one more thing, it was NOT 2%, or 1% or skim milk.  No sir, this stuff came fully loaded with milk fat.  It was good.  We had an old ice cream churn, the kind you had to crank and that milk made the best ice cream you ever tasted.  It was always a special day when we went and got milk.  And then one day it wasn’t.

We were still driving that old 1957 Plymouth and it was time to get milk.  I think Momma was driving and one of my sisters was in the front seat and the other in the back with me.  Those were the days before seat belts and rules about kids not sitting in the front seat.  In fact in those days the dashboard was made out of metal.  Anyway, we got to the home where they sold the milk. Momma paid the lady and I was supposed to carry the milk to the car and carefully put it on the floorboard in the backseat.  It was a good plan…almost.

The milk jugs had little handles on the top near the neck of the jug.  I picked up the jugs, one in each hand and headed to the car.  I put the jugs down on the ground and opened the back door.  Then I turned around and picked up one of the jugs and set it on the floorboard.  Then I turned around to get the second jug and put it next to the other.  You know, next is a nice word.  It means close too.  Well, I swung that ole jug through the door and well, you might say I got it just a little too close to the other one.  There was a sound of glass hitting glass and one of the jugs busted wide open and that nice fresh milk spilled all over the carpeted (remember that) floorboard.  Bummer.

Momma came over and of course was upset about the wasted milk.  I was too, but you know what they say, “There’s no use crying over spilt milk.” That is true but things were going to get worse before they got better.  I suppose we bought another half-gallon of milk and headed for the house.  Once there I did my best to clean up the spilt milk. The problem was first there was carpet and then, like they did back then, there was a thick pad underneath the carpet.  You could do what you wanted to, but there was no way all that milk was coming out of that carpet and pad.

Remember I told you that it gets real hot in North Florida.  Well, by the next morning there was a strange odor in the whole car and it just got worse and worse.  By the end of the first day the smell of sour milk made it just about impossible to sit in the car.  We already had the windows down because there was no air conditioning but even that didn’t stop the odor.  It made it better but when Momma or Daddy hit a stop light, Katie bar the door…it stunk. So for days and days our 1957 Plymouth smelled horrible. I’m pretty sure I was not winning any popularity contests for about the next two weeks. That smell lasted a long after the accident…oh boy did we hate it.

Have you ever broken a jug of milk in your car before?  Well, probably not, but let me ask you this.  “Have you ever done something wrong, something that hurt someone, something that broke someone’s heart?”  You probably know that is really what this story is about.  You see when we get all fired up and make some bad choices with big regrets it doesn’t just go away…oh not…it lingers and lingers and lingers.  And you know and I know sometimes the scar just stays forever.  I know we shouldn’t cry over spilt milk but maybe we should shed a few tears over broken hearts, hearts that we have broken.

I sure wish I had been more careful that day.  I know I was just a kid but I was old enough to be careful.  My careless behavior caused a big stink and it was a stink we all had to endure.  I think we should be more careful with our actions and our words each day.  If we would it might save a few hearts and a few big stinks.  The Bible says that we will have to give an account for every word and every action that we say or do.  Do you know what?  If I would have asked, my big sister would have helped me that day…so would Momma but I thought I could handle it.  We think that way in life too.  Why not ask for a little help from your Heavenly Father before the milk gets spilt?  He is always ready to help you carry your milk. Two things are certain…you can count on Him and always, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, gratitude, loving others, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

Three Days, Day 1

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

For this is how God loved the world: He gave His one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16

They say that God works in mysterious ways.  Last week God showed up in three very different ways on three very different days.  Now if you aren’t a God follower you might write this off as chance and circumstance, but my life and faith journeys won’t let me do that.  Regardless, sit back and enjoy the story.

If you are a Grits reader you know that my day job is leading a church.  I am the senior pastor (by position and by age) at a local church so God plays a big part of my walkabout life—both at church and otherwise.  Well, it all started on Sunday.  It was a special day because we had a guest visiting our church who works in another part of the world.  She is a good friend of ours and our church.  We have visited her and served with her several times in another country. She shared about her work at a brunch we held and also some in our services. And it was so good.

Our worship services consist of two big parts—the music part and the Word part.  The Word part is when I get to share with the folks both in the room, on the radio, Facebook Live, and YouTube.  I love it…when it goes right. Smile.  Well, this particular day, the music part was just awesome, and the sermon came together in a way that only God could orchestrate.  He was good.

We also gathered our shoeboxes for Operation Christmas Child.  If that doesn’t ring a bell just google it and you will discover one of the most purposeful things you can do to help kids and share the Good News of Jesus. Basically, you fill a shoebox with kid’s stuff, pray for that special child and then drop it off at a collection point.  Samaritan’s Purse will ship the box (about 12 million of them) around the world with the purpose of sharing the love of Jesus and making some child’s day.  It is awesome.  Well, that day we collected our boxes, all 519 of them, and the climax was our kids marching in carrying a bunch of filled boxes.  It was very good.

So, when I was giving some closing comments at the end of the service, I told the folks that this was a “trophy Sunday.” What I meant was that it was the kind of day that you put in the special part of your brain where you put memories that you don’t want to forget.  Just like a trophy reminds you of a special event, so that day was one we should keep safe because one day, someday, you just might need to be reminded that God is indeed good.

You see, not every day is a trophy day.  Not every day is going to be cloudless and sunny. There are going to be days that make you wonder “what in the world was God thinking?”  It may be one of those days when you think “how could a good God ever allow something like this happen?”  It may be one of those days that rub you wrong…like a cheap, scratchy wool sweater.  We all have them, don’t we?  When one rolls around, you simply go to your trophy shelf and remember that God is good and even that is bigger than it sounds.  You see God doesn’t just do good…He is good.  And that is true even when our world goes south.  And sometimes it will.

The biggest trophy on my trophy shelf is a bloodied, Roman cross.  It is where Jesus died a sacrificial death…not for His benefit but for ours.  His death that day paid the price for the sin, the messes, the brokenness of an entire world.  And God said if we would believe what He did and choose to follow Him, we could have His love on our trophy shelf forever.  I know in today’s world that sounds hokey but trust me, it is anything but.  Go ahead check it out, check Him out.  It is a trophy worth having. One of the best-known verses in the Bible is John 3:16. It simply says that God loved the lot of us—all of us—so much He allowed His only Son to die so that anyone who believed in Him, could live forever.  Like I said, check it out.  Hey, and watch Grits for the next couple of days for parts two and three of “Three Days.” It is a story that gives weight to the fact that, “He’s got this.” See you then. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, food, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, thankful, Thanksgiving, Trials

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 enough 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, probably 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-five 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.  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. Sound 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, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Southern born, thankful, Thanksgiving, wisdom

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 few 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 everyone came home.

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

Posted in Family, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Military memories, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Thanksgiving, travel, Trials

The Rock

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All That Glitters

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

I know how to make do with little, and I know how to make do with a lot. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being content.” Philippians 4:12a

It was a while back, but I remember it well.  I woke up to find my neighbor’s yard covered with gold.  I am an early riser.  Well, actually, I am a crazy, early riser.  Normally, my bladder and I decide it is about time to get up at around 4:30…am.  If you want to see what a quiet world looks like…try it at 4:30 in the morning.  These days the sun isn’t even close to waking up yet.  He won’t make his appearance for another couple of hours.  I usually get up, make some coffee in my magic Keurig machine, watch the weather, and have some God time. Predictable…just the way I like it.

Part of that routine is to eventually take a peek out one of the windows to see if the sun is peeking above the horizon.  Naturally that means looking to the East.  That eventful Saturday morning I did exactly that.  As I looked out the window, I noticed that my neighbor’s yard was covered with gold.  I couldn’t believe it.  What made this even more unusual was the fact that my neighbor at the other end of our alley had struck it rich too.  This was incredible.  And, if that wasn’t enough, when I was walking a few days earlier, one of my friend’s hit the jackpot.  Gold was everywhere.  Now you might think that I was jealous…but I wasn’t—not this time. You see, their yards had been “papered” as in with toilet paper. It wasn’t pretty.

Now you are wondering, “I’m just a bit confused.” You said their yards were covered with gold. That doesn’t sound like gold to me.”  Well, you’ve got a point there.  But let’s step back to last year.  COVID was all the rage.  People were doing all kinds of strange things.  When you went to the grocery store there were certain things, things that you would expect, out of stock.   Hand sanitizer was a pipe dream.  Bleach wipes were the things of legend.  Certain food items were long gone from the shelves.  It was a shopper’s nightmare.  But there was one thing that topped them all.  Toilet paper.

For whatever reason, and it still remains a mystery, people began to hoard toilet paper.  It was like gold.  People were selling it on e-bay for unbelievable prices.  There were even people on the side of the road hawking their rolls of gold for ten, even fifteen times the ordinary price.  The nightly news would show people coming out of stores with rolls of the stuff.  It. Was. Crazy. Then as people realized that this probably wasn’t Armageddon, two things happened.  The rolled gold was back in stock and the price plummeted.  People that had bought tons of this stuff as an investment of sorts were stuck holding the bag. Ha-ha…the joke…or rolls…were on them.

Now here is what was amazing.  I woke up only to discover my neighbor’s yard is covered in the very same thing that was gold.  And listen, it wasn’t the cheap stuff.  Since they weren’t home, Judy and I went over and picked up the mess…I know neighbor of the year, right?  But when we did, I realized this was “Charmin Plus” or something. If toilet paper was gold this would be 24 karat and yet there it was lying out in the yard.  Well, I guess all that glitters isn’t gold after all.

Thanks to a somewhat return to normalcy all that almost seems laughable.  Almost. There is still plenty of strangeness, but hang in there.  Don’t quit and don’t give up. The question comes to mind, in the meantime, what do we do? That’s a great question and here are a couple of answers.  First, don’t lose hope.  If I watch too much of the evening’s bad news, I find myself being convinced that life as we knew it is over.  Well, it will be different, but it is far from over.  One day, one way or the other, Mr. COVID and all his weirdness is going to pack up and leave town.  One day it will be old news.  Until then, just keep trusting…in God. One of the writers of Psalms in the Bible…someone just like you and me…wrote, “Take delight in the Lord, and He will give you your heart’s desires.” What that means is if we are willing to delight in Him suddenly the things we desire… look a whole lot like His.  And when that happens—hope explodes!

The second thing is to learn, or maybe relearn, the magic of contentment.  While our old way of doing life has taken a vacation somewhere, a chunk of it will be back.  Just like toilet paper made a comeback—so will normalcy.  Now, until that time, just sit back and be content. I like what Paul, a guy in the Bible, said, “I know how to make do with little, and I know how to make do with a lot. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being content.”  What makes that incredibly valuable is that he wrote that sitting in a stinking Roman prison.  Amazing.

Well, all that glitters is indeed not gold but all around us are golden nuggets from our Dearest Daddy.  He whispers to us that He’s still around and still in control.  Each sunrise and sunset, each new baby that bursts on the scene, each tree covered in color and glory shouts to us that we can rest in Him. Each new day is indeed a gift from Him and that is golden. Remember this…each day committed to trusting Him is a step in the right direction.  Go ahead…trust Him…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, travel, Trials

The Lone Ranger

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

“But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was. And when he saw him, he had compassion.” Luke 10:33

Who was that masked man?  Well, back in the old days…no wait…I mean the old days when the first two numbers of the year weren’t 20 but 19, there was a television show called “The Lone Ranger.”  He was a good guy, and he had an Indian (maybe that should be Native American) sidekick named Tonto.  The Lone Ranger also had a horse named Silver. In my eight- or nine-year-old mind, it was a great show—even in black and white.  The show had two famous lines.  The first was when the Lone Ranger was about to take off on his trusty horse Silver.  He would command, “Hi-Yo Silver, away.”  Invariably, the horse would rear up and off they would go.  The second famous line occurred when the Lone Ranger did his job and did away with a bad guy.  Invariably the bad guy would say, “Who was that masked man?”  It was of course…the Lone Ranger.

Well, these days, history has started repeating itself only we don’t have one masked man…we have millions.  Oh, but wait, we not only have masked men we have masked women…and boys…and girls…and babies.  Thanks to the pandemic, we all became Lone Rangers and we found ourselves asking, “Who was the masked man?”  I am certain I have unintentionally ignored several church members at the store simply because I didn’t recognize them.  Equally as bad I have carried on 15 minutes conversations with complete strangers thinking they were someone I knew.  I am totally confused.

Last year the Lone Ranger—the ultimate good guy—took on a new meaning. It wasn’t the Lone Ranger—it was the Road Ranger! We were traveling down to Gainesville, Florida to officiate at my Aunt Maryjo’s service.  She was my Daddy’s baby sister and the last of that generation.  As we crossed into Florida, we eventually hit Interstate 10 heading East.  We stopped at a rest stop because we needed to rest.  It is a long way to Gainesville, Florida.  My wife and I were stretching our legs and we walked by this cool truck.  It was some kind of official vehicle and had caution lights, big bumpers, a special receptacle on the front of the truck for jumping cars and all kinds of stuff in the back. It was a man truck only a man wasn’t driving it.

You see, on the side of the truck were the words, FDOT Road Ranger.  Beneath that it said, “A free (did you get that FREE) service sponsored by State Farm.  Standing next to the truck was a lady in a uniform.  From the signage I kinda thought I knew what it was, but I decided to ask.  “Ma’am, so do you go and help people that are broken down on the road?”  She replied they did.  If someone has a flat tire, they will help them change it.  If they have a dead battery…they will jump them.  And I suppose if you run out of gas, they have some on board to get you to the next station. Well, I told her I thought that was awesome and thanked her for her kindness.  She once again told me it was sponsored by State Farm, but I thanked her for her service to others.

I think that it is awesome that a company would sponsor a program like this.  When a traveler was at great need and when a company could take advantage of that—they offer free help.  Can you even imagine the comfort when “The Lone Ranger” showed up to help?  Can you imagine when the driver asked, “How much?” and the answer was “no charge?”  I’m telling you that is a breath of fresh air in what can be considered a stale world.

Well, Judy said, “You know, I think that would make a good story.”  I think she was right.  I mean we live in a world where so many folks are broken down beside the road of life.  They are hot, bothered, discouraged, battered, and beaten.  What if we were to become the Road Rangers along life’s road and began helping people…loving people.  Imagine the look on their faces when they realize we helped not to get paid, but rather just to help.  And, what if we were careful to make sure that they knew it was all because of what God had done for us.  Can you imagine?

I think I would like to be a Road Ranger…I mean really.  I don’t have the skill set but I do like to help people.  But what I can do and should do is be a Road Ranger on the road of life.  We all should.  You know that story in the Bible where the least likely guy helps the guy who had been beat up and robbed.  Remember how he went over the top to help?  Well, he was being a Road Ranger—do the likely for the unlikely.

So, keep this little fact tucked away in your travel log.  Should you breakdown on any major road in Florida, somewhere, not too far away, will be a Road Ranger to help you.  It is a real comfort to know that they are close by…ready and willing to help.  It’s even better knowing that Jesus is always there waiting and wanting to help all those broken down on the road of life.  Go ahead and place the call—or pray the prayer.  Let Him know you need Him, and He will be right there.  Until He arrives, just sit back and rest in the assurance that help is on the way.  Remember, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

Unexpected Treasures

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.” 2 Corinthians 4:7 (NIV)

One day, they arrived, unannounced in the mail.  I can’t remember a time when I didn’t like receiving good things in the mail.  Now, to be honest, good things don’t include everything.  Tax bills are definitely not on the good list.  But when I was a kid, we signed up to receive the “Weekly Reader.”  One day a week, during the summer, we would get this short newsletter with all kinds of cool kid’s stuff in it.  It was the highlight of my early years in the summer.  Even now, when I order something from out there in internet hyperspace, I await its arrival with great anticipation.  Of course, often, that is not via the mail but UPS or FedEx.

So, the other day, a small package arrived in the real mail.  I was not expecting anything, so I was just a little excited.  You would never guess in a hundred years what it was.  Are you ready?  It was an old pair of boy’s underwear.  What? Are you kidding?  And, no, I am not kidding.  Here are the details.  The package was from my oldest sister, Agnes.  She had recently moved and was going through stuff and tucked away she found something given to her a long, long time ago.  You see, when the Taylor girls turned sixteen, it was a tradition that they receive a “hope chest.” It was a cedar chest to put special things and other things that they might use to setup housekeeping.  Well, at least I think that is how it worked.  Anyway, Agnes is pretty sure that when she got her hope chest, Momma gave her this underwear. Now hold on…there is something coming.

She told Agnes that this underwear belonged to our Daddy when he was a boy of probably ten years old.  I’m not sure how Momma had them or why she kept them…but she did.  I can imagine when my then sixteen-year-old sister got this underwear.  I can also imagine my Momma saying, “Agnes, these belonged to your Daddy when he was a boy.  I know they don’t mean much now but later they will.”  Well, Agnes held on to them and what was in the beginning a novelty became a treasure.  Now, that underwear that my Daddy wore is right at a hundred years old.  Even as I write that I can’t believe it.  When she found them, she thought I might want them and that is how they came to be in the mail…an unannounced treasure.

There are so many things in our lives that when we first receive them, they might mean little but then something happens to charge everything. A good morning kiss becomes one of the last.  A love note left on the counter saved becomes sacred. A simple card made by your baby girl becomes the highlight of your day when it is rediscovered on the day of her wedding.  The memory of a lingering morning hug given years before carries you through a difficult day. Or a century old pair of boy’s underwear reminds you of how God blessed you with wonderful parents.  Unexpected treasures.

As we approach this season of Thanksgiving let me encourage you to look around—poke around. You might discover memories and things that magically have turned from ordinary into treasures. And then, take a moment and pause and give thanks. Take a moment and thank your Dearest Daddy in heaven for the treasure and maybe the person who made it possible. Remember the words of Paul when he wrote, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.” 2 Corinthians 4:7 (NIV) You see, not all treasure is found in gold plated boxes, sometimes it is found in common places.  Sometimes it is found in the quiet whisper from the Whisperer of heaven when He gentle reminds us, “I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne