prayer – Page 55 – Grits with Grace

Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, missions, prayer, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, wisdom

Miracle (or not) of the Bag

Posted on February 22, 2021February 21, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

For nothing will be impossible with God.” Luke 1:37

There was no way. We were once again on our way to West Africa. This particular trip was a medical trip, and they were always the most fulfilling. The needs in the Sub-Saharan region of West Africa are always mammoth. Since water is always a problem that means food is too. But second to that is the need for medical care. Though health care is very reasonable compared to here in America…the bottom line is the people are just extremely poor and often the care they need is simply not available. That is particularly true in the fringe desert regions of Niger.

This wasn’t a large team but is was a great one. We were all friends and several of us were Africa mission trip veterans. For one in particular, this was her first trip and she handled it like a real trooper. On the morning we were to fly out, Judy and I went by to pick up one of our team team members named Rhoda (her name has been changed to protect the innocent). She attended our church and is a good friend of ours. Rhoda has one of the most merciful and loving hearts of anyone I know. If she has any capacity to help…she will. Now we had had a couple of team meetings to go over the general expectations including customs, the number of bags you could carry, and very specifically, the weight allowance for each bag…which is fifty pounds. Not fifty-two or fifty-one—fifty pounds.

When we arrived at Rhoda’s house, the air was electric with excitement. Since I was the only guy from Harrisburg, I was quickly assigned the role of “pack horse.” In other words—I got to carry the luggage to the car and load it. Well, I went into Rhoda’s house and picked up the first bag. I’ve done this enough that I can tell just about how much a bag weighs. This one was just about on the money. I went to the car and chucked it in the trunk. I went back to get bag number two and as I went to get it—it seemed to be nailed to the floor. With some effort, however, I was able to lift it off the floor—barely.

It was about that time that Rhoda walked into the room. I asked her, “Rhoda, did you weigh this bag? It feels a “little” heavy” (I was being extremely generous.) She assured me that the bag was ok and so with some grunting and groaning, I kinda lifted and kinda slid the bag out the door, down the sidewalk and to the car. Again, with considerable effort I managed to hoist the bag into the trunk. All this while I’m going, “Man, this bag feels heavy…but hey…she said…” So, with the luggage on board and people seat-belted in, off we went to the airport where we met our final team member. When we arrived, we got one of those carts to help with the luggage. We needed it.

Again, with considerable effort, I soon had the bags on the cart, and we headed inside to get checked in. Judy and I went first. We checked our luggage—fifty pounds each thank you—got our boarding passes and we were set. Rhoda was next. Her first bag was right at fifty pounds. Go, Rhoda, Go. I lifted the suspicious bag on the scale and watch with amazement (I think that is the right word) as the scale zinged up toward the sky and stopped at…sixty-five pounds…fifteen pounds over the limit. Well, you can probably imagine my expression and explanation. “Rhoda” I said, “what in the world? I thought you said the bag was ok.” “Well, pastor,” merciful Rhoda explained, “I was praying for a miracle.”

I don’t remember if we laughed, cried, or both but two things were sure. First this was one miracle that God chose not to give us. Second, the clerk wasn’t a fan of grace—at least not fifteen pounds worth, anyway. We took the bag off the scale and placed it on the floor to lighten it up. Fortunately, some friends had hung around and they were going to be able to help us with the excess stuff. And here is the picture of Rhoda’s beautiful heart. People had donated and she had gone to Bath and Body and bought those West African ladies… bottles and bottles and tubes and tubes …of all kinds of lotions and creams. She knew they needed it for their dried-out desert skin and wanted to bless them.

Well, we had to remove fifteen pounds of Bath and Body and leave it with our friends. But don’t worry—there were still fifty pounds of blessings left. Almost the entire bag wasn’t for Rhoda—it was for her new friends in West Africa. And do you know what? The whole trip was just one big blessing. We were able to provide free medical care to so many people and shared stories from the Bible with many others. When it was all said and done—we were blessed and humbled and God was made big. We didn’t get the miracle of the bag with the Bath and Body items, but we did get the miracle of changed hearts—ours.

The Bible tells us that nothing is impossible with God and I believe that to my core. That doesn’t mean that we always get exactly what we want or the way we want it. It does mean that in the end—it will all work out. I think by and large that is one of the lessons we have learned through this COVID hot mess. We have learned, or are learning, that if we will just leave it to Him…He will handle it, in His way and His time. Always, always—He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials, wisdom

A Morning Nightmare

Posted on February 18, 2021February 17, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.” 2 Corinthians 1:4

It was the thing that nightmares are made of. I wasn’t there for this, but trust me I have lived it over and over again with my wife, Judy. Let me tell you the story. When she was four or five years old, her father and mother went to work and so she had a babysitter that lived close by. It was a regular routine. Simple. Simple and routine till one day it wasn’t.

