Posted in Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Humpty Dumpty and Me

I am the Way, the Truth and the Life and no one comes to the Father but by Me.” John 14:6

Some things never change. As we were growing up, we all learned various nursery rhymes and fairy tales.  Some were funny, some serious, and some a little bizarre.  One of my favorites was Humpty Dumpty.   Why?  I think because his story could have easily been our story—after all, we’ve all fallen off a wall at one time or another. I love the story too because what didn’t happen for old Humpty Dumpty, can happen for us.

If there had been a headline that day it might have read something like this, “Local Egg Takes a Tumble.” The story would begin with, “Apparently a well-known and respected egg, Humpty Dumpty, decided to take a rest on top of a wall just outside of town. While sitting there he lost his balance, fell off the wall and was shattered into several pieces. Fortunately for Mr. Dumpty there were witnesses who immediately called 911. Paramedics, along with representatives from the local government, were quickly on the scene. It is reported that local clergy were also on scene, though they didn’t stay long. Unfortunately, no one was unable to put Mr. Dumpty back together again.”

What a sad tale! There he lay–his life in pieces–kinda like a lot of folks today. You would have thought the local citizenry, government, and churches would have been sympathetic but no. First, some questioned why an egg was on the wall in the first place. After all, given his rounded bottom he was certainly a high risk. Second, he was in a fragile state–in fact, he lived in a fragile state. Others blamed the builders of the wall. If the wall had only been six inches high, he wouldn’t have suffered such massive fractures. Others blamed the weather service because they didn’t put out a high wind warning that day for eggs on walls. And the church–well, they said a respectable egg should have been in church, for it was a Sunday.

Well on and on it went, and in the end–Mr. Dumpty was still broken. You know, some things never change. When sin entered the world Adam blamed God, (God because He gave Adam the woman & Eve because she gave him the fruit), Eve blamed the snake, and the snake? Well, he just smiled. It wasn’t a time for finger pointing then, nor is it now.  For all around us are Humpty Dumptys…broken lives in a broken world.

But then, along comes God. God made the very first promise of a Rescuer, a Redeemer, and a Savior way back in Genesis 3. One day the Redeemer would come and provide the cure for sin–His own death on a Roman cross–and then come back to life thus defeating death forever. And the snake well, he would be cast into a very hot fire for a very long time.

You see, I am so glad that God is more interested in redemption than blaming. He is still inviting people, all people to come home. Scared people, sick people, broken people, mean people, and nice people–all get the same invitation–come home. And the path is always the same. Jesus said in John 14:6 “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life and no one comes to the Father but by Me.” It’s not religion, it’s not good works, and it’s not winning by out-blaming the person next to you. It is grace.

The world could use a little good news don’t you think? So today why not share some? When you see the next scared person, the next broken person, the next difficult person (and it might be in the mirror), just assure them that God loves them and that regardless of their past they can come home. Tell them to rest in Him. Why? He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, life, Scripture, Southern born, wisdom

“Curse God– And Die”

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and discipline.” Proverbs 1:7

Rule number one—it is never a good time to curse God.  Tonight, as I sat out by a fire crackling in our outdoor fireplace, my neighbors were teaching their young son how to ride a bike.  He is a quite the young man and he did well.  Judy went over to help encourage him.  There were cheers and yells as he took off and rode maybe fifty yards or more before he “gently” crashed in the grass.  It all took me back almost sixty years.

I was about seven years old.  I’m thinking that I had already mastered the bike riding thing, though I can’t be certain.  For one reason or another, I decided I wanted to ride my brother’s 26 inch Schwinn bicycle.  Now, if in fact I had already learned to ride a bike and this was just a new challenge—then that’s pretty cool.  If I hadn’t mastered riding any bike—well, then this was a recipe for disaster.  The bike was obviously way too big for me, but I was determined.

We had a road that ran in front of our house and that was where I was going to attempt this daring feat.  Unlike my little neighbor next door, mom and dad weren’t there nor were any of my brothers and sisters.  It was just me—and God.  So, the best I could, I straddled the mammoth bicycle and promptly fell over.  I got just a little mad.  I tried it once again and this time the bike rolled forward a few feet and once again—it fell over—on me.  I got just a little madder.  By now I am muttering to myself.  I’m sure it included “stupid bike.”

The third or fourth try, by now I had lost count, resulted in just another in a series of crashes.  The frustration and anger finally boiled out.  I shook my fist at God and yelled something like, “God, why won’t you help me.”  What followed next is blurred in my memory, but I am pretty sure it came out something like, “God, I hate you.”  It was spoken—it was shouted—hurled at the God of the universe.  As far as I know it was the only time I ever cursed God.  Somehow, in my mind, all of this was God’s fault.  It didn’t matter that the bike was way too big for me or that I lacked the experience to ride such a large bike.  All that mattered was in my mind God had intentionally let me down—literally—at least four times.

It was about then that I heard a voice.  It wasn’t God, but that probably would have been appropriate since I had just major offended him.  It was a female voice.  At first I thought it might have been Mrs. Job.  If you remember the story she told her husband, “Why don’t you just curse God and die.”  But it wasn’t Mrs. Job.  No, it was Mrs. Taylor—Mrs. Alston Taylor to be exact and I was about to die. From behind the hedge that encircled our front yard came, “Dewayne Taylor, I heard that.  Don’t you ever talk to God like that again.”  When mama called you by your first and last name at the same time—you knew you were in trouble.  When she was talking about disrespecting God—you knew you were in double trouble—with her and with God.  I was in deep weeds.

Well, once again the end of the story fades from memory.  I am sure it didn’t involve me winning the war with the bike.  I am pretty sure that there was more than a verbal rebuke from mama.  I am certain that I learned a big lesson about God that day.  The lesson is that God demands and deserves our respect—whether we are seven or seventy.  The Bible teaches us “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and discipline.” The fear that the Bible talks about is not the kind of fear when you think God is about to zap you—even if you deserve it.  No, it is talking about respect. God is worthy of our respect—He is deserving of our respect. Period.

The verse goes on to say that a foolish person despises wisdom and discipline. Another verse I’ve grown fond of is Psalm 14:1. It says, “The fool says in his heart, “There is no God.”  I mean, I think it is pretty foolish to write God off, but there is something more here.  The words, “there is” were added by the English translators to make the verse flow a little smoother.  The verse in the Hebrew literally says, “The fool says in his heart, No, God.”  Whoa.  It is a bad idea to tell mama no, but it is really, a bad idea to tell God no.  We need to write that one down.

When I told Judy what I was going to write about today, she asked, “So what did God have to do with you and the bike?”  That’s a great question.  But you know and I know we blame God for just about everything we don’t like—including when we fall off a bike, even one we had no business trying to ride. So, let’s learn a big lesson from seven year old Dewayne.  One, don’t try something that is clearly a recipe for disaster. I mean trying new and adventurous things is awesome—but keep them in reason.  And, never, and I mean never—curse God—especially if your mama is anywhere around.  Just kidding.  That is never a good idea.  After my bike deal—maybe after your bike deal, when we are worn out and worn down, let’s pause and take a rest—in Him.  And then let’s stop muttering and start whispering, “He’s got this.” He always does—in His way and in His time.