Category: school days

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, priorities, school days, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Ride a Cock Horse

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Most important of all, continue to show deep love for each other, for love covers a multitude of sins.” 1 Peter 4:8

I was chosen to ride a horse.  When I was in the third grade, our school was going to put on a musical.  Back in those days, being a part of something like a school musical was cool.  Today, in most circumstances, mention a musical to most boys and all you can see is the dust from their feet as they run away.  But this was a different time and being chosen wasn’t only cool…it was an honor.

I think the show was a variety thing and two other boys and I were going to sing a song about riding a “cock horse” to “Banbury Cross” to “see a fine lady” who rode a white horse. She wore rings on her fingers and bells on her toes and she had music wherever she went. Well, anyway it was something like that. Our costume consisted of the three of us wearing white shirts with white pants.  They made us a hat like the one’s the soldiers wore in “The Nutcracker” and a white cardboard horse that we slipped over our heads and around our waists, so it appeared we were riding it. 

An important part of the costume was the shoes.  According to the director, we were to wear white buckskin shoes…and that was the problem.  I had a white shirt, and a pair of white pants was easy enough to come by, but buckskin white shoes, no way.  It is safe to say that no one who lived at 6008 Carlton Road ever owned or wore white buckskin shoes.  I also think it is safe to say they were out of our price range.  The best Momma and Daddy could do was a pair of white canvas tennis shoes.  I was mortified.  I knew, and I was right, that the other two boys would have on white buckskin shoes, and I would be the only one who didn’t, and I was embarrassed.

As always, I should have known that Momma and Daddy had done the best they could do and that should have been enough but from my small world perspective it wasn’t. I’m sure there was a fair amount of pouting and applying an unfair guilt trip on my parents.  I’m sure they felt bad, and I am sure it was my fault.  The truth is…I was being very selfish.  Something like selfishness is easy to see in the rearview mirror when enough time and distance has passed.  And I’m sure that was not the only instance.

Well, the show must go on…and it did and guess what?  Not one person said anything about my white canvas tennis shoes.  Nope…we sang and danced our little cock horses across the stage, and everyone clapped.  Of course, looking back, I shouldn’t have worried about the shoes but rather about the whole idea of prancing around a stage with a cardboard horse around my waist. Perhaps part of the humor in all of this is I still remember a lot of the words and the tune to my “Cock Horse” song.

I’m not sure when but somewhere along the journey I realized that what I thought was a big deal was not.  And, trust me, that was not the only time.  I’ve learned that we humans tend to make mountains out of molehills. And I’ve also learned that too often it revolves around relationships.  Too often relationships with family and friends are scarred or shattered over the smallest of things.  And, sadly and ironically, sometimes people don’t even remember what the deal was.  Walls were built and no one knows why, and no one has the courage to tear them down.

Got any walls in your life?  Still mad about something as silly as buckskin shoes?  If so, why not let today be the day when the walls come down?  Why not let today be the day when that relationship is restored?  Why not be the one to take the first “whack at the wall?”  As a pastor, I do a lot of funerals and sadly, there are often walls in the families and just like that…it is too late to fix it.

Peter, one of the guys that followed Jesus, wrote in the Bible, “Most important of all, continue to show deep love for each other, for love covers a multitude of sins.” He knew that love makes a great sledgehammer for tearing down walls.  God knew that too because He loved us even though we weren’t close to being worthy.  It takes courage to take the first whack.  God willingly took the first swing to bring us home and it involved a Roman cross and His Son.  Need a little help swinging that hammer?  Not a problem…just ask because, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, school days, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

What Lurks Beneath the Surface

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts!     And see if there be any grievous way in me.” Psalm 139:23-24

There was something stinky right below the surface.  There were a lot of things I just didn’t know or understand growing up, but that was ok because my world was low key.  Looking back, maybe, perhaps those were some of my favorite memories in this journey called life. This was especially true in the years before junior high.  As an elementary age kid, it was sunup to sundown adventures. Little did I know that something was brewing right beneath my feet.

We lived in the country which meant no city water or sewer.  In fact, I think I can safely say I didn’t even know there was such a thing.  We had a well and pump in our backyard and that is where our water came from, and I thought that is what everyone did.  We also had something called a septic tank.  That handled all the, uh, waste, from the Taylor Tribe.  There were two things I didn’t know. First, I didn’t know we had one and second, I didn’t know it was right under our back porch.  All that changed when one day a big truck pulled into our yard.  It turns out they were there to “pump out our septic tank.”  Now anything that was big and mechanical I was all about.  I watched in amazement as they moved some dirt and pried this huge, heavy slab of concrete off an equally huge tank thing.

It was just about then, I decided to back up because whatever was in there was not cool.  They put a big hose in that tank thing and began to suck it all out.  Now I know this is a bit gross but stay with me.  So, the tank was empty, and they slid the lid back in place and off they went. Well, soon I forgot the big truck and forgot about the thing under our porch.  Months later, I was playing in our backyard, and I noticed that water was bubbling up from the ground…not in one place but several.  Soon, my nose took me back to what was under the porch.  It turned out that thing under the porch had what was called a drain field…and it wasn’t working. And because it wasn’t working…what was hidden beneath the ground soon wasn’t. The stinky was revealed.

Well, afford it or not, like it or not, they came and dug up a big part of our backyard and replaced the old clay tile pipes with new ones. It was all pretty interesting and soon the holes were covered up and the equipment moved on and magically, the stink was gone.  Looking back, I think it was funny that something so funky and yucky could be right there beneath my feet and I never knew it…until it came to the surface.  And once it started to bubble up…what was hidden no longer was.

I’ve lived long enough now to know what was true in my backyard is true in life.  So often we allow some foul stuff to hang around in our lives.  You know, secret sins, bad habits, and destructive addictions—stuff rolling around in our minds or banging around in our hearts.  We manage to keep it all under control, “under the ground,” until one day…it bubbles to the surface, and you find yourself wondering, “Where did that come from?”  Worse than that, people start wondering about the same thing.  You can take it to the bank that secrets often don’t remain secret.  Moses, yup, the guy who led God’s people out of Egypt, said that we can be sure our sin, or our habits, or our addictions will be found out…they will eventually come to the surface.

What I learned about septic tanks as a kid is true today too.  They needed regular maintenance and sometimes repairs to function correctly.  We need the same.  We need to regularly examine our heart and our conscience to see if there is anything we need to get “pumped” out.  If we are God followers, we need to have the courage to ask Him to check out what lurks below the surface of our lives.  One of the writers of the Psalms in the Old Testament part of the Bible said, “Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me.”

Some prayers are harder to pray than others…and this is one of those.  Search me, know me, try me…know my thoughts.  Giving God permission (though He really doesn’t need it) to pry into your stuff is hard but profitable. I mean, the prying isn’t for Him…it is for you.  It helps you be a better you.  Oh, and don’t worry…you can’t surprise Him.  The big surprise is when you hear Him say, “Oh all that stuff, no problem.  I’ve got this.”

Posted in Family, fear, food, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, school days, Scripture, Southern born, travel, Trials

Self-Made Messes

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

For the mountains may move and the hills disappear, but even then, My faithful love for you will remain. My covenant of blessing will never be broken,” says the Lord, who has mercy on you.” Isaiah 54:10

We were somewhere in Texas.  It was probably in the early sixties, somewhere around 1962 or three.  We were on vacation, which meant we were going to see my brother who lived in Texas. We are driving in our 1957 Plymouth, no air conditioning with Momma and Daddy up front and the “three little ones” spanning and filling the backseat.  It was very early in the morning and best I can remember we had driven all night—probably to save time and probably to save the cost of a hotel.  Well, in the very early morning, right when the darkness is fleeing, Leslie told Alston that we should stop and eat breakfast. So…we did.

It was a “mom and pop” place. Places like McDonald’s and the like didn’t exist and if they did, they were rare.  However, this was a roadside diner and for the Taylor tribe it was a treat.  Momma turned around and stirred us into some sort of consciousness as Daddy pulled into the parking lot.  We were soon settled into a large booth and breakfast was ordered.  I was going to write how I had the traditional breakfast of eggs and bacon, but I think I remember that Momma had given me a choice and I chose pancakes.

Soon our food came and still a bit sleepy, I drowned the pancakes in sweet, sticky syrup. And it was right about then it happened.  In my mostly still asleep state, I tried to cut the pancakes with my fork when quickly and promptly the whole plate fell in my lap.  Pancakes and syrup filled my lap…and I began to cry.  It really wasn’t as much about the loss of the pancakes, as it was about the loss of my dignity. Even at that young age I knew I had made a big mess and it felt like every person in the restaurant was looking at the kid who had messed up.

Of course, that wasn’t true.  The ones in the booth knew and I can’t remember their response.  The other two little ones, my sisters, weren’t known for being generous with kindness so I, and perhaps unfairly, assumed they had something to say about their baby brother.  And Daddy, well, he probably was like a lot of other Daddy’s and wondered what happened, how it happened and most of all, why it happened.  But then there was Momma.  As I remember, there were no words of condemnation for this mess I had made but rather a helping hand to begin cleaning up the mess. It seems I remember kindness when I deserved a “shaking down.” In other words, it seems she showed grace when I deserved none. It seems she showed mercy when I didn’t deserve that either.

Looking back, that seems like one of those times when Momma was a whole lot like God. Her child had made a mess and rather than judge she extended kindness. Now to be fair, Momma’s don’t always get it right…and neither do we. But that time…she did.  And guess what? We have a Dearest Daddy, who gets it right every time.  When we make a mess, He doesn’t chasten or belittle…no, He loves and gently helps us clean up the mess…a mess of our own making.  So today or tomorrow when you find yourself with a lap full of pancakes and sticky syrup, just remember the Father sitting by you is waiting to help.  You can rest assured that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, Integrity, life, pride, school days, Scripture, thankful, Trials

The Antlion

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Stay alert! Watch out for your great enemy, the devil. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour.” 1 Peter 5:8

Where I lived growing up, I could go fishing and lion hunting every day. It was such an adventure living at 6008 Carlton Road.  All the people who lived in the new subdivision being built across the street had no idea.  Imagine…lion hunting and fishing every day, any day, and it wasn’t my imagination.  You see, our house, like many older houses in northeast Florida was placed on blocks leaving a couple of feet of space between the house and the ground.  And that space was where lions lived, and fishing happened.

No, I wasn’t hunting the king of the jungle, and my fishing didn’t involve a pole or water…for that matter. Living under our house were the fierce larva of the predatory antlion…and they were just waiting for me to come along and challenge them.  You see the antlion lives in and loves soft sand…just like we had under our house at 6008. They had a tricky way to catch their food.  They would burrow in the sand and make a cone shaped pit and then hide in the bottom.  Ants or other insects would come along, fall into the pit, and the antlion would reach up from beneath the sand and grab them with their long pinchers and…well, it was game over.  Rarely did an insect survive the pit or antlion. And rarely did an antlion escape from Dewayne, the lion hunter.

To catch an antlion, you simply found a spider web, and trust me there were plenty, and twist it into a sort of thread thingy.  You would then attach that to a small stick and then…just go fishing.  I would crawl under the porch (one of my favorite spots) and look for the cone shaped pits of the antlion. After finding a good one—the bigger the pit, the bigger the prey—I would take my stick and ever so gently, and slowly, drag the spider web around the bottom of the pit.  The old antlion would think it was a poor, trapped insect and latch hold of the spider web and I would “reel” him in by raising the stick and out would come the antlion. Now what’s cool is that they would put up a pretty good fight.  Some of these guys were a half-inch long so it was very exciting!

What was kind of funny was that even after I pulled the antlion from out of the sand, he just kept hanging on. I’m not sure if he was just hungry or half blind but rare was the day that he just let go of the spider web.  Now, the story does have a happy ending.  This was strictly a “catch and release” thing. I would study him for a while and let him dangle a while before putting him back in the sand. If you are a regular Grits reader you know not everyone got off so easy. Many a “love bug” and ant suffered very different fates.

I was always amazed how easily these fierce hunters became “the hunted” and fell for the same old trick but then I realized how often we do the same thing.  Every day, or at least it seems that way, we are tempted to do something that just isn’t good for us or wise and yet time and again we fall for it.  Whether it is a food choice, a decision to put something in our brain that doesn’t need to be there, or to say something that is covered with barbs, we simply seem to fall for it time and again. Like I was intentional in my fishing for antlions, the Bible tells us someone, something is intentionally tracking us…hunting for us.

It was Peter (not Pan but the guy in the Bible) who talked about the devil being like a “roaring lion” and his mission is simple…find lunch.  Peter says that he prowls around “seeking someone to devour.”  No, he doesn’t actually eat us, but he does devour our character, our integrity, our legacy, our marriages, our careers, and that is just the short list.  The good news is that there is a lion hunter who wants to be on our side…and His name is Jesus.  Lions can be scary, but fear quickly flees with your Lion Hunter, never loses, and never misses, walks by your side.

So, if you find yourself like the ant who wandered around under my house and slipped into the pit, just know help is nearby.  Whisper a prayer or shout one out and the great Lion Hunter will be there.  He is never far away and always one step ahead of the antlions in our life.  Yup, you can rest assured, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, school days, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, wisdom

Dinner on the Grounds

Posted on 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 large and it was easy for someone 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 I suppose 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 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 in those days, 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. 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 will 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 of us.  He loved and 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 so 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.  Something I have learned is 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

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, life, love, priorities, school days, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful

Missing a Grade

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

I remember the days of old; I meditate on all You have done; I reflect on the work of Your hands.” Psalm 143:5

I’m not sure why…but there’s a gap. When I started school in Jacksonville, Florida there was no kindergarten.  It was like one day you were at home and then you weren’t.  My first four grades of elementary school were at Wesconnett Elementary School and the last two were at a brand-new school—Jacksonville Heights Elementary School. Unlike Wesconnett, that required a bus ride, the new school was only blocks down the road from my house. 

Wesconnett was old…really old. It was all brick and hot with no air conditioning. That is one reason why we didn’t start school till after Labor Day.  I remember it having large paned windows, oak floors, and tall ceilings.  Hundreds of footsteps would echo through those halls. And, to a little kid like me, it was big—like huge.  It was at Wesconnett that I met and fell in love for the first time.  She was older than me—my first-grade teacher—Mrs. Jones.  And, like the song from the seventies says, “we had a thing going on” or at least I did.  She was pretty (at least from my seven-year-old perspective) and she was nice.  I became her number one eraser cleaner.  But soon, it was time to move on.  So, I passed first grade, and it was so long Mrs. Jones.

By second grade I was a veteran.  A lot of the insecurities were gone, and I met Mrs. Webb.  She, like Mrs. Jones, was a kind teacher.  I think, though I am not sure, that my sister and I had our tonsils out about then and she had all the kids write me get well cards.  I can still remember how special it was to receive that big envelope from my classmates. Thank you, Mrs. Webb.  Third grade meant yet another teacher…this time Mrs. Wilson.  Now I don’t mean this in a mean way but she kind of reminded me of one of the witches from “The Wizard of Oz.”  She was an older lady and wore her hair in a tight bun and was quite stern.  I didn’t clean Mrs. Wilson’s erasers.  But looking back, she was a good teacher and she helped us learn and that is what mattered.  I managed to pass again, so soon it was so long Mrs. Wilson.

Fifth grade meant a new school (with air conditioning—smile) and yet another new teacher and her name was, get ready for it, Mrs. Slappy.  She was rather short, had bright red hair and was rather snappy.  Today I think I would use the word, “feisty.”  As I remember her class, it was fun, and I had a new responsibility.  She selected me (and a couple of others) to be trained to run the film strip projector and the movie projector.  It was a big deal.  When we were going to see a film strip or movie in class, one of us would go down and check out the equipment, set it up and operate it.  Wow…what responsibility and to think, she trusted me.  That was a big deal. Thank you, Mrs. Slappy.

My final year in elementary school, sixth grade, was a landmark year.  I had my first male teacher; Mr. Perry and I was selected to be a “patrol boy.”  Mr. Perry was, as you can imagine, a little different from Mrs. Jones in first grade but I remember him being imposing but fair.  He was a “rules” guy but if you followed the rules, you did ok.  That served me well then and really for the rest of my life.  I know it started at home but Mr. Perry reenforced it…a lesson well learned. Well, there you go, my parade of teachers. The end. Thanks for reading.

Well, not quite.  You see there was a reason I walked you through all of that.  Did you notice something? Well, if you noticed that there is a gap…you are right.  You see, for some reason, and who knows why, there is a total gap for the fourth grade.  I have absolutely no memories of my teacher, classmates, or surroundings.  I know it was Wesconnett but beyond that…zero…and that intrigues me.  I don’t know or believe it was anything bad…there is just a gap. In fact, it means that there was probably a good teacher who taught me, good friends that I met and played with and a whole year of great memories that, for some reason, I have forgotten. I.Have.Forgotten.

And that made me think.  How many other incredibly good things have I forgotten?  It seems we have no problem remembering all the bad stuff but sometimes we tend to forget the good stuff, the great stuff that comes our way.  I love writing about my days as a kid, but I wonder how many good stories I could write if I remembered all the other adventures that came my way.  How many more adventurous things came my way that …slipped away.  Hmmm.

Remembering the good always feeds gratitude and dwelling on the bad tends to feed the opposite. And, trying to fill unexplained gaps, well, can do the same.  Why don’t we celebrate the good, let the hard stuff stay in the rearview mirror and those gaps…just let them be.  I like what the writer of Psalms 145:3 said, “I remember the days of old; I meditate on all you have done; I reflect on the work of your hands.”  In other words, whether it was good, whether it was difficult or whether there is a gap, we know and celebrate one constant, “He’s got that.”  Bro. Dewayne