On the first day of school, the babysitter and her friend were taking the kids to school. The kids were entering first grade, there was no kindergarten. After they had dropped the kids off, it was back to her house again. If you’ve ever been to Valdosta, Georgia you need to know multiple times at multiple locations train tracks would cross the roads and highways. Just a few miles from the grade school was a pulpwood plant and often trains would drop off logs to be made into paper. On that particular morning, after leaving the school, the car approached this train crossing. In the early 60’s, many of the crossings didn’t have lights or gates and this was one of those. As the car approached the crossing, that’s when it happened.

It was not unusual for trains to just stop short of the crossing and sit there. As the car approached the crossing there was a train and the young lady who was driving assumed it was just waiting as they often did. Unfortunately, she was wrong. As the car neared the crossing and proceeded onto the tracks, she realized that the train was in fact moving—slowly—but moving. In a panic she thought she was pressing the gas pedal, when in fact she pressed the brake—stopping the car dead on the track. As if in slow motion, the train hit the car and slowly, methodically pushed it down the tracks. Even at such a slow speed, it took a while for the train to stop. The damage was extensive.

The collision was not without consequences and injuries. The lady in the front passenger seat where the train hit received two broken arms. The girl behind the passenger seat had a broken leg. The driver literally had a nervous breakdown. Thankfully, four-year-old Judy was only knocked to the floorboard where she tried her best to hold on to the “hump.” While everyone was taken to the hospital, gratefully the injuries, though serious, were not life threatening. As often is the case in situations like this, not all the injuries were physical.

When I met Judy in 1974, she was sixteen and full of fun and life. Because she lived on the other side of most of the tracks, we would often have to cross them. While never in a dangerous way, if I heard a training coming, I would speed up to make it across the crossing. I still remember the fear that came across her face. Each time it happened, she was reliving what happened. The accident still deeply affected her emotionally. Even if there was a crossing guard with lights, she would tense up, even though I was slowing down to a stop. What happened that morning 12 years earlier left lifelong scars.

At first I didn’t really understand and thought perhaps, just perhaps, she was overreacting. But it didn’t take years, or months or even more than a couple of weeks, for me to realize that for her…this was a big deal. I also quickly realized that I owed it to her, this young woman I loved, to be very careful around train tracks. It didn’t scare me one bit, but it did scare the one I loved, the one I cared for.

So, can I ask you a question? Is there someone in your life, in your world that you care about that might need a bit of special consideration? Is there someone who has a life experience that has left them scarred or wounded? Divorce? Tragedy? Abuse? Death? Illness? Prejudice? You see, in our very imperfect world, you don’t have to travel far to find the wounded and the broken. And what isn’t a big deal to you, might be a tsunami of emotions and difficult memories for someone else. And honestly, we need to be sensitive. We need to care. Jesus did that so well. The Bible tells how God cares and comforts us in our trouble so we can care and comfort those we meet in our daily walkabout life.

So, if you bump into someone’s world and they seem to act differently in a certain situation, why not precede with caution? Why not be the one that brings comfort and understanding to their fractured moment? You could be the one that finally brings healing and peace in their world. Judy is much better now. But if there is an unguarded crossing and a train whistle in the distance, you can bet I still slow down and check the situation out. Judy, well, she knows this guy loves her enough to do exactly that. And, by the way, there is a Dearest Daddy who loves His kids even more than that. And no matter how your world is scarred or rocked…rest assured, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, Southern born, wisdom

Miracles and Concubines

Posted on February 16, 2021February 15, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

Then Abraham fell on his face and laughed and said to himself, “Shall a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old? Shall Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a child?” Genesis 17:17

I quit just a little too soon. I think there must have been this line in heaven where all the babies wait to be assigned dads, moms, skills, and bodies in heaven. I can just imagine me standing there waiting. I am watching as all the boy babies make it to the front and they are soon on their way with these bodies that are destined to be tall and muscular. They make the jump to earth and their new homes just waiting to grow up and become the next Babe Ruth or Michael Jordan. I can also imagine my turn at the front of the line and Saint Peter saying something about sports and I miss understood and thought he said something about ketchup, and I said, “Sure, I’ll take a squirt.” Anyway, I arrived on earth a little shorter than average and not a sports bone in my body. I should have listened closer.

All this became pretty apparent when it came to choosing teams. Whether it was kickball, volleyball, basketball, dodgeball, or baseball, when the teams were chosen I was near the end of the line. As far as school sports, well, there were hundreds of kids in the schools I attended and trust me no one ever offered me a contract. The only place I had a measure of success was, of course, at church. I managed to make the church softball team though it was the “B” team. We did play tackle football after our Bible study time on Wednesday nights and there I made a name for myself. One of our teachers was named Eddie and he was, well, one large man and no one could tackle him, so they called him “Big Eddie.” While I wasn’t nearly that large, I was harder to tackle so I gained the name “Little Eddie.” Hey, when you are nameless in the world of sports, you will take anything.

My only foray into “professional sports” was Little League baseball when I was about 9 or 10. I don’t remember if I actually made the team, or if everyone made the team. Regardless, we were called the Gators and we, or rather they, were pretty good. Again, I had absolutely no talents in baseball, so I was assigned to right field on the rare occasions that I got to play. I was the kid who prayed a lot during the games. It wasn’t that I was particularly spiritual—it was emotional survival. First, I would pray that they wouldn’t play me and then, if they did, I would pray that no one would hit the ball to right field. It didn’t work. Invariably someone would and well, it wasn’t good.

Then, of course, there was the batting thing. Did you know that there are players who actually say they can see the stitches on the ball as it comes toward them? Did you know there are players who actually know when and how to swing? Can you guess I wasn’t one of those players? Nope, the pitcher would pitch, and I would wonder where the ball was. That wasn’t pretty either. So, the sad (you are feeling sorry for me by now, aren’t you) bottom line is that one day I just refused to go to practice. I made it through about three quarters of the season and I just gave it up—I quit.

Well, guess what? It turns out that even without me, the Gators ended up winning the championship. Yup, they sure did. I remember, the coach came by my house one evening and he was carrying a trophy. He said that the team had won it all and even though I hadn’t finished the season, he wanted me to have a trophy. I probably mumbled something about quitting because I was hit by a semi-truck and thanked him for bringing the trophy by. The truth was there was no excuse—I just quit. And the other truth is because of that, the trophy meant absolutely, the grand total of—nothing. I didn’t earn it and I didn’t deserve it. Not because I wasn’t good, but because I didn’t finish.

I really don’t have a lot of regrets life but that is a small one I do own. I’m ok with not being tall and gifted in sports, but I’m really not ok with being a quitter. Not then—not now. If I would have waited, I could have been a champion, but I didn’t wait it out. You know there was a guy in the Bible who had the same issue. God had promised him a son, an heir. The only problem was he and his wife were old—really old. In fact, when God told him he was going to have a son, this guy fell on his face and laughed and said, “Shall a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old? Shall Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a child?”

Instead of believing God, he decided to do things his way or really Sarah’s way. Since she couldn’t conceive, they opted for a concubine rather than wait on the miracle. What a bad idea. He and the concubine did have a son, but it wasn’t the son God had promised. It really didn’t go well…and sadly it still isn’t going well. Much of the conflict in that part of the world stems from this one man. Oh, the consequences.

Oh, and by the way, guess what? When they were both older than dirt, Sarah, his wife, did in fact conceive and the promised son was born. God came through after all—surprise, surprise. If only they had finished the season…if only they had waited, how different things would have been. The good news is that God kept His word and blessed Abraham beyond his wildest dreams. You see even though Abraham quit believing, God never quit believing in him…and He won’t quit believing in you either. I like that…actually, I love that. Regardless of what you are waiting on, just hang on…just be patient, just wait and see what God has in mind. He’s never late and He’s never early, He’s right on time because He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, Trials, wisdom

A Memorable Funeral

Posted on February 12, 2021February 11, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

Be prepared, whether the time is favorable or not.” 2 Timothy 4:2

It was years ago and something that I will never forget. I am a pastor and that often gives me the opportunity to help people at some of their hardest moments. Over the last 38 years I have officiated at hundreds of funerals. Some of them were tragic and some of them were celebrations of life. Regardless…they were all difficult. I believe that every service should be as personal as I can make it. I heard a story once of a pastor who was asked to do a service for a man he didn’t know well. Unfortunately, he kept calling the gentleman by the wrong name. Finally, in sheer desperation, his wife shouted out, “John, his name is John.” Gratefully, I have managed to avoid something like that thus far. But there was one funeral I will never forget.

I said earlier that I am a preacher…a pastor. Well, I happen to be a singing pastor. You see, long before I started preaching, I was singing. I’m certainly no Frank Sinatra, but I can carry a tune. That led to opportunities to serve families in another way. When the funeral home needed a vocalist, I would sometimes get a call. One day…the call came. I was to sing a couple of songs…one at the beginning and one midway through the service. So, my time came…no pun intended…and I sang my first song and then the second. An older pastor was speaking and he was really into the sermon. As the vocalist, I was sitting in a side room where I couldn’t see him, but I could see the audience. And then…it happened.

