Category: Southern born

Posted in Family, fear, food, forgiveness, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, Trials, wisdom

Green Gold

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

There it was…green gold.  Well, it isn’t news to hardly anyone but inflation is here and it is quite healthy.  I don’t go to the store, especially the grocery store, too often.  I suppose that helps feed (no pun intended) the sticker shock when I do.  I’ve lived way long enough to enjoy telling my grandchildren and those significantly younger than me about “the good old days.”  And if inflation is good for nothing else, it sure gives me more fodder for my “good old days” stories.

My wife Judy and I are both from the south and like many Southerners, we are fans of things southern, especially food.  Enter, stage right, watermelon.  Both of us are big fans of watermelon but my wife is president of the watermelon fan club.  The only thing I have never understood is her need to baptize her watermelon with salt.  It just doesn’t make sense.  Well, starting about this time of the year, it is not uncommon for her to go to the store and come home with a watermelon.  And then it happened.

She indeed got to the store, not looking for a watermelon but since the produce department is at the entrance, she wandered through.  And, there they sat…watermelons.  The store had a whole big bin of them…there for the taking.  And then she saw the price.  These small, round watermelons, from Mexico mind you, were there for the taking for…wait for it…just about ten dollars each. What? You’re kidding, right?  Nope.  And just in case you don’t live in a watermelon world, a year ago a high price would have been less than half that.

She sent a picture of the bin of green gold to the family group text, and we all groaned and moaned.  Later that night she also shared that four, count them, four ears of sweet corn were over four dollars…more than a dollar an ear.  And the hard news is if Judy loves watermelon…she craves sweet corn.  What in the world is going on?  And I thought people hoarding toilet tissue was weird.

You see, when I was a kid, watermelons had seeds and were the shape and size of the Goodyear blimp.  These monsters often weighed twenty or more pounds, were always sweet as honey and cost fifty cents.  Slowly, over time, they shrank and a really sweet one is like finding a needle in a haystack.  Corn, not too terribly long ago would set you back a couple of dollars for a dozen—not two ears. What in the world is going on?

Well, they say it is all about supply chain issues, the price of fuel, the state of world politics and Bigfoot.  Well, no one has mentioned Bigfoot yet, but I’m sure it figures in there somewhere.  Prices are in such a flux that sticker shock and the potential for higher prices tomorrow dominate too much of our time and energy.  If only there was something that hasn’t gone up.  There is.

I am glad to report that God has not raised His prices.  He still offers eternal life to anyone who believes for the grand total of…zero.  How is that possible? When He came up with the plan to let us become part of His family, He paid the entire bill—and what a bill it was.  It involved His Son being nailed to a cross and dying for the sins of the whole, entire, world. Every man, woman or child who believes and asks receives a clean bill (no pun intended) of spiritual health.   Every sin, no matter what, is forgiven.  It has been that way since the first Christmas and Easter, and it will stay that way.  He is not going to raise the rate.

You won’t find a better deal no matter how far and wide you look. Someone said heaven isn’t about doing…it is about done.  It is not about keeping a bunch of rules…it is about a relationship with the One who made us all. So, if you are shopping for some hope, if you are in the market for a new beginning, you need to start right there.  I bought in (no pun intended) a long time ago and it was the best decision of my life, and it will be the best decision of your life too.  Paul, the guy who wrote a chunk of the New Testament, wrote that anyone, a.n.y.o.n.e., who asks will be forgiven.  What a deal.

Well, I’m not sure what is going to happen with me and Judy and our watermelon habit.  I’m not sure what she will do about sweet corn gold either, but I do know this.  No matter what, my Father, the One who creates watermelons and sweet corn, has it covered.  He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Easter, Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, wisdom

The Easter Suit

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

But God demonstrated His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8

It’s just another one of those special memories.  It was spring in Jacksonville, Florida—number fifteen or so in my life journey.  Back in those days, Easter was a big deal, and so was what you wore.  We were raised in the tradition that Easter meant a new outfit…it is just what we did.  But just like Christmas beliefs and traditions sometimes change…so did this Easter tradition.  As we got older…the new outfits got fewer and fewer—but then—for some reason, it happened.  One year, when I was in my mid-teens, Momma and Daddy loaded me up in the car, drove across town to a men’s store for the sole purpose of buying me an Easter suit.

I’m not sure what prompted this or a hundred other sacrifices they made for us, but it happened.  The name of the store is lost to time, but it may have been Tatum’s—a store known for quality men’s clothing at a good price.  So, we arrived and went in and soon I was trying on suits.  They say some things never change and that is true.  Today when I shop for just about anything it isn’t the label that matters or even the style—price takes the day.  It is a matter of practicality and budget.  It is true today and it was true even then.  Remember, somethings don’t change.

Soon, with the help of our salesperson, we had settled on a subtle green tweed suit.  It was a very nice suit and it was on sale. I would later realize that might have been because it was a rather heavy wool material and there wasn’t a lot of demand for that in Florida.  Regardless, it was soon mine.  But Momma and Daddy weren’t done yet.  The salesman led us over to the shirt department and together we picked out a creamy yellow shirt that matched the suit perfectly.  But wait…there was more.  Next came a tie.  To this day I can remember this—my first tie—bought just for me.  It was a loosely woven linen striped tie of pastel colors.  Again, a perfect match for the new suit and shirt.

There was some tailoring to the done but by Easter I was set and dressed to the nines.  That morning, I assembled my new outfit and headed off to church.  I was so proud but for a special reason…one you have read in Grits before.  I was proud because of all my parents had done to make sure I had a new Easter suit. Why that year? I don’t know.  Maybe it was because I was stepping into manhood.  All I know is that year, and for several years that followed, the subtle green wool suit, which was too warm for Florida weather, owned a place in my closet. It was special and that was all that mattered. It was a suit of love…a suit of sacrifice.

Looking back their Easter sacrifice became even more special. You see that gift and sacrifice reminded me of the gift and sacrifice that God made for us that first Easter.  He gave His best, His only Son to a Roman cross so we could be forgiven and dressed in His righteousness.  And unlike my suit that was a little too warm for Florida…His gift was perfect…in more ways than one. A perfect sacrifice for an imperfect world filled with imperfect people. And why? Because of love.

Easter, Resurrection Sunday, is in the rearview mirror now but it would serve us well to remember that every time the sun rises, it reminds us of what happened that Sunday morning so long ago. It is no accident that Christians worship on Sunday…by design it is a celebration of the resurrection. I’m not sure how long I held onto that subtle green, too warm, suit but I have never forgotten the love that bought it for me.  And I’m sure I will never forget the love of a God who cared enough to give His very best so that we could call Him “Dearest Daddy.”

Paul, one of the writers of the New Testament wrote a letter to the Christians in Rome.  In it, he gave them an Easter suit of sorts, a reminder of God’s great love.  He wrote, “But God demonstrated His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”  Imagine that—broken and unworthy—and yet He loved, and He gave.  As we journey this week, don’t leave the message of Easter behind.  He loves us, He cares for us, and He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Stinky Football & Me

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Speak the truth, each one to his neighbor, because we are members of one another.” Ephesians 4:25b

She told me what I didn’t know.  If you read Grits even occasionally you know that I was born special…the baby of eight.  After seven tries Momma and Daddy got it right.  Yes, it is and was a burden to bear but someone had to do it.  I was so special my brothers and sisters called me “Precious” though I’m not sure it was a term of endearment or endangerment.  Of course, all of that is written in jest but the bottom line is…I was the baby of the family and that made me special.

Even us special people don’t always get it right.  In fact, truth be known, we might get it wrong more often than the rest.  Sometimes that is a result of being just a little spoiled and sometimes it is just not knowing and one night, I found that out.  My oldest brother Reggie and his wife Sonia played a big part in my growing up.  Reggie is like sixteen years my senior and of course Sonia almost as many.  In my growing up years they were one of the main reasons I managed to stay in church.  They were regular attenders and would swing by the house and make sure I had a ride to church.

Because church was such a big part of my social world, I went all the time.  All.The.Time.  We had church three times a week and I was there.  My favorite time to go to church, though, was Wednesday nights.  We had this cool group of guys, led by two really cool older guys, and we had a great time learning about Jesus and stuff.  But it was what happened after the Jesus time that topped it all—football.  Our church had a large field out back and we would get together and play every Wednesday night after our class.  And we played real football too…tackle.

Of course, this was North Florida and most times that meant it was hot so by the time we were done we were hot, sweaty, and well, stinky.  The only problem was I didn’t have a clue.  You see no one in the Taylor tribe had ever told me about the wonders of deodorant…Daddy didn’t, Momma didn’t, my sisters didn’t. So often, I was a stinky mess.  It was just about then that my sister-in-law Sonia came to the rescue.  I can remember it like it was yesterday.  We were done at church, we had played football and I was, well, you know.

Reggie and Sonia had a two door Pontiac Lemans. That night Sonia was holding the door open and the seat back so I could crawl into the backseat and that is when it happened.  When she got into the car and closed the door, she said, “Dewayne, has anyone ever told you about deodorant?” Well, I replied truthfully and replied, “No ma’am.” And, without explanation, she simply said, “Well, honey (everyone was “honey”), you need to wear some.”

Well, shoot that thing, no one ever told me about that.  I knew about taking a bath and I probably knew about slapping on some smell good stuff, but I sure didn’t know I stunk and that there was something to help with that. Well, that changed everything.  I guess I went home and found some deodorant and started wearing it.  It probably made me just a little more popular with my friends…especially the girls.  If she hadn’t told me the truth, I would probably be a single hermit living somewhere in the Appalachian Mountains or something.

You see, Sonia told me something I needed to know…and I’m glad she did.  It probably wasn’t easy…though she was always telling Reggie how to drive. Smile. But since she knew the truth would set me free from a stinky situation…she cared enough to speak up. So, do you know someone that needs to hear a truth…even if it is hard?  And, more importantly, are you willing to share that truth?

All of us have someone in our world that needs this but there is one thing that is key.  In order to earn the right to share truth we need to have a relationship, a trust, with the person.  Sonia’s hard truth did not offend me because I knew she loved me.  Her truth wasn’t to embarrass, but to help and that made all the difference in the world. That’s what Paul, the New Testament writer meant when he said, “Speak the truth, each one to his neighbor, because we are members of one another.” Sincere truth speaking isn’t judgmental…it is helpful.

If you know someone who needs a little truth, think about it and then carefully and tactfully share with them.  That is no guarantee that it will go well but at least you will know that you did your part. And if it does go wrong and you end up in bit of a storm, don’t worry, don’t be discouraged because, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, USA, wisdom

“Southern Style Jesus”

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and He will give you everything you need.” Matthew 6:33

It was a sight for sore eyes. A while back when my aunt died, I went down to be a part of her memorial service.  It was a special time for me since it was my Daddy’s baby sister.  Though he has been gone since 1974 it was an opportunity to honor him.  The funeral was in Gainesville, Florida and the return trip gave my wife and I an opportunity to travel some Southern back roads.  We chose to travel north through Alabama, and it turned out to be a real adventure.

Judy and I are both from the South.  She is from Valdosta, Georgia and I am from Jacksonville, Florida. There are just certain things about living in the South that are special.  You will find things run just a bit slower there.  It’s not uncommon to find an older gentleman in an old pickup truck going nowhere in a hurry.  It is a southern thing.  It’s not uncommon to see homesteads with old tin roofs often tinted with a rich red rust.  It is a southern thing. It’s not uncommon to see old groves of giant pecan trees ready for a rich harvest of nuts.  It is a southern thing.  It’s not uncommon to see old tobacco barns with smoke slowly drifting skyward as the brown leaves dry.  It is a southern thing.

There are many things like that in the South and each one a treasure to those who recognize them.  But if there is one thing that marks the South, if there is one treasure above the rest, it is good southern cooking.  You can find it in most kitchens in those older homes.  Mommas are teaching their daughters (and sometimes their sons) how to season green beans and fry chicken or mash potatoes.  If you’ve never eaten southern comfort food…well, you’ve never eaten well!

As we were traveling north through rural Alabama, we were seeing all these things and reliving our roots.  It was time (actually past time) for breakfast, so we began looking for a place to eat.  We found ourselves in Luverne, Alabama.  It is a small town which happens to be one of the treks to the beaches in Florida…so it gets a fair amount of traffic.  We had traveled through before for that very reason.  We were looking for a “mom and pop” place and we found Taters.  It was a small restaurant in Luverne, and it looked like just the spot.  “Taters” was in yellow on the front of the barn red building.  It had a “Jesus 2020” sign planted by the entrance.  Things were looking promising.

We went in and immediately noticed the decor.  It was, shall we say, “Southern Jesus.”  Hand lettered Scriptures filled the walls.  The napkin holders had the same.  Back by the restrooms was a big sign about God.  The server was as friendly as a Chick-fil-A employee on steroids. We ordered our food and waited.  Soon, sitting in front of us was one of the most delicious breakfast meals I have tasted in years.  There were three eggs sunny-side up (that means the yokes were sitting there like three small suns), a side of hash browns cooked nice and crispy, three strips of thick cut bacon cooked like it should be—limp. And then there it was.

“It” was a real big spoon full of southern cooked grits. These weren’t the instant variety—they were the slow cooked kind.  And right in the middle of that pile of grits was a puddle of melted butter.  It was southern manna—it was heaven.  And trust me—everything was as good as it looked.  Now, no lectures about heart attacks, I don’t eat like that all the time, but that time—I did so with no regrets—not even one.  But here’s the surprise—that wasn’t the most important thing.  The thing that mattered most was the Jesus part.  You see this was a restaurant that served up Jesus first and just happened to also serve good food.  Their mission was Jesus, and their food was a side dish.  I was really glad they could cook, but I was blessed by their Jesus boldness.  I walked out with a full tummy, a full heart, and a life lesson.

You see, if we follow Jesus, He must be the center of our universe.  Our digital sign at church sometimes says, “Jesus First. Before. Anything. Else. Period.”  That is what Taters in Luverne, Alabama is doing.  Food is second to Jesus.  So, what about you?  What about us?  Are you a teacher first and then a Jesus follower? Are you a CEO first and then a Jesus follower?  Are you a coal miner first and then a Jesus follower?  Are you a preacher first and then a Jesus follower? What about this?  What if we started reversing that?  How about a Jesus follower who happens to be a teacher; a Jesus follower who happens to be a CEO; a Jesus follower who happens to be a coal miner or, yes, a Jesus follower who happens to be a preacher.

Jesus First. Before. Anything. Else. Period. That would be a game changer.  Jesus said if we would “seek His Father first and live for Him, He would give us everything we need.” These days, any day, that is an essential. These chaos infested days we are living in are golden opportunities to be a light in a dark world.  But we can only do that effectively if Jesus stops being an add on to our lives and becomes our lives.

The next time I am driving through Luverne, you can bet I will stop for some good food and a good helping of “Southern Jesus.”  They might not be there because “Jesus first” can be risky.  In their case it might cost them business.  If you do “Jesus first” it may cost you a friend or two or maybe a promotion, or maybe your popularity. Regardless, it is worth it. One more piece of travel advice. As you travel life’s hectic highway, stop, and take a rest with Jesus.  And go ahead and be sure and put Him first.  Risky? Yup.  But, hey, remember, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

“Yes, Sir”

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

My sheep hear My voice, I know them, and they follow Me.” John 10:27

Bummer.  I knew I should have listened.  I have always liked music and I have always loved to sing.  From the time my mother forced my oldest sister to allow me to sing at her wedding…I’ve been hooked.  Not only do I like music I generally like all kinds of music.  To me music is the melody of life.  It often expresses emotions and feelings that otherwise might go unexpressed. So, I sing…loud and all the time.

You know, some people say, “I saw you at the store the other day.”  Not me.  People will say, “I heard you at the store the other day.”  Regardless of where I am there is usually a song somewhere close by.  And the funny part is you never know what you will get.  It might be “Amazing Grace” or Hank Williams’ “Your Cheatin’ Heart.”  That’s not an issue except for the fact I work at a church.  It can be kinda strange.

I also have a hard time getting the words right.  I know some of the words to hundreds of songs but unfortunately know all the words to very few.  People used to correct me when I would get the words wrong.  Most finally gave up.  Now they just smile. I should have listened a long time ago when someone would try and correct me.  Especially since that time in basic training.

Basic training in the Air Force is that time when they teach you how to be an airman.  That includes knowledge and action.  Clearly it involves learning to follow orders.  I was raised in the South so saying, “Yes, sir” or “Yes, ma’am” came really easy for me.  I was even a pretty compliant person.  But one day, well, I just missed it.

For some reason I was in the barracks by myself, and I was letting it go.  It was an old hymn, maybe “Amazing Grace.”  From somewhere a voice boomed, “Shut-up.” Well, I thought it was one of the guys jerking my chain, so I kept right on singing at the top of my lungs.  From somewhere the booming voice boomed again, “I said shut-up.”  It was just about then that I vaguely remembered hearing that voice before.  “Oh, that’s right,” I said, “that’s the voice of my drill instructor, Sergeant Catchings.”  Oops.  Game, set, match.

So here he comes from somewhere and he is madder than a hornet.  “Taylor,” he said, “didn’t I tell you to shut up?” he boomed in his drill sergeant voice.  I knew there was no use trying to explain that I didn’t know it was him, so I just muttered a weak, “Yes, sir.”  Then he walks over to the mop closet, opens the door and invites me to step inside.  Gulp.  I step inside and as he shuts the door he said just one word, “Sing!”

So, with all its odors and in the dark, I start belting out “Amazing Grace.”  After a few verses, he opens the door and says, “Do you know, “Rock of Ages?”  “Yes, sir” I said.  Once again came the one-word command, “Sing.” The door closes, and I sing.  After a few verses, the door opens and he said, “Do you know…” and he named another hymn now long forgotten. “Yes sir” I said. You know what he said, “Sing.”  Well, after a few verses the door opens and he says, “Get out.”  I wasn’t sure if he meant out of the closet or out of the Air Force and I didn’t stick around to find out.  I got out.

Well, I learned something that day.  It is important that I learn to recognize and obey the voices around me…especially those that might be in charge.  I never missed the voice of Sergeant Catchings again.  When I heard that booming voice…I listened. No more mop closets for me. I learned that day to listen for my drill instructor and even more importantly, I’m learning to listen for God.

You see, one day Jesus was describing His followers to a bunch of religious bad guys.  He said, “My sheep (code for followers) know My voice. I know them and they follow Me.” That verse, in English, has 12 very important words.  First, He said, “My sheep know my voice.” Check.  We need to recognize Jesus’ voice.  Amid all the noise of the world we have got to hear Him.  Second, He said, “I know them.” Wait, what? He knows us. I like that.  It means that He has a relationship with me.  He is looking out for me.  It also means He knows my quirky habits like singing too loud in the middle of Walmart…and loves me anyway.  Last, “They follow me.” What He is saying is that followers follow. Plain and simple.  Follow Him and you might avoid the “mop closets” of life. Trust me…I’ve been there and done that.  It’s not the kind of place you want to visit or sing in.

I’m sure Sergeant Catchings had my best interest in mind.  He was there to teach me discipline and he did. Looking back, I’m sure he thought it was all pretty humorous.  So do I…now.  But that day, well, I just wish I had listened a little closer.  These days, I’m learning to listen for the whisperer whispering, “Don’t worry.  I’ve got this.” And I believe He does. Bro. Dewayne

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

Sinning Starts Early

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

I used to think I was a pretty good kid. As I have shared with you from my past, various memories come to life. Some are humorous, some are serious, some are painful, and some are, well, criminal. I still think the crime of the century was when I decided to rob the little world bank that my Mama brought home from church…for safekeeping. But there was at least one more thing that I did that proved for certain I was, and still am, a sinner.

I was probably eight years old.  While there wasn’t a Wal-Mart to be found there were other stores that were the forerunners of today’s retail mega-giant.  Ours was called Atlantic Mills and it was the place to go for good deals for just about anything you could imagine.  I remember it well because that is where we bought our Easter outfits.  We would go either Friday or Saturday before Easter (depending on Daddy’s payday, of course) and the girls would get their patent leather shoes and frilly dresses and I would get a shirt and tie.  Even then it was quite the event.

Easter wasn’t the only time we went to Atlantic Mills.  We would occasionally go just to shop around.  Of course, at my young age, I equated shopping with buying. I still do.  Why go to a store if you are going to buy something? That’s like going to a restaurant with no intention of eating.  What? Really? So, anyway, one time we went, and it was one of those times when we weren’t buying—we were looking.  Well, that just didn’t work for me, so I started begging Mama for a dollar.  Now, keep in mind, a dollar in 1962 was the equivalent of the entire economy of a third world country.

Momma said no. Period, nada, ain’t gonna happen.  Well, I kept begging. (I was pretty good at it.  Give me enough time and I could wear anyone down.) Finally, out of shear desperation, she reached in her purse and pulled out—a quarter.  Was I grateful?  Of course not.  Even then a quarter just didn’t have a lot of buying power.  I finally gave up and took my quarter to look for a treasure.  Two things happened in the next few minutes. First, I started feeling guilty for hassling my Momma and decided I should spend the quarter to buy something for her.  Someone say, “Awww.”

The second thing was I really realized that besides candy, there wasn’t a lot in Atlantic Mills for a quarter. Well, I looked around and found a pretty scarf that I just knew my Mama would like.  The problem was it was something like $1.49.  So, my young sinner/criminal mind began cooking something up.  I wasn’t about to outright steal it.  That could get you hard time.  So, I decided that I would switch the price tags.  I looked around and found something for a quarter, found a place where no one could see me, and carefully removed that price tag and put it on the scarf.  There. Done deal.  No one would ever know the difference.  Oops.

I went to the checkout counter and found out two things.  First, did you know even then there was a code on the price tag indicating what department it came from.  I found out too late that they didn’t sell scarfs in hardware.  Second, the checkout lady was not a newcomer to the checkout business, and she quickly realized that this scarf was worth more than a quarter.  Bottom line—she nailed me.  She looked down at my frightened face and into my tearing eyes and said, “Did you switch this price tag?”  Well, I “spilled my guts” and I believe I even told her why.  She didn’t turn me in…she didn’t have too. Her words were enough punishment.  I walked away a mess with my quarter still in my hand. As far as I remember I didn’t buy anything that day and I guess I gave the quarter back to Momma. It was a total disaster.

Now, before you act as the States Attorney and put me on trial, the stature of limitations has expired on this.  And besides that, I was just doing what sinners do—sin. And since we are all sinners, all of us can probably identify with this sin thing. It didn’t matter that I was eight—I was old enough to know better.  I don’t know if I told Mama or not but that didn’t matter because God knew, and He is even more important than Mama. It is things like this, and a lot more, that make me a big fan of God.  The way He extends His grace to sinners like me is just amazing.  It is so amazing they wrote a song about it.

I well remember the guilt and shame I felt that day which probably means I did confess to God and probably to Momma too.  I’m sure both forgave me.  A guy named John, who was a BFF (best friend forever) of Jesus and who wrote some of the New Testament said that if we are willing to confess our sins, God is more than willing to forgive us.  That is good news. And the best part?  There are no limitations. His love and grace go longer and further than the “Energizer bunny.” No matter what, if we come to Him in sincerity, He will sincerely forgive us.  He can handle my eight-year-old sins and my sins today.  As always, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

The Emerald Buccaneers

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

The Lord is good to everyone. He showers compassion on all His creation.” Psalm 145:9

We were called the Emerald Buccaneers. There are parts of my childhood puzzle that pieces are just missing..and this is one of them.  As I have mentioned in several stories, the Taylor tribe was not the richest tribe on the block.  My Daddy worked at the Naval Air Station as a jet engine mechanic. He worked hard and he worked steady so that we could have a roof over our heads and food on the table.  Momma mostly took care of the tribe and, trust me, that was a full time job.  But the bottom line was that often…money was tight.  And then there is this.

I remember one summer, somehow and some way, Momma signed us up for swimming lessons.  They were held at the American Legion which was three or four miles from our house. I have no idea how it happened.  I’m sure it cost and I’m sure there wasn’t money in our limited economy, but we ended up at swimming lessons and I suppose that is how we ended up in the Emerald Buccaneers.

The Buccaneers were a drum and bugle corps sponsored by the same American Legion where we had swimming lessons.  Now what is interesting is we had no affiliation with the American Legion and so I can only imagine that Momma was chatting with someone, and the topic came up and the next thing I know…I was an Emerald Buccaneer.  I believe it must have been around the time I was in Junior High because that was the only time I was in band.  My sisters, I believe, were majorettes.  I played, or attempted to play, the baritone.  As you can imagine, it was quite an adventure.

For the marching season, the Buccaneers would play and march in several parades.  It was quite a big deal, and, in fact, I guess we were pretty good.  I know this is weird but somehow, I was in junior high band for a couple of years and in the Buccaneers for a while but never really learned to read music…well, at least not very good.  But somehow, I pulled it off and on weekends I would put on my fancy uniform that included a black buccaneer hat with a large white feather.  I was a part of something bigger than me and I loved it.

Now this part is fuzzy but the sponsors for the Buccaneers arranged for us to be in a competition.  We were in Jacksonville, Florida and the event was going to take place in Miami and, wait for it, for some reason, Momma let us go.  Now it was a big deal when the Taylor tribe left the county, so it was going to the moon for us to go to Miami…especially without Daddy or Momma. This can only mean two things.  Momma trusted the chaperons and Momma trusted us. I don’t remember a whole lot about the trip or the competition only that Daddy and Momma made it happen.  How about that?

There is a picture in a box somewhere that Momma took, and I am all dressed up in my uniform marching down the street…proudly playing, well, at least blowing on my horn.  And that snapshot makes me smile.  It reminds me once again of the extraordinary lengths my Daddy and Momma went to make our life adventurous.  A member of the “Greatest Generation,” those heroes that did life through the Great Depression and then won World War II, once told me, “We were poor, but we didn’t know it.”  Well, I’m not sure we were poor, but we could see it from the back porch.  But this is what I do know…we didn’t know it.  No, Momma and Daddy, somehow found a way for us to have and do. I love them for that.

I have another parent that found a way for me to have and do. Some ignore Him, some just call Him God, but I have the privilege of calling Him Father.  He found a way for me to come into His family by sending His Son to die on a Roman cross.  His sacrifice made my life possible.  I know my parents sacrificed a lot for the Taylor Tribe, but nothing compares to what God did for me…and for you. As I look back as my life as a kid, I keep remembering the small things that Leslie and Alston did and being amazed at how big they seem now.  I guess time adds perspective.

I know that is true with my Heavenly Father, my Dearest Daddy.  As I look back on my life with all its adventures…I am amazed.  He has indeed been so, so good to me and honestly, to you too. One of the authors of the Psalms said, “The Lord is good to everyone. He showers compassion on all His creation” and I have been around long enough to know that is true. I know I write a lot about God and His goodness and the fact that if we look closely enough, we will find reminders of His goodness.  But I guess that is because it amazes me so.

Someone said there are two ways to live…that nothing is a miracle or that everything is a miracle.  Do you know who said that? Albert Einstein.  Turns out he was really smart…in more ways than one.  So, enjoy this day and spend some time remembering the good and forgetting the difficult. Take the time to pause…and believe…that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

What’s in a Name?

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

She will give birth to a Son, and you are to give Him the name Jesus, because He will save His people from their sins.” Matthew 1:21

Satan.  I’m sure it sounded logical at the time. Everybody needs a dog.  Now I know that is a generalization, but the fact is dogs can add a lot to life.  Sometimes that “lot” is good and sometimes not so much.  The bottom line is that dogs are kinda like people.  They are all different, they all have different personalities, and they all have different names.

When I was growing up, I can remember three outdoor dogs that we had.  Momma and Daddy had an indoor dog named Penny. She was a, uh, well, overweight chihuahua mix and was pretty much the queen bee of the house.  But through the years that I remember we had three other dogs and all three were as different as night and day. The first one had a very unusual name.

Now, first remember these were real outdoor dogs.  We are talking their dog food was whatever scraps were left over from dinner and they rarely, very rarely had a bath.  So regardless of what adjectives I use to describe them, you would never find them at a dog show.  The first one was a beautiful, red, long hair, Irish setter.  I’m not sure where we got him, but I can assure you he was free.  We definitely did not pay for dogs.  Besides the fact that this dog was really pretty, his name set him apart.  His name was, wait for it, Satan.  Yes, folks, we actually had a dog named Satan.  Even as I type this, I am saying, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”  But…I am not.

Satan, the dog—not the king of evil—didn’t get his name from his behavior but rather from his red coat.  You know how we like to dress Satan (the king of evil not the dog) in red? Well, I guess Momma and Daddy decided it seemed appropriate.  I know when I am introduced to someone, sometimes I hear their name and say, “Well, he or she looks like a Judy or a Sam.  Well, Satan, the dog, with his red coat fit the bill.  What a crazy name for a dog.

The second dog that holds a spot in my dog hall of fame was a beagle named Sally.  Now Sally, I think, is a kinda happy name.  I have a hard time imagining a stern-faced Sally though I am sure there are plenty out there.  Well, Sally, the dog, had a bubbly personality and had the unique ability, wait for it, to smile.  Now, as Jerry Clower the comedian, used to say, “if I am lying, I am dying.”  You could walk up to ole Sally and give her a greeting and she would turn her upper lip right up and smile at you.  Bring her supper and up the lip would go.  She was a nice contrast, as you can imagine, to, uh, Satan (not the king of evil but the dog.)

The third and final dog that fills my memory of dogs in my growing up years was a rough and tumble, short legged, who knows what breed or breeds, dog we named, Ruff. Our dog Ruff didn’t stand out with a shiny red coat, nor could he smile.  He was just Ruff. If he was a human, he probably would have driven a big Harley hog, wore a leather jacket, and smoked cigarettes.  He was rough.  He may have had small dog syndrome because truthfully, he was short and stocky.  But, regardless, he was a good dog, and he was loyal.  He ruled the backyard and protected us from all the bad guys.

Three dogs, three distinct personalities and characteristics and three names that kinda, sorta, fit them.  Back in the old days of the Bible, names were a really big deal. You would name your son or daughter based on your hopes and dreams for them.  Sometimes it worked out…and sometimes, well, it didn’t.  I know when Joseph learned that Mary was going to have Jesus, he had some inside help on the name.  I mean an angel shows up and says, “Hey, Mary is going to have a baby and you are to name Him Jesus because He is going to save the world.” Now that is one important name.

And guess what?  That is exactly what He did.  His destiny was to die on a Roman cross to pay for the sins of the whole world—mine and yours and well, everybody’s.  When you hear the name of Jesus—think Savior because that is what He is.  His name is special, very special, and is one that should not, ever, be thrown around lightly.

Guess what? God likes to give names to His kids too.  In the last book of the Bible, it says that God will give us a new name written on a white stone and no one will understand the name but the one who gets it.  Until then, well, He just calls us son or daughter. I like that.  And as His son or daughter, we have the assurance that no matter what comes our way, we can count on Him.  We can know for sure, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

Rescue and Redemption

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed.” (Psalm 34:18)

Tears streamed down my face as I raced after the car.  So many childhood memories are lost through the fog of time.  Depending on the memory…that can be good or bad.  A tragedy, a broken heart, a traumatic event, are all best left in the fog.  Others, though, need to be remembered.  And then, there are those that are both and this story is one of those.

It all started one day in elementary school.  It had to be the third grade.  The teacher had given us an assignment and to emphasize the importance, she said that if we came to school the next day without it…there would be consequences.  I don’t know what those were, but it probably involved a trip to see the principal or being fed to the sharks.  At any rate, it worked.  I was terrified.

Well, somehow, some way, it happened.  I got on the bus, got to school, and got to class.  Shortly after we said the pledge to the flag, sang our patriotic song for the day and then recited the Lord’s Prayer (yes, we really did that), she called for the assignment. Just about then, the Lord’s Prayer took on a new meaning.  I was genuinely scared…to death.  Well, in a moment of grace, she allowed this repentant sinner to go to the office and call my Momma and Momma came to the rescue. We agreed that I would meet her in the circular drive…where the buses dropped us off each morning. Since it was going to be a few minutes, I went back to class.

A little later, the teacher let me go and meet Momma.  I got to the drive just in time to see the back of our car leaving the driveway.  Either I was later, or she was early—either way I was in deep trouble. So, I did what any insecure, deep weeds third grader did back in the early sixties—I burst into tears and started chasing the car.  As they drove off, I remember running as fast as I could, crying out, “Momma, Momma.” Somehow, some way the brake lights came on and the car pulled over.  It turned out my brother was driving, and Momma was in the front passenger seat.

When I got to the car, Momma opened the door and I fell into her waiting arms.  Now this may seem a little dramatic and traumatic to some of you but then you didn’t have Mrs. Wilson for a third-grade teacher. There was not a sermon about how I shouldn’t have forgotten the paper—though that would have been appropriate. There was not a chastening—though I deserved that too.  There was only compassion for a young boy who thought for sure his world was about to end.  There was only love.

Well, first it turned out, she had already dropped the assignment off at the office.  Second, right or wrong, I just couldn’t go back to class, and I asked if I could just go home—and she agreed.  Apparently at the moment it was the right thing to do. Honestly, I was a mess and embarrassed that I was a mess.  The story ends with another chance.  The office must have sent the assignment to Mrs. Wilson and the next morning when I got to class everything was ok.  She extended some grace and I believe I learned a lesson about rescue and redemption.  It was a lesson that I would see played out over the years for the rest of my life…not by a teacher or my Momma—but by my Dearest Daddy.

You see, God is in the rescue and redemption business. Did you know that?  He is always looking for a lost cause to redeem and rescue and that’s all of us since we all have messed up. And the amazing part, He never grows tired of it.  I think it must be His incredible love for us. When I decided to become a Jesus follower, I didn’t become perfect…no one does. I still managed to “forget my homework”…again and again.  But each time He was there with a bucket full of grace and love. That’s just what He does.  Oh, and I don’t ever have to chase after Him for He is always chasing me.

So, today, if your day or your life is going south like a fast freight train, just remember this.  There is a God, He does love you and He wants to redeem and rescue you.  He’s chasing you to do exactly that.  No matter what it is, just know and believe, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Happy Birthday Grits!

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Jesus always used stories and illustrations like these when speaking to the crowds.” Matthew 13:34

Well – what an adventure!  It was a Friday morning in March of 2020 and the beginning of the COVID pandemic that caused me to sit down one morning and write a short post on Facebook. I intended it to be a one and done deal and was simply meant to be an encouragement. I wrote it and posted it…and then, something happened.  For whatever reason it touched a chord with people who followed my Facebook page and many readers responded.  And that is how Grits with Grace was born.

We made a permanent home for Grits in May of 2020 on WordPress with a new address, www.gritswithgrace.com . The website archives all the stories and has a great search engine if you are looking for a particular subject. It also has some valuable statistics…that remind us how the God’s Word never comes back void. As of March 20, 2022, the website has 361 followers (people who currently follow our site), 94 email subscribers (email every time blog is posted) and 1,995 followers on Facebook. Wow!

We find it very exciting that the top five countries following us in 2021 (12 months) are: USA (7,242), India (250), Ireland (160), United Arab Emirates (154) and the United Kingdom (138). For the first eleven weeks of this year the USA has (1,401), United Arab Emirates (144), United Kingdom (48), Ireland (35), and India (24). We have received some great words of encouragement especially from our friends in the United Kingdom.

I thought you might want to read the very first Grits again. If so, the next few paragraphs contain that first story.  If not, I’ll just meet you at the bottom of the page.

A Word of Encouragement

The story is told of a Christian lady who had cancer.  Her pastor went to see, encourage, and pray with her.  Towards the end of the visit, her pastor asked if he could pray with and for her.  Her response was, “yes, of course.”  That wasn’t surprising.  What happened next was.

When he asked how he should pray, her response was totally unexpected.  He assumed it would be for healing but instead she said, “Pastor, pray that I would not waste this suffering.”  Waste this suffering.

She was wise enough to know that the God she believed in was sovereign, was in control and was a kind, merciful and loving God.  She also knew that He was wise and that this had been allowed into her life for a purpose–His purpose.

God’s word says, “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

I admit I’m baffled by a lot of what is happening around me.  Just when I think I can’t be surprised…I am.  But I’m not baffled about God.  He is working in our circumstances to bring glory to His name and strengthen our faith.

So, God has this.  He isn’t asking us to understand…He is only asking us to trust Him.  And believe me…He has a track record of always getting it right.  God bless you today…trust Him…He’s got this.

Well, that is where it all started. The last two years my wife Judy and I have been honored to share our lives and our stories with all of you.  We honestly don’t have an accurate idea of how many people take the time to read Grits each day, but we do know that we are grateful for all of them. The stories have been as varied as life itself.  We have written about everything from the “Underwear Fairy” to a mean goose in our city park we named, “Bubba.”  Hopefully, many made you smile, and some might have made you cry.  I know there were times when tears slid down my cheeks as I wrote.

You know, Jesus loved to tell stories and He told a lot of them.  Maybe that is why I love Grits so much—it teaches the way He did. All the stories for the last 700 days have had a truth that can be applied to life and very often that truth centered around just how much Creator God loves us, His creation.  Oh, and we have learned that no matter how big or how small the problem or the circumstance, we can know for certain that, “He’s got this.”

I’ve wondered exactly how long Grits will be around.  Well, I suppose the answer is this.  As long as there is a story to tell and a friend who enjoys reading it, I will keep pressing the keys and Judy will keep designing the graphics. So, once again, thank you so much for reading and sharing Grits with your family, friends, and neighbors. And let’s always remember that no matter how difficult the circumstance, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne