Trials – Page 69 – Grits with Grace

fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, Trials, wisdom

A Memorable Funeral

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

Be prepared, whether the time is favorable or not.” 2 Timothy 4:2

It was years ago and something that I will never forget. I am a pastor and that often gives me the opportunity to help people at some of their hardest moments. Over the last 38 years I have officiated at hundreds of funerals. Some of them were tragic and some of them were celebrations of life. Regardless…they were all difficult. I believe that every service should be as personal as I can make it. I heard a story once of a pastor who was asked to do a service for a man he didn’t know well. Unfortunately, he kept calling the gentleman by the wrong name. Finally, in sheer desperation, his wife shouted out, “John, his name is John.” Gratefully, I have managed to avoid something like that thus far. But there was one funeral I will never forget.

I said earlier that I am a preacher…a pastor. Well, I happen to be a singing pastor. You see, long before I started preaching, I was singing. I’m certainly no Frank Sinatra, but I can carry a tune. That led to opportunities to serve families in another way. When the funeral home needed a vocalist, I would sometimes get a call. One day…the call came. I was to sing a couple of songs…one at the beginning and one midway through the service. So, my time came…no pun intended…and I sang my first song and then the second. An older pastor was speaking and he was really into the sermon. As the vocalist, I was sitting in a side room where I couldn’t see him, but I could see the audience. And then…it happened.

As I said he was preaching hard, and all of a sudden two things happened in a split second. First, a moment of silence. It went from “Katie bar the door” to dead silence. Then, in a moment of time, there was something that sounded like a clap of thunder—literally. And finally, there was the sound of chaos—-people screaming and crying. It was a very frightening moment. Immediately I stood up and looked into the room where the preacher was lying on the floor. It seems as he was preaching, he suffered a massive heart attack, fell on top of the folding pulpit which then caused it to collapse. That was the clap of thunder.

The funeral home folks called 911 and they quickly arrived and carried him out. I’m not sure if he passed right there on the floor or in the ambulance, but he didn’t make it. When they had left with him, I wondered what in the world do you do now? The funeral director came over and said, “Dewayne, can you finish the service?” I told him I could if he would get me a Bible. The preacher’s Bible was still laying there so he picked it up and gave it to me and we finished the service. It was one of the strangest things I have ever witnessed—especially at a funeral. As a side note, in a day or so, the funeral home called and asked me to do the service for the pastor who had died, and it was my privilege to do so.

I would suppose that there are a lot of lessons that can be learned from this but the big one is—we need to be ready. We need to be ready to step into any situation that might arise. There is a verse in the Bible that says we should be prepared whether the time is favorable or not. That is good advice. We never know when we will have an opportunity to make a difference in someone’s life. I don’t know exactly how well I did finishing the funeral that day, but I hope I was able to bring some peace into a crazy chaotic moment.

There’s also another lesson—another truth—from this story. We should be prepared to step into eternity. When we think of death, we often think we will all live well and long, die easy, and go to heaven. The truth is we just don’t know how long we will live, but we can all be prepared. I like what a friend of mine said one time. He said, “I’m prepared to go to heaven, I’m just not ready to go.” He was just saying that he was prepared to go to heaven he just wasn’t ready to get on the next bus. I’m sure the pastor who was speaking that day was prepared, but he probably didn’t have any idea that he would board the bus right then.

The good news is that because of the Good News, we can all be prepared. Because of what Jesus did on a Roman cross two thousand years ago, we can know that we are going to heaven. It’s not about religion or church—it is about faith in Him dying and coming back to life three days later. It is about believing that He was who He said He was, that He would do what He said He would do, and about repenting and trusting in Jesus as the Way to eternal life with God. If you haven’t made that commitment, I’m hoping you will. Google it and check it out—check Him out. The Boy Scout motto is “Be Prepared” and I hope you are. When it comes time for us to board the bus, we can have the confident assurance that He will be there. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

forgiveness, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Trials

Drop the Rocks

Posted on February 11, 2021February 10, 2021 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

It kinda made me mad. I know there are a multitude of things in the world that make us mad and there are also degrees of madness—boy is that a play on words. There is a little mad, some mad, half mad and downright mad. Well, anyway, I was just a little mad. Back on the first Monday in January, I started walking again for exercise. Since the weather is so unpredictable, I decided to just use the treadmill. It isn’t as good as the outdoors but you sure can work up a sweat. So, five or six days a week I have my date with “the mill.” I have a television mounted right in front of me to keep my mind busy while I walk. With all the new streaming services there is a lot to watch.

One of my favorite things is something called “Aerial America.” They take a particular state and with a drone and/or helicopter they fly all over the state and shoot video. It is very interesting and stunning but there was a problem. Because it was filmed from the air, I had a hard time staying on the treadmill. They would go up and down, left and right and I was all over the place with them. You know…where you stare you steer. Maybe I needed to find something else to watch while walking on the treadmill. I decided it would be a great opportunity to get some good Bible teaching, so I started watching services from some of the guys I like. It has been very profitable.

Different guys have different styles and I always try and pick speakers that stay close to the Bible and there are a couple that have large ministries and by and large do a great job teaching. Now, I never agree with everything that every speaker says. In fact, I teach every Sunday and guess what? I don’t always agree with me. It’s just a fact of life so if you teach publicly get ready for someone to say something. I get that. But then there was this morning.

As I was looking for something to watch from one of the guys I follow, I saw something that just about made me mad. Some no-name guy, a pastor, teacher posted a video calling this nationally known speaker a “false teacher.” Well, I didn’t watch his video because it wasn’t worth my time. But I wondered exactly what caused him to say that this guy wasn’t the real deal. Now again, I don’t always agree with everything this teacher says nor how he says it but “false teacher?” I don’t think so. He leads one of the largest evangelical churches in America. He teaches the Bible and at the end of every service he has a time for people to act on what they heard and specially, to act on an invitation to accept Jesus’ invitation to follow Him. He gives an old-fashioned altar call.

Oh, and one other amazing thing. Everything this church produces, sermons, curriculum, music, you name it—they give it all away for free. His church could make a zillion dollars but instead with incredible generosity they just give it away. I find that amazing. So, what’s up with the dude who made himself judge and jury? If I were to take a guess it would probably be jealousy. When someone is successful some people just assume that they are fake or false. It seems the more successful a ministry is, the more people cast stones. Cast stones…hmmm. It seems like Jesus had something to say about that. Remember?

There was a woman in the Bible taken in the very act of adultery. The Pharisees (we won’t go there) dragged her out in public in front of Jesus and declared, “Moses said we should stone this woman. What do you say?” First, and always, don’t mess with Jesus. You will lose. But Jesus stooped down and wrote something in the sand, (we don’t know what), and then said, “Okay.” Well, that wasn’t all He said. The rest rattled their bones. He said, “Okay, but the person without sin needs to cast the first stone.” You could hear a pin drop, but then you would have heard something else—the sound of rocks falling to the ground. And, beginning with the oldest to the youngest, they left—all of them. Jesus looked at the woman and said, “Where are your accusers?” They had skedaddled. And here’s the best part. The One who was left, Jesus, the One who could condemn her—didn’t. Amazing.

I know it is our natural tendency to chuck rocks but don’t you think maybe it is time to let the rocks fall. Whether you are a Jesus follower or not, chucking rocks is a dangerous game. Those rocks can act like boomerangs—and that will definitely leave a mark. Should we practice a discerning spirit? Absolutely. But rock chucking has nothing to do with discerning—it has to do with a judgmental spirit. I know, those rocks can be hard to drop sometimes but I know someone who is good at dislodging them from our sticky hands. His name is Jesus, and you can take it to the bank, He’s got that too. Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, Southern born, Trials

Cross Country

Posted on February 8, 2021February 7, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

Don’t you know that the runners in a stadium all race, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way to win the prize.” 1 Corinthians 9:24

They called it a physical fitness test. I called it Hades. It happened every nine weeks. That was the length of the grading period at the high school I attended. Every male who attended Nathan Bedford Forest High School and was breathing was required to take a physical fitness test at the end of the grading period. It involved several things…pushups, pull-ups and my personal favorite, throwing up. What was ironic about this, is for all the time before the test we didn’t train for it. We might play softball or volleyball or some other team sport, but we didn’t train for “the test.” We also played something called battle ball where we gathered in the gym and played a sadistic form of dodge ball. There was a guy named Johnny who had abnormally long arms and could hurl the ball at incredible speeds. The last thing on earth you wanted was to be the last victim on one side and Johnny on the other. It wasn’t pretty.

Anyway, we were not prepared but that didn’t seem to matter. We had to take “the test.” The worst part of this Gladiator style arena of horror was the cross-country run. Let me see if I can set the stage. Imagine you are in North Florida and it is late May. The temperatures regularly climb into the lower and upper nineties. The humidity is at ninety percent or higher. Remember they call Florida the Sunshine State and that is for a reason…the sun is beating down unmercifully. And, by luck of the draw, you have P.E. right after lunch. The day before, the coach announces that we would be running “cross country” tomorrow. It was too late to train…it was too late for anything but a few prayers.

In an attempt not to throw-up, you eat a light lunch and then report to P.E. You pray to stumble and break your leg on the way to class, but that prayer goes unanswered. You change clothes and anxiously meet outside. They call the roll and then give the command to report to the starting line. What lies ahead is two and a half miles of running in the heat of a hot, late Spring day. Like “sheep led to the slaughter” you line up waiting for the whistle. Soon, too soon, it blows and off you go.

Now you really need to understand that cross country for those who have trained for it is a challenging, but somewhat enjoyable sport. I’ve even heard reports of a runner’s high. I never experienced that, but I did experience a runner’s low. It happened about a hundred yards into the course when I realized that I was going to die—or wish I could. I can still remember the course to this day. It was two and a half times around the perimeter of the school property. If you ever wonder what eternity is like, talk to me…I ran it. Actually, to say I ran might be a stretch. I sorta ran it. Not soon enough and it was over. As you cross the finish line you hear people saying, “Don’t run toward the light…don’t run toward the light.” After about 15 minutes your heart rates goes below 600 and you can breathe again. I hated that test. A lot.

I never really understood the point of asking someone to do something but not preparing them for it. We ran that distance and more in basic training in the Air Force but we slowly prepared for it. Again, it was challenging but doable because of the training. I think this is not just a lesson about running, but about life. I’ve heard that life is a race and unless you are incredibly unfortunate, it is not a sprint, but rather a marathon. If you are going to succeed in life then you need to prepare, you need to train and pace yourself. Fail in that and you might well fail in everything you attempt.

Paul, a man from the Bible, wrote a letter to a bunch of Jesus followers in Corinth. They had their own set of games and there were prizes to be won. It was an open deal so anyone could sign up, but if you were wise, you trained first and you ran with commitment. In that letter to the church at Corinth he says, “Don’t you know that the runners in a stadium all race, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way to win the prize.” In other words…train like you want to win and run like you want to win and guess what? You just might do it. Regardless, you can finish the race knowing you gave it your very, best shot.

I went through three years of high school and had four nine-week periods per year. If my math is right that equates to sixteen times that I had to line up to get ready to throw-up. Guess how many times I trained? That would be zero. Sixteen times I knew it was coming and sixteen times I thought the next time would be different. Hey, plant corn and you’re gonna get corn. Every.Single.Time. So why not start today to run for the gold—to live like no one else? Why not start today to make the best of everyday and when race day comes…you’ll be ready. There’s a great Coach who will help you train and run. His name is Jesus, and He is on your side. He’ll even run beside you…all the way, shouting words of encouragement. Listen as He shouts, “You’ve got this, Dewayne.” “How?” I ask? “Because I’ve got it for you,” He responds. I like that. Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, life, prayer, Scripture, thankful, travel, Trials, wisdom

Light at the End of the Tunnel

Posted on February 4, 2021February 3, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

I have come as a light to shine in this dark world, so that all who put their trust in Me will no longer remain in the dark.” John 12:46

There’s light at the end of the tunnel. I have heard that saying all my life (well, at least a chunk of it). But the truth is the light at the end of the tunnel just might not be enough. You see, about 20 miles from where we live, there is a bike trail with a tunnel that is 543 feet long. It’s located in beautiful Southern Illinois. Oh, I know, I say beautiful and Illinois in the same sentence and all people can think of is flat corn fields and Chicago. But tucked away in what we call the “real” Southern Illinois are many trails with beautiful hills and rock bluffs in the Shawnee National Forest.

Tunnel Hill Trail is a gem in our area and perhaps the highpoint of the trail is its tunnel. Our church has an annual bike ride that begins at the tunnel. At its peak we would have over a hundred riders—big and little, young, and old. What makes it even better, the small town of Vienna (where we have our picnic) is only ten miles or so from the tunnel and that part of the trail is either flat or slightly downhill. I told the church riders that, but I’m sure after riding it they thought I might have stretched the truth. Well, maybe a little. But the truth is—ten miles on a bike seat is still ten miles on a bike seat.

I have learned over the years to respect every foot of the tunnel there. As you enter the tunnel, two things are apparent. One, there is plenty of light. So, it is easy to assume that there will be plenty of light all the way through. That would be a mistake. Second, you might assume that since you can see the “light at the end of tunnel” that would be enough to get you through. Uh, that would be a mistake too. Let me describe it…though words really can’t do the job. You have to experience it.

Whether you are riding your bike or walking, as you enter the tunnel you really do think, “Oh this isn’t too bad.” There is plenty of light and of course, you can clearly see the light at the end of the tunnel. Slowly, very slowly, almost without noticing, the light fades away and suddenly, just shy of halfway, you find yourself in total, eerie, darkness. What seemed so easy now seems increasingly difficult. Even with the light at the end of tunnel, you can’t tell where you are going. You think you are in the middle of the trail when in fact you can easily be heading straight for the walls. Over the years, everyone who has ridden with our group has made it through the tunnel. It’s just that some of them came out with a few bruises and scrapes…courtesy of “the walls.”

Well, after about a hundred feet, light slowly starts appearing around you and before long the light pouring in from the end of the tunnel envelopes you…and you are glad. I’ve even ridden in the tunnel with a flashlight and it still seems difficult. You see, light at the end of the tunnel or not, darkness is difficult. You simply lose all sense of where you are. That is true in tunnels…and it is true in life. Too often we are faced with choices and decide that we can handle what our common sense tells us is a bad idea. We enter the tunnel with plenty of light and assume we have escaped the blight of our choice. Only later do we see what we couldn’t see—the consequences of our decision. Only when we “hit the wall” do we understand the pain of our decision. It is only after we emerge back into the light that we can see the wounds from the walls and realize the scars that we will bear.

Life will have its valleys and not all tunnels in life are caused by our misguided choices, but the good news is regardless—we can find help. Imagine what it would be like to take sunlight with us into the valleys—into the tunnels of life. What if the deepest valley and the darkest tunnel could be lit as noon is on a sunny day. Well, it can. You see, there is a light that defies darkness and is brighter than the sun—in fact, it is the Son. Two thousand years ago a Man was born that claimed…and proved…that He was the Son of God and His name is Jesus. Have you ever wondered why this simple carpenter from an obscure village in the Middle East commands center stage on the stage of history? The reason why? He is the real deal. The Bible describes Him as the Light of the world…and He is. And when a person follows Him, he walks in His light.

Jesus said, “I have come as a light to shine in this dark world, so that all who put their trust in Me will no longer remain in the dark.” That is a claim, a promise, worth checking out. When we were kids a lot of us were afraid of the dark. As adults most of us have outgrown that fear, but we still have reason to fear the phantoms of the dark…things that are bigger than us. Jesus drives the darkness and phantoms away when we chose to follow Him. He’s waiting right now to bring light into your life…your tunnels. When we find ourselves in our darkest moment, you will hear the Whisperer whisper, “Fear not…I’ve got this. And He does. Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials, wisdom

My Cussing Summer

Posted on February 2, 2021February 1, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus.” Romans 8:1

It was the summer of my rebellion. I know, some people are born compliant and some are born a little on the rebellious side. I was born compliant. I have always been a rule keeper—well, at least most of the time. I suppose that is why I took to religion so well. You see religion is all about keeping the rules. The idea is if you keep enough of the rules then people will like you and most importantly, God will like you. And sure enough, it worked—well, at least part one worked. In my younger years, most of the adults thought I was a good boy. Church? Got it. Drinking? Not a drop. Drugs? Nope. I can hear them saying it now, “That Dewayne is such a nice boy.” And, I suppose outwardly I looked pretty good, but pretty good won’t get you to heaven.

You see the second part of the religion mantra is that you can make God happy by performing—by keeping the rules. That one is 100% false. There is no one, except Jesus, that was good enough to go to heaven. Yet it seems so many church people say they believe that rules won’t get you to heaven, but act as if they will. They carefully do this and that and boy, if you happened to be one of the ones who didn’t keep the rules, you were tried, convicted and sentenced. That’s why I had to keep my cussing summer quiet.

I think maybe all the rule keeping must have finally got to me. The bottom line is during the summer between my junior and senior years of high school—I started cussing. I had a job at an apartment complex down the road from our house and I worked with the son of the head maintenance man. He was not a Jesus person and he did like to cuss. So, one day, I just started cussing too. I had heard enough cuss words at school to know most of them, so I didn’t have to have any lessons…though I did have to work on my voice inflections.

It was a very tricky time in my life because I had to turn the cussing on at 8:00 am and I had to be sure and turn it off at 5:00pm. That’s what you have to do when you are living a double life. Under no circumstances did I want to spoil my good boy image at church or with my Mama and Daddy. I do remember one time I let a small one slip and Mama looked at me with eyes that said, “Where did that come from?” Of course, I didn’t, I couldn’t let her know that her baby son was a cusser.

And, as quickly as it came, it passed. At the end of the summer, I had to go back to school and therefore had to quit my job. All I know is that the cussing stopped and my rule keeping world got a little easier. I managed to please a lot of people, but I knew I was far from pleasing God. It would be several more years before I finally figured out that rule keeping didn’t work and religion didn’t either. When I was 21, I finally found grace and boy was that a game changer. Honestly, it is taking me a long time to shake the deep roots of rule keeping and religion. I’m still working on it.

You might ask, “How do you know if you are under the influence of religion and rule keeping?” Well, its two main indicators are self-condemnation and a tendency to judge others. Rule keepers are acutely aware when they or others around them break a rule. Rule keepers (and religious people) like to point out other people’s sins and faults because it makes them feel better about themselves. If they can make you feel bad, then it makes them feel better. It’s a pretty twisted world.

God’s way is so much better than religion and rules. Did you know His Book, the Bible, actually says that when someone believes in Jesus and becomes one of His followers that there is no condemnation—none—nada? I mean when the prosecuting attorney and the judge both acquit you—the trial is over. I’m slowly learning just how valuable that is. There is an audience of One that Jesus followers have to live for and that is God…their Heavenly Father…their Abba Father…their Dearest Daddy. I love what Toby Mac (a contemporary Christian singer) said, “I gave God a million reasons not to love me. Not one of them changed His mind.” I like that!

Well, I’m glad my cussing summer is ancient history. I still look back at those two or three months and wonder what in the world was I was thinking? The truth is…I probably wasn’t. But now, by grace, that, and all my other failures, warts and sins are forgiven…all because of Jesus. I’m so grateful for that. If you have never discovered grace and forgiveness, especially God’s kind, I hope you will check it out. Don’t get confused with religion and rule keeping like I did. God’s got something far, far, better than that. Think you’ve messed up too much to be forgiven? Nope…don’t give it a second thought. Trust me…He’s got this.

Family, fear, gratitude, life, loving others, missions, prayer, thankful, travel, Trials

Praying Mantis

Posted on February 1, 2021January 31, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

When you’re in over your head, I’ll be there with you. When you’re in rough waters, you will not go down. When you’re between a rock and a hard place, it won’t be a dead end—because I am God, your personal God, the Holy of Israel, your Savior.” Isaiah 43:2-3a

He was coming after me. Over the years, my wife Judy and I have made many trips to Africa. We have spent time in Niger, Mali, and Uganda. All were unique in their own way and all were very special. Our time in Mali was especially so. We were working with one of our favorite missionaries. She is the real deal kind—the kind that if you were to stick her finger…she would bleed Jesus. Those trips were also highlighted because we worked with a group of One-Story girls. These college age young ladies gave up the comforts of home to spend a couple of years living in the African bush telling people about Jesus. They were incredible.

So, on one of these trips the team had one of those especially good days. We were able to minister and share with a lot of folks. We would start early and go the entire day. We would do mostly medical missions and story-telling and encouraging. When we got back to wherever we were staying we would have supper together. Then, when the African sun had finally called it a day, we would gather under a large open air bamboo….uh, thing. We would sing, share stories and have a brief devotion before joining the sun and calling it a day too.

These team times were very special moments. As the days passed, we as a team became closer and closer together. There were about twelve or fourteen of us…so not too large. Of course, that didn’t include other guests. Sometimes Africans from where we were staying would join us, and of course some or all of the interpreters. And then there were the other guests. Their names would make you think they were members of the team…but they weren’t. Praying may have been part of their name but, it wasn’t on their agenda. They were…praying mantis.

These large insects—about the size of a small eagle—would be drawn to the light as we sang and shared. Slowly they would start circling, choosing their targets. Now, I don’t know if they intended to bite someone—I don’t think so, or if they intended to carry someone off to their secret lair. Regardless, it was just a little spooky. Finally, and who knows why, I was picked by one of them. Repeatedly, this fellow would dive and try to land on me—particularly my face. Ok…it was weird. I was grateful when the prayer time was over. I confess I cheated and kept one eye open looking out for my new found friend.

Judy and I headed back to our hut and prepared for bed. We had a mosquito net over our bed to keep out those pesky insects and their friends. Soon it was lights out and off to sleep. Sometime later, we were awakened by the sound of something larger than a mosquito. Lion? No. Tiger? No? Elephant? No. It was the…praying mantis. Apparently, he followed me home and waited for the lights to go out before once again taunting me. It turns out there was a small hole in the top of our mosquito net and he found his way in and then…it happened.

As Judy and I lay in the African night, from out of the darkness (no electricity) the praying mantis landed square on my face. Now what happened next can’t be written because it goes beyond the 26 letters in the English alphabet. I jumped up and started clawing in the darkness trying to find my stalking insect. I finally grabbed him (gross), wrestled him to the bed (remember they are the size of eagles…smile), raised the net and chucked him outside somewhere, anywhere but where he was. And then I did some praying of my own. “Lord, please don’t let him find the hole again.” Thankfully, he didn’t, and thankfully that was the last I saw of him.

Well, the next night I had a testimony to share at story time. We all had a good laugh (and by the way…they really aren’t as big as …eagles but it sure seemed that way.) I remember telling my teammates how grateful I was for answered prayer…and honestly I was. Until you’ve had something like that land on your face, in the dark, in Africa—well you just can’t appreciate a God who answers unusual prayers. But you know, that’s the kind of God that He is. Nothing is too big…and nothing is too small for this Dearest Daddy who calls us His own.

One time God was talking to Israel through the prophet Isaiah and He said no matter what we face…when we are over our head in trouble, or maybe between a rock and a hard place or even the occasional fiery furnace—He will be with us. Why? Because He is our Savior, our Lord, our God. Wow…what a great scripture and I can add to that list “face eating praying mantis.” God is always there with us and for us and no matter what, He’s got this. Take that, Mr. Mantis.

Family, forgiveness, Grace, life, loving others, Scripture, Trials, wisdom

Pardon Me, Your Slip is Showing

Posted on January 28, 2021January 27, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

A good person produces good things from the treasury of a good heart, and an evil person produces evil things from the treasury of an evil heart. What you say flows from what is in your heart.” Luke 6:45

Pardon me, but your slip is showing. Change is everywhere. I can well remember my Mama getting dressed for church. In those day she always wore a couple of extra “accessories.” First, she was a big fan of what I guess was called girdles. As I remember, these things were designed to hold things in place around a lady’s waist. I never saw Mama put one on, but I know she wore one. How? When we were sitting in church, I would get bored and start doing “things.” Things are anything to help pass the time. So, I would poke my Mama in the side, only to find that it was hard as a rock. As impenetrable as the Great Wall of China, there was something firming things up. I suspect it was “the girdle.”

The other thing was something called a slip. As best as I could tell it was worn under a lady’s dress to ensure that nothing was seen through. Now I know more about this because my Mama always wanted to be sure her slip wasn’t showing. It was important to have the slip shorter than your dress by a couple of inches. Well, since she couldn’t see behind her (we didn’t have a full-length mirror), she would say, “Dewayne, is my slip showing?” I would get behind her and give her the report. I think in our early years of marriage, slips were still in vogue. I’m pretty sure Judy asked me to give her the “slip” report too.

Nobody, and I mean nobody, wanted to get to church and have their slip showing. How many times did we get somewhere public and there in front of us would be a lady with her slip showing, Mama would sadly shake her head and say, “Oh my, her slip is showing. She should have someone check.” Well, some time ago slips went out of vogue and so with it the way of the slip report. No slip…no report. But the saying still lingers.

When you hear someone say “your slip is showing” it means that something they intended, or perhaps should have intended, to be hidden is there for everyone to see. Well, here’s a news flash. Someone needs to tell everyone that their “slip” is showing in social media. Now I am not a Facebook person. I use it to post Grits, to make a couple of church announcements and wish people happy birthday. But beyond that, it just isn’t my thing. But even with that limited exposure, and thanks to folks who sometimes tell me what they see, well, there are a lot of “slips” showing.

I’ve almost stopped being shocked at what people write on Facebook. It seems people confuse the privacy of their journal with Facebook. Things that should never be written or spoken spew on the pages like a bad case of the stomach flu. Hurtful, painful words too often fill the screen of our devices. I remember one time a lady who attended our church at the time wrote some very un-Jesus like words. I asked her about it and she said, “Well, I didn’t know the whole world would see them.” “What? Uh?”

So, I think when we see someone being unkind and harsh in social media we should just say, “Pardon me, but your slip is showing.” Now “showing your slip” with unkind words is never right. You know your Mama taught you, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” Well, Jesus gives us another perspective and warning. He tells us that out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks. In other words, what comes out of our mouth is simply revealing what is in our hearts. And if hurtful, unkind, and sometimes untrue words flow from our mouths, or our fingers, according to Jesus, it is just revealing what is in our hearts.

I know, if you aren’t a Jesus follower that doesn’t make a lot of sense but hey, kindness is really in vogue these days even in the secular world. It might be selective kindness, but it is there. Now, if you are a Jesus follower, God gives us a word for this kind of word stomach flu. It is called sin. No matter the circumstances or the way we attempt to justify it, it is sin. If you feel the need to express your displeasure with someone, why not try praying. God is always up for an authentic prayer on behalf of someone and you also won’t be surprised to hear “your slip is showing.”

I happen to be one of those people who too often speak without thinking but I am learning to hit the pause button. They say the older you get the more you lose your filter. You say things…and write things…that are just not right, or kind or both. Then, you end up telling God you are sorry and experiencing that regret thing. Of course, depending on your lack of filter, you may not have any remorse…and that is the worst thing of all.

So, what do you say? Let’s start a “Pardon me, your slip is showing” campaign. It is a gentle way of letting someone know that their communication is, shall we say, embarrassing. They may not thank you now but maybe, just maybe, they will later. And if you are like me and sometimes wrestle with putting your mouth in gear when you shouldn’t, ask God to help. He will, trust me. This is a big deal to Him. The good news is that like everything, “He’s got this.”

Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Barney

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

For instance, there was Joseph, the one the apostles nicknamed Barnabas (which means “Son of Encouragement”).” Acts 4:36

It happened driving down the road at 55 miles per hour. When I was growing up, there was one man outside my family that I respected so much…one that garnered my admiration. It was my pastor. His name was James Branch. I happened to be an insider at his house because his son was one of my best friends. It didn’t matter when or where—I always saw him as a man I could trust and more than once he was there for my family. When my Daddy died early one Sunday morning, he was at my house. I can still remember him on the back porch in his white shirt minus the black tie he wore, consoling my Mama. She was so upset and began to hyperventilate. Bro. Branch, with his hand on her shoulder, spoke words of comfort and peace. There can be no doubt he played a big role in how I would later serve as a pastor.

That might be why it stung so much. I received an email this week from a national organization. It revealed the results of Gallup’s national survey on American’s perception of the honesty and ethical standards of professions. Not surprising, 89% of Americans gave nurses high or very-high standards. Doctors stood at 77% followed by pharmacists at 71%. Well, I certainly can’t argue with that. These dedicated folks have surely shown their colors this past year during the COVID-19 pandemic. Hats off to our school-teachers too, who scored 75% and our men and women in blue who scored 52%—the only other profession about which a majority of Americans say have high or very high ethics and honesty.

The article went on to say that clergy or ministers came in at 39% when it came to honesty—right between judges and nursing home operators. While senior adults as a group ranked pastors higher (51%), the younger generation (ages 18-34) rated pastors only at 24 percent. To put it in perspective, in 1985, pastors received a 67% rating. When I think of my pastor in 1974 who stood on the back porch with my grieving family, I have to wonder, “what happened?” Why is it that so many think so lowly of clergy? Some of the reasoning, I believe, is a cultural shift—while too much, might, just might, be the truth. It seems we can only go a few weeks without some named pastor being in the news for some breach of trust. I just don’t know.

When I read this news, I grieved. After all, pastors, above all other Jesus followers, should be, must be, people of integrity. We should set the example. Granted, we are not perfect—in fact far from it. Like the old saying goes, “Christians, including pastors, aren’t perfect, we are just forgiven.” I like that. This is why what happened that day driving 55 miles per hour meant so much. My phone rang.

I looked at the caller ID and saw it was a young man who is a member at the church I pastor. Honestly, I wondered why he was calling. While we speak often at church, he is not on my speed dial and I’m sure I am not on his. I answered the phone and exchanged greetings and said, “Hey, what can I do for you?” What happened next was not what I could do for him, but what he did for me. I won’t get it all right, but the bottom line is he said, “I know you have a really hard job right now with all that is going on. I want you to know as one of the younger generation, I think you are doing a good job.” He shared how he and another of our young guys were talking the other night—sharing the same thing. It made my day and I told him so.

It turned out that he was driving in the same direction as I and had passed me and just felt prompted to make that call. I’m so glad he did. It is one of those times I just wonder if the Whisperer whispered in his ear and said, “Call Dewayne. He needs a good word about now.” And thankfully he did. So, let me encourage you to be an encourager. We all know people who just need a word to help keep them going. There was a guy in the Bible whose name was Barnabas, which literally means “encourager.” I’m assuming he was such a positive force in the lives of others, someone said, “We’ll just call you Barney…and it stuck”.

So, to my Barney that Friday morning, thanks. Thanks for listening to the Lord and thanks for encouraging a guy who happens to be a lot older than you and who happens to be a pastor. And keep it up. There are a lot of empty cups in our world that need filling. I love the fact that my Dearest Daddy believes in me. I’m still amazed how much Judy believes in me. But when someone outside that circle cares and believes…that is special. Let’s join Jesus and be the light in someone’s day. Encourage everyone you know and assure them that everything is going to be okay. Why? Because, “He’s got this.”

Family, fear, gratitude, life, loving others, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Our Longest Day

Posted on January 25, 2021January 24, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

Let us not get tired of doing good, for we will reap at the proper time if we don’t give up.” Galatians 6:9

It was a long day. I can’t tell you how many times I have said it. My wife, Judy, often greets me at the end of the workday as I come home. She will say, “How was your day today?” And sometimes I will respond, “It was one long day.” Then there are other times, often on a Friday or Saturday, when the day seems to stretch on forever. I get so much done around the house and yard and at the end, I tell Judy, “What a great long day today.” Often the circumstances of the day seem to dictate how the day will be remembered and perceived.

Perhaps you are familiar with the date, June 6th. No? What if I were to add the year 1944 to the equation? Well, if you have studied your history you probably made the connection with World War II and you might have even remembered that was the day of the Allied invasion of Normandy, France—the beginning of the end of that great conflict. It was a massive under-taking and the outcome was never a sure thing. But at the end of the day, and with great cost, the Allies gained a foothold on the European continent. Someone there that day called it, “the longest day.” And it was.

All of us have “longest days” and yes, I know that 2020 may have seemed like 366 of them. Sometimes those “longest days” cause us to mourn, but sometimes they are a reason to celebrate. For my wife and me, January 24th was one of those. You see, on that day, forty years ago this year, our first daughter was born, and it was a long and exciting day.

Late Thursday evening Judy started having some consistent labor pains and when they didn’t stop, we knew it was time to head to the hospital. When we arrived, they decided to keep her and the journey began in earnest. Judy had decided to have Rebecca without much intervention from medicine, so it was a challenging process. By the way, if it had been me, I would have had every drug available to modern man. We all know if populating the world was left in the hands of men—it would be a very, small world.

At any rate, the hours began to pass. As the clock ticked the seconds, minutes and hours by, it soon became apparent that this was not going to be a sprint but rather a marathon. All day Friday, I (her faithful husband) stayed by her side, encouraging her each step of the way. Well, okay, maybe there were a couple of exceptions. A friend of mine brought me a huge burger and fries which I dutifully ate while Judy watched—no, make that glared. What was I thinking? Oh, that’s right…I wasn’t.

The hours continued to tick by and soon it was evening and while things were progressing, Rebecca was determined to delay her grand arrival. Finally, at about midnight, Dr. Dickerson, came in to check on Judy and announced it was about time. I had the television on and one of those ultra-low budget Japanese monster movies was on. Before long, the doctor and I were enthralled with the movie. So, while Judy was groaning in labor, the doctor and I watched as Godzilla ate up the known world.

Finally, the movie was over, and Dr. Dickerson announced it was time to head to the delivery room. Coincidence? I was allowed to go in and not much later, Rebecca made her grand appearance. The baby was crying, Judy was more than relieved and crying, and I was more than excited and crying. As it turned out, Judy had endured 23 hours of labor before Rebecca was born. Oh, and when she arrived, she weighed 8 lbs. 15.5 ounces. What a prize!

For years and every once -in-a-while, even today we still talk of our longest day. Well, actually, it was Judy’s longest day. For me it was burgers, fries and a cheesy monster movie. But for both of us it was a day we will never forget—the day God blessed us with our first daughter. And before it was all said and done—He would bless us two more times with two more daughters and later with eight grandchildren. That is incredible. And what’s more incredible? The next day, the pastor asked me to speak on the radio and give my testimony for Baptist Men’s Day. I’m sure that longest day was part of what I said that day and God used that to launch me—us— into the ministry of pastoring.

So, when you have your longest day, keep in mind a couple of thoughts. First, every day is created by the Creator God. His Word says tells us that this day, every day, is a gift that He created just for us. How about that? And if we will allow God to direct our steps in that day, we will not only endure—we can thrive. I know it seems sometimes that the finish line—the prize, is always just out of reach—but it will come if we keep on.

Paul was one of the writers in the New Testament and he knew a whole lot about long days. He may not have known about the labor pains that produce babies, but he did know a lot about the kind of “labor pains” life can sometimes send our way. He said, “Let us not get tired of doing good, for we will reap at the proper time if we don’t give up.” The bottom-line is don’t give up—don’t quit. And by the way, even if you are not a Jesus follower, that is still good advice. The farmer gets the harvest if he keeps working the field. The good news is that God is just waiting to help you through every day, including your longest day. He is right there and mark it down, “He’s got this.”

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

I’m All Shook Up

Posted on January 20, 2021January 18, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

The prudent see danger and take refuge, but the simple keep going and suffer for it.” Proverbs 27:12

I grabbed it and couldn’t let go. I’ve said it before but growing up, times were pretty hard. My Daddy worked very hard to provide a good home for us and we always had plenty of good food. Sure, sometimes there was more “loaf than meat” but hey it was still good. One of my favorite food memories from when I was nine or ten was a fried potato sandwich. When there wasn’t any meat for sandwiches, Mama would slice some potatoes and fry them up. We would slap those things between two pieces of bread with some mayo and instant heaven. I mean who doesn’t like home fries anyway?

We lived in an old World War II barracks that had been converted into a two bedroom house with a breezeway that led to a closed in garage that served as a third bedroom. We also had two acres of land which was great for playing but not so great for mowing. We didn’t have a riding mower until I was in my teens so the two acres had to be mowed by hand. To get it done we had an old push mower. Just trust me that was a lot to mow with a push mower. Anyway, this mower had two unique qualities. First, it didn’t have a throttle. It had one speed—wide open. It was one of those deals where you wrapped a rope around the top and gave it a yank. If you said your prayers and held your tongue just right—it would crank. And like I said, when it started…it started.

The other quirk with our lawnmower was that it didn’t have a kill switch either. There were two ways to turn it off. First, you could take a screwdriver and ground the spark plug to a metal part on the mower. The second was a lot more risky. You could attempt to pull the spark plug wire off the spark plug. Now, keep in mind I was pretty young and didn’t understand all the dynamics of a spark plug, the coil and touching the wrong thing at the wrong time. I was a setup for a shocking experience.

So one day…you can see it coming can’t you? Well, one day, I was done mowing and the lawnmower was running wide open. I had to kill the beast—slay the dragon if you will. I was a good piece from the shed and didn’t have a screw driver so that left only option 2—pulling off the spark plug wire. Running wide open, shaking like a hula dance (that would be me and not the lawnmower) I reached down and grabbed a hold. I still don’t know if I grabbed the wrong part or if the current came though the brittle insulation on the wire but it got me.

I’m not sure if I can describe the sensation that I experienced. I can vividly remember two things. My whole arm shaking and the fact that I couldn’t get loose. I’m sure I’ve never experienced anything quite like it. Like the Ray Stevens song about the Mississippi Squirrel, I was sure “something had a hold of me.” I don’t know how I got loose. It may have been mercy from above or pure desperation but I did get loose. The lawnmower was still running and my arm was still shaking. If you ever see this strange twitch in my left arm—well, it still hasn’t got over the sensation.

I’m supposing I got a LONG screwdriver and killed the engine and I am also sure I never, and I mean never, went out again without it again. You only need to grab the wrong thing one time and you will never do it again. I know that is true with quirky old lawnmowers but I also know it is true with bad decisions. I suppose everyone of us has a bad decision somewhere in our past—and I am not talking about spicy pizza as a midnight snack.

There are certain things, and a lot of times they are lawbreakers, that you shouldn’t do once much less twice. If we would just hit the pause button and think about it we could eliminate a lot of our regrets and consequences. Do I really want to do that? Do I really want to keep that date? Is that a call I really want to make? Is that a relationship I really want to maintain? Think about it. I have never done this before but I just need to use that verse we wrote about recently. It is from Proverbs (which is like wise sayings) and it tells us the prudent (or wise) person will see danger and take refuge. The simple (inexperienced) person will see the danger and keep right on going.

Let me tell you. I grabbed that wire once and once was enough. The only thing that would have been better was if I would have walked to the shed and got the screwdriver. It wasn’t that far. But, I thought I would be the exception. I thought I could pull it off…no pun intended…and I was wrong. I.Was.Wrong. I don’t know if there is anything in your life right now that is a bad idea or maybe you’re making plans. Take some advice from a former “wire grabber.” Don’t. Just do the right thing and you won’t regret it. Oh, and if you don’t, there is a God who loves and cares for you. And if you ask, He will help. He’s got this.