As I said he was preaching hard, and all of a sudden two things happened in a split second. First, a moment of silence. It went from “Katie bar the door” to dead silence. Then, in a moment of time, there was something that sounded like a clap of thunder—literally. And finally, there was the sound of chaos—-people screaming and crying. It was a very frightening moment. Immediately I stood up and looked into the room where the preacher was lying on the floor. It seems as he was preaching, he suffered a massive heart attack, fell on top of the folding pulpit which then caused it to collapse. That was the clap of thunder.

The funeral home folks called 911 and they quickly arrived and carried him out. I’m not sure if he passed right there on the floor or in the ambulance, but he didn’t make it. When they had left with him, I wondered what in the world do you do now? The funeral director came over and said, “Dewayne, can you finish the service?” I told him I could if he would get me a Bible. The preacher’s Bible was still laying there so he picked it up and gave it to me and we finished the service. It was one of the strangest things I have ever witnessed—especially at a funeral. As a side note, in a day or so, the funeral home called and asked me to do the service for the pastor who had died, and it was my privilege to do so.

I would suppose that there are a lot of lessons that can be learned from this but the big one is—we need to be ready. We need to be ready to step into any situation that might arise. There is a verse in the Bible that says we should be prepared whether the time is favorable or not. That is good advice. We never know when we will have an opportunity to make a difference in someone’s life. I don’t know exactly how well I did finishing the funeral that day, but I hope I was able to bring some peace into a crazy chaotic moment.

There’s also another lesson—another truth—from this story. We should be prepared to step into eternity. When we think of death, we often think we will all live well and long, die easy, and go to heaven. The truth is we just don’t know how long we will live, but we can all be prepared. I like what a friend of mine said one time. He said, “I’m prepared to go to heaven, I’m just not ready to go.” He was just saying that he was prepared to go to heaven he just wasn’t ready to get on the next bus. I’m sure the pastor who was speaking that day was prepared, but he probably didn’t have any idea that he would board the bus right then.

The good news is that because of the Good News, we can all be prepared. Because of what Jesus did on a Roman cross two thousand years ago, we can know that we are going to heaven. It’s not about religion or church—it is about faith in Him dying and coming back to life three days later. It is about believing that He was who He said He was, that He would do what He said He would do, and about repenting and trusting in Jesus as the Way to eternal life with God. If you haven’t made that commitment, I’m hoping you will. Google it and check it out—check Him out. The Boy Scout motto is “Be Prepared” and I hope you are. When it comes time for us to board the bus, we can have the confident assurance that He will be there. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

forgiveness, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Trials

Drop the Rocks

Posted on February 11, 2021February 10, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.” John 8:7

It kinda made me mad. I know there are a multitude of things in the world that make us mad and there are also degrees of madness—boy is that a play on words. There is a little mad, some mad, half mad and downright mad. Well, anyway, I was just a little mad. Back on the first Monday in January, I started walking again for exercise. Since the weather is so unpredictable, I decided to just use the treadmill. It isn’t as good as the outdoors but you sure can work up a sweat. So, five or six days a week I have my date with “the mill.” I have a television mounted right in front of me to keep my mind busy while I walk. With all the new streaming services there is a lot to watch.

One of my favorite things is something called “Aerial America.” They take a particular state and with a drone and/or helicopter they fly all over the state and shoot video. It is very interesting and stunning but there was a problem. Because it was filmed from the air, I had a hard time staying on the treadmill. They would go up and down, left and right and I was all over the place with them. You know…where you stare you steer. Maybe I needed to find something else to watch while walking on the treadmill. I decided it would be a great opportunity to get some good Bible teaching, so I started watching services from some of the guys I like. It has been very profitable.

Different guys have different styles and I always try and pick speakers that stay close to the Bible and there are a couple that have large ministries and by and large do a great job teaching. Now, I never agree with everything that every speaker says. In fact, I teach every Sunday and guess what? I don’t always agree with me. It’s just a fact of life so if you teach publicly get ready for someone to say something. I get that. But then there was this morning.

As I was looking for something to watch from one of the guys I follow, I saw something that just about made me mad. Some no-name guy, a pastor, teacher posted a video calling this nationally known speaker a “false teacher.” Well, I didn’t watch his video because it wasn’t worth my time. But I wondered exactly what caused him to say that this guy wasn’t the real deal. Now again, I don’t always agree with everything this teacher says nor how he says it but “false teacher?” I don’t think so. He leads one of the largest evangelical churches in America. He teaches the Bible and at the end of every service he has a time for people to act on what they heard and specially, to act on an invitation to accept Jesus’ invitation to follow Him. He gives an old-fashioned altar call.

Oh, and one other amazing thing. Everything this church produces, sermons, curriculum, music, you name it—they give it all away for free. His church could make a zillion dollars but instead with incredible generosity they just give it away. I find that amazing. So, what’s up with the dude who made himself judge and jury? If I were to take a guess it would probably be jealousy. When someone is successful some people just assume that they are fake or false. It seems the more successful a ministry is, the more people cast stones. Cast stones…hmmm. It seems like Jesus had something to say about that. Remember?

There was a woman in the Bible taken in the very act of adultery. The Pharisees (we won’t go there) dragged her out in public in front of Jesus and declared, “Moses said we should stone this woman. What do you say?” First, and always, don’t mess with Jesus. You will lose. But Jesus stooped down and wrote something in the sand, (we don’t know what), and then said, “Okay.” Well, that wasn’t all He said. The rest rattled their bones. He said, “Okay, but the person without sin needs to cast the first stone.” You could hear a pin drop, but then you would have heard something else—the sound of rocks falling to the ground. And, beginning with the oldest to the youngest, they left—all of them. Jesus looked at the woman and said, “Where are your accusers?” They had skedaddled. And here’s the best part. The One who was left, Jesus, the One who could condemn her—didn’t. Amazing.

I know it is our natural tendency to chuck rocks but don’t you think maybe it is time to let the rocks fall. Whether you are a Jesus follower or not, chucking rocks is a dangerous game. Those rocks can act like boomerangs—and that will definitely leave a mark. Should we practice a discerning spirit? Absolutely. But rock chucking has nothing to do with discerning—it has to do with a judgmental spirit. I know, those rocks can be hard to drop sometimes but I know someone who is good at dislodging them from our sticky hands. His name is Jesus, and you can take it to the bank, He’s got that too. Bro. Dewayne

Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, wisdom

Dinner on the Grounds

Posted on February 10, 2021February 9, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, I am grateful for all the good food and other things that happen at church. But I am really grateful for God, my Dearest Daddy, loving me that much and remember, He loves you that much too. If you want to know more, I hope you will get a copy of His Book the Bible—it’s been a best seller for centuries—really. If 2020 taught me anything, it’s that it is a great idea to have God on your side. It’s just good to know that He is there and will be there no matter what. No, He isn’t Santa Claus just waiting to give you everything on your list. No, He isn’t a Genie just waiting for you to rub His lamp. He is God, He is real, and He wants to make a difference in your world. Why not give Him a try? You’ll find that no matter what you face, He will face it with you. I’ve learned that every day, no matter what, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, life, prayer, Scripture, thankful, travel, Trials, wisdom

Light at the End of the Tunnel

Posted on February 4, 2021February 3, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

I have come as a light to shine in this dark world, so that all who put their trust in Me will no longer remain in the dark.” John 12:46

There’s light at the end of the tunnel. I have heard that saying all my life (well, at least a chunk of it). But the truth is the light at the end of the tunnel just might not be enough. You see, about 20 miles from where we live, there is a bike trail with a tunnel that is 543 feet long. It’s located in beautiful Southern Illinois. Oh, I know, I say beautiful and Illinois in the same sentence and all people can think of is flat corn fields and Chicago. But tucked away in what we call the “real” Southern Illinois are many trails with beautiful hills and rock bluffs in the Shawnee National Forest.

Tunnel Hill Trail is a gem in our area and perhaps the highpoint of the trail is its tunnel. Our church has an annual bike ride that begins at the tunnel. At its peak we would have over a hundred riders—big and little, young, and old. What makes it even better, the small town of Vienna (where we have our picnic) is only ten miles or so from the tunnel and that part of the trail is either flat or slightly downhill. I told the church riders that, but I’m sure after riding it they thought I might have stretched the truth. Well, maybe a little. But the truth is—ten miles on a bike seat is still ten miles on a bike seat.

I have learned over the years to respect every foot of the tunnel there. As you enter the tunnel, two things are apparent. One, there is plenty of light. So, it is easy to assume that there will be plenty of light all the way through. That would be a mistake. Second, you might assume that since you can see the “light at the end of tunnel” that would be enough to get you through. Uh, that would be a mistake too. Let me describe it…though words really can’t do the job. You have to experience it.

Whether you are riding your bike or walking, as you enter the tunnel you really do think, “Oh this isn’t too bad.” There is plenty of light and of course, you can clearly see the light at the end of the tunnel. Slowly, very slowly, almost without noticing, the light fades away and suddenly, just shy of halfway, you find yourself in total, eerie, darkness. What seemed so easy now seems increasingly difficult. Even with the light at the end of tunnel, you can’t tell where you are going. You think you are in the middle of the trail when in fact you can easily be heading straight for the walls. Over the years, everyone who has ridden with our group has made it through the tunnel. It’s just that some of them came out with a few bruises and scrapes…courtesy of “the walls.”

Well, after about a hundred feet, light slowly starts appearing around you and before long the light pouring in from the end of the tunnel envelopes you…and you are glad. I’ve even ridden in the tunnel with a flashlight and it still seems difficult. You see, light at the end of the tunnel or not, darkness is difficult. You simply lose all sense of where you are. That is true in tunnels…and it is true in life. Too often we are faced with choices and decide that we can handle what our common sense tells us is a bad idea. We enter the tunnel with plenty of light and assume we have escaped the blight of our choice. Only later do we see what we couldn’t see—the consequences of our decision. Only when we “hit the wall” do we understand the pain of our decision. It is only after we emerge back into the light that we can see the wounds from the walls and realize the scars that we will bear.

Life will have its valleys and not all tunnels in life are caused by our misguided choices, but the good news is regardless—we can find help. Imagine what it would be like to take sunlight with us into the valleys—into the tunnels of life. What if the deepest valley and the darkest tunnel could be lit as noon is on a sunny day. Well, it can. You see, there is a light that defies darkness and is brighter than the sun—in fact, it is the Son. Two thousand years ago a Man was born that claimed…and proved…that He was the Son of God and His name is Jesus. Have you ever wondered why this simple carpenter from an obscure village in the Middle East commands center stage on the stage of history? The reason why? He is the real deal. The Bible describes Him as the Light of the world…and He is. And when a person follows Him, he walks in His light.

Jesus said, “I have come as a light to shine in this dark world, so that all who put their trust in Me will no longer remain in the dark.” That is a claim, a promise, worth checking out. When we were kids a lot of us were afraid of the dark. As adults most of us have outgrown that fear, but we still have reason to fear the phantoms of the dark…things that are bigger than us. Jesus drives the darkness and phantoms away when we chose to follow Him. He’s waiting right now to bring light into your life…your tunnels. When we find ourselves in our darkest moment, you will hear the Whisperer whisper, “Fear not…I’ve got this. And He does. Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials, wisdom

My Cussing Summer

Posted on February 2, 2021February 1, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus.” Romans 8:1

It was the summer of my rebellion. I know, some people are born compliant and some are born a little on the rebellious side. I was born compliant. I have always been a rule keeper—well, at least most of the time. I suppose that is why I took to religion so well. You see religion is all about keeping the rules. The idea is if you keep enough of the rules then people will like you and most importantly, God will like you. And sure enough, it worked—well, at least part one worked. In my younger years, most of the adults thought I was a good boy. Church? Got it. Drinking? Not a drop. Drugs? Nope. I can hear them saying it now, “That Dewayne is such a nice boy.” And, I suppose outwardly I looked pretty good, but pretty good won’t get you to heaven.

You see the second part of the religion mantra is that you can make God happy by performing—by keeping the rules. That one is 100% false. There is no one, except Jesus, that was good enough to go to heaven. Yet it seems so many church people say they believe that rules won’t get you to heaven, but act as if they will. They carefully do this and that and boy, if you happened to be one of the ones who didn’t keep the rules, you were tried, convicted and sentenced. That’s why I had to keep my cussing summer quiet.

I think maybe all the rule keeping must have finally got to me. The bottom line is during the summer between my junior and senior years of high school—I started cussing. I had a job at an apartment complex down the road from our house and I worked with the son of the head maintenance man. He was not a Jesus person and he did like to cuss. So, one day, I just started cussing too. I had heard enough cuss words at school to know most of them, so I didn’t have to have any lessons…though I did have to work on my voice inflections.

It was a very tricky time in my life because I had to turn the cussing on at 8:00 am and I had to be sure and turn it off at 5:00pm. That’s what you have to do when you are living a double life. Under no circumstances did I want to spoil my good boy image at church or with my Mama and Daddy. I do remember one time I let a small one slip and Mama looked at me with eyes that said, “Where did that come from?” Of course, I didn’t, I couldn’t let her know that her baby son was a cusser.

And, as quickly as it came, it passed. At the end of the summer, I had to go back to school and therefore had to quit my job. All I know is that the cussing stopped and my rule keeping world got a little easier. I managed to please a lot of people, but I knew I was far from pleasing God. It would be several more years before I finally figured out that rule keeping didn’t work and religion didn’t either. When I was 21, I finally found grace and boy was that a game changer. Honestly, it is taking me a long time to shake the deep roots of rule keeping and religion. I’m still working on it.

You might ask, “How do you know if you are under the influence of religion and rule keeping?” Well, its two main indicators are self-condemnation and a tendency to judge others. Rule keepers are acutely aware when they or others around them break a rule. Rule keepers (and religious people) like to point out other people’s sins and faults because it makes them feel better about themselves. If they can make you feel bad, then it makes them feel better. It’s a pretty twisted world.

God’s way is so much better than religion and rules. Did you know His Book, the Bible, actually says that when someone believes in Jesus and becomes one of His followers that there is no condemnation—none—nada? I mean when the prosecuting attorney and the judge both acquit you—the trial is over. I’m slowly learning just how valuable that is. There is an audience of One that Jesus followers have to live for and that is God…their Heavenly Father…their Abba Father…their Dearest Daddy. I love what Toby Mac (a contemporary Christian singer) said, “I gave God a million reasons not to love me. Not one of them changed His mind.” I like that!

Well, I’m glad my cussing summer is ancient history. I still look back at those two or three months and wonder what in the world was I was thinking? The truth is…I probably wasn’t. But now, by grace, that, and all my other failures, warts and sins are forgiven…all because of Jesus. I’m so grateful for that. If you have never discovered grace and forgiveness, especially God’s kind, I hope you will check it out. Don’t get confused with religion and rule keeping like I did. God’s got something far, far, better than that. Think you’ve messed up too much to be forgiven? Nope…don’t give it a second thought. Trust me…He’s got this.

Family, fear, gratitude, life, loving others, missions, prayer, thankful, travel, Trials

Praying Mantis

Posted on February 1, 2021January 31, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

When you’re in over your head, I’ll be there with you. When you’re in rough waters, you will not go down. When you’re between a rock and a hard place, it won’t be a dead end—because I am God, your personal God, the Holy of Israel, your Savior.” Isaiah 43:2-3a

He was coming after me. Over the years, my wife Judy and I have made many trips to Africa. We have spent time in Niger, Mali, and Uganda. All were unique in their own way and all were very special. Our time in Mali was especially so. We were working with one of our favorite missionaries. She is the real deal kind—the kind that if you were to stick her finger…she would bleed Jesus. Those trips were also highlighted because we worked with a group of One-Story girls. These college age young ladies gave up the comforts of home to spend a couple of years living in the African bush telling people about Jesus. They were incredible.

So, on one of these trips the team had one of those especially good days. We were able to minister and share with a lot of folks. We would start early and go the entire day. We would do mostly medical missions and story-telling and encouraging. When we got back to wherever we were staying we would have supper together. Then, when the African sun had finally called it a day, we would gather under a large open air bamboo….uh, thing. We would sing, share stories and have a brief devotion before joining the sun and calling it a day too.

These team times were very special moments. As the days passed, we as a team became closer and closer together. There were about twelve or fourteen of us…so not too large. Of course, that didn’t include other guests. Sometimes Africans from where we were staying would join us, and of course some or all of the interpreters. And then there were the other guests. Their names would make you think they were members of the team…but they weren’t. Praying may have been part of their name but, it wasn’t on their agenda. They were…praying mantis.

These large insects—about the size of a small eagle—would be drawn to the light as we sang and shared. Slowly they would start circling, choosing their targets. Now, I don’t know if they intended to bite someone—I don’t think so, or if they intended to carry someone off to their secret lair. Regardless, it was just a little spooky. Finally, and who knows why, I was picked by one of them. Repeatedly, this fellow would dive and try to land on me—particularly my face. Ok…it was weird. I was grateful when the prayer time was over. I confess I cheated and kept one eye open looking out for my new found friend.

Judy and I headed back to our hut and prepared for bed. We had a mosquito net over our bed to keep out those pesky insects and their friends. Soon it was lights out and off to sleep. Sometime later, we were awakened by the sound of something larger than a mosquito. Lion? No. Tiger? No? Elephant? No. It was the…praying mantis. Apparently, he followed me home and waited for the lights to go out before once again taunting me. It turns out there was a small hole in the top of our mosquito net and he found his way in and then…it happened.

As Judy and I lay in the African night, from out of the darkness (no electricity) the praying mantis landed square on my face. Now what happened next can’t be written because it goes beyond the 26 letters in the English alphabet. I jumped up and started clawing in the darkness trying to find my stalking insect. I finally grabbed him (gross), wrestled him to the bed (remember they are the size of eagles…smile), raised the net and chucked him outside somewhere, anywhere but where he was. And then I did some praying of my own. “Lord, please don’t let him find the hole again.” Thankfully, he didn’t, and thankfully that was the last I saw of him.

