Category: Trials

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, school days, Scripture, Trials

Crash, Grind, Bummer!

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted in communication, Integrity, life, Military memories, Scripture, Trials

Mr. B

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord will personally go ahead of you. He will be with you; He will neither fail you nor abandon you.” Deuteronomy 31:8

So, here’s the story. A long time ago, my wife and I were living in Warrensburg, Missouri, renting a house in a neighborhood that was still being built. We had just come back from three years in Germany with the Air Force, and we were still getting used to married life—only four years in. We had this big dream of owning our own home, but it wasn’t exactly a great time for buying. Interest rates were sky-high at around 18%, and inflation was crazy. But then, a little opportunity came along.

The guy behind the neighborhood development was a rough-around-the-edges contractor named Mr. B. We ran into him a few times as he was working on building the homes, and he brought up this government program that could help us build a house. They’d pay half the interest, which, honestly, sounded amazing compared to that 18%. So, long story short, we ended up getting approved, and soon we had a piece of land on Hilltop Drive with our names on it. We even added a few upgrades like a bay window and a fireplace in the basement. It cost a little extra, but they were worth it.

Looking back, I’m not sure if it was the smartest financial move for us, but it worked out in the end (that’s another story). It did cause some financial stress though, so to help, Mr. B suggested I do some “work equity.” He said I could do some of the labor for the house in exchange for a reduced price. Let me tell you, that was no easy task. I ended up doing all the painting and staining—inside and out. For a guy who’d never done anything like that, it was a big challenge.

But there was another way I could help ease the financial strain. Mr. B told me I could work for him on Saturdays, doing basic labor, and he’d pay me $15 an hour. Now, back in 1983, that was pretty good money, so I said yes. At the time, I was working in the Air Force full-time, pastoring a small church for $50 a week, and now I was going to work for Mr. B on Saturdays. Definitely stepping way out of my comfort zone.

Saturday came, and the job site was just down the street from our rental house. We were putting up heavy metal forms to pour the basement for a new house. We had to lift these things into place and hammer pins to hold them together. I was pretty nervous, but aside from dropping my hammer once, it went alright. We finished up around 4:00 PM, just in time for me to get home and start working on a sermon for the next day. Exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover it—I’m sure that sermon was a little on the short side!

The next week, I ran into Mr. B and he handed me my check. I had worked eight hours, so based on the $15 an hour he promised, I was expecting a check for about $120. But when I opened it, I found a check for only $40 and some change. I was pretty shocked. I asked him, “Mr. B, is this right?” He assured me it was. I said, “But you said $15 an hour…” He chuckled and replied, “Oh, I was just kidding about that. We actually pay $5 an hour.” Yeah, I wasn’t laughing. Honestly, I felt pretty betrayed. He promised one thing, and then gave me something totally different. That was the last Saturday I worked for Mr. B.

Have you ever felt that way? Like you’ve been promised something, and then it didn’t happen? Ever feel that way about God? It’s tough when people let us down, right? But it’s even harder when it feels like God doesn’t keep His promises. Here’s what I’ve learned over the years. When we feel betrayed by God or like He’s not coming through, it’s usually because we’ve misunderstood or misapplied His Word. The Bible is full of promises, but not all of them are for us. For example, the promises made to Abraham are not promises made to me. A lot of times, people—preachers, teachers, even regular folks—make promises on God’s behalf that He never actually made. And when those promises don’t come true, we end up blaming God, and that’s not right.

I’ve been following Jesus for over 50 years now, and I can tell you one thing: He has never let me down. Sure, things haven’t always gone the way I wanted, or the way I expected, but He’s never broken His promises to me. He is faithful and trustworthy. I can say that with confidence—He is a good God, and He’s good at being God. You can trust Him.

So, while Mr. B’s “little joke” was a tough lesson, it taught me something valuable. His heart was good, but his sense of humor? Not so much. But I’m so grateful that my Father God has a perfect heart, and His plans for me are perfect. No matter what I face, I know it’s for my good and His glory—and that’s enough for me. I can face today knowing, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, life, Scripture, sovereignty of God, Trials

Like a Thief in the Night

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later.” Romans 8:18

It came like a thief in the night. I believe it was Jesus who said something like that in the New Testament part of the Bible. It seems that He was talking about the time when He would come back to take His family home to be with Him. He was telling His followers that they should always be ready because there probably wouldn’t be any warning.  Well, as it turns out that doesn’t just apply to things like Jesus’ return. While we were in Florida experiencing a respite from the Southern Illinois winter, it turned out that something was coming my way without much warning.

One day in paradise, I woke up with a bit of a cough—the kind that you write off as caused by drainage down your throat.  So, with a hack-hack here and a hack-hack there, I wrote it off—until I couldn’t. After the “hacky” thing continued for a couple of days, I woke up one morning pretty sure that a tractor-truck had detoured through our bedroom during the night. While I have never actually experienced a hangover I am pretty sure that morning I felt like I had one. The hack-hack cough was in full swing, my head was filled with misery, I had a headache, and my body definitely felt it’s full 71 years.

As the day progressed I actually felt a little better so, as planned, my wife Judy and I began our journey home via my sister’s house in Alabama. That night I wasn’t very hungry and turned in a little early. And then, like a thief in the night, whatever it was returned with a vengeance. After getting up, I stayed at the house all day while my sister and Judy did some shopping. When they got home everyone decided I needed to go to the doctor—and I did. The diagnosis was “Type A” flu. I don’t know what the “A” stands for but it seems to me it has to do something with AWEFUL because that is exactly how I felt.

Now, a few days later, As I sit at home at my desk trying to make this story make sense, I realized that I had no idea where this storm came from. As far as I know, I had not been around anyone with the flu. What I do know is that I got it.  Gratefully, this is about day five and I am beginning to feel some better. I do know this, while this caught me totally off guard, and it indeed did strike like a thief in the night—my Father was on duty the whole time and gratefully it did not catch Him off guard. You know I’m not sure why God allows things like this to pop into our lives (nor why He created mosquitoes) but I do know He doesn’t waste anything—not even a case of the flu.

So, what is going on in your life right now? There is a good chance it is some much bigger than my case of the flu.  But here is something I love about our Father—no matter how big or no matter how small, He can give every situation His full and loving attention. Be sure and rest in that. Oh and rest in this—He loves you more than you can imagine. So no matter what is trying to sneak into your life—know it can’t sneak up on Him. You can rest assured that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, life, loving others, Scripture, travel, Trials

She Just Wasn’t Herself

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

She just wasn’t herself. Several years ago, we spent a few days in Panama City Beach on Florida’s Gulf Coast. We were lucky enough to have a condo right on the beach, five stories up. The view and the sound of the Gulf were absolutely amazing. We’ve been here many times, but this trip felt different.

See, I was raised on the East Coast of Florida, where the Atlantic Ocean is. The water there is kind of grey, always moving, with waves constantly crashing toward the shore. But the Gulf? It’s usually a lot calmer, with that smooth, bluish-green water. It’s beautiful, especially in the winter. Even though the water’s too cold for me to swim in, I never get tired of looking at it. But this time? Something was off.

Right from the start, the Gulf was much more stirred up than usual. The waves were big and constant, crashing in one after the other. The red flag flying on the pole said, “Stay out of the water,” and honestly, you didn’t need the flag to know that. The ocean was rough, and the sky was filled with grey clouds that matched the color of the water. It was like the Gulf just wasn’t herself. Something had her worked up. What was it? I don’t know, but she was definitely off her game.

But here’s the strange part: even though the Gulf wasn’t acting like herself, it was still beautiful. There was something powerful and majestic about those waves, and it reminded me that nature, in all its wildness, is still part of a bigger plan. Even though things weren’t calm, I knew that I’d be back here again someday—and the Gulf would calm down too. The rough waters didn’t change the fact that this was just a moment in time.

That got me thinking about us. We all have our days, don’t we? Times when we’re not ourselves, when we’re not calm or peaceful, but instead feel like we’re struggling, all stirred up inside. And, just like the Gulf, we might not even know why we’re feeling that way. We might not be able to explain it. People who see us from the outside might notice that we’re not our usual selves, but we’re the ones in the middle of the storm, feeling all the turbulence. Hopefully, it’ll pass, and things will settle down again.

So, what do we do when we come across someone who’s acting like the turbulent Gulf? I think the answer is simple: we show them grace. Grace is God’s unearned favor, and He gives it to us freely. And because we’ve received so much grace from Him, we’re called to extend it to others. As John puts it, “For from His fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” Jesus was overflowing with grace, and He shared it with everyone He met—including us. So, it makes sense that we should do the same. When we understand how much grace we’ve been shown, it becomes easier to pass that grace along to others—especially to the people who need it most.

Eventually, we had to head home. We left the Gulf, and according to the forecast, the waves would stay rough for a few more days—but not forever. Calm days would come again, both for the Gulf and for me, and for you too. And for that person who’s struggling right now? Go ahead and splash a little grace on them. It might be just what they need to find calm and beauty again.

And whether you’re in the middle of your own storm or standing on the shore watching someone else, remember this: whether you need grace or you’re extending it, God’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, travel, Trials

Excuse Me, Sir!

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.” Philippians 2:4

I never was tall.  All my life I have been on the short side.  Now to be clear that isn’t always bad.  The basement at 217 where my wife Judy and I live is not tall either.  I have watched many a repairman bump their head on the various pipes that hang down.  Most, though not all, I am able to cruise beneath…sometimes by a little and sometimes by a little more…but rarely is there a bump.  Being on the not tall side does have its advantages.

With that said, I am sometimes just a little jealous of those taller than me—which is just about everybody. When I stand next to someone in a photograph I always wince if my partner is, oh, about six foot or so.  When this happens, I struggle and strain to reach my full height of just under five foot eight…attempting to close the gap as much as I can.  I’ve been known to stand on a rock or curb to help compensate. Works every time.

Now there is a circumstance that all we height challenged, males or females, wrestle with. When I go into an auditorium or movie theater, either solo or with Judy, we look for a seat that has a good view of whatever it is we are there to see—whether it is a screen or a speaker.  We make sure no one is in front of us and then we began to pray.  You might think that a strange time to have a prayer meeting but trust me it is quite appropriate.  You see, we are praying that the Jolly Green Giant has decided not to attend the event that night.  We are also praying that if he does, he will not sit in front of us.  This prayer is rarely answered.

We will be chatting and praying and out of the corner of our eye, we catch a glimpse of the Jolly Green Giant and sure enough he chooses the row and seat in front of us. Dang.  At that point, unless we grow or he slouches in his seat, it is game over.  Our choice is to move to another seat or begin exercising our neck muscles to see if we can see around our Ho, Ho, Ho friend.  It can be frustrating. It can be infuriating. It should be neither. I mean we aren’t talking about the end of the world.  Or, are we?

You see, I am certain that Jolly didn’t plan to be a wall that night.  I am sure he didn’t scan the room and carefully choose a seat in front of us.  It wasn’t his fault and it shouldn’t have messed with our evening. The problem was my reaction, or overreaction.   The bottom line is to do what you can, when you can, and work around the rest. Of course, I suppose you could pack pillows to sit on but that too might be an overreaction.

Of course, by now you are probably thinking there has to be just a bit more to this story than not being able to see…and there is.  The big truth is all of us, short or tall, wide, or thin, should always be alert to be considerate of those around us.  We all have the right to side or stand where we want to but when we choose to think of others, well, everything is just better. Of course, this works in many different ways, helping someone whose arms are full of groceries, giving up a close parking spot or even putting your grocery cart in the buggy corral. Once we start looking, there are so many ways we can be a blessing to others. 

Paul, the guy who wrote a bunch of the New Testament, had this in mind when he said, “Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.” That is something each one of us can do every day.  Take a moment and look around for ways that you can make the person in front of you, beside you or around you, feel important. Let them know that they do matter.  You just might make their day…or their night at the movies…a little better.  Need some guidance?  Just ask the Father and He will be glad to help. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, forgiveness, Grace, life, New Year, Scripture, Trials, wisdom

Watch For the Flag

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

“A thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I have come so that they may have life and have it in abundance.” John 10:10

The flag was busily snapping in the wind.  A couple of years ago, my wife Judy and I journeyed to Panama City Beach burning a few leftover vacation days and looking for a little white space before we started another busy year.  White space is that thing you have when there is less pressure to be and do and it gives you an opportunity to recoup, recharge, and restore.  I know in my preretirement world that was a rare thing and therefore an especially valuable thing.  That day we were sitting on the balcony looking at the Gulf of Mexico and enjoying the balmy 76 degree temperature.  Can someone say, “Paradise?” It was then I really noticed the flag.

To help swimmers stay safe in the Gulf waters, the local authorities have flag poles up and down the beach and the color of the flag informs the beach goers of the water conditions.  A green flag means everything is good…calm waters and currents.  A yellow flag indicates that there is a slight risk and one should at least pay attention to the waves and the currents.  A red flag means that no one should go into the water…there are significant waves and dangerous currents.  A double red is as if they are shouting the warning.  Well, when we arrived there was a yellow flag and it was warm enough that more than a few people were swimming.  Then came the next day.

Judy was out on the balcony and I was inside writing Grits.  She watched as the safety patrol came by and changed the flag from yellow to red.  While the waves were a little boisterous the real danger was what was happening under the water—riptide.  Riptide is an undertow that can quickly pull you away from the shore and immediately put you in danger.  Apparently that danger was greater than normal. The internet said it and so did the flag but surprisingly many people simply ignored it.

I joined Judy on the balcony for breakfast and a break from writing.  I watched as a young lady, probably in her late teens, walked right pass the flag pole with its red flag.  She was carrying a wave board and her beach stuff.  She put her board and bag on the sand, spread out her towel and quickly removed her swim coverup.  And then, without a thought, grabbed her board and headed out into the water. Soon she was further out than anyone else and the current had moved her probably thirty yards down shore. No, this story doesn’t have a tragic ending but from my fifth story balcony it did give me a clear perspective.  While she probably never even saw the red flag, I could see it clearly and because I saw it clearly I knew there was a danger.  I knew I needed to stay clear of the water.

I found it intriguing that some saw the warning and heeded it, some saw the warning and ignored it, and some blindly ran straight into the danger…totally unaware and it made me think.  That day happened to be New Year’s Eve.  That meant we were, Lord willing, about to walk right into a brand New Year and we know now from past experience that we really don’t know what the new year will hold.  The good news is there is Someone who does know and that someone is the God who created all of this.  And here is more good news.  First, He loves us dearly and wants more than anything for us to be able to call Him Father.  That happens by believing in His Son…the One we celebrate at Christmas.  Google it…it is an incredible story.

Second, if we are willing to believe and listen, He too will give us wisdom and guidance for this New Year and for that matter each new day.  No, it probably won’t be a green, yellow, red or double red flag—it will be something better—His Word.  The Bible isn’t just a rule book—a bunch of do’s and don’ts but rather it is a love letter where the One extending the love shares how to make the most of life.  In fact, Jesus said, “A thief (that is Satan) comes only to steal and kill and destroy.” But what He says next is amazing, “I have come so that they may have life and have it in abundance.” Someone said that translates as, “the life that is really life.” I like that.

So, as we continue our launch into 2025, and knowing more than ever before how uncertain a New Year can be, why not check out a relationship with Creator God…why not check out Jesus?  If you have or if you begin one now, it would be a great time to get into His Word and watch for the “flags” He shows you.  Oh, and here is more good news.  If you do find yourself in dangerous waters, don’t worry, He will still be there for you.  Over the din of the waves and the pull of the current, you will hear Him shouting, “It’s OK…I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, Holidays, life, New Year, prayer, sovereignty of God, travel, Trials

The Captain

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “The men were amazed and asked, “What kind of Man is this? Even the winds and the sea obey Him!” Matthew 8:27

It was a long, long time ago.  There are many historical events that are almost timeless.  They carry with them a mystical allurement that keeps them alive in the minds of people.  No matter how much is written, when that event is mentioned, immediately interest is peeked, eyes focus and ears open. Such is the story of the Titanic.  It was on May 31, 1911, that the Titanic was launched.  Now launched didn’t mean open for business…ready to sail.  No, it meant that Titanic had what it needed to be called a ship but not what it took to make money.  The hull, the keel, the engines all were in placed but people don’t pay for that…they pay for the good stuff, the nice stuff, the luxurious stuff.

Well, almost a year later, on April 10, 1912, all that stuff was in place and the great Titanic was ready to set sail.  The appointments of luxury were amazing.  For that time and that place there simply was nothing like the Titanic.  Of course, there were different classes of people who bought tickets—from the very rich to the improvised poor looking for a fresh start in America. But the Titanic was really…or was she?

Four days after her maiden voyage began, she struck an iceberg and, in a few hours, sank in the icy North Atlantic taking with her well over a thousand souls.  While all the details are a matter of debate, most agree that the basic design of the ship was flawed.  The watertight compartments instead of being totally sealed allowed water to overflow from one compartment to the next.  Like a cascading river, the water flowed from one compartment to the next sealing the fate of the “unsinkable” ship.  Not one detail for the comfort of the Uber rich was overlooked and yet the one thing that could have kept her afloat was.  Amazing…and disconcerting…worrying.

I think what prompted me to write this story was the New Year.  We all, well those who were awake, watched the ball fall, the peach drop, the fireworks explode.  We celebrated; we partied launching into the seas of another New Year.  But as we launched, did anyone, did someone, did I, did you stop and examine the “ship” that was going to carry us into 2025?  Have we carefully crafted the “luxurious” while ignoring the crucial…the vital?  Did we plan diets and dream of vacations while being strangely silent about the most important? Did we launch into 2025 without the one thing that would ensure our safety…our survival?

What is the one thing?  Better yet, who is that Someone?  Well, the answer is Creator God. These days I still feel compelled to make sure we understand that I am not talking about church (though that is profitable) or religion (though that can be good) but I am talking about making sure He is the Captain of our ship.  Try this on for size.  When the Captain of your ship is the Master (and dare I say Maker) of the storm, there is great comfort.  The passengers have the calming assurance that no matter what, He is there, He is ready, He is in charge.

One time the disciples of Jesus found themselves in the midst of a terrible storm, in what could only be described as an oversized rowboat.  They were frightened to the point that they thought death was imminent. Just about then they remembered that Jesus was asleep at the back of the boat.  They woke Him with a shout of “Don’t you care we are about to drown?”  Well, Jesus got up, spoke to the wind and waves, demanding calm…and it happened.  He then asked the guys about their faith.  Where.Was.Their.Faith.  Looking around at the now calm sea and their frail oversized rowboat they asked a question, “What kind of Man is this? Even the winds and the sea obey Him!” Hmmm…good question.

The answer, of course, is that He is and was a one-of-a-kind Man, a Man like no other, God in human form. He was the Captain and Master of the storm and what was true then is true now…with Jesus in your boat you don’t have to fear. So, as we launch into 2025, shouldn’t we make sure that our Captain is Jesus, and shouldn’t we invite Him to lead and guide us?  Any unknown, any new horizon can be frightening…unless the Creator and Master of it all is on board.  If He is…we don’t have to worry because we have the confident assurance that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in birthday, Easter, food, life, pride, priorities, Scripture, Trials

Igor

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.”  James 1:3

His name was Jason…I called him Igor.  It was a long time ago and it was one of those times when it was time to do something.  The high humidity in my closet had once again shrunk most of my clothes.  It is just one of the hazards of living in Southern Illinois between the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers.  While it is always the worst in summer, somehow, it manages to shrink my clothes right after the holidays too.  So, rather than go out and buy new duds, I just try and lose a few pounds.

One Sunday morning at church I mentioned to a good friend of mine that I was going to try and shed a few pounds.  Well, he said to me, “Dewayne, I’ve got a personal trainer at the gym and how about if I arrange for you to see him three times a week.  By Easter, you will be a new man.”  I had never seen, much less had, a personal trainer, so it sounded like a good idea to me.  Maybe he could speed up the weight loss so I could get back to my bad eating habits…that I greatly enjoyed.

For my birthday, Judy and I drove over to Evansville on a mission to get me a couple of sets of gym clothes.  We got to Sears, and they had what used to be called running suits on sale.  That’s what they used to call them.  Now they call them obsolete. Anyway, I bought one.  It had the pants and the jacket, and I looked like, well, a dude.  I was to start working out with Jason, the trainer, on Monday.  I put on my fancy running outfit and drove over to the gym.  I opened the door and instantly realized that I was way overdressed. Remember the joke about the guy being told that he was going to a costume party, so he dressed up and nobody else did?  Well, I was that guy. Bummer.

I soon met Jason and he kinda explained what we would be doing over the next few months.  He explained that he was going to make my body hurt…a lot. Well, he didn’t actually say that but that was the reality.  After our first workout on the first day I could barely walk to my car.  The next morning, I wasn’t sure I was going to live. Fortunately, I was meeting with Jason every other day, so I had a day to decide if I was going to live or not.  By the end of the week, I had changed Jason’s name to Igor because I was sure he got some sort of sick pleasure out of watching me suffer.  And I did suffer…a lot.

Over our time together, we did lots of fun things, but my absolute favorite was squat thrusts.  It was some kind of deal when you squatted down and then kicked your legs out the back.  Then you returned to the squat position before standing back up.  I’ve obviously never had a baby, so I have no idea what labor pains feel like.  But I do know this.  If leg squats are even 20% like a labor pain, then if the repopulation of the world depended on me it would be a very small world.  Total population:  One.

Well, I don’t remember making it to Easter.  Things did get toned up a bit, but I wouldn’t exactly say I was a new man.  I did get a new perspective on these guys and ladies who go to the gym and apply self-inflicted Igor-ism.  That is the self-infliction of Igor like pain on themselves. You’ve got to admire them—but as for me that would be from outside the torture chamber—uh, I mean gym.

Now there is one thing I need to make sure is clear.  Igor, I mean Jason, had my best interest in mind.  He was trying to help me reach my goals and help me be in better physical condition. It just wasn’t a pleasant experience…at least not on the front end anyway.  But do you know what?  Rarely are the things that really matter.  I know the Bible teaches me that trials are not easy, and they are never fun, but they are profitable because they teach me endurance. That’s what James, Jesus’ little half-brother, meant when he said that when our faith is tested, our endurance has a chance to grow. Going through the hard stuff strengths our faith.  And, trust me, that is a good thing.

Shortly after I quit going to be with Igor at the gym, I ran into him at one of the stores in town.  When I ran into him, I wanted to run from him.  But we chatted and he asked how I was doing.  I said fine.  He said he missed seeing me at the gym, and I made some kind of flimsy excuse, like I had a rare terminal African disease.  I don’t think he bought it.  So, we parted our ways. I was grateful for his help, but I was also grateful that my gym days were over.  I’ve just got to be sure I don’t give up on my real personal trainer—Jesus.  Like Jason knew what was best to help me physically, He knows what is best for me spiritually.  He encourages me, always has my best interests at heart, and never makes a wrong call. He allows me to pace myself and allows me to rest when I need it.  He’s the best life trainer of all. And I know this for certain.  If I falter or fail, He will always be there because, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne 

Posted in forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Messes to Masterpieces

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago.” Ephesians 2:10 

Messes. Yup…been there and done that. All of us have made a mess at one time or another. Sometimes it is a spilt drink at the dinner table. Sometimes something slips from our hand and onto the floor. Sometimes we get way too much paint on the brush or roller and we go from masterpiece maker to mess maker. The old saying says, “We shouldn’t cry over spilt milk” and I get it but sometimes it is just so frustrating. But wait! A spilt glass of milk or a splattering paint roller is one thing but what if the mess is a broken marriage?  A broken heart? What if the mess costs you thousands or a couple of years of your life? You see messes can have huge consequences.

I’m glad to let you know that when there is a mess on aisle three there is someone who can clean it up.  I’m glad to let you know that there is someone who can take the mess on the wall and turn it into a masterpiece. The other day I was reading a story that is pretty amazing and the best part is that it is true.  It all happened over a hundred years ago when a group of fishermen were relaxing in the dining room of a Scottish seaside inn, trading fish stories. Well, one of the men gestured widely, depicting the size of a fish that got away. Accidentally, his arm struck the server’s tea tray, sending the teapot flying into and on the whitewashed wall, where its contents left an irregular and very large brown splotch.

The innkeeper heard the commotion and came out of the kitchen and into the dining room. With a groan of dismay, he surveyed the damage and sighed, “The whole wall will have to be repainted.” “Perhaps not,” offered a stranger. “Let me work with it.” Having nothing to lose, the owner agreed. The man pulled pencils, brushes, some jars of linseed oil, and pigment out of an art box. He sketched lines around the stains and dabbed shades and colors throughout the splashes of tea. What happened next was almost too hard to believe.

After an hour or so, an image began to emerge: a stag with a great rack of antlers. It was nothing short of amazing. Then, the man who had turned the mess into a beautiful picture, signed his name at the bottom, paid for his meal, and left. His name: Sir Edwin Landseer, famous painter of wildlife. And what was not obvious soon became so.  In his hands, a mess became a masterpiece. Wait…think about it. A.Mess.Became.Masterpiece. Amazing.

But here is something more amazing.  You see, in God’s hands this happens time after time after time.  As He works in the messes of our lives He can take the biggest mess and turn it into the most magnificent masterpiece rendering them as beautiful expressions of His great love. The result is our lives become a gallery of pictures—examples of the incredible wealth of His favor and kindness towards us.

So let’s be honest. Messes are going to happen and no that isn’t an excuse for sloppy living but neither does it mean we are worthless and hopeless. No, we are His masterpieces—trophies of His amazing grace. Each day we see examples of His creative grace that are always signed—I’ve got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, life, pride, Scripture, travel, Trials, wisdom

Falling For Indian Point

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and He delights in his way. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down; for the Lord upholds him with His hand.” Psalm 37:23-24

 I fell and I fell hard.  It was a Sunday afternoon a few years ago.  I had the opportunity to speak a couple of times at the church where I pastored and it was, as always, one of the things I just enjoy.  I love sharing and watching truth come alive in people.  It was a great day to be at church too because every Sunday someone new came back from the COVID blip.  Each Sunday was like Christmas morning and a family reunion all rolled into one.  After church there was lunch with a couple of friends and family and then…wait for it…the nap.

