Category: pride

Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, Integrity, life, loving others, prayer, pride, Scripture

Soccer and Judging Others

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Do not judge others, and you will not be judged.” Matthew 7:1

It happens far too often…but the latest occurrence happened in my living room and sparked this story. My wife Judy is the Missions Director for our Baptist Association and that makes her in-charge of this summer’s soccer camp. The camp is staffed by four young adults from an organization called Sports Crusaders.  They come in and teach soccer and talk about Jesus.  The goal is to give the kids something far more than new soccer skills.

The four staffers were due around four in the afternoon. The first young man who came in was just about what I was expecting—polite and willing to share. The other group of three arrived a little later. They consisted of a young lady, the team leader, and two rather tall and lanky guys. From my perspective they definitely looked like soccer players to me.  Judy had told me that one of the team was from Arkansas. We thought (wrongly) that it was the first guy to arrive, so I told him a corny joke that goes like this. “Which state is mentioned in the Bible?” The answer is Arkansas which is always followed by a quizzical look.  I then say, “You know, Noah looked out of the ark and saw.” Now isn’t that great. I thought so, guy number one thought so and when the rest of the team arrived, I tried it again.

Well, I should have quit while I was ahead. The lady team leader thought it was great but the other two guys with her looked at me like a “calf at a new gate.” My prize joke had not even garnered a smile. Hmmm. So, while Judy explained the week the two guys, seemed to hardly pay attention. It kinda rubbed me the wrong way. He kinda struck me as detached—disinterested. Well, right there and then, I judged them as unworthy ambassadors. Why, I bet they couldn’t even play soccer.

Well, hang on.  After explaining the week, Judy asked the guy in the middle his name and his story about Sports Crusaders. As soon as he spoke it was apparent that his heart language was not English. He spoke with a thick accent and since his name was French, I assume that was his accent. The story repeated itself with the other guy, but his name was not French, but his accent was just as thick.  And that is when this judge got fired. I realized that they weren’t rude, they weren’t detached, and they weren’t disinterested.  The fact is I think they were struggling to even understand the conversation.  I had wrongly judged these two young men and yes…I bet they could even play soccer.

My big truth, which I keep repeating in the classroom of life, is that it is so easy to misjudge both people and sometimes a situation.  I hope one day I will finally learn to leaving the judging to the Judge—the Lord Jesus.  I have learned that most of the time when I set myself on the judge’s bench, I miss the call.  Do you find that true too?  So, let me suggest that we learn to hang tight and get the whole picture before we act.  And even then…leave the judging to the Judge.  He always gets it right…right after all, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, pride, Scripture, Trials

Darkness and Flying Hotdogs

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

“I am the light of the world. If you follow Me, you won’t have to walk in darkness, because you will have the light that leads to life.” John 8:12

It was dark…but I knew the way.  It was one of those days that I either skipped lunch or had something light. Regardless, it was about 2:30 in the afternoon and I was hungry. One of the advantages of working at a church is there is usually a kitchen close by. So, I mentioned to the staff that I was heading down to the kitchen to try and find something to eat.  They told me there were some leftover hotdogs and baked beans in the refrigerator. Well, that sounded pretty good to me so off I went.

When I arrived, I opened the refrigerator door and looked. No dogs, no beans. Like the game show, “Let’s Make a Deal,” I decided to try door number two.  No dogs, no beans. My last chance was door number three and unfortunately…no dogs, no beans.  My stomach growled so I decided to try the freezer. I pulled open the door and while there weren’t any beans, there was one lonely, very frozen hotdog. In desperation I grabbed it and tossed it in the microwave for a fast defrost.  Sixty seconds later I had a mostly defrosted hotdog which I then smothered with mustard.  I even found a small bag of chips to round out the feast.

With food in hand, I headed through our dark fellowship hall heading to the door that led outside and then to my office.  The fellowship hall was dark because the lights were off, and I didn’t turn them on because there wasn’t a switch at that door. All of this wasn’t a problem because I had made this journey many times. There were several tables along the wall and like a blind man I ran my hand along the edge of the tables and when they ended, I knew it was a straight shot to the door.  It was a good plan…till it wasn’t.

