brother – Grits with Grace

Family, life, marriage, Scripture, Southern born

Forgetting the Most Important

Posted on April 25, 2025April 18, 2025 by Dewayne Taylor

“Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us.” Philippians 3:13b-14

I forgot the most important thing. It was the fall of 1976. My wife Judy and I were newlyweds and life was good. Oh, and for the record…smile…here we are almost 49 years later, and life is well…good. Ok…back to 1976. I got a call from my oldest brother Reggie who asked if I wanted to go squirrel hunting and could I find a place for us to go. I told him sure and a good friend who had a good place to go squirrel hunting said sure too. So, we picked a Saturday and set a time.

Since the really good place was east of Valdosta where Judy and I lived and since he lived in Jacksonville, we agreed to meet at the hunting place. So, I left early and he, having to drive even further, left earlier and at the appointed hour, we both arrived. I love it when a plan comes together. The sun was just about to say good morning when we got out of our cars. It turns out squirrels are early risers so the best time for hunting is early, and we were early. I love it when a plan comes together.

After a “good morning” and “how are you doing”, we both went to our cars to get our weapons. I recently learned from a friend that guns are not called guns they are either firearms or weapons. The Navy does the same thing with boats and ships. Anyway, as I got to my car and popped the trunk, I reached in to get my gun, weapon or firearm and…wait for it…it wasn’t there. At first I thought in the dim light of dim I just wasn’t seeing it so I prodded and poked around and guess what? The hunter had forgotten the most important thing…his gun, weapon or firearm.

I was so embarrassed. My brother was one of those African safari kind of hunters. He had his hunting vest, his gun, weapon or firearm, a knife and on and on. He looked the part and there I stood with no gun, weapon, or firearm. I didn’t even have a knife. So I told him apparently in the rush to be on time I had left the most important thing behind. We groaned, we moaned and then we laughed. After all, it was funny. So, with two hunters and one gun, weapon or firearm, off we went into the woods. And all morning, I followed quietly behind my brother as he shot squirrels and I watched.

You might be wondering exactly how does a guy who is going hunting forget the tool of the trade…the gun, weapon or firearm. Well, the best I can figure the answer probably has to do with priorities. You see, I can only imagine that I was running a little late that morning and at the moment being on time (which for the record is important) caused me to rush and leave my gun, weapon or firearm behind. In other words, the important took the place of the most important…the urgent overrode the most urgent. And, I have the feeling, it happens way too often.

All of us have things that are important and most of us have a most important thing. Paul, the guy who wrote a bunch of the New Testament said that there was one thing he did. In other words,…this one is important, and do you know what it was? Forgetting the past and looking to the future. Now that is a good one. You see, he knew he had a past worth forgetting and a future worth grabbing ahold of and that was what made it important.

So, what is it in your life that you need to bump up to the top? Chances are it can’t be bought at a store or rented from Rent One. Chances are it involves those that you love the most and the ones who love you most. Don’t wait to figure this one out. Time is ticking by and there is not a minute to lose. If you find yourself at a loss, well, there is someone just waiting to help. He is really good at lending clarity for our priorities if we ask. Too some He is just God but to others He is Dearest Daddy. Regardless, He loves you and is waiting to help you. No doubt about it…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

Baits, Hooks, and Bill

Posted on March 1, 2024February 28, 2024 by Dewayne Taylor

A friend is always loyal, and a brother is born to help in time of need.” Proverbs 17:17

His name was Bill, and he was an investor—in people. When Judy and I landed in Warrensburg, Missouri via God, and the Air Force we began attending First Baptist Church. For us, God and the church thing was an all-in deal so soon we were singing in the choir, attending church, and going to Sunday School. Our Bible Study teachers were Bill and Edith Hensley, and they were a class act. The time we spend in their class was rich in every way imaginable. We build friendships and did life together. It seemed that whether you were in the Air Force like I was or a professor at the local university or a lawyer, it just didn’t matter. We were pilgrims journeying with each other and with Jesus and it was good.

Bill was a lawyer by trade and a disciple-maker by faith. He believed in Jesus, believed the Bible, and believed in people—including me. I’m not sure how it happened but he kinda adopted me and began investing in me by teaching me about fishing, hunting, and growing in my faith. He loved to fish. He would often call the house and say, “What time is it?” Now it might be time to wash the car or time to mow the grass, but I knew what the answer was. “It’s time to go fishing” I would reply and in about 30 minutes I would be in his pickup truck heading to some pond to see if we could catch a bass or two.

That was the case one late summer evening. We had the boat out in a small pond. Things had been slow, and the sun was just about to call it a day. Bill suggested that I make a cast or two more toward the shore. He pointed out a log that just broke the surface about three feet from land. I gave the rod a swing and amazingly that ole hula-popper landed right up next to that log. A hula-popper is a soft lure that sounds just like a wounded frog when you pull up on the rod. I pulled up on the rod and heard the familiar gurgling sound. Nothing happened.

I gave it another tug and two things happened. First there was a small splashing sound and second the lure stopped dead in the water. At first, I thought I had snagged the log but I soon realized I had hooked a pretty good size bass. Now since it was late summer the water was a bit cool so there wasn’t this epic battle—you know, man against whale. Instead, it was like reeling in a big piece of wood. Of course, there was a tug here or there but whatever was on the other end of the rod wasn’t up for much of a fight.

Before long the fish was beside the boat and Bill got the net and bought him on board. It turned out to be a good-sized fish. It was a 6.5-pound largemouth bass. I couldn’t believe it, Bill couldn’t believe it and I am pretty sure the bass couldn’t believe it either. Well, we snapped a couple of pictures and headed for shore with the bass safely in the fish well. I asked Bill if I should have him mounted but he said no because I was sure to catch a bigger one someday in the future. Well, I haven’t and honestly, I believe he knew (because I didn’t know) my Air Force salary couldn’t handle the cost.

Bill and I enjoyed many more fishing trips before I finally moved out of the area and over into Southern Illinois. I slowly lost touch with Bill and Edith and now they are both in heaven. I am sure they heard, “well done.” I can only imagine how many lives they touched. I do know that night I learned a couple of good lessons.

The first lesson came thanks to that old bass. I wonder how many “almost” nights he had laid up by that log. You don’t get to be 6.5 pounds in a few nights or by making bad decisions. So many a night there he lay and each of those nights he was wise enough to say no when a fisherman came by with a tempting bait. For some reason that night was different. It wasn’t that I was an expert, and it wasn’t that the bait seemed that real. More than likely he just let his guard down and bit the bait. That night at the cost of his life he learned a valuable lesson. As Bob Goff puts it, “It is always better to resist the bait than struggle on the hook.” Now that is good advice. So, in these days that take way too much energy just to do life, don’t get too lax and make a really bad decision. Resist the bait.

The other lesson was from Bill…the man who invested his time, his wisdom and even some of his resources in a young Air Force sergeant. Bill was simply a good man who loved Jesus. He was busy but he wasn’t too busy to pour his life into mine. The Bible says, “A friend is always loyal, and a brother is born to help in time of need.” Bill was that to me and I know that I am a better person for knowing him.

In days like these when it seems the chief topic is survival don’t get so self-absorbed that you can’t invest in the folks in your world. There are plenty of people like me who need someone a little wiser to speak into their lives. Why not be that voice? That voice may be whispering, “Don’t take the bait” or it might be encouraging someone to trust in the One who is worthy…to trust and rest in the God who made it all. I think Bill was one of the ones who spoke into my life and helped me believe that I could trust God because, “He’s got this.” Thanks, Bill.

Bro. Dewayne

Christmas, Family, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, life, loving others, priorities, Scripture, thankful, travel, wisdom

The Rest of the Story

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

When it is in your power, don’t withhold good from the one to whom it belongs.” Proverbs 3:27

And now you know the rest of the story. You might remember that line from Paul Harvey who used to tell some incredible stories from real life. He would tell the part that was known and then tell the part of the story that was not. He would always end with, “And now you know the rest of the story.” Well, today I want to tell you the rest of the story.

In the days right before last Christmas, I wrote a Grits story about my storied Christmas childhood. It was almost magical. Each year it seemed that Mama and Daddy pulled it all together, and that always meant sacrifice, and gave us a Christmas beyond our dreams. I cannot recall one Christmas that wasn’t incredible. I’ve heard stories from the generation that endured the Great Depression and they would speak of no Christmas or maybe just an apple or orange. My Daddy and Mama were part of that generation and I wonder if that is why they were so generous to us?

Well, in that story I talked about my Daddy’s old 410 shotgun. Every Christmas morning, long before sunrise, he or one of my older brothers would go on the back porch or the breezeway and shoot the old 410. It was like firing the pistol at a horse race. We knew it was time to race into the room to see what Santa had brought. I mentioned in the story that I wasn’t sure who had the gun—this priceless family heirloom. I knew it was somewhere but where?

While I had four brothers, five including me, there are only two of us left. We are the bookends—he the oldest (soon to be 84) and me the youngest (a long way from 84). Christmas night I received a message from my brother. He wrote that he had read my story about Daddy’s old 410 and that I had mentioned that I didn’t know what had happened to it. He shared with me that he had the gun. Shortly after our Daddy died in 1974 it came into his possession and he had it ever since. What he wrote next made the Christmas of 2020 one for the books.

My brother said, “Dewayne, I want you to have Daddy’s old 410.”

My brother said, “Dewayne, I want you to have Daddy’s old 410.” I couldn’t believe it, so I read it again and I had indeed read the message correctly. Tears instantly began streaming down my cheek as I shared the text with my wife, Judy. He said he had already talked to his son who was helping with his affairs and let him know his desire to pass it to me. Well, Judy and I had already made plans to go to Cookeville, Tennessee right after Christmas so I told her that we needed to head to Jacksonville when we were done there so I could go and pick up the gun…and we did.

We drove hundreds of miles and a whole lot of hours to go get “the old 410.” I couldn’t see the brother who had blessed me due to COVID, as he and his wife life in an assisted living home. I did get to sit and visit with his son who is only six years younger than me. The gun (not a gun but THE gun) and that visit made every mile and every hour worthwhile. If I am still alive when my brother passes, I will probably have the opportunity to share at his service. I already am extremely thankful for him—his fingerprints are all over my life. But that day I will share this story and how his thoughtfulness made the Christmas of 2020 one I will never forget.

The old 410 sits right to my left as I write this. I showed it to my oldest grandson and his dad. We always spend Christmas Eve night with them. I smiled from ear to ear when my son-in-law leaned over and said, “Papa, you will have to bring the old 410 to our house next year so we can shoot it off Christmas morning.” That sounds like a grand idea and if the Lord is willing that is exactly what we will do.

The Bible says that we shouldn’t withhold good from a person when it is within our power to grant it. I am so grateful my brother didn’t wait. He could have. He could have passed it to someone else, but instead he chose his baby brother who just happened to write a story. Me, my Daddy, my uncle and each of my brothers have hunted with this gun—it is a beautiful piece of our family legacy. It is now one of my most cherished possessions.

So, let’s watch for opportunities to bless someone when it is within our power. I know Jesus was really good at that and if we are Jesus followers, well, we should follow His lead. I wonder if the Whisperer whispered in my brother’s ear and he just listened. I wouldn’t be surprised—he and Jesus are pretty tight. And when it is our turn to be kind, well, don’t worry. He will whisper to you too, and rest assured He will give you the wisdom and ability you need. He’s got this.

Family, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture

My Name is Sue

Posted on June 29, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.” Proverbs 17:17

Johnny Cash sang it. “My name is Sue…now you’re going to die.” Well, his name wasn’t Sue but it was Francis. Like Sue…it was a somewhat unusual name for a man and Francis was an unusual guy. I met Francis when I went to pastor at the LaMonte Baptist Church. The church had three deacons and they were named Leo, Francis, and Floyd. All three of them were special guys and I grew to love each one of them for who they were. I was a very young, inexperienced pastor. I was new at the pastoring thing. So new, in fact, that when I mowed my grass at the parsonage, across the street from the church, I would wear dress pants. I wasn’t sure if pastors were allowed to wear jeans so close to the church. They can.

So, even back in 1984, Judy loved flowers and the parsonage was woefully short in that department. In fact, I’m not sure there were any flowers in the entire yard. Well, one day Judy declared that she wanted a flower bed. She began to actually plan the “where’s and how’s” of the flower bed. If it would have been me, I would have grabbed some flowers, dug a hole, stuffed them in, and added dirt. Good luck. Not Judy. She decided that the flower bed should go along the front of the house and that it need to be raised. That means we needed to find some timbers to build up the height of the bed. Again, after a little thought, she decided that railroad ties would do the job.

Somehow, I casually mentioned to Francis that Judy wanted a flower bed. Now Francis was the “go-to guy” when it came to things like the parsonage. He had already led the charge in installing a brick flue so we could have a wood burner so he was the natural choice for the flower bed. I said, “Francis, Judy would like to have some railroad ties for her new flower bed”. Francis didn’t miss a beat. He said, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at five.”

Well, sure as shooting, the next day at five, Francis pulled up in his big ole dually, white Dodge pickup truck. You know there are pickup trucks too pretty to get dirty and then there are real pickup trucks. Francis had a real pickup truck. I climbed inside and we headed toward Sedalia the largest town nearby. I figured we were heading to the hardware store there to purchase some ties. I was wrong. You see, there was a railroad that ran parallel to the main highway. We went down the road a ways and then…Francis turned.

Yup, he turned on a small road and then immediately took a right. We had arrived at the railroad tie store only it wasn’t a store…it was the factory. I found myself in railroad tie heaven. You see, the railroad company had recently replaced their ties and the old ones were strewn all down the rails. As far as you could see there were railroad ties. I was just amazed. I should have been afraid.

Francis said, “Preacher, how many ties do you think you will need?” Well, I told him I thought ten or twelve would be enough.” So we started going along the tracks and selecting the best ones for the flower bed. Just like a carpenter would choose the best 2×4’s at the lumber yard, we picked the best ties. This was just awesome. And then it happened. I heard the sound of distant train whistle.

Now I didn’t think a thing about it. I always was a bit gullible and way too trusting. I had just assumed that Francis had called the local railroad office, told them the church needed a few of their old ties and got permission to get some. I was wrong. I heard the whistle the second time and it was decidedly closer. I noticed that Francis had picked up the pace…he was definitely moving a little faster. I still didn’t think a thing. I just assumed he didn’t want to be that close to the tracks when the train went by. Well, that was kinda true.

The whistle blew again and this time it must have been about a mile down the tracks and Francis said it, “Preacher, we gotta go.” I did sense a bit of urgency in his voice but I kinda thought it was a safety thing. It turned out it was a bit more than that. As we got back in his truck I said, “Francis, what’s the hurry?” I was thinking we could just move the truck further away from the tracks and we could even wave at the crew as they went by. “Preacher, you don’t think they are giving us these ties, do you?” Wait. What?

Yup…I just discovered that we were stealing ties from the railroad. It wasn’t a matter of safety it was a matter of not going to jail. So, Francis cranked the engine and mashed the gas and off we went just before the train came by. In the back of the truck were a bunch of railroad ties and in the front were two guys. One was a preacher, one was a deacon and both of them were guilty as sin. One knew all about it and the other was just learning but both were tie stealing criminals. Francis was smiling and I was wondering if I was going to jail. But somehow it all seemed like a great adventure.

Well, we got back to the parsonage and we built the flower bed. Francis helped with that too. Years later when I would return to the church to preach, share at a funeral or maybe just drive through town, I would look and see the ties. I didn’t remember the sin (I’m sure I confessed it. God had forgotten it and I figure I should too.) No, I remembered a crusty old deacon, but more than that, a friend who wanted to help. His way wasn’t ethical but all these years later, his willingness, his own brand of love is still lodged in my heart. The Book says, “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.” You know there are fancy friends, and rich friends and maybe even friends in positions of power. And then there are the Francis kind of friends. Of course if you’re gonna steal railroad ties, you definitely need the Jesus kind of friend. As a matter of fact, He says, “go steal no more” in Ephesians 4:28, and I didn’t. His specialty is forgiving when you mess up and He’s the best friend of all. He’s the kind of friend that wouldn’t have frowned or pretend He didn’t know you when He saw you in Walmart. No, He’s the stay by your side friend. Through thick or thin, jail or not, He would say, “Don’t worry…just rest in Me. I’ve got this.” Now that’s my kind of friend.