anger – Grits with Grace

fear, gratitude, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

Intentional Kindness

Posted on May 23, 2025May 16, 2025 by Dewayne Taylor

“The Lord is righteous in everything He does; He is filled with kindness.” Psalm 145:17

I almost missed it. A long time ago and in a galaxy far, far away I wrote a Grits story about my ongoing “concern” with sticking a contact in my eye. If you remember, and I realize you probably don’t, I only wear one contact and it makes it possible for me to read without having to wear readers. It’s quite amazing how the brain somehow makes it work. Anyway, the only problem is that I just don’t do very well sticking my finger in or close to my eye. It took me just about a year to figure out how to do it and I still have some anxiety each time I do it. I’ve gotten better…but.

Well, one morning was one of those “buts.” I have a ritual that I go through each and every morning to prepare for sticking this thing in my eye. I put on my readers and get the juice that I use to wet the contact and my fingers. The contacts come in a stick of five and I always, and I mean always, break a contact off the left side. Don’t ask me why. On that morning, I got the juice, glasses and contact all set up for the big event. I opened the contact, wet my fingers, put the contact on my finger and prepared to stick it in. It went south.

As I put it in I could tell something was wrong and the something was wherever the contact was, it wasn’t where it should have been. That could only mean it was lost somewhere—either in my eye or on the sink. Well, it wasn’t on the sink which meant—I was in deep weeds. So, I got angry. I’m not proud of it but I did. I was running late and didn’t have time to worry about this catastrophe. My eye doctor had retired so she couldn’t rescue me and as hard as Judy and I had tried in times past…our success rate was pretty low. So I just told God, out loud, that I didn’t have time for this. I threw the contact holder thing in the trash and got in the shower…still mad.

Well, I have this test I do to see if my contact is in or out. When I tried to see at the sink, it obviously was not in the right place in my eye. So, I tried again in the shower and…I could see. I looked again and again, very obviously the contact had found its way home to the center of my eye. Now it wasn’t totally happy, but it was where it belonged. After my shower, I went ahead and got the contact out, yay and put in a fresh one that went in perfectly. I was amazed and very grateful. There is no doubt that my Dearest Daddy had once again acted on my behalf.

I guess, in the loosest of terms you could say that my cry of anger and anguish was a prayer, “God, I don’t need this right now.” And in His grace, He agreed. There might be a time when it would have stayed lost but today, He acted on my behalf and took care of the problem. You probably ought to know the kind of contact I wear is changed daily and it is very flimsy and when it gets lost—it stays lost. I cannot think of one time when it found its own way home…that is…except on that special day.

What He did was just so kind. His Word says, “The Lord is righteous in everything He does; He is filled with kindness.” All I can say is, “Amen.” As I was driving home for lunch, I decided that I hadn’t celebrated the faithfulness of my Dearest Daddy in a big enough way. This was a big deal. I needed to pause and thank Him again. It was the right thing to do.

I couldn’t think of a better way to say thank you then to write about it in Grits. As I stared at my computer screen, and it is crystal clear, I was reminded that I serve a God who can handle the big things and the not so big things. I was reminded that I serve a God that hears even a prayer sputtered and uttered in frustration and, yes, anger. I serve a God who cares enough to whisper a sweet, short answer to those prayers, “Don’t worry son, I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Family, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Stinking Rock

Posted on May 30, 2023May 29, 2023 by Dewayne Taylor

The Lord God is my strength, and He has made my feet like hinds’ feet, and makes me walk on my high places.” Habakkuk 3:19

Ok…it just hurt. I grew up down South and there and especially then things were just a bit different. Back in those days before Nintendo and Game Boys, we played…I mean we just played. Even though we had television, and yes, it was black and white, it was rarely on…especially during the day. When school was over for the day, we would go outside and run the neighborhood and…the woods.

We lived in a small country neighborhood that was surrounded by woods. We played army, built forts, and played every game you could imagine. We had a large Chinaberry tree in our backyard, and we would load our pockets with the small berries and then chase one another trying our best to “ping” someone with the berries. As you can imagine we ran…a lot. And the best running shoes then were no shoes at all. We ran and played barefoot most of the time. There were times of regret, like when we would stub our toe on a big old pine root, but most of the time we did just fine. Of course, all that “barefoot-ness” toughened our feet up till the soles were leather tough.

Well, things change, and we all grew up and started wearing shoes. With the shoes, we lost our toughness but not our love to occasionally go barefoot. There’s still just something about the feel of grass and soft sand on the bottom of your foot. Yup…what good memories…that is until I stepped on a stupid rock. It all started when I went outside early in the morning, as the sun was still yawning, to have a cup of coffee with Judy. Of course, I wasn’t wearing shoes. We have a paved driveway and patio so no deal…right? Not so fast.

I walked out to the patio, visited for a while, and then decided it was time to head back into the house to get ready for the day. Our patio is a foot or so higher than our driveway and we have a small step there to make things easier. So, I stepped down onto the step and then on down to the driveway. Not thinking, nor thinking to look, right where I stepped was a nice, small rock. Now this wasn’t the smooth stone kind of rock but the kind that you find in an unpaved alley. Anyway, I stepped, and stepped hard and landed right on that stinking rock. Ouch.

As things would happen, it was in the middle of my heel, and it just hurt. I muttered something about stupid rocks, picked the rock up and chucked it back into the alley where it belonged. It really was a “no harm, no foul” deal. I mean, it wasn’t like it hurt all day and it wasn’t like I had to go to the doctor, but for those few moments…it just hurt and for those few moments…I was mad at the rock. Mad.At.The.Rock.

Wait…later I decided there was something wrong with that. I am sure that rock didn’t wake up that morning (do rocks wakeup?) and decide to be in the exact wrong spot. In fact, I am sure the rock had nothing to do with it at all. I am sure that I am the one who chose not to wear shoes that morning, who didn’t look to see if there was a rock in the way, and who wasted my emotional energy by getting mad at a rock. It sounds like this one is on me.

The bottom line is when you do life, you will occasionally step on a rock, and it may cause some pain. But like the Disney song says, maybe we should just, “let it go.” The Bible gives us some even greater counsel. It says that we are to remember that God is our strength, and we should ask Him to guide our feet as sure as a mountain deer. In other words,…to help us watch where we step…whether it is off our patio or into a questionable decision.

Well, I know, and you know it wasn’t the rock’s fault that day and really, in the scope of things, it wasn’t mine either. It was just one of those things. Oh, and this morning, I went out barefoot again but before I stepped off the patio, I looked and that means, I may have learned and that is always valuable. So be sure and look before you step and remember, even if things don’t go exactly like you plan today…He’s still got this. Bro. Dewayne

Oh wait…I thought that was the end of the story, but it wasn’t. So, the same day I wrote this, at lunch I went home to eat and kicked my shoes off. As I was walking across the kitchen floor, I stepped on a…get ready…rock. Yup, right there in the kitchen. I guess you just never know.

Family, life, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Barefoot

Posted on May 31, 2022May 30, 2022 by Dewayne Taylor

The Lord God is my strength, and He has made my feet like hinds’ feet, and makes me walk on my high places.” Habakkuk 3:19

We lived in a small country neighborhood that was surrounded by brushy woods. We played army, built forts, and played every game you could imagine. We had a large Chinaberry tree in our backyard, and we would load our pockets with the small berries and then chase one another trying our best to “ping” someone with the berries. As you can imagine we ran…a lot. And the best running shoes then were no shoes at all. We ran and played barefoot most of the time. There were times of regret, like when we would stub our toe on a big old pine root, but most of the time we did just fine. Of course, all that “barefoot-ness” toughened our feet up till the soles were leather tough.

Well, things change, and we all grew up and started wearing shoes. With the shoes, we lost our toughness but not our love to occasionally go barefoot. There’s still just something about the feel of grass and soft sand on the bottom of your foot. Yup…what good memories…that is until I stepped on a stupid rock. It all started when I went outside early in the morning, as in the sun was still yawning, to have a cup of coffee with Judy. Of course, I wasn’t wearing shoes. We have a paved driveway and patio so no deal…right? Not so fast.

I walked out to the patio, visited awhile, and then decided it was time to head back into the house to get ready for the day. Our patio is a foot or so higher than our driveway and we have a small step there to make things easier. So, I stepped down onto the step and then on down to the driveway. Not thinking, nor thinking to look, right where I stepped was a nice, small rock. Now this wasn’t the smooth stone kind of rock but the kind that you find in an unpaved alley. Anyway, I stepped, and stepped hard and landed right on that stinking rock. Ouch.

As things would happen, it was in the middle of my heel, and it just hurt. I muttered something about stupid rocks, picked the rock up and chucked it back in the alley where it belonged. It really was a “no harm, no foul” deal. I mean, it wasn’t like it hurt all day and it wasn’t like I had to go to the doctor, but for those few moments…it just hurt and for those few moments…I was mad at the rock. Mad.At.The.Rock.

The bottom line is when you do life, you will occasionally step on a rock and it may cause some pain. But like the Disney song says, maybe we should just, “let it go.” The Bible gives us some even greater counsel. It says that we are to remember that God is our strength, and we should ask Him to guide our feet as sure as a mountain deer. In other words…to help us watch where we step…whether it is off our patio or into a questionable decision.

Family, life, Scripture, Southern born

Five-Eight or Seven…Just About Right

Posted on June 10, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

Be angry and do not sin. Don’t let the sun go down on your anger, and don’t give the devil an opportunity.” Ephesians 4:26

I think I have figured it out. From the time I could remember my mom always told me, “Dewayne, I think you are going to be six feet tall when you grow up.” I believe she based that on the fact that I kinda looked like my brother Joe and he was somewhere near that. Anyway, I grew up with the expectation that I would, well, grow up. Somewhere something got lost in the translation.

The bottom line is for all of my life I have been “height challenged”. Now, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been but it was apparent early on that mom had misjudged the gene pool. Unless a miracle was on the horizon the height expectations needed to be lowered…a lot. By the time I was in the eight grade I was still about five-six. I had managed to lose some of my pudginess but I just came up short (pun intended) on the height deal.

When I was in the ninth grade I was at the top of the pecking order grade wise. In Florida ninth grade was still in Junior High. I, we ninth graders were the kings of the campus…even if you were a tad short. Well one day in class the teacher stepped out of the room. A guy I knew, and he might have even been a friend, grabbed my pencil and said he was going to break it. “Don’t do it, man” I said in my deepest, tallest voice. He kept threatening to break it and I kept threatening to break him. He broke it and I exploded.

Now before we go on you need to know I was a pretty compliant kid. I am a conflict avoidance adult and I was a conflict avoidance kid. Something just snapped. I flipped the table over on him, put him in a head hold and proceeded to teach him not to break my pencil. Can someone said, “Stupid?” Well, the teacher walks in, someone breaks up the fight and we get a free trip to the principal’s office. Judgement was swift and right to seat of the problem. Two swats a day for five days administered by the athletic director. He was not five-six.

So for the next five days it was report first thing in the morning to his office, bend over and grab your ankles and two hard swats. Pow—pow. Swift, powerful and man did they hurt. And they worked. I always left with a strong desire to join the Peace Corps. I never got into another fight. Break my pencil? Sure go right ahead. I have a spare. I always wondered what sparked that outburst. I think I know. It was short man syndrome or SMS.

I found out that SMS is “an angry male of below average height who feels it necessary to act out in an attempt to gain respect and recognition from others and compensate for his short stature.” I’m pretty sure that is what happened that day. I was wanting some respect and was willing to act stupid to get it. Did I mention two swats a day for five days? So, that week, about day three and swat number six I got over my syndrome and a chunk of my anger. I was just fine at five-six. Fortunately the Lord gave me a couple of more inches and I ended up at a respectable five-eight. However, I think I am back down to five-seven now. You know, the Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Smile.

I really did learn a valuable lesson that day. You should never, and I mean never, let your anger get the best of you. Anger is not a sin when it is controlled and directed in the right direction. Jesus got angry at the people who were abusing His Father’s house. So the problem isn’t anger—the problem is control—or lack of it. Paul wrote about this when he said, “Be angry and do not sin. Don’t let the sun go down on your anger, and don’t give the devil an opportunity.” Keep your temper tame and don’t let it simmer over night. It’s great for a pork butt but terrible for anger. And every time we don’t, we give Satan the opportunity to win. And, when he wins…we lose. Every time. So, I’ve learned to be happy where I am. I think five-eight or seven is just about right. I’m still taller than Judy and she thinks I’m tall, or at least tallish, dark and handsome. Also, I’m learning not to lose it because I always lose when I do. And, I am learning to trust in Him. If someone breaks my pencil I just let God handle it. It’s much better than visiting the coach every morning for five days. There’s something else. I found out that when I’m not facing the coach in the morning, I rest better…especially in Him. I fall to sleep knowing, “He’s got this.” And He does.