Walking full speed and without reservation, I ran my hand down the table and sure enough it ended, and I just kept walking straight toward the door. I should have noticed that for some reason I couldn’t see the outline of the exit door. Too bad I didn’t because just about that time I crashed into something. My semi-defrosted hotdog smothered in mustard and chips went flying everywhere and I was left wondering what in the world just happened. Still in the darkness, I turned around and went to the light switch and flipped it on and there was the culprit. Someone had left the closet door that opened out instead of in standing open and I had ran straight into it.

Well, let’s be honest, with a mustard smothered hotdog and chips all over the floor I was one unhappy camper. Who in the world would leave the stinking door standing open? Don’t people know that you can’t see open doors in dark rooms? Well, I snorted and muttered for a couple of minutes, cleaned up the mess and headed to my office.

Floor or not I salvaged the hotdog and as I munched the dog a thought occurred to me. I had asked the wrong question.  It wasn’t who would leave a door open in a dark room, rather it was who in the world would walk through a dark room?  The problem wasn’t the open door but the guy who thought he could safely navigate the darkness.  Hmmm.

Well, I do believe I learned a lesson that day. Lights have a switch for a reason—turn on the lights!  And then I had the thought that what is true about carrying mustard smothered hotdogs is also true in life.  It is simply not smart to try and navigate a dark world without the Light of the world.  Jesus said, “I am the light of the world. If you follow Me, you won’t have to walk in darkness, because you will have the light that leads to life.” Well, there you go. Walk with Jesus and you will walk in the light. The big truth is this…if you find yourself in a dark room carrying a mustard smothered hotdog, just remember to flip the switch. And, if you find yourself in a dark corner of the world with a heart smothered with burdens, just ask Jesus and He will be your light. Don’t worry…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, pride, Scripture, spring, thankful, travel, Trials

Itty Bitty Construction Zones

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

But if we confess our sins to Him, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins [including impatience] and to cleanse us from all wickedness.”  1 John 1:9

Traffic jams…good grief. Ok, before we go any further in this story, let me just confess that I know my impatience in traffic is probably a sin. I don’t think you will find it listed specifically in the Bible but that is only because no one had any cars.  But wait…maybe there were donkey jams…who knows.  Anyway, my wife Judy and I were on our way recently to the Billy Graham Training Center just outside of Asheville, North Carolina. We were cruising along, filled with anticipation, excited about the speaker, Jim Cymbala, and a great worship guy, Michael O’Brian. Yup it was gonna be good…if we could only get there.

Our faithful travel buddy, Waze, had warned me that there was a slight traffic jam coming up—you know, five minutes in traffic.  Waze is a great friend but this time, well, he or she failed…miserably. It went like this. To help us not sit in traffic, Waze had us detour.  It has done this before with stellar results, so I had no qualms about trusting it this time.  We soon found ourselves on a two-lane road cruising along and right before we were to rejoin the interstate there was a little, tiny construction zone—not on the interstate but on the Waze detour. No deal, right?  Wrong. This little, tiny construction zone required one lane to be closed which normally would not be a deal except for the twenty thousand people who also had Waze and had taken the detour.  The traffic people had a traffic light to manage the mess but as it turns out the light for our way heading east literally stayed green for about forty seconds.  I’m not kidding.  So, we sat there for almost thirty minutes waiting for our turn.  Ok, I was not a happy camper.  Try as I might there wasn’t an ounce of gratitude in my dusty dry soul.

Finally, it was my turn, and I sighed a great sigh of relief and then I saw it.  The thing that caused the whole mess, the mess on the interstate and all the cars on the detour waiting on the stinking light, was a forty-yard pothole repair.  That’s it. Nothing major, nothing earth shattering just a little itty-bitty road repair.  Ok, I was “fit to be tied”, and for the next fifteen miles I uttered under my breath about TDOT and whoever else had anything to do with that light and that repair.

Well, somewhere down the road the Holy Spirit was finally able to chip His way though my slightly hardened heart and I went from uttering complains to uttering a prayer that went something like, “God, it’s me. I’m sorry.” Suddenly, I realized just how foolish all this ranting and raving stuff was and boy did I feel foolish.  It was one of those times when I was very grateful for a Dearest Daddy that is more than willing to forget my disasters and my stupid’s. I’m so glad that He is more than willing to put out the fires of my soul with a big bucket full of His grace.  He is always willing to forgive.  In times like this I do wish I could better remember those three powerful yet simple words…He’s got this. Big or little…He does.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, Integrity, life, loving others, prayer, pride, school days, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Crime of the Century

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

As Jesus went on from there, He saw a man named Matthew sitting at the toll booth, and He said to him, “Follow me,” and he got up and followed Him.” Matthew 9:9 (CSB)

It was the crime of the century.  Somewhere right around the time I was learning how to cut watermelon with a butcher knife, I was learning how to be a criminal.  I already had the regular sin thing down by then.  I could be jealous, tell a lie, be angry, be envious and be selfish—yup I was a pretty good sinner.  But one day, one ordinary day, I became a thief.  I became the “Al Capone” of 6008 Carlton Road.

My mom was the Girls Auxiliary teacher at the church we attended.  It was a class that taught girls about God and missions.  As part of the class, they would bring their change, and put it in one of those small, metal world globes.  Momma, to keep it safe, brought the globe home and one day, one ordinary day, I decided to steal.

My plan was never to take all the money—that would be too obvious.  I wanted just enough to go to the store and buy a water gun.  So, one day, Momma and my sisters left, and I was in the house by myself.  I went and took the globe to our porch and with a butter knife I began to fish the money out of the globe.  Nickels, dimes, and quarters fell to the floor.  When I got what I wanted I put the globe back and collected my booty. I don’t remember if I felt remorse, but I did feel fear.  “What if?” I said.

So, later, Daddy went to the store, and I tagged along.  I went back to the toys and picked up my water gun and bought it.  Now those were the days when kids didn’t have money laying around, so Daddy asked, “Where did you get the money to buy the water gun?”  I panicked but quickly and efficiently covered the crime with a lie.  “Oh, I found it.” I replied.  Found it indeed.

The only thing I remember from that point on is going back to the crime scene and making sure I had found all the coins that had fallen to the floor.  I didn’t find any, but I did find something else.  More fear and a burden of guilt.  I don’t remember how the story ended.  I don’t remember confessing, I know I didn’t replace the money, and I know it still bothers me to this day.  I bet Momma is going to have some questions when I get to heaven.  The cat is out of the bag.

So, along with being a regular sinner, I fell into stealing from God and lying to my Daddy—and probably my Momma.  Thankfully, somewhere down the road, I also became forgiven. It’s too long of a story to share here but when I was 13, I was plunged into grace.  I threw aside an unhealthy dose of religion and got a relationship with the God of the universe and beyond.  And do you know what?  That sin, and all my other sins, were forgiven, eradicated, erased, and thrown away. Amazing.

So, put your rocks down.  You might be wondering, “How can a professional criminal that stole from God be a Christian—much less a preacher?” That is the wonder, mystery, and power of God’s love.  You see, the worst sinners in the days of Jesus were tax collectors.  They were professional thieves who betrayed their friends and country men to the Romans.  Matthew was one of those. He was sitting at his collection table taking people for a ride.  Then it happened.

Jesus walks up to this most unlikely person and says, “Follow me.” The other followers’ jaws dropped, the Pharisees nearly threw-up and Matthew, well, he stood up, left it all behind and followed Jesus.  And, like they say, the rest is history.

I don’t know what your story is like—maybe you’re a lot better than me—maybe a lot worse.  Let me tell you what I know—God loves you and wants you in His family.  If you are willing to turn from your sin and follow Him, He will forgive your sins and give you a new past and a new future.

You see God can handle all this stuff we are in.  Crazy days and crazy sin doesn’t faze Him.  He can handle your circumstances—and your sin, no matter how much you resemble Matthew or Al Capone.  Come to Him today, rest in Him today.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, pride, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials

“Pigdemic”

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Therefore, since we also have such a large cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us lay aside every hindrance and the sin that so easily ensnares us. Let us run with endurance the race that lies before us.” (Hebrews 12:1)

The COVID era was a crazy, crazy thing and time. Nothing so dominated the public’s attention as this, this disaster, this tragedy, this pain in the neck, this maker of our new normalcy like COVID-19.  I eventually caught it twice, but I also caught its first cousin.

Did you know that the pandemic had a first cousin?  Of yes it does.  It is the dreaded…wait for it…pigdemic.  Yup…you read it right.   Pigdemic was a new phenomenon that swept the nation.  It happened when people were forced to stay at home for extended periods of time bored out of their minds.  In this condition, people ate and ate and ate. They ate things that they love, they ate things they like, they ate things they don’t like, and they ate things they have never heard of.   The consequences were weighty.

Clothes magically shrank while hanging in closets, mirrors suddenly made people appear shorter and wider, gravity seemed to take on added strength when people tried to get off the couch and exercise became more difficult, much more difficult.  And that is when I made a self-diagnosis.  I had the pigdemic.  It happened like this.

First, despite my shrinking clothes, I managed to walk 2.5 miles, five or six days a week at a respectable 14-minute mile pace.  Well, one morning, after walking, my wife was going to ride her bike.  I decided I would join her.  After all, riding a bike had to be easier than walking.  So off we went! I was surprised when she was about 40 yards ahead of me and I was panting like a dog on a hot day.  “Hmmmm” I said.  She had to stop and adjust her seat (for which I am eternally grateful) and I told her, “I don’t know if it is because I walked this morning or maybe it is those pesky donuts, but I am tired. This is hard.” She laughed and kindly said it was probably because I had walked.  I was sure it was the donuts.

We kept riding and despite my best efforts, I kept falling behind and I was pretty sure I was going to die.  I was also certain I had the pigdemic.  I wasn’t ready to swear off donuts, but I was close.  Well, I had been hearing a noise coming from my front wheel (which sounded strangely like a pig squealing) but I didn’t think too much about it.  I should have.  I finally told Judy I was going to stop and check out the squealing pig sound.  I did and it turned out my front wheel was off center causing my brake to be about half on. I loosened the front wheel and centered it slightly and got back on.  Two amazing things happened.  The squealing pig was gone and suddenly I could peddle a lot easier.  A whole lot easier.

It turns out I was not about to die from the pigdemic.  It was a brake that was braking when it should have been coasting. I discovered it is amazing when you ride a bike how much harder it is when the brake is on…even a little.  A little braking can quickly break your spirit.  I decided before I ride again, I’m going to check my bike out a little closer and make sure there are no squealing pigs on board.

I wonder if that is what the writer of Hebrews had in mind. He encouraged us to lay aside every weight and every sin that might hinder us from running our race or riding our spiritual bike.  I think it might be.  The weights are things that may not be wrong for us but are just not helpful.  It might be like riding a bike and carrying a ten-pound rock in your basket…just because you like rocks.  Sin, well, we know what sin is. If you are biking it might be like riding with a flat tire.  Not a good idea.  Whether it is rocks or flat tires, the bottom line is life is harder when we carry stuff that we don’t need or that can and will hurt us.

So, if you are riding your bike and there is a sound that sounds like a squealing pig, it probably isn’t the pigdemic.  It’s probably a wheel off-center causing your brake to brake. If life seems a little more difficult, why not ask God and see if you have a rock or two in your basket or worse, a flat tire.  Try praying this prayer from Psalm 139:23-24, “Father, would you search me inside and out, run some tests on me, and see if there is anything hindering me, hurting me?  Would you see if there is something that I’m doing that offends you?  Would you lead me in a way that shows others I am on Your path? Thank-you Father. Amen.”

Now that is one prayer that God wants to answer.  He wants you to peddle through life with the wind at your back, a song in your heart and no squealing pigs on board.  And when you get home you can rest in Him.  Do you know why?  Yup…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, gratitude, life, love, loving others, pride, school days, Scripture, Southern born, Trials

Washer Hoses and a Dose of Oops

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

And above all things have fervent love for one another, for “love will cover a multitude of sins.” 1 Peter 4:8

It’s an old, old story…at least for we Taylors.  As the baby of our family, I came along toward the tail end of so many good memories.  Daddy and Momma had eight kids in all.  They had five, apparently needed a break, and then decided to have three more. Well, I’m not sure how much it was a decision as it was a fact of life…no pun intended.  There were plenty of tales in the Taylor household but like I said, some happened before I came along.

Daddy and Momma started out with three boys.  From everything I know, they were all rough and tumble and that’s just the way it was.  Well, apparently, one day things got a little out of hand.  More on that in a few minutes.  What you need to know now is that one day my Momma went out to use her washing machine and made a startling discovery.  Someone had cut the hoses to the machine and the natural suspects were the three older brothers.  I’m not sure why they were suspects unless that was part of their rough and tumble motif.  I can’t verify it, but I would suspect that at some point, Momma said, “Just wait till your father gets home.”

Well, eventually he did, and Momma told him what had happened.  He lined the boys up for a time of interrogation.  They assured him that while they were rough and tumble, they weren’t stupid—there was no way they cut the hoses.  Well, Daddy didn’t buy it.  He was sure that they did.  I’m not sure how long they were in the “police lineup” but eventually Daddy said if no one would confess they would all get punished…and they did.  I don’t know if it was a switch or a belt, but they got a spanking.  Case closed.  Daddy was sure they wouldn’t be cutting anymore hoses.

Well, the only problem was this—they didn’t cut them in the first place.  Several days later, one of their rough and tumble “friends” confessed to the deed.  It turns out in their rough and tumbling the “friend” had gotten mad and decided to get a little revenge so…he cut the hoses.  When word got back to Daddy, he called a meeting of “the boys.”  Again, I wasn’t there but I heard it went something like this.  “Boys, I found out you didn’t cut the hoses to the washing machine—your “friend” did it.  Now, at this point in the story it would seem logical that Daddy would at least attempt to apologize for the undue punishment.  That didn’t happen.  Instead, he said something like this, “You probably needed the spanking anyway.”

I know, you’re thinking, “What! That’s not right.  It’s not fair.” But don’t be too quick to cast judgement on my Daddy.  The bottom line is he should have apologized, but that was a different time, and we don’t know all the details.  Sometimes it is hard for people to apologize…even when they are wrong.  Can you identify with that?  I know I sure can. Often the words, “I’m sorry” just couldn’t find their way off my tongue. And if you are a member of the human race, you have probably experienced that too.

Here’s what I do know.  My Daddy was a good man, but he wasn’t a perfect man.  He, like me, made mistakes.  When I heard this story a long time ago, honestly, we probably all laughed.  Later, I’m sure it made me think and I came to this conclusion. Instead of judging him for a lapse of judgement in a moment of time I decided to go with what I knew to be true.  My Daddy loved them, and he loved me and that was simply enough.  I was willing to let love cover a multitude of sins.  I know God’s love has sure covered a big multitude of my sins…and I am grateful for that.

The big take away is this.  If you find someone has cut your washing machine hoses the most likely suspect probably doesn’t live in your house—possibly but not probably.  But more than that—always remember we are recipients of a whole pile of God’s grace, and we should be willing to extend a little.  Forgiveness is not for the person you’re forgiving—it is for you.  A heart willing to forgive is a happy heart.  And, when you find yourself against a rock and hard place trying to forgive someone who hurt you…just remember your Heavenly Father is an expert at forgiving and trust me, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Mercy Me…Mercy You

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Be merciful, just as your Father also is merciful.” Luke 6:36

I heard her before I saw her. I was sitting in the backyard enjoying a beautiful Spring early afternoon and I could hear two things.  First, there was a heavy, shuffling of someone’s feet. It is the sound when a person’s feet never quite leave the ground amplified by the heavy shoes on their feet.  Second, there was a quiet mumbling coming from the same place.  I got up for some reason and walked from the patio to our driveway and as I did, I glanced down the alley that runs next to our house.  That is when I saw her.

She was wearing a worn-out flowery dress that hadn’t seen a washing machine in a very long time.  The heavy shoes that I had heard were a pair of rubber boots that strangely were flowered like her dress.  With each step, as I suspected, her feet barely left the ground. At first, I thought she might be physically challenged which caused her shuffling but then I noticed that she was staggering as her feet shuffled. It was obvious that she was under the influence of something—drunk or high or both.

I said hello to her, but she didn’t hear me or ignored me.  It was one of those times when she was there physically but not mentally. About that time some of my tribe joined me in the driveway.  My son-in-law recognized the woman and said the other day she had pulled a hatchet on him and my daughter while they were walking, and I guess that explained what happened next.

I mentioned how sad I felt for her, but I guess because of the hatchet deal he didn’t share my compassion. She struggled on past us to make it to the end of the alley.  While attempting to cross the busy street in front of our house almost stepped in front of a car. We all sorta gasped and it was then that someone mumbled something along the line that it probably would have been better if the car had hit her. I gave the Jesus lecture about she was someone that God loved, and Jesus died for, but they weren’t buying it. Oh, not that they are a hard-hearted lot, but compassion for her had been fatally wounded by the story of an old rusty hatchet.

In this crazy story, I was wanting to judge them for judging her. The bottom line is they should have felt more compassion for her—hatchet or not and I should have felt more understanding for them because of the hatchet.  You see, it really is easy to enter the courtroom of judgement in life, isn’t it? And it’s too easy to extend mercy to one while withholding from another. Perhaps it would be better to leave the judging to the one true Judge while extending mercy to everyone and anyone.  After all, that is what He did and that is what He does.  Until we have walked a while in someone else’s shoes, we probably will misread the story.  When you find yourself in an alley or anywhere else and you are tempted to judge, just remember the One who extended mercy to you…the One who no matter what…always has this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, forgiveness, life, prayer, pride, priorities, Scripture, Trials

Pilate

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Pilate said, “So you are a king?” Jesus responded, “You say I am a king. Actually, I was born and came into the world to testify to the truth. All who love the truth recognize that what I say is true.” “What is truth?” Pilate asked. John 18:37-38a

I am a fan of history but that doesn’t mean I know a lot.  I really do like to investigate things of the past. To me it is always fascinating to peer into the past and discover how things happened…or didn’t happen.  And, of course, there is the learning factor.  If we are wise, we can look back and learn. It has been said that those who don’t learn from the past are destined to repeat it. That can be a deal, or no deal but it can also be a tragedy.

I was reading a devotion from Pastor Greg Laurie recently.  He has a great ministry out in California, and he was writing about a guy we think a lot about—especially at this time of the year. His name—Pilate. He plays a minor major role in the Easter story.  He was the Roman leader that interrogated Jesus asking, “What is truth” and then washed his hands, figuratively and physically, of the whole Jesus affair.  In so doing, he condemned Jesus to the cross and by personally rejecting Jesus—he condemned himself to an eternity without God.

In the Roman world, men like Pilate, placed in power by a totally corrupt empire, thought themselves as gods.  They held absolute power and sway over people and their lives. Offend them and you probably would pay heavily for it. I can imagine Pilate that day somewhat drunk with power as he presided over the fate of Jesus. We can see he did wrestle with the decision but in the end, securing his continued power was all that mattered. He couldn’t risk making Rome mad, so he threw Jesus, so to speak, to the dogs.

