thankful – Page 92 – Grits with Grace

Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Military memories, Scripture, thankful, wisdom

It’s A Dippity-Do Dah Day

Posted on May 28, 2021May 25, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

If we say, “We have fellowship with Him,” and yet we walk in darkness, we are lying and are not practicing the truth.” 1 John 1:6

Hi Grits family. Hey, Judy and I are out of pocket today, so we are giving you the opportunity to revisit some of our favorites. So, God bless, enjoy and we will see you soon.

Dippity-do dah, dippy day, my oh my, what a wonderful day. I joined the Air Force back in 1972 and in so many ways it was a different world. At that time longer hair was still very much in vogue. It seemed the only guys with shorter haircuts were either born in the 1920’s or in the military. I was the latter.

It was also a different day in the way people viewed the military. The country was coming out of the Vietnam era and sadly many saw veterans and the active military in a dark light. I can well remember walking around town and getting the “one of those” looks. While I was never ashamed of being in the military, in fact, I was proud to serve, I did want to be cool—part of the in-crowd and short hair just wasn’t in. But you know the old saying, “Where there is a will, there is a way.” Hello Dippity-do.

It’s funny, I don’t remember anyone else doing it nor do I remember how I started. I found this hair stuff called, “Dippity-do.” It was a gel-like product and depending on how much you applied, it would make your hair stay where you put it. So I bought a jar and slowly I let the hair on the top of my head and sides grow out. I would wakeup in the morning and put this stuff, in fact a lot of this stuff, on my hair. I would comb it kinda on top of my head and toward the back. The effect was—well, effective. The funny part is when this stuff dried out it made my hair as solid as a rock. Of course, my mom always said I had a hard head.

I found that I could have the required white-wall around my ears and have all this hair glued down to the top of my head. When I got off work, I would go take a shower, wash this stuff out and believe it or not have enough hair to totally cover my ears. I looked like any other guy in the early 1970’s. Even as I write this I’m saying, “What?” But believe me it worked. I looked like a military guy during the day and a regular off-the-street guy at night. Looking back, it was weird.

Even stranger I worked in the command section of my squadron and to show how effective my ruse was, no one said anything. It looked, and I guess was, regulation. I remember one day walking in the local mall and coming straight toward me was my squadron commander, Major Hobbs. We passed within five feet of each other and he didn’t even recognize me. Yup—G.I. Joe by day and a 70’s hipster at night. Looking back there probably was a word for it. It was probably pretty hypocritical.

The word hypocrite means to “play the part” or to “wear the mask.” It was used to describe actors in ancient Greece who were one thing on stage and another off the stage. The one thing I remember is that I always felt a certain amount of fear while doing this. There was always the “what if I get called in and don’t have time to plaster my hair down” thing. What if my commander and my first sergeant saw me and did recognize me? I knew they respected me and what would happen to that respect? It’s the feeling you get when you are one thing one time and another thing later.

Well, finally I figured it wasn’t worth it and I’ll tell you that story another time, but the bottom line is I went and got a regular haircut. Two things happened almost immediately. First, I felt free. The fear of the wrong person seeing me at the wrong time was suddenly gone. It was like a weight was taken off my shoulders. The second thing that happened was I discovered that in spite of what the culture said, I was proud to be in the Air Force and that haircut identified me as part of a special family and team. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of…it was something to be proud of. And the best part, the girl I was dating, who I later married, thought I was even cuter. Now for the funny part. I have been out of the military now for 36 years and I never, not even once, grew my hair out. I decided I like shorter hair. More than that…I decided I like being real.

So, what about you? What is it in your life where you “wear the mask?” What is it in your life where you have decided to pretend—to be something you aren’t? While we find that in every aspect of life, sadly it’s also common in the Jesus follower world. People say one thing and do another—people who act one way on Sunday and another the rest of week. If I learned anything from my Dippity-do world is that authenticity beats a plastic mask every time.

John, one of the guys who followed Jesus in the Bible, said it pretty well. He said, “If we say, “We have fellowship with him,” and yet we walk in darkness, we are lying and are not practicing the truth.” In other words, if we say we are one thing and really are another—we are just living a lie. It is better to be real than fake. It is better to be authentic than counterfeit. I may have fooled my commander that day but I never fool God when I choose to be one thing in public and another in private. But the one thing I love about God is that He never rejects me. He is never ashamed to call me His child. I can always rest in Him and more than that, He can handle who I am—Dippity-do and all. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Family, Grace, gratitude, life, love, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Stonehedge

Posted on May 26, 2021May 25, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save the lost.” Luke 19:10

Hi Grits family. Hey, Judy and I are out of pocket for the next three days, so we are giving you the opportunity to revisit some of our favorites. So, God bless, enjoy and we will see you soon.

“For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save the lost.” Luke 19:10

Roy Smith Allen was a genuine, authentic, real-deal Southern good ole boy. I met him on the road to falling in love with his daughter. I can remember virtually every detail of meeting Judy but Roy, well, its like one minute he wasn’t there and the next he was. I met Judy at her church on a Wednesday night. I walked in the side door and she was standing with a group of five or six girls. It was as if the others weren’t even there. She stole the show…and my heart.

I found out that when I started dating Judy, I also started dating her family. They were a crazy bunch of fun-loving people who turned every get together into a ruckus of stories and one-uppers. Right in the middle of the craziness was Roy. Well, for some reason, Roy took a shine to me. Judy will tell you that both of her parents liked me more than her. That probably wasn’t true. But I guess they trusted me because truth be known she was a little too young and I was a little too old. But here we are forty-four years later so we must have met somewhere in the middle.

Roy was a hard core, church going, deacon. He worked for the county as the superintendent of roads and had been the assistant warden at the county work camp. He had a gun…he carried a gun. He told Judy and I upfront he didn’t believe in pre-marshall (translated premarital) sex. We both agreed with that so the gun stayed in the holster which was a good thing.

About nine months after I started dating Judy, I asked her to marry me. It happened to be on April Fool’s Day which was kinda funny. But I was dead serious and happily she said yes. So, by now Roy had become Pops to me. So I knew I had to ask him if I could marry Judy. After his first heart attack, his doctor suggested he begin a walking regimen. One evening I joined him walking around the track at the park and I said, “Pops, I would like to marry Judy.” It wasn’t a question but it was a statement that needed a response and he gave one. “No you don’t, boy.” Pops called me “boy” a lot. It wasn’t derogatory but more akin to him calling me “son.”

I persisted and said, “No really, I want to marry Judy.” He stoically gave the same answer, “No you don’t, boy.” Well, I can’t remember how many times we bantered back and forth but eventually I took it as a yes. We were officially engaged…as soon as I could afford a ring.

Somewhere along the journey, her parents allowed me to stay in the spare bedroom at their house on weekends. The base was about twenty-five miles away so it seemed to make some sense. Pops liked to get up early and work hard and I became the “young buck” of his Saturday operations . He was building a shed about 20 miles out in the country and he saw in me some free labor. So, he would come in the bedroom at about 4:30 am and declare, “Time to get up, boy.” I would groggily roll out of bed. We would head to the Gold Plate Restaurant for a hearty breakfast with hot, strong coffee and then head to the building site where I wished I hadn’t eaten quite so much.

Pops had acquired some huge, like 10×10 inch, used bridge timbers from the county. While he supervised, I began digging holes and setting these monstrous beams. Then, we (make that me) had the pleasure of trying to hoist them up to form the roof. Well, it near-bout killed me. We never finished the building and I am sure forty-four years later those timbers are probably still standing like some sort of South Georgia Stonehenge.

In the fall of 1975, at church one morning, I went from being a church goer to a Jesus follower. That day I finally figured out that being religious was not the same as having a relationship with Jesus. It was and is a big deal. Everyone was really happy that I had made that commitment. There were plenty of hugs and words of affirmation but none matched Pop’s. He simply said, “I knew there was something wrong with you, boy.” It was apparent Pops wasn’t gifted in the affirmation department. But that was Roy…that was Pops. I was pretty sure he loved me and I know I loved him…especially since he didn’t shoot me.

So, about a year later, Judy and I were married and in spite of a bad heart he was there to walk her down the aisle. When Judy and I were assigned to Germany, Pops flew there twice to see us. When we were assigned to Missouri, here came Pops. He came out to see our new daughter and his new granddaughter, Rebecca. And then just six weeks later he was apparently working in his backyard there in South Georgia and sat down to rest. Sometime during the break, Jesus came and took him home. Pops was gone but the legend, the legacy lives on.

Roy Smith Allen had a lot of rough edges, a lot of warts, if you will. But buried somewhere beneath the rough exterior was a good hearted man. I’m sure he required a lot of God’s grace but don’t we all? None us could make the cut for heaven based on our own merit. We all are just like Pops…sinners in need of a graceful, loving God. The Book says that Jesus came to seek and to save lost people. People like Roy, people like me and people like you. And if we are willing to be found, He is will to forgive us and invite us into His family. In his backward way, that is what Pops did. Every time he called me “boy” he was calling me “son.” I like that.

So if you find yourself bumping along in life, rough around the edges, you might try what Pops tried. It wasn’t church…it was Jesus. I know it changed my life. It didn’t make me perfect but it did make me forgiven. And the best part? In this crazy, upside-down world, He is always there. I can always go to Him, rest in Him. I know, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, life, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

-346 Degrees Below Zero

Posted on May 24, 2021May 20, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

I have refined you, but not as silver is refined. Rather, I have refined you in the furnace of suffering.” Isaiah 48:10 (NLT).

Hi Grits family. Hey, Judy and I are out of pocket for the next five days, so we are giving you the opportunity to revisit some of our favorites. So, God bless, enjoy and we will see you soon.

I got to go to the skin doctor last week. That’s right…I got to go. My skin doctor is located in Paduach so that meant I could jail break. Judy and I hopped in our zippy little car and headed south. It was good just to be going somewhere…even if it was to the doctor. When we arrived there were special precautions. It reminded me of what going into the White House might be like. Sitting in my car instead of the waiting room, masks, temperature checks. I’m sure I saw a Secret Service agent poking around the corner.

So any way, I finally made it inside. Now this was a skin check. They look and make sure something is not growing that shouldn’t be there. Being a southern boy who regularly thought it was cool to go to the beach and get sunburned, this is particularly important. What I thought was cool then is setting me up for skin cancers and the like now.

So the nice skin doctor (at least I think it was her…she had a mask on…she could have been the secretary for all I knew) came in and checked me over. You will be glad to know that things went well. She did find one “pre-cancer” thingy on my ear. She said they should freeze it off. I said, “Yes Ma’am, you go right ahead.” So she got her little freezing tool and cut loose. Ouch.

I have had this done before I just forgot how bad it hurt. It’s funny…freezing feels a whole lot like burning. There is a reason. Liquid nitrogen, the stuff they use for this, is -346 degrees. Yup… you read that right. I had a couple of other things that needed to be frozen, so she did those too. Speaking of frozen, after this chilling experience, I wonder how all those Disney characters could be so happy in that movie by that name. Anyway, it was over, it was done. After a couple of hours, the pain went away and so did the pre-cancer.

You know, sometimes pain is part of the process. In this case I was probably part of the problem. My neglect earlier led to a situation that had to be fixed—painfully fixed. Sometimes it isn’t our fault at all. Sometimes it is just part of life. Sometimes it is for our good. And that is where God comes in.

God loves us a lot. He knows what is good and what is best for us. Sometimes that means pleasant trips and sunshiny days. Sometimes it means pain. There are some lessons, and yes, some consequences, that require a season of pain to teach us. No one likes them. In fact, sometimes we get just a little mad at God. That is where faith comes in. Is He a loving Father? Yup. Is He all wise? Yup? Does He have our good at His heart? Yup. Are we willing to trust Him? Well, that’s just a little harder.

At least twice in the Bible the scriptures talk about the “refiner’s fire.” Proverbs 17:3 puts it this way, “A crucible for silver, and a smelter for gold, and the Lord is the tester of hearts.” The metalsmith will heat gold or silver to the point it melts and then all the impurities will float to the surface. He does this again and again till he can look into the pot and he can see the reflection of his face in the molten metal. The.reflection.of.his.face.

Our Abba Father, our dearest daddy, loves us enough to allow us to go through the fire and make us more and more like Him. And that usually means suffering. In Isaiah 48:10, God says, “I have refined you, but not as silver is refined. Rather, I have refined you in the furnace of suffering.” Some suffering is easier than others but honestly, none of it is pleasant—but it is all purposeful. God doesn’t know wasted suffering. Remember that.

So, as we walk these twisted paths we call life, rather it is twisted by the coronavirus or an illness or a tough circumstance, remember that God is with you and He is in control. He.is.in.control. You see, He is honestly more interested in our holiness than our happiness. Don’t take that harshly. As God’s kids, we are happiest when we are holiest. It’s just the truth. That path, the one directed by Him, means less regrets and less consequences. So, no matter what today looks like…trust Him. Rest in Him. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials

It Was Hard

Posted on May 21, 2021May 20, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us.” Romans 8:18

And then I remembered…it was hard. I was looking for a picture to use in one of my Grit’s stories and that caused me to go back…to reminisce…to remember. It was 2007 and I was part of a vision trip to Niger, West Africa to check out the possibilities of our church ministering in that West Africa country. It involved an incredibly long flight which included a 12-hour layover in Casablanca, Morocco. This was new territory for all four team members and trust me it was an adventure. Perhaps my favorite, and most eye-opening part, was when I asked a coffee shop owner if he took dollars. His only response was a shrug of the shoulders that seemed to say, “What is a dollar?” Apparently, I had found a place that didn’t think America was the center of the universe.

Later that day, we continued our journey to Niger and arrived near midnight and I was sure we had somehow been diverted and landed on the moon. The landscape, the sounds, the sights, the smells and the culture were so different…and that was just the beginning. Though I had spent three years in Europe and made a journey to the Eastern European country of Bulgaria, nothing prepared me for this. Even though we were in the capital city of Niamey there was still extreme property and many dirt roads. Amazing. But that was nothing compared to “the bush.”

We were more than just on the edge of the vast, almost endless Sahara desert where the scrub bushes and sand seemed to go on forever. With the exception of our own faces, everyone there bore the signs of desert life. Faces were weathered and worn by the desert winds and feet were toughened by the grinding of the sand. And yet, the people were amazingly content. Things such as family and friendship seemed to matter more than anything western culture provided. It was eye opening.

We were in the bush for several days and every day was an adventure and every day we learned more and more about this harsh, yet beautiful place at the edge of the Sahara with all its challenges and opportunities. We slept out in the desert air, we took bucket baths because there was no running water, we lived by flashlights because there was no electricity, and we ate new and strange foods…very strange. I learned that millet was not on my favorite food list and I also learned that this southern boy could, with difficulty, go without bread.

Well, we more than survived and would return a half dozen times or so to this different part of the world before the political climate closed that door and we had to move on to another part of West Africa. That was another adventure and another story. But as I looked at those pictures and went back…reminisced…remembered, I realized, at least for me, that was a difficult trip. For one who was used to so many creature comforts, it was hard. I also looked at some pictures from another trip to the bush a couple of years later and looked into the eyes of weary westerners—tired from a long day’s ministry, loving and helping people and remembered…it was hard.

But here’s the deal. It was worth it…in fact, it was more than worth it. Those trips, those days, were some of the most memorable days we have spent on the African continent. During those days I made friendships with people and learned from them. They left their fingerprints on my life and heart and I am different today. I hope that I too left good fingerprints on their lives—good impressions of Someone much greater than me. We told Bible stories during those days and for many that was something new—something they had never heard, Someone, they had never known. I still remember how some were bewildered and some intrigued. Yes, it was worth all the hard and only eternity will tell the final impact.

Worth.The.Hard. That is not only true for trips to West Africa or other difficult places, it is true of life. You see, everyone’s journey is different, and everyone’s journey will include easy and it will include hard—and both are beneficial. The easy refreshes us like a desert oasis and the hard teaches us like a strenuous workout at the gym. If and when, we learn we need both, life takes on a different and better meaning. We stop holding on only to the easy and learn to embrace the hard and we are better.

Paul, a guy in the Bible who knew a lot about easy and hard said, “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us.” Paul learned to appreciate both sides of the coin—the refreshment of easier days and the challenge of difficult ones. How about you? Can you imagine a better outcome when the harshness of life brings profit instead of loss? I know it is a challenge and a lesson that I am still learning. But there is one lesson that is at the top of my to-do list—to remember and believe, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Family, food, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, missions, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, travel, wisdom

Sweet Tea

Posted on May 20, 2021May 19, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

Indeed, we have all received grace upon grace from His fullness.” John 1:16

Sweet tea…oh yes, the drink of the south. I was raised in the deep south and both food and drink were especially important. To most southerners, including me, food was never just food, it was the great comforter—the billboard along the highway of life that said, “it’s gonna be ok.” Growing up, whenever I was sad or happy or maybe a little blue—food was my friend. And what is good food without something good to wash it down? And down south…that has to be “sweet tea.” For clarity sweet tea is not brownish, tan water with some sugar or sweetener thrown in. No, sweet tea is brewed, a southern tradition and creation, and when it is done right, well, it’s down right heavenly. When it is done wrong, you end up with sweet brown water.

Sweet tea is not like wine. I’ve heard that wine needs time to age to become fine. That is not true with southern sweet tea. You see good, sweet tea has a short life span. Some would say hours, but no true southerner would say days. If sweet tea is done right it turns to syrup overnight. Leave a pitcher in the refrigerator till the next day and it becomes a whole different animal. Good sweet tea is meant to be drank in the moment. You may well sip it, but don’t take too long.

I discovered another kind of sweet tea from another part of the world. When the folks in West Africa drink their version of sweet tea, well, it is an event. First, it is served hot and not cold. Second, it is strong…VERY strong. They brew their tea in a very small pot, with a little water, a lot of tea and over a small coal fired burner. When it comes to a strong boil, they add boatloads of sugar…and I am not kidding. They scoop and scoop and scoop some more. The end result is one of the strongest and sweetest things you can imagine. Trust me, if you weren’t diabetic before you started, you will be by the time you finish. They say their tea is sweet like life and bitter like death.

The way they present their tea is also special. The host will go to great lengths (no pun intended) to pour his or her tea from pot to cup or glass from great heights. The distance a person can pour their tea and not miss the cup is almost a matter of national pride. A famous one-liner is, “I can pour my tea from the back of a camel on a very windy day.” It is a cultural thing…it is a people thing. You see good sweet tea does that. It brings people together. Whether it is a front porch in South Georgia, or a mat spread on the sands of the Sahara, tea…sweet tea, brings people together.

Today, in a time when there seems to be so much to pull us apart, maybe we all just need to sit down and have a good glass of sweet tea. For our friends in West Africa it is just a necessity. Go see someone and tea will be offered and, tea will be shared. It builds relationships, it opens the door of communication. Maybe that is one reason why my Momma and Daddy shared a cup of coffee every day when he came home from work. Maybe that is the reason we should do the same. Often when people talk instead of yelling, things change. It is true in government and it is true in church and it is true in homes.

I’m sure there are lots of reasons why things are so fragmented today and I’m also sure that a glass of sweet tea, no matter how good, won’t solve everything. However, I do know something that might. That is a couple of teaspoons of grace. Just like sugar tames the bitterness of the tea, so grace can tame a temper or temper a difficult situation. Tempered steel is made stronger by the process of applying heat. In the same way, relationships and people are made stronger by applying grace. And we have grace to share because the Bible says that from His fullness, we have all received grace upon grace.

So, when’s the last time you just sat down with a friend, or an adversary for that matter, and had some good, sweet tea mixed with a little grace? You might be surprised to learn that the gulf between the both of you is not as great as you think. It is certainly not so wide that grace can’t span the gap and trust me, no, trust Him—there is always grace enough. As always, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Family, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, wisdom

Nickels, Dimes and Quarters

Posted on May 19, 2021May 18, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

If you help the poor, you are lending to the Lord—and He will repay you!” Proverbs 19:17

It was part generosity and part tradition. When I was growing up, Sunday meant going to church. My Momma would always make sure I had taken a bath, combed my hair, brushed my teeth (I think), had clean clothes, and had an offering. There was something about going to church and taking an offering. It almost seemed like either God would be mad if I didn’t or the people at church would think we were poor or something…which we might have been.

Now the offering wasn’t a whole lot, but it was more than the widow lady in the Bible gave. Her offering was less than a penny, but it was really everything she had. Momma gave me a quarter most times but sometimes it was a dime and on rare occasions it was a dollar. Trust me, that was a rarity. Anyway, I finally figured out that it wasn’t the amount that mattered anyway. What mattered was that Momma thought it was important and it mattered that I didn’t pocket the quarter. Jesus said something about it was more blessed to give than to receive and I’m sure Momma knew that. So anyway, I gave the quarter.

I read a story the other day about a little girl who went to church just like me. Her Momma gave her a dime and a nickel. The little girl asked, “Which one am I supposed to give?” and her Momma told her she could decide. Well, when she came home from church, her Momma asked her which one she gave, and she said she had given the nickel. When asked why she gave the nickel instead of the dime she said, “Well, the preacher said that God loves people who give cheerfully, and I was a lot happier when I gave the nickel and kept the dime.” Smile.

I know that I am still a work in progress. God started the project way back in 1975 and He’s still working today. I’ve heard it said that His work isn’t done until He takes us home to live with Him. I believe that is true. One of the areas that He is working on with me is generosity. They say that if you want to carve a duck from a block of wood you just cut off everything that doesn’t look like a duck. Well, that is what God does with us except He’s not making ducks. He is making Jesus followers. And one thing I know for sure is that Jesus was always generous. He was so generous He gave His life away on a wooden cross to pay for everyone’s sin. Now that is generosity. Now that is love.

My point isn’t that you ought to give to the church. The point is we should all learn to be generous to others. A generous life is a happy life, and a generous heart is a happy heart. In the Old Testament part of the Bible in the Book of Proverbs it says, “If you help the poor, you are lending to the Lord—and He will repay you!” You know, I believe that is true. I’m also sure that the repayment may not be dollars and cents but rather a deep sense of peace and joy in our lives—and that is better—that is priceless. Remember this—God is more than willing to help you be like Jesus, but it all starts when we believe what He did and what He said. He died and came back to life and promised to forgive anyone who asked. Need a little help with that? Well, don’t worry, He’s got that too.

Bro. Dewayne

Family, gratitude, life, loving others, Military memories, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

Unkept-the Look

Posted on May 14, 2021May 13, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

Guard your heart above all else, for it is the source of life.” Proverbs 4:23

It was unkept…but it was cool. Ok, let’s just lay it out there. I am just a tad on the old school side. I was a teenager in the late sixties and early seventies with a daddy who wasn’t fond of anything countercultural—and that included longer hair. That was phase one. Phase two was twelve years in the United States Air Force. They and my Daddy would have gotten along really well- since they weren’t fond of anything countercultural either. Phase three was being a Baptist pastor. Back in the days, Baptists were pretty much not fond of anything countercultural either. Suits and ties were the norm and facial hair was basically a no-no. So, you can probably understand that I wrestle with some of the new fashion norms. It’s not that I don’t like them—it’s just that I don’t understand some of them.

As an example, part of my morning routine is having a time with God. Part of that is watching a short video of someone speaking. This morning it was a pretty successful young pastor from somewhere. As the video began I noticed a couple of things. First, his hair had the now fashionable “unkept” look. It was like he got out of bed, ran his fingers through his hair and went to work. Again, that’s cool. Hang with me. Second, he sported the wildly popular beard stubble look. I mean, if you don’t have a stubble… you’re not ready to rumble. He had a good stubble. Hey, that’s cool. I wish the Air Force had discovered that when I was in. Again, the cool “unkept” look.

Another fashion statement with the “unkept” look are jeans with holes in them. They are crazy poplar. When I was growing up jeans with holes were tossed out and people who wore them were poor. Now, people pay big bucks to have jeans with holes. Hey, just buy a regular pair and give them four years—bam—another cool “unkept” look. And you save a few bucks. Another “unkept” look that is popular with the “we don’t own an iron” crowd is the wrinkled look. You just grab your shirt or whatever and throw it on and you are in. Again, totally cool—totally in.

I’ve even seen this in yards. There are folks who have unkept yards because they just don’t like to mow grass or trim their yards but there is another group that simply loves that look. To them unkept is “unkept—the cool kind.” To some folks an “unkept” yard is all about nature. I really liked that when I was young—my Daddy did not. It just wasn’t his thing.

So, what’s up? Well, through the years different things have come and gone. It’s just the way culture works. Things are fashionable for awhile and they move on. I know there was a time I couldn’t imagine preaching without a tie. I even said one time that I didn’t think I could preach without a tie. Now days, I usually preach with an open collar. Things change. Right now “unkept” is cool and one day it probably won’t be and I’m good with it either way. But wait.

While “unkept” is cool, fashion wise…it is not cool or healthy to like an “unkept” life. You ask, “What is that?” It is a life that is lived solely in the moment. In the sixties it was the “if it feels good, do it” thing and each decade has had its version of that thought pattern. But the bottom line is that when we live “unkept” lives there are usually consequences and regrets. I said this morning to my wife Judy that “success is not accidental, it is intentional.” That almost sounds deep. I also think that God’s peace, and joy, and happiness, and a host of other things that make life worth living aren’t accidental either…they are intentional.

For me, as a Jesus follower, that intentionality involves checking in with God on a regular basis to see what He thinks about my day…my life. For me it is a daily dose of His Book, the Bible. Trust me on this one…there is a reason why it remains one of the best-selling books of all time. The truths and teachings of Jesus are found in the second part, the New Testament, and they were groundbreaking two thousand years ago and they still are today.

Ok, so I don’t know if I will ever do the “unkept” thing or not. It took me a long time to figure out I could teach without a tie. But I do know this. When it comes to life, a “kept” life is just better—fewer consequences—fewer regrets. That is probably why the Book says, “Guard your heart above all else, for it is the source of life.” God really wants what is best for us…He loves us that much. If you find yourself in an “unkept” mess, just remember that He is there waiting and no matter what it is, “He’s got this.”

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, Scripture, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Grace and the Big Bang

Posted on May 13, 2021May 12, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus.” Romans 8:1

I had no idea. I never saw it coming. When I woke on that Wednesday morning, I had no idea that something as dramatic as an automobile accident was going to occur. In fact, up to the point of impact everything was routine and then just like that, it changed. Now keep in my mind, in the world of accidents, mine was, well, minor. No one was hurt and that was the most important thing. But regardless, it was a big deal. It was the kind of deal that leaves a person scarred and wiser.

That accident at that corner happened 16 years ago and yet to this day, I never approach it without thinking about that day. I always, and I mean always, look both ways several times…just to be sure. Yes, the big trees and bushy bushes that obscured my vision that day are long gone but the memories are not. They are my constant companion next to me in the driver’s seat and they whisper…be careful. That is not a bad thing, as long as they are whispering and not shouting.

Perhaps there is an “accident” in your past that has left you a little scarred and a little wiser. The important thing is to make sure it stays in the past, forgiven, and is only invited in your present to whisper a wise word or two. The lessons of the past can help us not make the same mistake in our todays, but, don’t let them own you.

Two more lessons came from that Wednesday “Closer Encounter of the Ouch Kind.” I learned that little things can take down big things. The other driver was driving a much smaller car, a Honda Accord.” I, on the other hand, was driving a Pontiac Grand Prix. Logic would say that I would win the day but amazingly my car was totaled, and she was able to drive her car away from the scene. How is that possible? She was the one who delivered the punch and fate determined where. She hit me right at the door post of the driver’s side door. It was a critical area that bent the firewall and a bunch of other things that weren’t supposed to be bent. Bottom line? It was a knock-out punch.

An important lesson was reenforced in my life that day. Smaller things can cause massive damage to bigger things. It is true with cars, but it is also true of things like reputations, character, and life. It is important that we guard our heart and minds and keep the things that matter well-guarded and safe. Remember the words written by the wisest man ever to live, King Solomon. He said we need to catch the little foxes that ruin the vines. You see, ruined vines, don’t produce grapes and a ruined character takes a long time to recover.

Oh, and there was one more very important lesson from that day. The accident was my fault but there were some extenuating circumstances. The big trees and bushy bushes really shouldn’t have been there and later they were removed. But in my hand remained the ticket that said, “This was your fault.” The police office apologized for having to write the ticket but it all still said, “It was your fault.” But then an amazing thing happened. Someone heard about the accident and the ticket and extended…grace. Though I was technically in the wrong, they also knew the circumstances and the ticket was dismissed and the fine removed. Grace.

Paul talked a lot about grace in the New Testament part of the Bible but perhaps he said it best in a letter he wrote to the Christians in Rome. He said, “There is no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus.” In other words, because of Jesus, the guilt and penalty for their sins, for our sins, can be removed. And ,it doesn’t happen because we earn it, it happens because He loves us. You see, if we will believe in who Jesus was and trust what He did…the charges and penalty can be removed. We can be declared, “Not guilty.” How about that?

You may or may not have an “oops” on your driving record, but we all have plenty of oops as we travel the highways of life. It is good to know that there is Someone who has the power and the authority to extend grace—unmerited favor. His name is Jesus, and He is waiting to help us. No matter how obvious, no matter how big, you need to know, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, gratitude, life, Scripture, thankful, Trials

A Wrecked Wednesday

Posted on May 12, 2021May 11, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” 1 John 1:8

It happened on a Wednesday afternoon back in 2005. I had left work and ran home to do something. I am a creature of habit which means I do the same thing over and over again. That includes the way I come and go to work. For years I followed the same path and then one day I just changed and now for the last six years or so I have followed that path. It’s just me and the way I am wired.

On that particular day I was doing my habit thing. I pulled out of the alley that borders my house and onto the street. Within a block there is a stop sign and like I did every time, I stopped. This intersection was more than a little tricky because of several trees and bushes that were planted right along the road. We are talking big trees and bushy bushes…all planted …very, close to the road. So, after I stopped and looked both ways, I edged out, stopped again, and did my best to peer through the bushy bushes and around the very, big trees. I didn’t see anything (besides bushes and trees), so I pulled out. Well, my best was not good enough.

As I pulled out, I pulled right into the path of a Honda Accord. There was no time for an oops, no time to stop and restart, no time to do anything but brace for impact. The Honda hit me on the driver’s side, right at the door post of my much larger Pontiac Grand Prix. I had never had an accident before, and I still remember how impactful (no pun intended) it was. Fortunately, the other driver was not hurt and besides a couple of sore spots neither was I. The only thing hurt was my pride. I had caused an accident. I was a bad driver—or, at least, that’s how I felt.

Truthfully, that wasn’t true. I wasn’t a bad driver, but the accident was still my fault. Well, before long the police were there, and they did their police thing. They asked questions and I explained how I had tried to look but just couldn’t see the car coming. He said he certainly understood and in fact, a police officer had been involved in an accident at the same spot for the same reason. All of that didn’t change the bottom line…it was my fault. All the reasons and excuses weren’t going to change that. It.Was.My.Fault.

I wanted to blame the owner of the trees and bushes. In fact, I did blame the owner of the trees and bushes. I even went to their house and explained about the trees and the bushes. I wanted somehow to shift the blame from me to someone, to anyone. I learned that from my grandfather, a zillion times removed. His name was Adam. When he sinned he blamed Eve and God. He may have sinned but “Hey,” he said, “it wasn’t my fault.” He found out what I found out…the bottom line is the bottom line. It.Was.My.Fault. We need to own our sin. John, the one in the Bible, said that if we don’t own our sin or if we say we have no sin, we are only deceiving ourselves.

Well, there were consequences. For my efforts I was given a ticket which tainted my almost perfect driving record. I say almost because way back in 1984, I was in a hurry going to a revival and was pulled over for speeding. I explained to the officer I was a pastor and going to church (that was when I found out that was NOT the right thing to say.) Anyway, the insurance company didn’t like my now further tainted record.

The one consolation was shortly after that day…the trees and bushes totally disappeared…the city took care of that. Oh, and to this day, I avoid that intersection. I still tense up when I cross there. Now there is more to this story and I’ll write about that tomorrow. But until then just know this. God is good, God is faithful, and God can be trusted, and even when it is all our fault, well, we can know, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Family, forgiveness, Grace, life, prayer, thankful, Trials

Skunked

Posted on May 11, 2021May 10, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” Psalm 51:10

The little stinker was not welcome. A couple of days ago we went down to visit our daughter and son-in-law down by Kentucky Lake. We really went to see the grandkids, but we won’t tell them that. The place where they live is just beautiful. Close to the lake and surrounded by beautiful woods, it is the kind of place drinking a cup of coffee in the morning was made for. Of course, this time of the year, everything is lush and green. Gone is the bareness of winter as the time for things to sleep was replaced by a time of new life.

Because they are in a forested area there is plenty of wildlife around. It is not uncommon to see deer feeding down by the tree line and birds of every sort. Up the road a piece is a herd of Bison, a few horses, and cattle. They have a couple of dogs too, which adds to the mix. Oh, and then, there was the unwelcome guest. Two or three days before our arrival, my son-in-law spotted a skunk in the backyard. They were hoping that he was just passing through, but apparently, he kinda likes the place. Even when they don’t see him, they know he is around by the pungent odor that he carries with him.

Their two dogs, Rupp and Callie, seem to have a real affection for the skunk. They can’t wait to run down to the woods to try and find their new friend. Despite all efforts, they keep running and looking and one day, well, its gonna happen. Saturday morning during our visit, there was a “close encounter of the skunk kind.” Rupp is the much more obedient of the two dogs. He will generally come when he is called and while he and the skunk are pals, they are not on a first name basis. Callie on the other hand has gone over the edge. That morning, Callie took off and either met the skunk or came close because she came back wearing some of his perfume. It wasn’t a direct hit, but there was an aroma.

She came in the house and ran into the master suite and soon it wasn’t “sweet” any longer. What she apparently loved to roll in was, uh, not so pleasant to us. In fact, both occupants of the bedroom were up and outta there. Now personally, Callie didn’t smell that bad to me. Either my smeller wasn’t as sensitive (no COVID, thank you) or I quickly got used to it, but regardless it wasn’t a big deal. Well, Callie ended up banned from the yard forever (except on a leash) and they ran her through the equivalent of a dog carwash. She did smell a lot better. Hey, no harm, no foul.

That evening, after driving back home, I put on the same pajama shirt that I had worn that morning and proceeded to study my sermon. As I sat at my desk, I noticed a faint but familiar odor—it was the offensive perfume. Apparently, there was an odor after all and later when my nose was more awake, it became evident. I changed shirts and threw that one in the wash. Hopefully by the time we visit again, Mr. Skunk will be history.

You know I was surprised to smell the odor on my shirt that evening. That morning I didn’t smell a thing, but that night it was clearly obvious. What was the difference? I think there was enough odor in the air at my daughter’s house that my shirt simply smelled like everything else. I grew too accustomed to the odor. The offensive smell became “normal.” I have a feeling that may happen more often than we realize. It has nothing to do with skunks, but everything to do with our “skunky” or sinful actions.

If we are not careful, we become too accustomed to our harsh words, or our negative mindset, or our unkind actions. And, because they are part of our “normal” we never even know it. But remember this…those around us know it and Someone even more important knows it—God. The best way to fix the problem is to live in such a way, that that kind of “normal” is never normal. Just like a fresh environment revealed the odor in my shirt, we should allow our environment to be so pure that anything stinky will become readily apparent.

One time, King David of Old Testament fame, got more than a little “skunky” and spent most of the rest of his life trying to get rid of the stench. He prayed a lot during those days and one of his prayers went like this, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” That’s a good prayer for sure. And, by God’s grace, he was made clean. In fact, he was known as a “man after God’s own heart.” So, when you get “skunked” just take it to the Father and rest assured that He can handle anything and everything. He’s got this—even our stinky sin. Bro. Dewayne

*A special thank you to Ellie Grace, (granddaughter) for making today’s graphic-great job Ellie!