Well, the next night I had a testimony to share at story time. We all had a good laugh (and by the way…they really aren’t as big as …eagles but it sure seemed that way.) I remember telling my teammates how grateful I was for answered prayer…and honestly I was. Until you’ve had something like that land on your face, in the dark, in Africa—well you just can’t appreciate a God who answers unusual prayers. But you know, that’s the kind of God that He is. Nothing is too big…and nothing is too small for this Dearest Daddy who calls us His own.

One time God was talking to Israel through the prophet Isaiah and He said no matter what we face…when we are over our head in trouble, or maybe between a rock and a hard place or even the occasional fiery furnace—He will be with us. Why? Because He is our Savior, our Lord, our God. Wow…what a great scripture and I can add to that list “face eating praying mantis.” God is always there with us and for us and no matter what, He’s got this. Take that, Mr. Mantis.

Family, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, travel, wisdom

Watch Your Step

Posted on January 29, 2021January 28, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

Make the most of every opportunity in these evil days.” Ephesians 5:16

There are certain times you just need to watch your step. For example, there are at least two things to watch out for when you are walking through a cow pasture. First, you need to make sure that it is fact a cow pasture and not a bull pasture. If it is a bull pasture you need to head to the nearest fence…immediately. Bulls are not cows, and most of the time the reason they call them bulls is because they are bullies. The second thing you need to watch out for when walking through a cow pasture are cow patties. You will just have to trust me on this one.

There are lots of other times and places you need to watch your step and one that I recently experienced was while hiking down by Bell Smith Springs. My wife Judy and I have grown quite fond of hiking. It is great exercise, and it is a great opportunity to get out and enjoy nature. So, last week we headed down to Bell Smith Springs to take on the Sentry Ridge Trail. It is a three-mile loop trail that follows a ridge (no surprise there) and looks down on a small canyon with a creek. The problem is a pleasure. It is just beautiful. There is so much to see, you want to look and look. But that is also the problem.

You see, the trail, in more than several places, is quite rocky. There are places when the trail is “paved” with large slabs of native stone. In other places, though, it is as if someone had come along and strewn stones everywhere. While they are mostly firmly embedded in the ground, they are still uneven. The bottom line is watch where you are stepping, or one of three things is bound to happen. One, you will twist your ankle. Two, you will fall and bust something you don’t want busted. Three, you will find yourself on the way down a long wooded cliff or bluff.

Now for the pleasurable problem. So, as we were hiking one of us believes in the destination. In other words, the goal is to make it, to do it, to get it done. The other one is in it for the journey. They actually believe the journey is primary to the destination. Can you guess who is who in this scenario? Yup. I, as the man, the conqueror, believes that the primary purpose of this trip is to finish and put another notch in my “hiking” belt. Judy, as the lady of the trail, wants to stop and take pictures of the trees—every tree; the rocks—every rock. Her conversation is dotted with “Look, Dewayne…” and other phrases that conquerors don’t use, or necessarily want to hear.

Now, because I love her so much, I will actually try and look but there is a problem. I have discovered that while you are looking around, you can’t be looking down and if you aren’t looking down you aren’t seeing rocks and if you aren’t seeing rocks you are in trouble. Whew. Now that was one long sentence. But do you get my point? I suppose you could actually stop, and look around, but that is just not what conquerors do. We conquerors conqueror and you can’t conqueror much standing still.

So, what is a conqueror to do? Well, the truth is, we should stop (all you conquerors forgive me) and smell the roses. Judy is in fact right. The joy is in the journey. The joy is pausing and seeing what there is to see…to enjoy what is there to enjoy. Now that doesn’t mean I need a picture of every rock and tree, but I do need to see what my Dearest Daddy has made. We need to learn to hit pause, every once in a while and then soon enough, hit play again.

What happens if you don’t? Well, actually, two things. You are going to miss the best part of the trip or maybe the day. As I am writing, there is a big, and I do mean big, full moon. They said it was a “Wolf Moon.” I’m not sure why it is called that besides the fact that the conqueror in me kinda wanted to stop and let out a howl. Earlier I was driving when Judy said those two words, “Dewayne, look…”. This time I got it right. I stole a quick glance to my right and there it was…and it was magnificent. I could have made some comment about I was driving but I discovered you can carefully sneak a look at the moon and drive too. That is true on trails, and in many other sights and sounds.

Paul, the guy who wrote most of the New Testament in the Christian Bible said that we should take the time and redeem the time. What he was saying is that we should make the most of the time we have. But we need to realize that while that includes working and doing life…it should also include time to enjoy the journey. I’m glad I’m married to someone who knows how to do that. Does it drive me nuts sometimes? Absolutely, but even that is part of the joy of the journey. So, be careful and watch where you step but be sure and take a few minutes to enjoy life around you. Think you can’t? Sure you can, with the Creator’s help! After all, He’s got this.