I never considered what happened to Pilate, but Laurie sheds some light on the matter. He writes, “Pilate gave up everything for power and prestige. And how did it work out for him? According to history, he ultimately suffered banishment from high office to a place called Gaul. There, he was left broken and destitute, unwanted by Caesar, and all alone.”

But wait, there is more, much more. Laurie continues, “One night, under the cover of darkness, Pontius Pilate, the great Roman governor who could have received forgiveness from the Son of God, went out and hung himself. A workman found his body. His craving for popularity cost him everything. Had he chosen to, he could have believed in Jesus on the spot, and Jesus would have forgiven him.”

What an incredibly sad ending to a sad story. If there ever is a time when we need to learn from the past…it is here and it is now. If you are pondering the reality of Jesus and whether to follow Him or reject Him, if you are wondering if it is truly worth it or not, if you are weighing the price, remember Pilate. He indeed gave up everything for power and prestige. There is a song that asks, “What will you do with Jesus, neutral you cannot be. One day your heart will be asking, “What will He do with me, what will He do with me.” God is inviting you into His family. Worried you messed up too much?  You don’t need to. He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, life, loving others, pride, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, Trials

Help!

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

For sin will not rule over you, because you are not under the law but under grace.”  Romans 6:14

It’s just about to drive me nuts.  For as long as I can remember, I have had to deal with allergies.  From the days of running the woods in Northeast Florida as a kid to now, stuff in the air drives me bonkers.  I can well remember the days in my early twenties when the only weapon I had to fight the battle with was some nose spray.  And the crazy part of that is if you use it too often and too long, it makes matters worse.

In the earlier days, my main issue was the fall.  In the fall there is this crazy plant called ragweed and when it starts to bloom, I start to suffer.  We are talking about itchy eyes, clogged nasal passages, and a sneeze that sounds like a chihuahua chasing their tail wound way too tight.  Oh, and I don’t sneeze once—try six to eight times.  During the COVID mess it was a real issue because people thought I was coughing instead of sneezing, so they gave me the death stare and then ran.

About a zillion years ago, I discovered something called Flonase that changed my life.  It is a nasal steroid that tricks your nose and eyes into believing that there is nothing in the air.  It was a game changer and I have used it probably for 30 years or more.  Wow, it sure made fall easier.  I might still have some symptoms but at least it was tolerable. Well, about five years ago, something happened.  I started having the same symptoms in the spring too.  They weren’t as bad, and the Flonase kept everything in balance.  All that was true until this year.

As spring began to spring, my allergies started acting up, first in a little way and then in a big way.  Today they are acting in a “you’ve got to be kidding me” way.  So, when I started sounding like an overactive chihuahua I just started using my medicine.  For some reason, this spring, it didn’t work like before.  Now for the last couple of days, I have been sneezing and my eyes have been itching like crazy.  I tried the over-the-counter stuff, and we made a little progress but so far, well, we are still at war.

All of this is so crazy.  Some stuff from some plant is doing something to the lining of my sinuses causing them to go nuts and I end up in misery.  I mean, first, I did nothing to the stinking plants and second, what’s up with my hypersensitive sinuses.  Something that I can’t even see is making me miserable.  I know, I should think positive but when you want to take your eyeballs out so you can scratch them better, it is hard to be positive.  And then I know you aren’t supposed to put your fingers in your eyes, but it feels so good to scratch them.  Oh, my goodness.

You know, I wonder what if sin (you know the things that God says we shouldn’t do) was as irritating as whatever it is that is driving me nuts?  What if it bothered me to the point that I would do anything to stop?  I do believe my life would be better…I know my life would be better.  But the problem with sin is the fact we like it way too much.  For many of us, it’s like the satisfaction I feel when I scratch my eyes or sneeze for the eighth time.  It feels better…it feels good.  But mark this down.  There are consequences.

Sneeze eight times with your eyes closed while driving and you end up running a red light or running into a ditch.  Bummer.  Scratch your eyes too often and you end up with an eye infection or scratching something like whatever it is that makes your eyes work in the first place.  Regardless—you end up in a mess.  The best thing to do is what I finally did.  I went to see my eye doctor friend.  Fortunately, she confirmed it wasn’t some weird African eye disease.  She prescribed some medicine that will stop this infernal itching. It’s gonna take a few days but eventually with her help, I’ll win.  I knew if there was anything that could be done, she would know and she would help and she did. She is my doctor, but she is also my friend.

It is the same way with this sin thing.  We need to call the sin doctor and that would be Jesus.  He knows all about sin—how to beat it—how to subdue it, and how to avoid all those nasty consequences.  He died so that sin wouldn’t win, and He is more than willing to help us, if we ask.  His death on the cross paid the penalty for our sin but He also gives us victory over the sneezing and itchy eyes part of sin—the day-to-day messiness of sin.  He gives us sin relief and I love that.

Paul, one of the main writers of the New Testament part of the Bible, says that sin (along with all its messy consequences) does not have to rule over us—because we are not under the “thou shalt not’s” but under grace—God’s unlimited and unmerited favor.  And because of that, sin doesn’t have free reign, you know, like too many sneezes and itchy eyes.  That sounds like good news to me.

Just know that if you hear something that sounds like an overactive chihuahua or see some guy with red eyes, don’t worry it is probably just me going nuts.  But remember, and this is the take-away, there is Someone who can handle your sin issues and that Someone is Jesus.  He loves you a lot—so much He died for you.  And whatever your issue is, you can take this to the bank, He’s got this, too.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, prayer, pride, Scripture, thankful, Trials, wisdom

The Stain Remains

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

So if your eye—even your good eye—causes you to lust, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.” Matthew 5:29

Despite my best efforts…it happened.  This isn’t a story about one event…or two…or even three.  It is a story about a reoccurring thing in my life…and probably in yours.  So, imagine with me.  You are having dinner, and it is one of your favorites—spaghetti! You have on a favorite shirt or blouse, and it is one of your favorite colors.  So, something tells you that you should change shirts, but you don’t. Instead, you decide it is too much trouble, so you make a conscious decision to be careful and it works—till it doesn’t.

You are careful not to slurp the noodles, you are careful to lean over your plate but alas you look down and there, on your favorite shirt you see several freckles of reddish orange. The dreaded spaghetti sauce has somehow found its way not to your mouth but to your shirt. Bummer.  You jump from the table and immediately head to the kitchen sink and arm yourself with a damp dishcloth and some Dawn dishwashing soap. After all, everyone knows from the television commercials that Dawn can do anything…even save the life of a small duckling.

You carefully begin to rub the spots and slowly they get lighter and lighter—until they don’t. On no, despite your best efforts, your favorite shirt now has some permanent light reddish-orange freckles.  The sauce is gone but it has left a cotton-picking stain, and no amount of scrubbing or rubbing is going to change the outcome. No amount of regret for not changing the shirt before you started dinner is going to change this.  The stain remains.

And do you know what?  What is true about shirts and spaghetti is true about us and our lives.  You know what I mean—we are faced with a choice, and we choose poorly.  We say we are sorry, both to God and whoever else it impacts, but the stain remains.  We say something to someone, the kind of words that are better left unspoken, and we watch as the hurt spreads across their face. We apologize but they know, and you know that while forgiveness is granted, the stain will remain.

If we are wise, and let’s be honest, sometimes we are not, we would do well to think before we speak.  We would be wise enough to take whatever action necessary to avoid the whole mess—and the stain that will remain.  They say an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure and that is so, so true.  Jesus said, “So if your eye—even your good eye—causes you to lust, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.” Yeah, I know, drastic right?  But remember this is spoken by Someone who understood the seriousness of sin—who would later die on a cross to pay for yours…and mine.

So, the next time you are sitting down for a nice spaghetti dinner, remember this plate of Grits and change your shirt.  Oh, and the next time you are about to make a bad choice remember that the stain, the consequences, will remain.  The good news is if you still splatter the shirt of your life, His grace is gonna be sufficient.  He’s got this. 

Bro. Dewayne