Category: Southern born

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

Cinnamon Raisin Bread

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another.” Hebrews 10:25a

It all started with a picture. They say a picture is worth a thousand words and perhaps it is also worth a thousand memories.  The other day my sister Judy sent a picture out to her brother (AKA Precious) and her two sisters (AKA Precious Wanna-Be’s).  Judy makes sour dough bread…the kind you start with a starter. I don’t know a thing about all of this besides she has to feed it so she can feed us. Oh, and if she doesn’t feed it—well, it is game over.  So, she sent this picture out of a loaf of cinnamon raisin bread.  It looked magnificent.

The picture started a conversation in our text thread, and we were all ranting and raving about how good it looked and wondering how good it would taste.  Then I wrote this, “Don’t know how…don’t know when but can you all imagine sitting on Kathy’s back porch eating Judy’s bread, drinking coffee and just visiting! Hmmm…just saying!” Well, the next thing I know we had a time and date and Precious and the Precious Wanna-Be’s were heading to Thomasville, Georgia.  For the first time in a while, we were all going to be together and honestly, this was especially special because my sister Kathy has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. We all knew this was a great opportunity to get together—so we did.

We met at Kathy’s house, on her back porch and had a lunch of pimento cheese (a Taylor classic). Then just a bit later we broke out the cinnamon raisin bread smothered in cream cheese icing…a precious idea from Precious.  It was even more special because our oldest brother who went to heaven in January of 2023 would have loved it.  So, we had coffee and cinnamon bread and told more stories than one would think possible. I relived how my two sisters, older than me but younger than the oldest sister, tormented me by pulling my ears and tickling me.  I also learned how, on certain special occasions, my Daddy would secretly buy my sister a candy bar.  I’m gonna have to ask Daddy about that when I get to heaven. Maybe she is Precious #2!

The bottom line is we had a wonderful day. We took plenty of pictures to make sure those memories live on and on and to top it off, each sibling got to take a whole loaf of cinnamon raisin bread with them.  Thank you, Judy, for bread at the house and some for the road. I think the big truth for this story is what my oldest sister Agnes said when I texted the idea.  Remember, I said, “I don’t know how, don’t know when…” Agnes, the wise ancient of days of the family, said, “I know how. Set a date and get in the car.” As always, she was right, and we are all so glad she was.

Is there something that you are putting off because life is too busy? Is there something that you need to do but can only think of all the reasons why you can’t?  Maybe you should do what the Taylor tribe did…mash the pause button, set a date, and get in the car. I know if we hadn’t done what we did, we would have all regretted it but instead we have a boatload of precious (no pun intended) memories to love and share. Always remember, when something seems impossible, there is a Dearest Daddy who can make it happen within His will. Yup, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

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

Crime of the Century

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Forty

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is His faithfulness; His mercies begin afresh each morning.” Lamentations 3:22-23

It was a crazy consequence…or was it. I was sitting at the computer trying to figure out what to write. I thought about the eclipse, but I hit that a couple of days prior and it was rapidly disappearing in the rearview mirror, and it wasn’t due to reappear in our area for another 375 years.  I’m pretty sure that none of us, or the sun, moon, and earth for that matter, will be around for that one! So, after pondering for a few minutes, I realized that something important had happened in my life and I should share.

On Sunday, April the 7th, I shared with the church family that I was planning on starting the next chapter in our Jesus journey. I would be stepping down as Senior Pastor after 24 years.  Oh, it wasn’t a sudden decision. Judy and I had been praying and talking and talking and praying about it for more than a few months and we felt it was time for us to surrender to whatever the Lord has next for us. So, we waved the white flag.  What makes it easier for us is that if the Lord is willing, we are going to hang around and be a part of the Dorrisville family.

Well, anyway, about that consequence thing.  I realized that in April of 1984 (as in exactly forty years or four decades ago) I began my final preparations to leave the Air Force to begin my new life as a full-time vocational pastor.  Now trust me…that was a giant leap. At that time my wife Judy and I had two small daughters, ages three and two. We were leaving something we dearly loved, the Air Force, and jumped into a world with no health insurance and a much smaller income. While on the surface I was confident I was also very nervous.

Well God was more than faithful and now we find ourselves once again jumping and once again leaving something we dearly love (our vocational career as pastor and wife). The big truth is that the same God that was faithful forty years ago is faithful today. The same God who led us to four wonderful congregations over the last forty-two years, will lead us till the sun sets.  And yes, the same God who took care of us as we raised our girls will take care of in the coming days.  Just as a standby I told a couple of our deacons to be ready—we might have to move in with them. Smile.

So, God’s timing is always perfect.  If you do a little research in the Bible, you will find that more than a few times the number forty is a big deal! One of my favorites is the fact that Jesus stuck around after His resurrection for forty days just to encourage His disciples.  How great is that. I think He timed this out so I could remember His faithfulness and take another leap of faith.  I’m sure there are many more Grits stories coming and I am also sure some of them will speak of His faithfulness. Our desire is to finish well…celebrating each day and remembering that God is good, God is faithful, and God can be trusted.  If you find yourself at a place where it is time to jump into the unknown, and surrender, don’t worry, you can rest assured that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Washer Hoses and a Dose of Oops

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I Just Couldn’t Resist

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.” (Hebrews 12:11)

I just couldn’t resist.  All of us have stories that we don’t necessarily remember but are passed down through the years.  Some are humorous, some are serious, and some are the things legends are made of.  Well, this one I believe qualifies as all three. 

When I was quite young, probably six or seven, life was pretty good.  We lived in a country setting that was rapidly becoming the suburbs of Jacksonville, Florida.  There was a subdivision being built right next to where we lived.  Some of the men who were working there would drive these cool wedge shape sticks in the ground at the corners of each lot.  They had numbers on them.  They were surveyor markers.  We thought they made great rubber band guns so we would help ourselves.  We had an endless supply of rubber bands because the newspaper came each day with one or two wrapped around it. We weren’t trying to be mischievous; we were just trying to have fun.  I bet it wasn’t fun for the guys who did the surveying.

Sometimes, our fun might become someone else’s pain.  And that is where the story really begins.  Back in those days, going to the grocery store was a great adventure.  My dad got paid every other Friday.  On payday night we would load up in the car and go to buy groceries.  It seemed we would always buy the stuff to make sandwiches for supper when we got home which invariably included a gallon of chocolate milk.  It never saw the light of the next morning.

Well, one Friday night, we were at the grocery store and apparently, I had a rubber band left over from my adventures that day. I must have reached in my pocket and found the small piece of rubber and thought, “You know, we can have some fun with this.”  Well, I probably should have thought that through a little better, but when you are six or seven and mischievous by nature, anything is a game.  I started looking for targets.

Down the aisle was a rather large woman.  And what happens next has been blocked from my memory but is stated as fact.  As we got closer to the woman, perhaps as she studied what brand of mayo to buy, I took the rubber band, placed it between my thumb and pointer finger, moved my hand, near the intended target and let it fly.  I can only imagine what happened next.

First, I am certain she was shocked.  It must have felt like a killer bee had bit her but that wasn’t logical since she was in a store.  I’m thinking she probably spun around and looked only to see this smiling kid with a rubber band still in his hand.  To me it was all fun.  To her it was all pain.  Lesson one.  Don’t let your fun become someone else’s pain.

Second, I am certain my parents were devastated.  Since this would have been about 1960 or 61 there were not the social rules about child discipline that we have today.  From what I know of my Daddy and Momma, there was probably swift and lethal retribution.  I can imagine one of them, perhaps both, making sure my bottom felt like her bottom.  No one would have called Children and Family Services.  They all would have said, “Let me help you with that.”

Third, I believe that this was when I began to really understand repentance.  Repentance means to turn around and go in a different direction.  If I could have gotten loose from Daddy that night, I would have practiced that repentance…I probably would still be running.  The other meaning of repentance is to have a change in attitude.  I am certain that happened.  If you were to ask me how many other times, I decided to pop a strange lady with a rubber band in the grocery store that number would be zero.  Somehow the urge suddenly left me.  I had repented.

This is going to sound hokey, but it is memories like this that show how much my parents loved me.  They loved me enough to teach me right from wrong, respect for other people, a strong work ethic and to believe in God.  And they loved me enough to give me a swat or two when I needed it.  It all came together to help me grow, and live and love.

God is the same way.  My Daddy and Momma loved me very much, but God outshines even them.  He loves me and teaches me to live life with fewer oops and fewer consequences. I never carry rubber bands in my pocket just to avoid the temptation.  But He also loves me enough to discipline me when I need it. The author of Hebrews says it best.  He writes, “No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.” Spot on.  He must have popped some lady too.

So, try and show some grace.  I shouldn’t have popped the lady, and I haven’t popped any more.  Don’t judge my parents for taking care of the problem.  I am grateful for the way they raised me.  And don’t be mad at God if He disciplines you.  He is way too wise to make a mistake and way too loving to do the wrong thing.  He is our “Abba Father,” our Dearest Daddy so we can trust Him.  We can rest in Him.  Because…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

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

“Chucking Rocks”

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

I should have listened.  I was a pretty good kid when I was young but let’s be honest.  Pretty good doesn’t mean perfect and pretty good doesn’t mean not mischievous.  I think it means I was somewhere close to normal.  The only thing is normal can still get you into trouble.

One day I was with the family and I’m pretty sure we were in a laundromat.  Apparently, the washing machine had broken down and we had to do the washing at the mat.  My daddy and I were out in the parking lot while mama was washing the clothes.  I was about nine and bored and that is not a good combination.  The parking lot was gravel and all those rocks just seemed to be saying, “Throw me.”  So, I obliged.

At first it was a little toss here and there but the more I threw, the more I wanted to throw.  First it was random, but then I started taking aim.  Several things were laying along the edge of the parking lot, and they made great targets but then I got an idea.  If hitting a can was good, imagine hitting a moving target.  So, I started chucking the rocks in the direction of the road and at the cars passing by.  Bad idea.

Now, if you are going to chuck rocks at a car, every nine-year old rock chucker knows you don’t just chuck your rock with obvious intention.  You ease into it. Well, I started easing into it and before long, my rocks were landing dangerously close to cars going by.  My Daddy thought it was kinda accidental and it garnered a “Dewayne, be careful not to hit the cars.”  He hadn’t caught onto my real plan to “ping a hub cap.”  Anyway, I kept chucking so he upped the warning.

“Dewayne, listen, don’t throw rocks at the cars.” He had finally caught on and I should have quit while I was ahead.  I finally got close enough so that we entered “Final Jeopardy.” “Question—what happens if you hit a car? Answer—I’m gonna give you a spanking.”  Yeah, well, you can probably guess where this is going.  I chucked a rock and hit a car going by and it was “Final Jeopardy.”  Daddy got mad, the driver got mad, and I got in trouble.

Well, Daddy was able to talk to the driver and he promised him the “grapes of wrath” would fall when we got home.  As he drove off, Daddy explained about the “grapes of wrath.” Translated it meant I was gonna get a spanking when we got home, and it wasn’t gonna be a little one.  So, as soon as we pulled into our driveway, I ran into the house and hid under the dining room table.  Soon, I heard Daddy’s voice, “Where are you, Dewayne?”  I felt like Adam and Eve in the garden after they had chucked rocks at God and decided to sin.  God was looking for them and they were hiding too.

And that’s where things get fuzzy.  I don’t remember the spanking which means I probably got grace instead.  It probably means that Daddy and I had a long talk about chucking rocks at cars and how that was not a good thing to do.  It must have worked because I don’t think I ever chucked another rock at a car…at least one that was moving. That day I learned about obedience and how it has a whole lot less consequences than disobedience.  I also learned about grace.  Grace is when you deserve a spanking but instead you get a talking.  But I also learned about rock chucking. I learned that it was ok to chuck rocks at things like stumps and cans, but it is not ok to chuck rocks at things like cars. When you do there are consequences…big ones.

Now, there’s another kind of rock chucking that I’m still learning about and that is chucking rocks at people. I’m not talking about waylaying someone with a stone but rather waylaying them with our judgmental acts and words. It’s what we do when we see someone fail and we decide to make ourselves feel better by knocking them down.

Jesus ran into this when some religious people found a woman sinning big-time.  They dragged her into the middle of a crowd and wanted to stone her.  They asked Jesus what would He do?  He told them that the person that had never sinned should chuck the first rock.  Well, slowly they all walked away because they had all messed up. “Where are your accusers?” Jesus asked the woman.  She replied that they had left…and indeed they had.

The only ones left were her, the sinner, and Him, the One who had never sinned.  He could have chucked rocks but instead He loved her and forgave her.  She deserved the rocks, but He gave her grace.  I like that.  A lot.  So, He dismissed her with a smile and a word of “now don’t go on sinning” and the rocks stayed on the ground…right where they belong.

I am so grateful for grace…and you should be too.  If we have experienced grace, we should extend some too. You see, rocks make great parking lots and driveways, but are terrible weapons. They need to stay in the quarry or on the ground.  My Daddy showed grace then and my Dearest Daddy shows it every day.  We should too.  It’s good to know though when we are hiding under the dining room table and He calls, we can come out and sit in His lap and learn about the consequences of sin but also the wonders of grace.  So, come on out from your hiding place. We can rest in Him because, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Slow Down

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Then Jesus told him, “Hurry and do what you’re going to do.” John 13:27b

Well, our last great adventure to see our southern tribe is in the rearview mirror.  The bad news is that there are several folks on both sides of our family that are not in the greatest of health. The good news is that has motivated us to do something that we should have been doing all along—visit them.  As you might know, both Judy and I are from the deep south and a visit to any of our siblings and their tribes requires at least an eight-hour drive, while most times it is more like eleven or twelve hours. If that sounds like an excuse it probably is, but the bottom line is being a pastor has certain travel restrictions, especially on weekends.  The other bottom line is this—the clock is ticking for all of us, so somehow, some way, we must make time for the important stuff.

Enough of that. So, we hit the road and rediscovered the travel truth.  You can travel on the interstate highways and get there fast. In other words, if you are in a hurry, dash over to the closest interstate.  The two negative sides to that are the occasional but always untimely traffic jams and the fact that you miss so much of the scenery. The other option usually takes longer but almost every time it is worth it.  You can skip the interstate, slow down, and see what there is to see.  You can learn to enjoy the journey.  Maybe because Judy and I are getting a little older or maybe because we are learning to enjoy the journey, more often we are choosing the slower option.  Slow down and smell the roses.  Let me say that again…slow down and smell the roses—enjoy the journey.

I know it isn’t always easy, but it is important because what’s true in travel is also true in living.  Life truly flies by but what if we make conscious decisions to sometimes apply the brakes?  What if we intentionally said no to something to intentionally leave a blank on our calendars?  What if we settled for hotdogs on the grill to give Mom or Dad some extra time after their busy day to talk?  What if we blocked two hours off on Sunday to worship and not work…or play? Slowing down must be intentional.  When you drive, you must occasionally hit the brake. Keep your foot always on the gas and a catastrophe is going to happen.  Driving requires the fine balance of gas and brake…and so does life.

Looking back, I find myself wishing I had somehow made more time to visit my southern tribe.  Several of them, including my four brothers, are no longer with us and the time for visitation is over. Don’t wait too long. I always remember the words of Jesus to Judas right before he was going to betray his Teacher. He said, “Hurry and do what you’re going to do.” If we can ignore the larger context and just focus on the part that tells us not to procrastinate by waiting and waiting—well, it’s good teaching. 

So, here’s a question.  What is it in your life right now that you simply need to make a priority?  What do you need to say no to so you can make room for a valid yes? Think about it and then do something about it.  God is a great time manager and if we ask, He will be there—He’s got this! Bro. Dewayne

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

Gentle Father

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

He protects His flock like a shepherd; He gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them in the fold of His garment.” Isaiah 40:11

I’m sure it happened more than once…probably on an “as needed” basis.  Perhaps this is a memory you can share…maybe not.  I was probably eight years old, and it was somewhere in the middle of the night…and I had the stomach flu.  As always, it came out of nowhere and I was sick…real sick. The only thing I can say good about the stomach flu is that it usually doesn’t stick around too long.  But I can also say that one minute or one hour is too long.

So, there I was feeling like I was dying (from my eight-year-old perspective), lonely and miserable.  It was just about that time that Momma heard me being miserable, got up from bed and started doing her Momma thing.  She may have found me in the bathroom and that may have been what awakened her.  Somehow, I remember her wiping my mouth and gently rubbing my head.  Then we went to the living room, and she settled into a rocker we had there and then she invited me, lifted me, into her lap. Her holding me somehow had the effect of healing.  I just felt better…not normal…but better.

I treasure that memory and ones like it.  I treasure the thought of the one who gave me life making my life better…especially when I needed it the most.  I treasure it too because it reminds me of my Dearest Daddy as He does what she did.  He invites me into His lap where He holds me and assures me that it is going to be alright. The One who gave me life cares enough to make my life better.

One of the most famous Christians of the 19th century was named Hudson Taylor. He was a missionary to China, and he was a spiritual giant. In his old age, he lost his health and became very weak. He wrote a letter to a friend that said this: “I am so weak I can no longer work. I am so weak I can no longer study. I am so weak I can no longer read my Bible. I cannot even pray. I can only lie still in the arms of God like a little child in trust.” I like that a lot.

You know, sometimes in your life, you will be so weak you can’t even pray, read the Bible, or go to a Bible study. You can’t work. You can’t do anything. Have you been there?  I have. So, what do you do in those moments? You rest in the strength of the Lord, in His gentle yet strong arms like a little child, and you trust. As you rest there, you can be assured that, “He’s got this.”          Bro. Dewayne

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

Ride a Cock Horse

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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