There is something about a Sunday afternoon nap that is almost sacred.  After speaking and eating, napping is just a natural.  Well, after all the essentials were done, I decided to…take a hike.  My wife Judy was down south visiting family so I had some time to myself.  I really enjoy hiking with her but second best is just taking a hike.  It was a beautiful day and Judy and I had talked several times about trying a trail called Indian Point.  That was my destination. So after a short drive,  I arrived and was glad to find it wasn’t too crowded

So, I hopped out of the car and off I went.  I forgot my hiking stick in the trunk until I was about ten minutes in and I would regret that a little later but hey.  The first part of the trail was like a nice walk in the woods.  There were plenty of rocks and roots to avoid but not enough to distract from the beauty around me.  I slowly ascended and soon, off to my right, I began noticing spurs off the trail that led to various lookouts.  They were amazing.  Atop large rock formations, the valley below spread out like a beautiful quilt in various shades of green.  God impressed me…again.

Soon I was back on the trail, still amazed and still climbing up.  Before long, I could see what had to be the trail’s name sake…Indian Point.  It was a large rock outcropping many, many yards wide and it just invited you to come and see.  So, I stepped up the pace in anticipation of what was coming.  I should have been a little more careful.  On my way to the point, I suddenly had an unexpected experience.  As I was walking and as I was looking ahead, the toe of my boot caught a small root knob and, well, it wasn’t pretty.

I’m not sure if my hiking stick would have saved me or not but since it was back in the car that didn’t matter.  I stumbled for one step and then just fell. There was no time to break the fall, no time to put my hand out—I fell and I fell hard.  I landed on my left side and frankly for the first few seconds I was just stunned.  And then, in a moment of brilliance, I said, out loud, “That hurt.” And it did.  In my pride, I was immediately glad that no one was around to see my descent and painful crash landing.

I slowly, ever so slowly, stood up and accessed the damages.  First, thankfully, it involved no blood but it did include a large knot on my left forearm, a banged-up knee and a rib cage that said, “Ouch.”  Ok, so, I proceeded to the lookout, determined not to let what had happened rob me of the moment—and it didn’t.  I continued on the trail and what lay before me was just amazing.  The incredible rock bluffs, caves and flowering trees were amazing.  I was blown away. God was obviously showing off when He made this part of Southern Illinois.

So, I made it back to the car and, yes, there were definitely some sore body parts.  A few minutes later, I had to cough and I quickly found out just how sore my ribcage was.  When I got home, I found out I couldn’t even bend over to get my boots off.  The good news is that after taking too much Ibuprofen, I could. For the record, I wouldn’t have missed the hike for anything.  I can’t wait to take Judy with me.

My big take away wasn’t the fact that I fell, or that I was going too fast, or that I should have been paying closer attention—though all those are valid.  My big take away—and don’t miss this—was how something so small could cause me to fall so hard.  The root knob was probably two inches high but it was all that was needed to bring me down. For all my trails in my future, at least as long as I remember how bad this hurt, I will probably be a little more careful.  I know I was a bit sloppy in my walking but it’s hard to look down when things above are so beautiful. There’s a lot of truth in that one!

My Dearest Daddy, of course, knew all about all of this and you might want to debate His goodness.  If He is so good why this and why that but you would be missing the point.  The fact is…I walked away.  The fact is…this morning, I can move.  The fact is…I was able to enjoy the rest of the hike.  The fact is…He is a good, good Father.  One of my favorite Bible verses says that He directs my steps and even if I do fall, He is there to pick me up.  I like that…a lot and He was there to pick me up.  And, He will be there to pick you up.

So, if you have some time and enjoy hiking, take a hike on Indian Point trail in Southern Illinois and be prepared to be impressed. Watch for the rocks and the roots and don’t get too much in a hurry.  You might take a tumble or miss something spectacular.  And don’t be afraid because whether it is a trail or day at the office, or no matter what, “He’s got this.”  Bro. Dewayne