Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Military memories, prayer, pride, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Wrong Pew–Wrong Girl

Pride leads to disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.” Proverbs 11:2

It was an oops…a big oops.  I was in my early twenties and life was good.  I was enjoying my first enlistment in the Air Force, I was stationed not far from my hometown of Jacksonville, Florida but more importantly, smack-dab in the middle of the land of grits.  I was engaged to the prettiest girl in town, and we were both Jesus followers and involved in a local church.  And that’s where it happened.

I have always loved music, and most would say that I have a pretty good singing voice. Starting when my Momma forced my oldest sister to let me sing “I Love You, Truly” at her wedding, I have had multiple opportunities to sing publicly—at least in my limited world.  Later I would be a part of a couple of singing groups and so it probably isn’t surprising that I would provide special music at our church.  So, here’s how it played out.  Things are always predictable in the services of Baptist churches.  There would an opening song, someone would give a welcome and make some announcements, we would sing two more songs, take the offering (and sometimes the word “take” was very literal), there would be a special song and then the preacher would preach.  After he got done (which could take a while) there would be a closing song and prayer. These things were so set in stone they were printed every Sunday in the bulletin.  You didn’t mess with the “order of worship.” If it wasn’t in there—we didn’t do it.

A couple of times a month I would be the one who sang right before the message.  I was usually comfortable in front of people and that turned out to be a good thing because later I would become the guy who talked for a long while.  Now even though I was comfortable singing in front of people, each time it was a little nerve racking. While I could be the life of the party, I sure didn’t want to embarrass myself in from of a couple of hundred people.  Well, one day I did…but not like you think.

On that Sunday, at the appropriate time, I went up to the stage and sang my song. I don’t remember the name of the song, but I do know it went well.  I know because it was one of those times, I left the stage smiling.  The people enjoyed the presentation, and I enjoyed presenting it.  All was well.  So, off the stage I bounded. Truth be known, I was probably feeling just a little cocky.  I should have remembered that the Bible says, “Pride leads to disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.”  But I didn’t.

My fiancée Judy and I always sat over by the wall and about halfway back in the pews. We were as predictable as the sunrise. So that is where I headed.  It was a “zippy do dah” moment and when I got to the place, I sat right down and threw my arm around the girl I loved.  Only it wasn’t. I sat there for about four seconds and realized something didn’t feel just right.  I glanced over to my right expecting to see the face of my fiancée but instead I saw the face of the preacher’s daughter. Her face was doing two things at once.  First, she was smiling and second it said, “Why are you here and why do you have your arm around me.”  Oops. I had missed my landing zone by one pew.  There’s an old saying, “Right church, wrong pew.”  It means you had the right general area but not the right exact spot. Well, in my case I had the wrong row and the wrong girl. I sheepishly stood and moved back one row.  Right row, right girl.

Are you wondering what happened? Well, gratefully Judy wasn’t mad.  I mean she could have given me the “what for” but she didn’t.  The crowd, well, as you can imagine they were laughing and if I remember correctly, it all warranted a comment from the pastor who happened to be the father of the girl. Well, it all turned out fine, but it was definitely one of those times you don’t forget.  As I think about it—I have had lots of those moments which means I have had lots of learning opportunities.

The lesson that day was, “be sure you know where you are supposed to land.”  In my “zippy-do-dah” moment I had landed at the wrong airport.  It was no deal because it was an honest mistake.  No harm—no foul.  But that’s not always the case.  Sometimes our oops, especially the intentional or semi-intentional ones, can leave a mark or two.  When you are the life of the party kind of guy it is too easy to have a laugh at someone’s expense.  I’ve learned that in life it is easy to do something on the spur of a moment that can have a long lasting “oops”.  Can someone say, “I bought a new car.”  Can someone say, “Seven years of payments.” Smile.

Well, Judy and I have been married coming up on forty-eight years and when she reads this she will remember, and odds are she will smile.  I am grateful we have lots of days that cause us to smile and far fewer of the kind that cause us to wince in pain.  That is called grace—extended and received.  So, as you navigate through life and you’re preparing to land at your selected airport—make sure it is the right one.  You might want to contact “the tower” and confirm His opinion of your intended landing site.  It might save you some embarrassment and pain.  You can always count on Him…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Three Days and a Wake Up

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted in Christmas, Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, Holidays, life, love, Military memories, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, travel, Trials

Hard Christmas

Know therefore that the Lord your God is God; He is the faithful God, keeping His covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love Him and keep His commands.” Deuteronomy 7:9

Not every Christmas is merry and bright.  I suppose if we live long enough all of us will experience a Christmas that is not so merry.  Life can be difficult and when those difficulties occur around the holidays, it can be difficult indeed.  I remember 1972 which was my first Christmas in the Air Force. I managed to get leave and fly home from Minot Air Force Base, North Dakota.  When I arrived home, the house was dark and empty.  There were no decorations, no tree.  My father had suffered yet another big heart attack and he was in the hospital recovering.  It was hard.

Another time that Christmas had a dark shadow was December 1978.  Judy and I were stationed in Sembach, Germany.  It was a great place to live, and it seemed that every day was an adventure.  We were living off base in an apartment, a short drive from the base.  Just living in a German village was an adventure in itself. The heat did not turn on until October 1 of each year, no matter how cold it was, and the heat didn’t go off until May 1, no matter how warm it was. There was no air conditioning, which we didn’t need anyway. In one of our apartments, I especially remember the small two-gallon hot water heater.  It called for a very quick shower.  Judy had long hair in those days, and it was a race to get her, and her hair washed before her two gallons of warm water were gone.

We also didn’t have a phone.  Of course, cell phones were a long way in the future and land lines were very expensive.  In December of 1978, we were sound asleep when we heard a sharp knock on the door.  It must have been about 1:00 am in the morning.  I went to the door to find the officer of the day for my squadron.  He was there to let me know I had a call from the Red Cross, and I needed to call them immediately. He followed me to the base and from my office I made the call.  The Red Cross had made arrangements for me to call my brother and sister-in-law in Florida.  The message was short and to the point.  My sister-in-law Sonia said, “Dewayne, honey, if you want to see your Momma while she is still alive, you need to come home right away.”  I was shocked.  I had no idea that she was sick—especially not that sick.

Well, when you are thousands of miles from home across the Atlantic nothing happens quickly.  But as fast as the wheels could turn and with a lot of help from the Red Cross and the Air Force, Judy and I were able to catch a transport aircraft back to the States.  It landed at Dover Air Force Base on Sunday, December 3rd. My brother, who lived in New Jersey, was able to pick us up and together we drove south to Jacksonville. It was a long day’s journey and we got there on Monday afternoon.  We went straight to the hospital and were able to see Momma for a few minutes. We then went to my brother’s house to get some rest.

That evening we gathered, visited, and prayed.  We told God that whatever He wanted was ok.  If He chose to heal Momma of that cancer, that was great but if He chose to heal her by taking her home…that was ok too.  The next day He answered our prayer.  Momma went to heaven—less than 24 hours after we got there.  It was Tuesday, December 5th and she was 62 and I was only 24.  Well, we planned the service and celebrated her life and worshiped her God and our God.  We had some family business to take care of and when that was finished, so were we.  Judy and I had enough leave approved to stay for Christmas, but the truth was, there was no reason to stay.  There was not a home place anymore, so we decided to go back to our home—in Germany.  In a few days, we were back and celebrated Christmas knowing that it would never really be the same again.

I can’t tell you it wasn’t hard because it was.  I was grateful we had a couple of weeks before Christmas, but it was still the season.  It felt strange to leave a home that wasn’t home anymore. As much as we loved Germany, we realized when we got back to the States 18 months later, there would be no going home for Christmas.  And then God, via the Air Force, planted us in Missouri for a few years and then a whole lot of years in Illinois.  He also called me to pastor so that meant Christmas was here every year.  And do you know what?  That was ok because God gave us a new family to love and care for us.  That family was His people wherever He placed us to serve.

No, every Christmas is not merry and bright and we (who have some sense of normal this Christmas) need to remember those whose life is anything but normal this year.  It may be the loss of a loved one, it may be loss of health or a job or maybe the lack of certainty for the future.  But like the Bible says, “Know therefore that the Lord your God is God; He is the faithful God, keeping His covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love Him and keep His commands.”

This year has been a harder year, as we saw in January my oldest brother move to heaven. And then in June, one of my nephews at 42 years of age also went to be with Jesus after a battle with cancer. These memories are a good reminder that we need to love one another.  We need to take the time to love and hold those whose Christmas might be hard. And, just like that night in December when my brothers and sisters came together and told God whatever He wanted for Momma was ok…we need to come together and tell Him whatever the future looks like, we will trust Him with that, too.  I’m so grateful that He is faithful, that He is good, and that He can be trusted.  And because of that, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Military memories, prayer, Scripture, thankful, Trials, wisdom

A Day That Lives in Infamy

If a house is divided against itself, that house cannot stand.” Mark 3:25

Today is December 7th.  Each year, on this date, I intentionally publish this story because of the story and the truth it shares.  We must never forget what happened that day, the ones who gave their lives nor the powerful truths that still speak to us.  I hope you will read it again, with fresh eyes and an open heart.

“December 7th.  A day that will live in infamy.” Though it was before my time I know the story well. It was a beautiful morning in Pearl Harbor.  Those who weren’t painting the ships or swabbing the decks of the powerful U.S. Navy Pacific Fleet were home enjoying a round of golf or a tropical breakfast.  And then, at 7:55 in the morning local time, without warning or provocation, bombers, fighters, and torpedo bombers of the Imperial Japanese Navy swept in.  They began to systematically destroy the American fleet and its supporting aircraft.  That morning thousands of sailors and civilians lost their lives and thousands more were wounded.  Over eleven hundred sailors died instantly when a single bomb hit the ammunition magazine on the battleship Arizona.

In an hour and fifteen minutes the attack was over, and the United States was drawn into a global war.  The nation had long been divided over what role the United States should take in the war that raged in Europe.  That was all settled when, after the attack, Japan declared war on America and Hitler as an ally of Japan did the same.  Like it or not, the United States was embroiled in a war that would last for almost four years and cost the lives of 407,316 Americans with another 671,278 wounded.  But by the grace of Almighty God, in the end, America and her Allies were victorious in defeating the tyranny of the fascist governments.

Thirty-eight percent of those who served were volunteers and sixty-one percent were drafted.  The average enlisted person was paid $71.00 per month while the average officer was paid $203.  Drafted or volunteer, officer or enlisted, they were all willing to put their lives on the line for the cause of freedom and the cause of defeating countries bent on oppressing those weaker than they.  Many valuable lessons were learned during that time—lessons that we must not forget.

First, is the power of unity.  Before the Pearl Harbor attack the nation was clearly divided over the war.  After the attack, the nation pulled together on a unified front to protect and defend—first the United States, and second, the millions of innocent people being oppressed by Germany, Japan, and Italy.  It is tragic that it took Pearl Harbor to bring the nation together but if America had entered the war divided, the outcome would have been much different.  Today, we need to understand that it is time to come together again. Jesus said that a house divided against itself cannot stand.  Neither can families.  Neither can churches.  We must come together, or we will fall together.

Second, is the power of owning it.  As in any national tragedy, the event happens and almost immediately the finger pointing begins.  Pick the historical event and the pattern is sadly the name.  Political parties and even ordinary, everyday people will use tragedy to promote their cause.  We have seen it on the national front.  We have seen it on the local front.  We have seen it in churches.  It is not a time to point fingers, but rather a time to rise to help solve what is broken.  Eighty-two years ago today, December 7, America rose to the challenge.  I wonder if we will have the wisdom to do the same today?

Last, is the power of wisdom.  There is not much debate that storm clouds were gathering in the days leading up to December 7th.  Some would say that there was blatant evidence that an attack was coming.  Sadly, those warning signs were largely ignored, and the cost was horrendous.  Today, right now, there is something we need to remember.  There is one enemy, and it is not our neighbor, not our brother or sister in church, and not even the person who belongs to another political party.  The enemy is Satan, who wants nothing more than to destroy us. Jesus said, “The thief comes to steal, kill and destroy.”  It was true when He said it…it is true today.  The second part of that verse is filled with hope. Jesus said, “I have come that you might have life and have it more abundantly.”

You see, God is for us.  He is very aware of Satan’s tricks and schemes, and He wants us to be victorious over him.  That is what Christmas and Easter were all about.  God became flesh and lived among us and then ultimately and deliberately died on a Roman cross that all people, regardless of nationality, race, or economic station, could be forgiven and have eternal life.  With the wisdom of God, we don’t have to have a “spiritual” Pearl Harbor. With God’s help we can come together.  With God’s help we can be victorious.

You see, it’s not about religion.  It is about a relationship with the God who made it all. And with the relationship comes hope, comes peace, comes forgiveness, comes unity.  If we are wise enough to believe what God says, and act on what He teaches, our best days won’t be in the rearview mirror but rather ahead.  So, this Christmas season, let the Prince of Peace bring His peace into your world.  Rest in Him.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne.

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

Disney Encounter: Standing Strong in Hard Times

I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:13

She stood against the wall in the crowded elevator.  On our trip with Disney cruise lines, there were two ways to go between decks.  You can take the elevator, or you can take the stairs.  Sometimes, maybe most times, my wife Judy and I would take the stairs.  With all the good food they served, every bit of exercise helped.  But sometimes, when we were on deck three and we were going to deck 12, we would take the elevator—and that is when I saw her.

She was probably about 45 and was using a cane. Her expression seemed to indicate that maybe just maybe she had a hard story.  Trust me, I don’t always do crazy things on elevators but this time I did.  I noticed that she was wearing a Nike shirt with the emblem for some sport, so I asked her, “So, I see you are wearing a sport’s shirt, so is that why you are using a cane?”  I know crazy, right? Sometimes I even surprise myself.  Well, what she said caught me totally off guard.  She said, “No, I was blown up in Somalia.” Ok, before I tell you what I said, let me say I meant it out of respect for her tenacity—her refusal to cave in to her circumstances.

Ok, now for what I said.  Out of my mouth came, “Wow…that is awesome.” Well, that didn’t come out right.  She replied, “Awesome…I almost died.”  Well, the elevator paused, and she was about to get off and I had about 30 seconds to explain what I meant, and I did and thankfully she fully understood. Well, the door closed but my unintentional insensitivity and my even greater respect for her service wouldn’t leave my mind.  I asked God for another chance to talk with her.  I didn’t have much hope since there were 3,000 people on the ship.  But…God honored my prayer.

Early the next morning, I was out on the top deck drinking coffee and telling God what a great job He did on the sunrise that day.  I glanced over and there, about 25 yards away, was a lady who looked like the lady.  She was heading back inside, and I almost didn’t act. What if it wasn’t her, what if I said the wrong thing again? Well, God quickly reminded me of my prayer, and I caught the lady right before she got on the elevator. It was her.

Well, I asked if she remembered me and she smiled (the smile that says, “how could I forget.”) I apologized again and she once again said it wasn’t necessary and then she told me her story. Turns out she was a Marine and was in a crowded public place doing some intelligence work when a mortar came in.  Another Marine who was with her, tried to protect her and instead pushed her right into the blast of the shell and its shrapnel. She was gravely wounded and spent too many months in rehab learning to do life again.  There’s much more to the story but the part, the Big Truth, that I want to leave with you is this—she didn’t give up and she didn’t allow it to stop her. She chose to move on.  So, she was medically discharged and though she was dealt a difficult life…like any good Marine she pressed on.

I really admired my new friend for that, and I am hoping I can learn from her. I am hoping I can remember that no matter what—we can be overcomers.  Let me encourage you to make Philippians 4:13 more than just a catchy verse in the Bible…make it your mantra.  It says, “I can do everything, through Christ, who strengthens me.” And do you know what?  We can because He can.  He is our enabling, powerful Friend who is always walking beside us.  Remember, no matter what, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

Care Packages from Home

Thanks be to God for His inexpressible gift!”

2 Corinthians 9:15

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 continues 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 both our Momma’s 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 Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel

“Firsts”

God is not a man, so He does not lie. He is not human, so He does not change His mind. Has He ever spoken and failed to act?  Has He ever promised and not carried it through?”  Numbers 23:19

Saddle up your horses, boys, this is the great adventure.  I was 23 and Judy was 19 when we got on a plane and headed to Germany to live for three years.  Of all our adventures this one was one of the most special because it was the first.  And speaking of firsts, it was a series of many firsts for us.  It was our first trip out of the United States.  As great as our three years in Germany were—it was great to finally come home.  You know they say that there is no place like home—and they are correct.

I am a gadget guy and Germany held a couple of great gadget firsts.  First, if you were in the service (USAF) and went overseas anywhere—you bought a BIG stereo.  I had speakers the size of end tables and a rack of equipment that would make any audiophile jealous.  Receiver, equalizer, cassette recorder/player, reel to reel player/recorder was just the short list of my stereo gadgetry and I was proud of every piece.   I remember coming up with different sale pitches to Judy on why I just had to have whatever was next.  I was pretty good at it too.

It was in Germany that I got my first digital watch.  One of the pilots in my squadron called me over one day and said, “Hey Sergeant Taylor, check this out.”  It was a silver Casio LED digital watch with buttons and a screen.  I was instantly enamored. “Where did you get it, sir?” was the question and the J.C. Penney catalog was the answer.  Three things happened.  First, I checked it out—$69.00 (and trust me that was a chuck of money); two, convince Judy I had to have it.  Last, order it and wait three weeks for the order to be mailed to America (no internet!) and the watch to make the return trip.  Finally, it came. That same watch is $4.99 today.  Imagine that.

It was also in Germany that I learned the wonder of the microwave and got my first one.  There was only one brand in those days—an Amana Radar Range.  This is how it happened.  A senior NCO who attended our church told me one day, “I can boil water in a paper cup.”  I said, “No you can’t” and He said “Yes, I can.”  That resulted in a trip to his house where he promptly put a paper cup in this magic machine and proceeded to boil water in a paper cup.  Done deal.  Had to have one. Amazingly, I was in the Base Exchange (the store on base) and there it was—an Amana Radar Range on clearance no less—for $370.00 dollars. Three things happened.  I convinced Judy we could not live without this modern marvel.  Two, I put it on layaway (remember that?). Lastly, I waited six weeks for three paydays to scrape up enough money to bring it home.  Finally, we did, but you know you can only boil so many cups of water before it loses its pizzazz.

There was one more first thing that we got in Germany, and it had to go into layaway too.  Midway through our last year in Germany, we learned that Judy was expecting our first daughter.  This time for this layaway was nine months.  We left Germany in August of 1980 and Rebecca Dawn was born in Missouri on January 24, 1981.  Unlike the microwave, she kept us pretty amazed day in and day out.  We were so amazed that we decided to get another one and just 19 months after we got Rebecca out of layaway, Jennifer Lynne came along.  I have to say we decided to wait a while to do that again.

The firsts didn’t stop in Germany either.  I can still remember the day we discovered something called Walmart.  We were fresh home from three years in Germany and were setting up our home in Warrensburg, Missouri.  We needed a trash can or something and went with what we were familiar with—TG&Y. It was a five and dime kind of story that we had in South Georgia.  Judy called it “Tator, Gator, and Yator.” Don’t ask me why, but it stuck.  So anyway, TG&Y didn’t have what we were looking for, so I asked a clerk to be sure we weren’t missing it.  She confirmed they didn’t have it and suggested we try the Walmart down the road.  To this day, I remember my reply, “What’s a Walmart?”  Apparently while we were gone to Germany this new store started sweeping the Midwest and then the country. In 1980, Walmart had 296 stores and today there are 11,501.  How amazing is that?

What makes life so interesting is that there is always one more first. Things change—the old moves to the rearview mirror as the next new thing appears in the windshield.  And do you know what?  I’m good with that.  But I am also glad that there are things that remain.  The other day I saw another beautiful sunset personally painted by the God of the galaxies.  It was amazing.

You see, the Bible says “God is not a man, so He does not lie. He is not human, so He does not change His mind. Has He ever spoken and failed to act? Has He ever promised and not carried it through?” The answer is No and No.  He is faithful…He can be trusted. I’m glad we have a God that doesn’t change nor change His mind.  He loves me and you today and He will love us tomorrow.  A zillion, billion years from today—He will still be loving us.  That’s good to know.  It’s good to know that tonight I will lay my head down on my pillow and rest—rest in knowing that I’m in His care.  I am not subject to circumstance, accident, or happenstance.  He holds me, and He holds you—tight.  And tomorrow I’m going to wake up—either here or in an awesome place called heaven—my final first.  Either way, no matter what, He’s got this—and that is enough. Bro. Dewayne.

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, Military memories, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

Unexpected Gratitude

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 made a random turn…into the cemetery.  One evening my wife Judy and I were out on a mission.  One of our ladies had given us some homemade ice cream and we were returning the container.  Oh, in case you are wondering, it was way beyond delicious.  It was peach and it was just peachy.  I’ve already put in a request for strawberry next.  We returned the container and just kinda started driving randomly.  As we went down the street the entrance to the cemetery came up on the right—and I turned right in.

Slowly we started driving down the lanes and just as slowly I started reading some of the headstones there.  First, though, on the left was Harrisburg’s “Little Arlington.”  It was dusk and the lights were on, and I was so impressed with all the work that went into honoring those who had served their country. It represented sacrifice. For some the ultimate sacrifice…the kind of sacrifice that means you don’t get to come home from the war.  I love what is often said, “All gave some, but some gave all.” For that, I was moved, and I was grateful.

Just down the lane was a grave that caught my attention.  It was a young soldier who went to Korea to fight for his country in what has been called “the forgotten war.”  He was 27 years old when he died on some battlefield, on some hill in a country for away.  He was fighting and ultimately died for the cause of freedom.  I was moved and I was grateful.

In several places, Judy and I would stop as we saw a headstone that was personal because we knew, we loved, the ones buried there.  Sometimes both of the names were etched there in the stone, and it symbolized two lives joined into one story.  And for both the story had concluded.  Sometimes though only one name had the start and finish dates. The other story was still being written and there was a heart longing for heaven and a long-awaited reunion.  One stone declared and celebrated 72 years of marriage.  So many of those story writers had touched our lives.  I was moved and I was grateful.

There were also stones of tragedy.  There stood the stone marking the grave of two brothers tragically killed one night by a drunk driver.  Several other stones showed lives cut short by a tragic accident.  Over there was the headstone of one of the victims from the 2012 tornado.  Everywhere were stories of people who touched the lives of others. One stone showed an American flag engraved in full color—the grave of a proud veteran.  One grave was that of a pastor and a veteran of World War II.  So many stories, so many lives, so many contributions.  I was moved and I was grateful.

As we continued around the lanes inside the hallowed grounds, we noticed there were places where whole families were buried together.  Generations of fathers and mothers, sons and daughters lay in eternal rest together.  The stones often bore nicknames and tag lines of the one who lay there.  On one grave was a tattered flag that said, “#1 Dad.” Some graves though were barely marked.  The only indication that someone lay there was a rock or a stone.  In another part of the cemetery were the pauper graves.  I have been at the graves of some where there were only two people, me, and the funeral director. No one else came. I was moved and I was grateful.

“Wait,” you say.  “How can you be grateful?”  Well, the reason is simple.  Whether it was a family plot of many generations or a solitary grave of a person when no one came—Jesus was still there.  He is the unseen attendee of every funeral.  For many He is there as Savior and Lord. For others He is there as the Sovereign Lord who wishes all to believe but knows not all will.  But He is there.  He is always there.  When we need Him, when we want Him and yes, even when we ignore Him.  I am moved and I am grateful.

When you get some time, take a slow drive through the cemetery.  It is anything but morbid…it is in fact one of the most meaningful things we can do.  You will be touched, you will be moved, and yes, somewhere along the way you will be grateful.  Let each headstone with a start and finish date be a reminder that for you there is still time.  Still time to make a difference, still time to mend a relationship, still time to finish well.  But most importantly…there is still time to believe and trust in Him.  The Book says that if anyone will call on His name…they will be saved—forgiven—rescued. No story is so bad that He can’t change the end.  Once again, I am moved, and I am grateful.

Many see the cemetery and think death.  For those who truly understand grace and Jesus they know the cemetery isn’t about death it is about life.  You learned it in Sunday School but now hear it again…like the first time.  “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever (that is you and me) calls on His name will not perish but have everlasting life.”  So, trust in Him and rest in Him.  For He has all of this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, July 4, life, loving others, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials

July 4, 1974

No one has greater love than this: to lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13

It was fifty-one years ago today.  The summer of 1972 was unlike any other summer I had experienced.  I had joined the Air Force and spent the summer at “camp” with about forty new friends.  We shared one thing in common—we had taken an oath to “protect the constitution of the United States against all enemies…foreign and domestic.”  We had also committed to obeying the orders of those appointed over us and at this point…that was everyone else but us.  We were brand new, raw recruits who knew a lot about being a civilian and virtually nothing about being in the military.  But we didn’t have to worry…our drill sergeant was taking care of that.

I arrived at Lackland Air Force Base in the early morning hours of June 13th…early as in about 2:00 am.  This was intentional because the Air Force actually wanted you to be disorientated the first few days.  I think it was supposed to make us more cooperative.  Anyway, we quickly got into a routine sporting our new haircuts and green fatigue uniforms. They kept us going from before sunrise and put us to bed even before it was dark.  That was ok too because we were wore out.

This was my first time away from home, but the schedule didn’t allow for home sickness. But all that changed one night in July.  There wasn’t a lot of free time…whether it was a Tuesday, a Friday, or a Sunday…though they did allow time for church for anyone who wanted to go.  Most of us wanted to go…not because we loved God but for a couple of hours, we could forget the grind of basic.

Back then the Air Force didn’t observe holidays either.  Of course, the only one that occurred in my time in basic was—Independence Day.  As I remember, we definitely did NOT get the day off, but I do think we got to do some extra marching…I think it was supposed to be patriotic.  Anyway, it was soon time for lights out and then it happened. I was lying in my bunk; the skies had finally darkened, and I heard a familiar sound.  It was the sound of exploding fireworks.

I eased out of bed and knelt down in front of the window. From there, I watched the fireworks display for the base explode and light up the sky. And as I watched, a wave of homesickness washed over me.  I remembered all the times that we would go to downtown Jacksonville to the riverfront and watch the fireworks together as a family.  I remembered the times we would go to a small neighborhood grocery store and sneak into the backroom where they sold illegal fireworks and load up.  I remembered and as I did I knew that this was the first of many times that being a member of the military would mean separation…and sacrifice.

Before long the fireworks were over and I went back to my bunk and after too many minutes of loneliness, drifted off to sleep.  The next morning it was back to business as usual.  The summer of ’72 passed pretty quickly and before I knew it, I was done with basic and moved on to what was next…more training…and more new adventures. And what I discovered that night, kneeling at my window in basic, came true.  There were many more days and holidays when family was far away.  But also knew it was a small sacrifice to make to serve my country.

So today, be sure and remember those who are serving, who are sacrificing, that we can enjoy our freedoms.  Remember freedom is never free and we should be thankful for those willing to make ours possible.  Jesus said, “No one has greater love than this: to lay down his life for his friends.” That is so, so true. Look, we all know America is far from perfect, but She is still the best country on the planet—remember that today too. And if you are one of those separated from family to serve, thank you and know that the One who died for you, loves you and will never leave you.  No matter what you are facing today, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, Military memories, prayer, Scripture, thankful, Trials

“Foot in Mouth” Disease -Sir

Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.” Ephesians 4:29

I just shouldn’t have said it.  We all have said things that we wish we hadn’t.  I learned a lesson about that the hard way.  I had two bumps in Air Force basic training. One involved singing…you can check that one out on my blog www.gritswithgrace.com (https://gritswithgrace.com/2020/06/01/i-said-sing/). The other one also involved my mouth…I wonder if there is trend there?

In basic training guys were assigned to a flight (group) and each flight had a dorm chief.  He was someone, a peer of sorts, the flight chief selected from within or outside the flight.  Ours was selected from outside.  He had a weight issue so was put in a special group that helped men get down to a weight level that was acceptable.  That of course meant they had to stay longer in basic.  Well, our guy, whose name was Guy, was one of those guys.  Because of his longer tenure in basic he was appointed our dorm chief.

Now it could have been a little jealousy on my side, or it could have been that I was a little judgmental or maybe I had a momentary case of the stupid’s but I said something to one of the guys about this guy.  The words are lost to time, but it was probably something like, “Who does this guy think he is? He’s not a leader…he is a loser.”  Well, anyway, something like that. I said it and forgot it assuming it just died away.  It did not.

So, apparently either that guy told another guy who told another guy who told the guy named Guy.  The guy named Guy told the guy named Sergeant Catchings who was the same guy that caught me singing.  Well, things were about to go south.  There was a lesson that needed to be taught and I was the object of that lesson.

Sergeant Catchings gathered the flight outside his office and, leaving the door open sat down at his desk.  We all were like, “What’s this about?”  I quickly found out it was about me.  Soon a booming, “you’re in deep weeds son” voice said, “Airman Taylor, get in here.” I got up and went in the office and he instructed me to close the door.  I stood smartly at attention in front of the desk. Sergeant Catchings harshly invited me to take a seat.  There was no chair.

He had me place my hands flat on his desk and then squat by bending my knees till my arms were parallel with the top of his desk. Three things immediately came to my mind.  One, what in the world have I done? Two, this is very uncomfortable.  Three, I’m going to die.  Well in about one minute I found out that Dorm Chief Guy had told him I was mouthing off.  I had broken a cardinal rule…don’t mouth off about those in leadership above you.

Sergeant Catchings jumped to his feet and began to lecture me about respect for leadership and how I should never, ever disrespect those put in authority over me.  Now don’t forget.  One, I still “sitting” in the invisible chair with my hands on his desk.  Two, the entire flight is outside the door.  And by now he is screaming at the top of his voice.  For added effect, he would occasionally walk over to the door and kick it or slap it making it sound like I was dying.  I was.

Finally, after about ten or so minutes he opens the door and says two words, “Get out.” Imagine 27 guys looking in the office and seeing me squatting with my hands on the desk.  I can’t move.  I am locked in place.  My muscles leg and arm muscles were frozen.  He said it again, LOUDER, “I said get out.”  So, I fell over and managed to crawl, yes, I said crawl, out of his office. I was in agony and the rest of the guys were in shock and we all learned a lesson about gossip and respect for authority.

The lesson that day was very valuable. I wish I could tell you that I learned it so well I never had the “stupid’s” again but that wouldn’t be true.  But I can tell you this.  There is a reason the Bible talks so much about the tongue and the mouth. It isn’t a matter of finding a verse…it is a matter of choosing a verse.  We can start with a little nugget found in Proverbs 21:23, “Watch your tongue and keep your mouth shut,

and you will stay out of trouble.” I wish I had remembered that one before I uttered the words that prompted my visit to Sergeant Catchings office.

But the one that probably says it best is this, “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.” Imagine how less complicated our lives, our families, our marriages would be if we mastered that one.  Imagine how our work lives and even our worship lives would change.  A pastor once said that if we knew we would have to personally apologize to every person we slandered or gossiped about, we probably would hit “pause” a lot more often.

Oh well, I’m sure glad we have a graceful God.  I have learned over the years to deeply value his patience with me and His mercy for me.  There have been too many times I’ve had to go to my Dearest Daddy and have a chat about “foot in mouth” disease.  I’m glad He graciously invited me to come sit close beside Him. He has always heard my confession and honored my repentance.  I find rest right there…next to Him…because He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne