Category: Scripture

Posted in Family, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel

Greener Pastures

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

For everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” Romans 10:13

He was standing right in the road.  A while back my wife Judy and I were on the road again…heading for middle Tennessee.  We like to travel a lot…it’s just something we enjoy.  We love to see what’s new and different and there is always something.  We were on our way to a waterfall, and we had to travel down a narrow winding road.  As we were zipping along, at the breakneck speed of 25 mph, we rounded a curve in the road and there he was.

He was a young calf, oh, I would guess about 250 pounds grown.  He was calmly eating some weedy grass along the shoulder of the road.  It wasn’t a deal because I was going so slow but if I had been traveling a little faster…well, he could have been ground beef.  Oh, and by the way, what do you call a cow with no legs? Ground beef.  Get it?  Well, I probably lost some readers with that one.  Anyway, I slowed down a bit more and gently swerved around the calf.  I told Judy we should have snapped a picture.

As we drove around the calf, I couldn’t help but notice a couple of things.  First, his name must have been Houdini because there was no gate and as far as I could tell, we couldn’t see a hole in the fence where my new friend could have escaped.  Second, as he contentedly munched on his weedy grass, on the other side of the fence was a great pasture just filled with nice, lush, green grass.  It was obviously where he had been before he did his Houdini thing and escaped.  Why in the world would he leave that for where he was is beyond me.  The only answer I could come up with is…the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.

Well, we went on our way, and I told Judy when we came back let’s be sure and get his picture.  So, on the return trip as we neared the curve where he was before, we found an empty road.  Our friend had disappeared.  We traveled on a short distance and soon, off to our right, we found our calf.  Houdini had once again magically crossed the fence and this time was back in the greener pasture. How about that?  There were only two possible solutions.  One, he decided it was time to go home or two, in a moment of indecision he decided the grass was indeed greener on the other side of the fence…again.

Strangely, I can identify with the indecisive calf.  I mean, how many times have I changed my mind about this or that.  I know sometimes it takes me fifteen minutes to decide what toothpaste to buy or what to get on my hamburger.  I guess the bottom line is that we are a fickle bunch, aren’t we?  But I am so glad that God isn’t fickle.  I sometimes pray and tell God how glad I am that He has never changed His mind about allowing me into the family.  I mean I am sure I have given Him lots of reasons to do that but it never seems to faze Him.  I like that. A lot.

So, if you find yourself wondering back and forth in-between the pastures of life, just remember that when it comes to you and His love for you, well, God isn’t looking for greener pastures or different or better people for that matter. God loves people, all people, and anyone who wants to come and graze in His pasture is more than welcome.  The gate is always open to anyone who is willing to leave their old pasture and put their faith in His Son Jesus.  It’s that simple.  There’s a verse in the New Testament of the Bible that says anyone who is willing to ask can be forgiven and cross over to His ultimate green pasture.  So, how about you?  Ready to switch pastures?  He’s ready if you are.  You will find the gate open and Him showing you the way.  Trust me…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, heaven, life, prayer, Scripture, thankful, travel

And They Sang

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

The heavens declare the glory of God, and the expanse proclaims the work of His hands. Day after day they pour out speech; night after night they communicate knowledge.” Psalm 19:1-2

I think He was just showing off.  In one of our more creative moments, either my wife Judy or I thought it would be a great idea to take a little overnighter for Valentine’s Day.  So, we did.  There is place called Camp Ondessonk about 24 miles from our house.  They have a great cabin there and we decided to rent it for Friday night.  Now when I say cabin don’t think like rustic and primitive…think nice…like nicer than a Holiday Inn.  Well, we made a day of it.  First, we drove a couple of hours to a very special restaurant and had a great lunch.  Then we drove up to Paducah for a quick visit with one of the kids and their kids.  It was a great time.

Finally, it was time head to the camp and our cabin.  I have to admit I was a bit reluctant at first because it was a little pricy and I said to myself, “Self, it can’t be that nice.”  Well, once again, I was wrong because it really was…nice. We settled in and watched a little television.  Yes, they even had internet and television…I was just hoping for running water and indoor plumbing.  After a while, Judy said she was going to go out and check out the stars.  It was already below freezing and at first, I thought she had dropped a couple of her marbles.  Mark it down…wrong twice.

In a few minutes, she came back in and said, “Dewayne, you have to come outside and see this.  The stars are brighter than Africa.”  Now, I realize you probably haven’t been to Africa and looked up at the stars on a clear night.  They are so amazing I figured there was at least a possibility that she was exaggerating…just a little bit.  I slipped on my shoes and joined her on the deck.  She was right.  Without much light pollution, the stars were literally breathtaking. Imagine a field of diamonds, of every color of white and blue and all of different caret sizes. Now, imagine again and again and again. It was wonderful.

Well, we finally went back inside but before bedtime we wandered out one more time.  It seemed we couldn’t get enough of God’s wonder show.  Finally, it was bedtime and since we were in the middle of nowhere, Judy suggested we raise the blinds in the bedroom.  We did and lying there in bed we had a front row seat to the show all over again.  I just knew we were going to see a falling star or two but we didn’t but that was ok because the razzle, dazzle of the stars was more than enough.  All through the night, when I woke up to roll over, there they were shouting, singing, and showing the glory of God.

I know I might overuse this verse in Grits but this time, well, it is just so appropriate not to.  In the Old Testament part of the Bible, Psalms19:1-2, it says, “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the expanse proclaims the work of His hands. Day after day they pour out speech; night after night they communicate knowledge.” I have long loved that verse but after Friday I not only love it, but I also more fully understand it.  There before my eyes was part of God’s creation and their job was simply to proclaim His glory and they did it well…very well.

Judy and I are already planning another trip to one of our new favorite places. I sure hope when we go the skies are once again clear so God’s starry sky can once again proclaim His glory.  Lee Ann Womack sings a song about creation and God.  In that song she sings, “There is a God, there is a God, there is a God…how much proof do you need?  Well, I don’t know about you, but Friday night was enough for me.  Let me encourage you to go and find a good dark place the next time the skies are crystal clear.  Then…look up.  And if the world is dark enough you will see the choir singing about Him and then do two things.  First, remember He who made that made you and loves you immensely.  Second, remember and never forget that no matter what we are facing, He is bigger, and He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

Right Results. Wrong Guy.

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

I was driving and the phone rang. A few weeks ago, I signed up for an intense program provided by my insurance company to help manage my sugar problem.  I am in the very early stages of the program and one of the first things they did was provide an appointment to get a complete workup on my blood.  When the results came back, they were generally pretty good.  My own efforts to get my sugar numbers down had worked very well but it came at a price.  As I began to eat virtually no sugar and far less carbohydrates, I began to eat more protein…mainly meat and cheese.  Well, as the sugar numbers came down, my cholesterol numbers went up…not in the “oh, no” range but in the “You need to watch this” range.

Well, I was driving back from a funeral and the phone in my car rang.  You need to know my phone comes through my radio, so this was a hands-free call. Though I didn’t know the number, I decided to answer it anyway.  It turned out to be one of the doctors from my new program.  She said she needed to discuss some of the results on my labs.  I thought she was going to praise me for the relatively good numbers but instead she began a series of questions that clearly indicated she was very concerned.  Did I feel ok? Did I have a headache? Was I experiencing any chest pains? Shortness of breath?  Did I feel excessively tired or confused? I told her I was feeling very well and asked what was going on.

She explained they had received a second set of numbers from the lab and in a word, they were horrible—in fact, they were life threatening.  She told me she wanted to schedule another blood draw immediately and suggested I might need to go to the emergency room.  She promised to get back with me very quickly to see what the next step should be. Well, when I got back to the office, I rechecked my results and sure enough they were good.  Something didn’t make sense. Well, soon the phone rang again and it was a nurse checking back.  Apparently, almost assuredly, the lab had sent another set of results to them in my name—and they were most certainly bad.  To be sure, though, they scheduled me for another test and while the results are pending I’m sure I’m good.  But someone is not.

Out there somewhere is a person who most certainly does not feel well and who probably is going to get some really upsetting news.  They are sick…very sick. While I am very glad that person is not me, I couldn’t help but think about that poor soul who was about to get some yucky news.  If it wasn’t so serious it would be funny.  Trust me, if I knew who and where, I would be calling or knocking and letting them know they need to get the doctor…fast. I would let them know they were in danger of dying.  I wouldn’t let anything stop me.  They need to know the truth.

I know that would be the right thing to do. I would do it and most likely you would too.  But what about this?  Every day we bump into people who are in a greater danger than my unknown friend.  Every day we pass people who have no assurance of what is on the other side of their last heartbeat.  Every day we see and talk to people who are facing life and eternity without the hope of Jesus and the love of God in their lives.  They either haven’t heard or haven’t acted on the greatest news ever—that “God so loved the world that He gave His only Begotten Son that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.”

You see, just because my unknown friend doesn’t know, that does not exclude him from the consequences he is about to face.  Bad numbers are still bad numbers whether he or she knows them or not.  But they deserve the opportunity to act and that is where you and I come in.  Oh, I could assume they wouldn’t want to know.  I could assume they might be offended but wouldn’t they deserve the chance to know, to act, to decide?  Sure, they would.

If you are a Jesus follower, if your “numbers” are good today because of grace, if you can call God “Dearest Daddy,” why not share that news when an opportunity comes knocking?  We often let the fear of rejection override our willingness to share hopeful and helpful news.  Let’s let that stop today.  Let’s let someone know of a God who loves them.  Skip the spiel on religion and get to the heart of the matter…God loves them and no matter what they have done He will forgive them.  They need to know that He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, travel, Trials

I Can’t Hear You

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

But Peter said, “I don’t have silver or gold, but what I do have, I give you: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, get up and walk!” Acts 3:6 (CSB)

I can’t hear you.  A friend and I were standing on the shores of an island in Lake Victoria, Uganda, East Africa.  He was telling a Jesus story to a man and trying to determine if he knew Jesus.  While he was sharing another man walked up and began to listen.  At the end of the story, we asked a couple of questions.  The first man indicated that he knew this Jesus.  The other did not.  And he couldn’t hear.

Let me explain.  It wasn’t that he had a hearing problem.  His ears were working quite well.  It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand.  Our friend understood English and when we hit a bump our translator would jump in and help.  But he couldn’t hear.  Then he explained the problem.  He said something like, “I can’t hear about this Jesus because my stomach is so hungry.”

Now hunger is not usually a big issue in Uganda.  While the food may not be the best nutritionally it is usually sufficient in quantity.  Our friend was one of the exceptions.  For whatever reason he hadn’t eaten that day or maybe the day before.  The growling of his stomach was blocking his heart from hearing the message.  We tried to explain that while we may hunger here, God had a place in heaven where no one would be hungry. I decided to tell him another story from the Bible.

I told him the story of Peter and John entering the temple.  You can read it in Acts 3:1-10. It goes something like this. There was a crippled man there who made a living begging.  When he saw Peter and John, he thought they could help.  He looked up expectedly and perhaps even lifted his hand to receive a coin or two.  While his hand remained empty, he got something more than a coin.  Peter said, “We don’t have silver or gold but what we do have we will give you.  In the name of Jesus of Nazareth rise up and walk.”

As Peter reached his hand down and the man reached up, his ankles received healing strength and he stood and walked into the temple.  I smugly smiled my preacher smile.  The perfect story.  The perfect truth. Eternal is better than temporary. Surely my friends would see it, and everyone would go their way happy.  Only it didn’t happen.

I asked him “So what is better a few coins now or something that can change your life forever?”  I, of course, expected him to agree that the gift of eternal life is certainly more and better than a few coins or a quick meal.  His answer caught me totally off guard. He replied, “A few coins or some food.”  What?  I couldn’t believe what he was saying.  Surely, he understood.  Surely, I had made the story clear.

Then he said it.  “Heaven is good, but I am hungry now. I need food now.”  Well, sadly, he wandered off.  Still hungry.  Still lost. My friend continued to share with the first man but my heart was heavy and my mind on the other man.  Suddenly, I saw him again standing a few yards away. It was then I heard the Whisperer whisper.  It was short and simple.  “Give him food” the Whisperer said.  I had totally forgotten that in my backpack I had some tuna, chips, crackers for my own lunch.  I dug several items from my bag, as did my friend.

I walked over to the man and said, “This isn’t much but I hope it will quieten your stomach so you can hear Jesus.” He quickly took the food and left. There’s no bow on the package, no happily ever after ending, no prayer to receive Jesus.  But I know two things. I know he knew we cared, and I know he heard the truth and this time that had to be enough.  Maybe the seed would sprout later…only eternity will tell.

I learned a couple of things that day.  I learned that sometimes before we can share the Good News of the Gospel with a person, we need to touch them in a real tangible way.  A casual God bless you and a pat on the back doesn’t do much for an anxious soul or a hungry stomach.  We must talk Jesus, we must share Jesus, but we must be Jesus.  Someone said, “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.”

In these crazy, troubling times people need more than a sermon—they need to know we care.  How do we do that?  That’s the second thing I learned.  We must listen for the Whisperer.  We need to be sensitive to His gentle nudges. We must still our own souls and hearts if we are to hear His gentle voice. These days call for new ways…different ways.

So, as you walk about life, keep your eyes open, your heart still and watch in wonder at what God can do through you.  You don’t have to be in Africa to be on mission.  That can happen, must happen right here, right now.  And in these days of fear and frustration people are more ready to hear about God than ever before.  What a privilege to be entrusted with God’s work.  Up for the challenge?  God believes so.  Remember, He’s really big on you.  So, rest in Him.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Military memories, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful

A Grits Love Story

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Then the Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is just right for him.” Genesis 2:18

It happened just like that. I love grits…a lot.  I know some of you have no idea what grits are and have never tried them.  If you are from the North, I understand. If you are from the South, well, that’s just inexcusable. The problem with grits is that people want to mess with them by adding things like sugar and milk. Listen…you don’t mess with Texas, and you don’t mess with grits. When you add those two things to grits it changes their DNA and whatever it becomes is no longer grits.  It may be the same consistency, but sugar and milk rob grits of their heart and soul.

There are things you can add to grits.  The first three things on the list are salt, pepper and butter.  Grits were meant to be seasoned so don’t think a sprinkle of this, or a dash of that will get the job done.  You need to grab the saltshaker and get serious and do the same thing with the pepper.  Someone will say that salt is bad for your blood pressure.  Well, some things are worth the sacrifice.  The other things that bring grits to life are bacon, cheese and amazingly, shrimp. I’m telling you…grits are not the breakfast of champions…grits are the champion of breakfast.  If you learn to eat them right…you will never go back and the only question you will ask is, “Why did it take me so long?

I should have asked that question sooner in another season of my life. It was late summer of 1974 and I was coming out of a relationship that had gone on way too long. It was just time for it to end and it did.  I was in the Air Force and trust me an Air Force base nine miles from town in South Georgia can be a lonely place.  Imagine a bowl of grits without the salt, pepper, and butter and that was me. And then on a Wednesday night I decided to go to a local church.  Now I had done church all of my life, but walking into a strange church, by myself, on a Wednesday night, was not in my comfort zone.  But this bowl of grits needed some seasoning. So, I went hoping I would meet someone who might add some seasoning to my life.  And, just like that, it happened.

That night, I walked in the side door of the church and there was a small group of young ladies standing by the piano.  One, and only one, caught my eye.  Her name was Judy Allen, and that night was the beginning of a love story that has now stretched into a 46-year adventure of life and love.  I guess she was a little too young and maybe I was a little too old, but it was a different time and the bottom line…we fell in love.  That Georgia peach stole my heart and has never given it back.  I never thought of it this way, but I guess grits and peaches go together after all.

Through the decades and years, we have journeyed together…sometimes across town and sometimes across the world.  We built a legacy together that includes our three daughters, their husbands, and our grandkids…all eight of them. We first served our country together as an Air Force family and then served our God as a team—side by side in four different churches over 39 years. At each stop, I was the grits, and she was the seasoning.  She was and is a gifted servant in her own right, but she was also the salt, pepper, and butter that made me a better bowl of grits, a better man…a better pastor. I fully understand what God meant when He said in Genesis, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is just right for him.” Well, thank you God for that one.

Grits (what I write not the ones you eat) is just one more example of her seasoning me—encouraging me.  She had been nudging me for years to write and I simply wouldn’t listen.  And then COVID came along and on a whim, I wrote a very short story and posted it and almost a year later my fingers are still mashing keys.  What you may not know is that Judy once again was there to season my frail attempts.  She developed the blog and the Facebook page, and she proofs my words then designs the graphics.  She adds flavor to Grits—and our life and our ministry.

So, on purpose and without apology, let me tell her and you, just how much I love her and how grateful I am for the seasonings she has brought to my life.  There are two things I know.  First, I can’t imagine what life would have been if I hadn’t gone to church that night.  See, you oughta go to church!  But second, I can’t imagine what life would have been if this particular someone, by God’s amazing grace, hadn’t walked with me all these years. It seemed she always knew just how much salt, how much pepper and how much butter to add to this ole bowl of grits…and I love her for it.

So, there you go.  It’s a grits love story.  If you’ve tried grits (the kind you eat…not the ones you’re reading) and didn’t like them…you probably just didn’t have them seasoned right.  You might want to give them another try. And if you have someone in your life that, honestly, just feels a little bland, like grits without the good stuff, don’t give up on them.  Go ahead and be the seasoning in their life. You might be amazed, just like I was, how a little salt, a little pepper, and some butter can make a bowl of ground corn taste amazingly good. Oh, and then, don’t forget to also thank God because He’s the One who made it all possible anyway.  I’ve learned, and I am still learning, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Crash! Grind! Bummer.

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love.” Romans 8:38 (NLT)

It happened just like that.  I was new to the game…too new to the game.  I had had my driver’s license just a few weeks or at most a couple of months.  I can honestly say I wasn’t one of those cocky kid drivers, in fact I was probably scared to death. I had a job at a Food Fair a fair distance from where we lived at 6008 Carlton Road, and someone had to take me to work. Then my Daddy did it. He trusted me. One day he said that I could take the car and drive myself to work. They weren’t going anywhere, and it would save them from going and coming and coming and going.  I couldn’t believe it.

I remember the first time I carefully backed out of the driveway heading toward Ricker Road.  That day, and for several other days, things went well.  Again, I was careful, I didn’t break the rules and I wasn’t a speeder. Of course, our 1961 Plymouth station wagon wasn’t exactly a race car anyway.  There and back, I went, and all was well…until it wasn’t. One day, like several other days, I was going to drive to work.  Daddy car-pooled and wasn’t home yet.  I backed out of the driveway like every time before and headed for Ricker Road just like every time before…but it wasn’t like every time before.

Apparently, I had opened the back door on the driver’s seat to put something in the backseat and didn’t close the door all the way. As I pressed the gas pedal, the rear door swung open and that is when Mr. Inexperience took over. I heard the road noise, look over my shoulder and saw that the door was open. Well, instead of stopping and closing the door I tried to turn and reach over my shoulder to close the door.  When I turned and reached, I accidentally turned the wheel and, gulp, I ran right into—or actually over—one of our neighbors’ mailboxes. Crunch, grind, bummer.

I hit the brakes and sat there in total shock.  The mailbox was one of those that kinda sat on a little arm and that little arm had hit my windshield and cracked it.  It seems the mirror took a direct hit too. I was so afraid, and I didn’t know what to do…so I ran.  Yup, I was a hit and run driver, but I didn’t drive away…I ran away leaving the car running, my driver’s door open and the mailbox lying dead on the side of the road.

Since I hadn’t made it very far, our house was just a few dozen yards down the road, and I ran all the way. I ran into the kitchen and right into my Momma’s arms. She wanted to know what had happened and the best I could I explained it and then she asked where the car was and the best I could I explained that too. We went back to the car and brought it home and I’m sure Momma and I made a trip to the neighbor’s front door to explain what happened.

Let me tell you what didn’t happen.  Though I was certain it had—the world didn’t come to an end.  After a short while, Daddy came home, and I told him what had happened.  He wasn’t happy but he didn’t disown me…after all I was his son…before and after the accident.  I don’t believe there was any punishment either, but I am sure there was some instruction about how to close a door when the car is moving. “Stop. Close door.”  I also imagine there was some instruction about not leaving the scene of an accident.  And the neighbor…I simply don’t remember but I guess he didn’t press charges. Smile.

I’m sure my little accident cost my Daddy and Momma more than they could afford…even without repairing the mailbox.  I am sure it was money that could have been better used paying an electric bill or buying groceries for our “not too small” family.  But my best memory of all was the fact that Daddy and Momma loved me regardless and anyway.  Oh, I guess you could say it was because I was the baby of the family and their favorite (smile) but the truth is love ruled the day that day.

Looking back, I realize that was one of those times when my Daddy reminded me of my Dearest Daddy…my Heavenly Daddy. My Daddy could have extended wrath, but He extended grace and love—just like my Dearest Daddy…my Heavenly Daddy. I think I learned that day that my Daddy wasn’t someone to run from but to run to—just like my Dearest Daddy…my Heavenly Daddy. Paul, the one in the Bible, said that nothing can ever separate us from the One who loves us most.  How about that?  We have a Dearest Daddy…a Heavenly Daddy that is always there and always willing to whisper, “I’ve got that.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in friends, Grace, gratitude, Integrity, life, love, loving others, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful

HeartMaker

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek His will in all you do, and He will show you which path to take.” Proverbs 3:5-6

I watched and liked what I saw.  I am a pastor and have been one for just about 41 years.  It has been a great ride and I have to admit it still surprises me when I realize just how quickly time and has come…and gone.  I have been at my present church for going on 23 years and if the first number was surprising to me…the second is even more so.  To be at one place that long…to say hello to so many people and sadly goodbye to others…is eye-opening.  It also has been fun watching the kids grow up.  The guy who leads worship for us was five years old when I came.  Amazing.  I even had hair back then…or at least more.

In my 41 years serving as a pastor and in my 22 years here where I serve now, I have bumped into a lot of people.  Some of them were nice by nature. You know, always smiling, always optimistic, and always holding the door so someone could enter first. They never forgot a birthday and were always looking for ways to lend a helping hand.  When these folks met Jesus, there didn’t seem to be a lot to change…at least on the outside.  That’s one kind of people but there is another.  Take the opposite of everything I just wrote and meet the other side of the fence. And this is what is really exciting because it so shows the power of the gospel.

I love to hear everyone’s Jesus story but I especially love the ones where the change Jesus brings is like night and day.  It’s kinda like when you mow your grass and it really needs it…you stand back and say, “Wow…that looks better.” Now to be sure, every Jesus story is a “wow” story but to see a rough old sinner become a saint by God’s grace is simply amazing. And here’s the deal.  Whether it is someone who oozes kindness or someone as rough as a corncob, the truth is they are who they are because of the Heartmaker.

I was officiating at a funeral one day for one of those really good people and I told the audience that we should remember that the person we were honoring that day was who they were because of Jesus.  When they met Him, the Heartmaker gave them a new heart…a heart just like His. Tucked away in the Old Testament part of the Bible is a word picture of this.  It says, “And I will give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony, stubborn heart and give you a tender, responsive heart.” That’s what the Heartmaker does for every person who chooses to follow Him.

I’ve said before, “I wish I had that person’s heart.” Oh, I’m generally a pretty nice guy but when I see someone who seems to do Jesus really well, it creates a longing in me to be more like them which is more like Jesus. The good news is that we don’t have to wish…all we must do is ask and the Heartmaker will come to the rescue.  But you need to know this…a heart like Jesus doesn’t come cheap…it will mean seeking, surrendering, and maybe suffering…just like Jesus.  It means loving the unlovable and forgiving those who hurt us the worse..just like He would.

There is a story about a young pastor who was visiting with an old, respected pastor. The young pastor said he wished he could have the maturity and respect he saw in the older pastor’s life.  The elderly statesman said, “Son, those things came into my life through great toil and suffering.  Are you ready to pay that price?”  Not surprising, his answer was no.  We can all admire a man or woman with a great heart but how many of us would be willing to pay the price that comes with it?

The truth is all of us who are Jesus followers can and should have a heart like Jesus…the Heartmaker. I think the path that leads to a Jesus heart is found in Proverbs 3:5-6 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek His will in all you do, and He will show you which path to take.” If you’re interested in having a heart like Jesus, it starts with asking the HeartMaker. Trust me—He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, friends, gratitude, life, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, travel, Trials

Liver Anyone?

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

If you need wisdom, ask our generous God, and He will give it to you.” James 1:5b

They were laying there taking a bath in rich, brown gravy.  Well, we had to make a trip to the South when my brother died.  He lived where I was raised, Jacksonville, Florida and was laid to rest next to our Daddy and Momma.  Well, if you know anything about Florida, you know that sitting right north is Georgia and you know the quickest way to Florida, and Disney World, is down Interstate 75.  Finally, and we are going somewhere…no pun intended…if you go down Interstate 75 to Florida you must go through Valdosta, Georgia.

As I understand it, there are only two Valdosta’s in the whole world…one in Georgia and one in Italy. Well, Judy was raised in the one in Georgia and that is where we were married so I think you could say that Valdosta is kinda home for us.  Well, we are big fans of southern cooking and there is a place in Valdosta called the Old Time Country Buffet and it has become a favorite of ours.  So, a couple from our church was visiting in South Florida and we managed to meet them on our way to Jacksonville in Valdosta.  They were offering a free lunch and a hug—both sounded really good.

So, we met at the buffet and before long I was introducing them to everything from cream corn to collards to fried chicken.  As I circled the buffet, I saw something that looked good…real good. It was a pan full of rich brown gravy and swimming in the gravy were thick slices of beef.  I had to have some.  I stabbed a couple of pieces of beef, spooned up some gravy, both for the meat and my mashed potatoes and moved on.  Things were good and they were about to be better…or so I thought.

I got back to the table, showed my plate to my friends and dove in. One of the first stops on the grand tour of my “heaped high” plate was the beef and gravy. It was tender and looked delicious and without hesitation I took a nice, big bite.  Well, immediately I thought to myself, “Hmmm, maybe beef with gravy isn’t their specialty.” It had a twang to it that I thought tasted familiar. I couldn’t quite identify it, so I took another bite and it just wasn’t good…and then I remembered.  That strange twang was not beef…it was liver…beef liver.

There are only a few things in the food world that I don’t like, but liver is definitely one of them. Yuck. Gross. I realized I had been tricked…fooled…betrayed.  Well, needless to say, that was the end of the liver.  I always try to clean my plate…usually motivated by the memory of starving kids in Africa…but this was one time the liver was heading to the trash.  Not even guilt could force me to eat this beef wanna be.

I told the people at the table how I thought it was one thing and it turned out to be something else and now…I am telling you.  It may have looked like beef but all the looks in the world wasn’t gonna change its true identity…its true taste. There was probably a sign that properly identified this “sheep in wolves clothing” but my eyes were on the pool of gravy and not the little sign.

Now I know and you know that this doesn’t just happen at buffets.  The truth is our world is filled with things that seem to be one thing and in fact are something totally different. Now if we take the time and look closely, hints of truth are usually all around but we too often see what we want see.  What we need to see is the truth.  So, the next time you are tempted to take the plunge, be sure and know what you are diving into.  Before you throw away a marriage and family, before you toss out your character, before you take a swim in the pool of regret…take the time to evaluate and count the cost.

Jesus said one time that it is foolish for a man to start building a tower before counting the cost.  After all, think how foolish he would look if he started it and couldn’t finish it…sorta like stabbing beef and getting liver.  James, the half-brother of Jesus, said that if we lack wisdom, all we need to do is ask God and He will gladly give us what we need. Beef or liver—your choice but remember this—even when we mess up God will be there to help us.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Grace, gratitude, life, priorities, Scripture, thankful, wisdom

Tulip Bulbs

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up.” Hebrews 12:1b

It was one of the craziest things I have seen.  In my spare time or when I need to check out, I like to watch television…but not like you might think.  You see, a long time ago I kinda checked out on network television.  It finally got crazy enough that I decided I just didn’t need it.  I know there are some good shows out there but for me the craziness overshadowed them.  For years now, my viewing habits centered around house stuff, nature stuff, travel stuff, history stuff, and stuff-stuff or how this works or that works.

Anyway, was watching a travel show and this episode was on Holland.  On this show, they would fly all over the country and talk about what you were seeing. If you know anything about Holland you know they are famous for wooden shoes, windmills, canals and, wait for it, tulips.  So, they were flying over a tulip farm.  Imagine, if you can, this massive field of every color of tulip imaginable. It was truly beautiful.  I’m thinking how all the flowers will end up in the flower markets around Europe and how much joy they will bring to the people who bought them or received them.

And, then, it happened.  Are you ready? Probably not. The angle of the camera changes some and it shows a tractor, and it is not harvesting the flowers—it is cutting them down. Say what? Yup…if I’m lying, I’m dying.  The massive clipper thing was laying waste to zillions and zillions of flowers. And, in case you’re wondering, no one was coming along and picking them up.  They were laid—not to rest but to waste. What in the world is going on?  Well, here is deal.

This farm wasn’t in the flower business…it was in the bulb business.  In other words, they were not selling flowers, they were selling the bulbs that produced the flowers.  Their logic was simple—and even scientific.  The flowers would drain the bulb of nutrients and they discovered that if they cut the flowers, the bulbs would benefit directly. Bigger and healthier bulbs meant a better price and for them…a bigger profit. While I still don’t understand why they couldn’t find a way to save the flowers, I think I understand why they did what they did.  But what a waste.

The big truth here is really big.  How can this apply to our life journeys, our Jesus journey?  Well, the answer is this.  When we are willing to lay aside the good for something better, or the better for the best, it suddenly makes sense.  We all have things in our lives that may not be bad but the question to ask is, “Are they the best?” And remember—best is always better than better.

The author of Hebrews, which sounds like it belongs in the Old Testament instead of the New says, in Hebrews 12:1, “Let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up.” In other words, whatever causes us to not run our life race effectively, needs to be discarded—no matter how much it is liked—no matter how attractive it might be.  We may need to cut the optional to enhance or save the essential.  Worth it? Always.

Now when I first saw them cutting the flowers, it just seemed so illogical, and we might feel the same way when we started choosing best over better but remember this.  God knows what is best, He desires the best for us, and He will help us choose the best if we will but ask.  It’s just another of those times when He’s waiting to let you know, “I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, life, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Me, Momma, and Mrs. Crabtree

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

When He saw the crowds, He had compassion on them because they were confused and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” Matthew 9:36

I went just a little too far.  When you are an overactive six-year-old, church can be quite difficult.  My pastor was one of my favorite people but when you’re an overactive six-year-old, preaching can be, well, a little boring.  I’ve always loved church music but when you’re an overactive six-year-old, well, the best singers just aren’t enough.  Momma tried to keep me busy.  Her favorite tool was to give me the bulletin and a pen or pencil and I would color in all the little circles.  You would be amazed how many different little circles there were each week.  Well, that would work for a while, but you know, when you are an overactive six-year-old, nothing is going to work for long.

Well, one particular Sunday, the circle thing didn’t even make it past the song service.  By the time they were passing the plates I was out of things to do.  The service was always very predictable.  There would be an opening song, the announcements, a couple of more songs, then the offering, a special music thing, and then the preaching.  After the pastor finished, we would have one more song and call it a day.  Of course, there were always a couple of prayers thrown in for good measure.  So, I knew it was just about time for the preacher to start preaching when I heard Mrs. Rosalyn Crabtree start singing.

Now let me tell you right now, Mrs. Crabtree could flat sing.  I don’t know if she had voice lessons or not, but she sounded like one of those opera singers.  When there was a solo in the choir it was usually Mrs. Crabtree who sang, and more often than not, she sang right before the preacher.  She and her husband Jake were two of my favorite people too.  They taught me in the youth department when I got older, and we even had Rosalyn sing at our wedding when my wife and I were married.  They were great folks.

But this Sunday, well, it was just destiny that I was going to get in trouble.  I was bored by the time the offering was done, so I started poking Momma in the side.  She had her girdle on and it always amazed me just how tight that thing was.  Well, she finally had enough of the poking and said so in a way that I knew if I continued, it wasn’t going to be pretty.  But then Mrs. Crabtree started to sing.  Well, while she was singing, I decided to cover my ears with my hands. Why?  Well, I guess that is what overactive-six-year-olds do.  Well, when I took my hands down there was obviously a big sound difference.  So, I put them back up and then took them down.  I had discovered a new game.

I thought this was a pretty grand entertainment. Momma didn’t think so.

I found out if I did this fast it made a “wa-wa” sound in my ears.  The faster my hands covered and uncovered my ears, the faster the “wa-wa.” I thought this was pretty grand entertainment. Momma didn’t think so. I stopped for a minute but decided it was worth the risk. It wasn’t.  Before I knew it, she and I were heading out the door. I had crossed the line and me and Momma had a little “come to Jesus” meeting.  And do you know what?  That urge to put my hands over my ears strangely disappeared and has never returned.  I guess you could say that Momma discovered a vaccine for that like the one for the COVID virus and it was highly effective. Very.highly.effective.

I am glad that I had a Momma who knew how and when to administer a little discipline…even if it meant taking me out smack dab in the middle of church.  And I am glad that we had a church where no one smirked, and no one said I shouldn’t be there.  We had a church where families and kids were more than welcome and I have tried to make sure that at the churches I pastor, the same is true today.  Rich or poor, black, white, or brown, young, or old—everybody is welcome.  I know that is the way it ought to be because that is the way that Jesus did it. I figure if that was the way He did it—we should do it too.

One time when Jesus was teaching, He looked at the people and had compassion on them because He saw them like a flock of sheep needing a shepherd. Compassion—love in action.  Compassion—love that says come on in, you are welcome here.  I like that.  You see, God is an inclusive God.  He even invites overactive six-year-olds like me and you into His presence.  And He’s always ready to help, always ready to love and always ready to say, “Don’t worry…I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne