Tag: childhood

Posted in Family, food, friends, gratitude, Holidays, Scripture, thankful, Thanksgiving

Thanks-Giving Living

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “Giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Ephesians 5:20

Everything seemed bigger then.  I liked being a kid.  I know there were times I didn’t, but overall things were pretty cool.  For one thing, there were fewer responsibilities.  There was always someone bigger and more important than me to handle things.  I didn’t worry about where the food came from, who was going to pay the electric bill or what would happen if the wrong person got elected and lived in something called the White House.  My house happened to be white, so my world centered around that white house. Of course, there were only three channels to tell me about the world outside my small world so, yeah, l liked being a kid.

When I was a kid, the holidays were just a big thing and the two at the top of the list were Thanksgiving and Christmas. These were the mammoths of all holidays.  Thanksgiving, of course, came first and was like the kickoff for the Christmas season. Thanksgiving meant that it was ok to start doing Christmas stuff.  Now days that has been assigned to the Fourth of July. Smile.  But anyway, these two special days shared two things that made them special.  They were all about family and they were all about food. Family and food.  They were big then and they are big now.

Of course, big was relative…not relative like my grandmother or my Uncle Hardy…but relative in the sense of perspective.  You see, as a kid, everything was bigger.  A while back I went back to where I was raised. The house, though slightly remodeled, was still there and about the same.  But when I saw it that day, I remember thinking how small it seemed.  I mean it was never big, but it certainly seemed bigger.  The difference wasn’t the house but how I saw it.  Enter Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving was so exciting because it meant that anyone who was related to the Taylor tribe was going to be somewhere together.  Most often it was home…the white house on the corner of Carlton and Wheat. It was a big deal because we had quite a big tribe.  Momma and Daddy had eight kids and they probably would have had more but I think they finally figured out what was causing it.

And then…there was the food.  Momma would cook the biggest turkey we could find…usually right around twenty-five pounds.  There would be dressing, plain and oyster, giblet gravy, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, ambrosia, and a bunch of other stuff.  There would be several kinds of pies including the infamous “minced meat pie.”  Best I could tell that was a pie for the adults because I think it really had meat and only an adult could like that.  Then after the vast spread was spread, we would all gather around the kitchen (we wouldn’t fit around the table) and someone would pray…usually my oldest brother because he was a lay preacher.  And then…we would eat…a lot.

From my kid perspective it was good, and it was fun.  I probably didn’t think much about what giving thanks was all about.  I mean, my big brother talked about being thankful when he was talking to God in the prayer, but really, I probably didn’t get the whole thanksgiving thing…then.  But now, well, I certainly understand it more.  As I grew up and some of that responsibility that my parents bore fell on me, I began to understand.  When I started to realize that things I took for granted didn’t just happen, that they took hard work and a lot of love, well, I started feeling grateful.  The more I understood, the more I appreciated all that my Momma and Daddy did for me as a kid.  They worried so I didn’t have to. They provided so I could have food to eat, a place to sleep, clothes to wear and a life that was…fun.

So, today, I’m going to remember and be thankful.  I’m going to do my best not to grumble about what I don’t have and choose to be grateful for what I do. Today I will pray, and I will thank God for all the blessings He has given to me and my family.  Today I will celebrate that there is food to eat and family to enjoy…just like when I was a kid.  God is good…always has been, always will be.  Paul, the guy who wrote most of the New Testament Bible said, “Giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” I think he was telling us to be sure and celebrate Thanksgiving, not one day, but every day.  Oh, and when you are thanking God for being God be sure and thank Him because, each day and every day, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Grace, heaven, life, school days, Scripture

Short Stories…Big Truths

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in Me, even if he dies, will live.” John 11:25

Short stories with big truths.  It all started on a Saturday morning.  We were a few months into writing stories on Facebook, and then decided to take the next step and build a website where our stories could be more easily accessed.  Many of our friends suggested compiling the stories into a book.  Well, that dream hasn’t happened and may not.  But the website did.  We decided to call it Grits with Grace.  Grits spoke of our Southern heritage and grace of the most powerful thing we have ever experienced.  Next came the tag line, “Short Stories with Big Truths.” Judy staged the picture in our backyard and, well, you probably know the rest.

Short stories with big truths.  Hmmm. That came home one morning as I was walking.  Sometimes, maybe once a week, I take my walk through our local cemetery.  It is rather large and if I make a couple of laps around the outside coupled with a shorter one, I end up with about two miles.  As I have written before, I love this walk because of all the life stories you can find on the headstones.  I take the same route each time…I am a creature of habit.  What I saw this morning I had seen many times before but this morning it spoke to me.

His name was Keith.  I could give you the last name but for privacy I won’t.  He was born on July 3, 1956, just a couple of years after me.  In other words, I was two and a half years old the day he started his life journey. We could have gone to the same school, played on the same ball team—except he was from here and I was from the south.  Anyway, it was the next date that always caught my attention. It was the date that he died.  Keith drew his last breath on May 31, 1964, at the too young age of 7 years, 10 months, and 29 days. I don’t know the cause of his untimely death…only that it was a too short story.  Was it a car accident, a bike accident?  Did he fall while playing?  Perhaps it was one of too many childhood illnesses.  Even polio could be a possibility.  Well, like I said we don’t know.  The only thing we know is that something unexpectedly stepped in and stole his years away.

Short stories.  The cemetery is full of headstones that tell short stories.  Walk a while and you will see that truth played out and that is why I am writing this story.  You see, Keith is a reminder to me, as all the headstones are, of a big truth.  The number of our days is a closely guarded secret of the One who created us.  He, and only He, knows when we will step into eternity.  Death is certainly no respecter of race, color, creed, or economic status.  Death doesn’t care about age.  We only know that one day it will come but don’t let that deflate you or scare you because Jesus took care of death two thousand years ago when He resurrected that first Easter morning.

I’m almost certain that Keith didn’t know he was going to have such a short story, but I hope he knew the One that could make a difference.  I hope he knew Jesus.  I hope you know Jesus.  When Jesus is entered into any equation, well, it changes everything, but especially death.  With Jesus death is not the end but the beginning and no matter how many years we live here—the life on the other side is so much more…so much longer.  Keith teaches us that some stories are short, very short and some stories are long, very long.  Jesus teaches us that it isn’t the length of the story that matters, it is what we do with Him.  He is what matters…not church, not religion, not religious stuff—just Jesus.

I really like what Jesus said in John 11:25—one of the books in the Bible that tells the story of Jesus.  He says, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in Me, even if he dies, will live.” The her is a woman named Martha and her brother had just died with a too short story.  Jesus is just letting her know that death doesn’t have to call the shots because He has.  Short stories…those will always be with us but so will big truths—like the one that says, “I’ve got this” because He does.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in fear, friends, life, prayer, pride, Scripture, sovereignty of God, spiritual battles

Happy New Year

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “God causes all things to work together for the good of those who love Him and who are called according to His purpose.”Romans 8:28

I slowly walked to the edge, paused, and…”. Well, it was a long time ago but most of the picture remains intact.  I was about nine years old, and our church Sunday School decided to have a picnic.  We loaded up on a bus or two and drove to the lake.  It was a natural freshwater lake with a beach and a dock.  And speaking of docks…this was a big one.  It left the shore and went out about a mile…well, it seemed like a mile…remember I was only nine.  In fact, it probably went out about fifty yards or so.  Then it made a 90 degree right turn and went on for another fifty yards.  By any standard it was a long dock.

However, it was what was at the end of the dock that caused me to pause.  There, built into the dock was the “Tower of Terror.”  Now for those of you who are familiar with Disney World you know that is the name for one of their attractions.  You are taken inside a building and end up in the dark (mostly) and then without warning…the floor gives way and you are falling for what seems like forever.  Now all this is speculation and hearsay for me because trust me I would never, will never find out personally. No. Not. Nada.  But that day when I was nine, I faced my own “Tower of Terror.”

The tower at the lake that day was probably thirty or forty feet in the air.  You climbed a ladder attached to the tower and at the top was a pretty good-sized platform.  This was where you could stand, look, and gather courage to walk to the edge and jump off.  Well, pushed by peer pressure and goaded by friends, I somehow found myself on the top and they were all saying one thing, “Jump!” Trust me, the last thing that I wanted to do was jump off that perfectly good tower.  I walked slowly to the edge and looked down.  The water seemed to be a zillion yards below me. There were only two options.  First, take the plunge or two, go back down the ladder.  With my heart pounding, with my peers all telling me to jump, I….

I honestly don’t remember what I did. I don’t know if I finally overcame my fear, swallowed my pride and jumped or swallowed my pride and slowly, with great humiliation, went back down the ladder.  Either one at the time felt unbearable and I know one thing even today…fear can paralyze you and fear can cause you to make some pretty crazy decisions.  Most of us personally know the truth in those words.

Well, today we find ourselves at the edge of another kind of platform…and for some, it might look like a “tower of terror.”  We are hours away from a New Year and honestly it can seem quite frightening…especially these days and with these circumstances. Considering all this, what should we do? What can we do?  Well, it seems logical to me that when I face something bigger than me, I need to find something or Someone bigger than the mountain, the obstacle that I am facing.  For me, hands down, that is God.  

There are two truths that I have found in God’s Word that really help me.  Maybe it will help you too.  First, is the sovereignty of God.  That simply means that God is in charge. I love the scripture that reminds me that every day is made by God…He is the owner and therefore the planner. It also means that He is in control…He.Is.In.Control. There is something peaceful in knowing that God is and if He is…well, worry shouldn’t rule us. But it gets better.

Not only does He make every day, He also makes us an incredible promise.  If you are a Bible person you probably know this one.  In the book of Romans, Chapter 8, it says, “God causes all things to work together for the good of those who love Him and who are called according to His purpose.”  Wow.  While that doesn’t mean that everything is good…we know that…it does mean that God can bring good from every circumstance.  What that also means is we have a promise from God that no matter how wonky 2025 may be, He can and will bring something good from it.  Now the truth of that should certainly bring some inner peace into the chaos of our lives.  

So, the bottom line is, “Happy New Year!” The God who makes the day makes the year and the God who makes the year manages the outcome.  Hey, sprinkling a little truth into a murky future can change a lot of things.  Now all of that isn’t a promise of easy but it is a promise of His faithfulness and that no matter what, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

A Downtown Christmas

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “I pray that you, being rooted and firmly established in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the length and width, height and depth of God’s love.” – Ephesians 3:17b-18

Looking back, my childhood Christmases were always special. We didn’t have a lot of extras, but we had enough—and we had each other. Christmas season always felt like a time of magic, starting with the rich traditions that led up to the big day. A few weeks before Christmas, we’d pull the decorations down from the attic and start filling the house with Christmas cheer. I remember a special Santa decoration that hung on our chimney, and the best part? I actually found one exactly like it! These days, he hangs in my office, but during December, you’ll find him glowing proudly in my kitchen, keeping an eye on me all year round to make sure I stay on the nice list.

But one of my absolute favorite Christmas memories? The trips we made downtown to pay our electric bill. Sounds strange, right? What do electric bills and Christmas have to do with each other? Well, with a tight budget, paying the bill on time was a non-negotiable. So, a day or two before it was due, we’d make the trip to downtown Jacksonville to drop off the payment. Nothing glamorous, but it was a part of the season. And here’s the twist—it was actually really special.

You see, back in those days, the department stores in downtown Jacksonville would go all out with their Christmas window displays. We’re talking moving figures, reindeer that looked like they were about to take flight, and kids skating on a magical, frosty lake. It was a full-blown Christmas wonderland—magical in a way that only the holidays can be. Especially as a kid, I could feel the Christmas spirit in those windows.

Now, here’s the kicker: If we hadn’t had that electric bill to pay, we probably wouldn’t have taken that little trip downtown at all. And that, my friends, feels like a perfect example of how God works. Sometimes, He leads us to unexpected places, through things we might not understand at the time, but they turn out to be exactly what we needed. We just don’t always see it in the moment.

God has this way of using even the little bumps in the road to bring something good into our lives. He works in mysterious ways, sometimes out front, sometimes behind the scenes. We don’t always recognize it at first, but when we do, we’re often amazed at how He’s been shaping our lives all along. If we can be patient and trust in His timing, we start to see how those seemingly random things in life were part of His bigger plan all along.

And you know what? I think that’s one of the best things about heaven—it’ll be full of surprises. We’ll finally understand all the things God saved us from, the opportunities He put in our path that we just thought were coincidences, and the many ways He’s been at work, even when we didn’t realize it.

Paul, the guy who wrote so much of the New Testament, said it best when he wrote: “I pray that you, being rooted and firmly established in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the length and width, height and depth of God’s love.” Honestly, that’s one prayer we may never fully see answered—His love is just that vast.

So, as we celebrate Christmas, let’s take a moment to really look for the ways God is working in our lives. Some things will leave us filled with gratitude, and others may make us just stop and think, “Wow, He’s got this.”—Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, school days, Scripture, Southern born, spiritual battles, Trials

Sand Spurs from the Past

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

He has removed our sins as far from us as the east is from the west.” Psalm 103:12

It was a voice from my past—and it was singing the blues.  A while back we were in Southwest Florida on vacation, and I tried to keep up with my morning routines.  That included, first and foremost, coffee.  After coffee and a look at the weather came God time.  After God time came Judy time.  After Judy time came—exercise time.  The problem with all these times is they all take time.  Before I knew it, the sun was up, the humidity was up, and the temperature was up.  Regardless, I had to get up and get going.

The first morning we were there I was still learning the lay of the land and wasn’t exactly sure where I should walk.  So, I headed toward the way in and out of our condo property.  This led to the highway and so I took a left and decided to walk on the edge of the road.  It was safe but it was miserable.  There was no shade and soon it was just plain hot—very hot— “why am I doing this” hot.  I was determined to go my 3.6 miles, but I began wondering if this was such a good idea.  After a little while longer I was sure it wasn’t.  But you know how men are—do or die and in this case, death might have been an upgrade.  Ok, I’m exaggerating.

In my misery, I met an old foe.  There was a point when I had to cross a bridge across a channel.  They had built a walkway but to get to the walkway you had to go behind a guardrail through the weeds.  Without breaking stride, I charged on and then I saw them.  Sand spurs.  These were old foes from my childhood.  They are a type of weed and have sharp, spine covered balls of pain at the ends of long stems.  They will grab anything that gets close and if that happens to be your skin…you are done.  If they don’t get you when they attach, they will get you when you try to detach them. Ugh.

Like I said, they were old foes from my childhood.  When I was a kid, we would run barefoot all the time and without fail we would step on them. They would hurt…bad.  Well, this time, even though I tried to avoid them, they found their way onto my shoes and socks, but I didn’t find them till I got back from my walk.  As I was sitting by the pool trying to recover from a 145-heart rate and the 100-degree humidity, I found them. And, just like the old days, they made sure to give me a “stick and an ouch” as I tried to remove them.  Just.Like.The.Old.Days.  Though it was years ago, the whole sand spur scene was painfully fresh.

I find that sand spurs aren’t the only painful thing that loves to bump into our present.  Often, too often, unpleasant memories and regrets sneak back into our lives and cause us pain all over again.  Try as we may, sometimes, it seems they reattach themselves to us and we relive the whole hot mess again.  It could be a similar situation or maybe a repeat performance, but all the pain and remorse come flooding back.  I hate it, you hate it, but how do we avoid it?

Well, I tried to avoid the sand spurs on my walk.  I saw them, I knew they were there, but in my rush, my determination to exercise, I simply didn’t give them the wide berth they deserved.  I should have made it a higher priority. I realized that when I was trying to remove them.  When you sense or when you feel your ugly, painful past creeping into the present, do whatever it takes to change the scenario. Don’t allow yourself to relive the “sand spurs” of past failures. Trust me—they will attach themselves to your present with all their former pain.

There is one more thing that is even more important than that.  Should you find yourself reliving that regret, run straight into the arms of grace.  Remember and relive the forgiveness that came after the failure.  The Bible tells us that God casts our failures as far as the east is from the west.  I love that because it doesn’t say as far as the north is from the south. You see if you go north long enough you will find the south.  But not so with east from the west.  You can travel east forever and never find the west.  And that dear friend, is what God does with our failures and sin if we ask Him for forgiveness and help. It is gone—outta here and that is really good news.

Well, I couldn’t wait to show Judy my sand spurs, not because I liked them but because they reminded me of an important part of my past and the fact that I knew they were not going to be a permanent part of my future.  I may have bumped into them, but I wasn’t going to live with them. And that is a good thing. So, as you are speed walking through life, remember to give your painful past a wide berth and keep Jesus close by your side. You’ll find Him a mobile “rest stop,” there to make every step, every day survivable and “thrive-able.” And never forget, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, school days, Scripture, thankful

God and Graders

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

This is My command—be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9 NLT

It was a boy’s dream come true. One thing I love about being born in the fifties was the world in which we lived. Things were so much slower and simpler.  Television consisted of three channels and the big news was the day we had four.  And hang on, no toys I owned required batteries or had a screen. All I had to do was look around at what was laying around and boom…welcome to toy land. One of my favorites was a piece of chain that quickly became a train. I would drag it through the sand and as the links cut through the sand it and at least through my eight-year-old eyes and mind…it looked like train tracks.

As my wife Judy and I were recently traveling through South Georgia, the land of grits, butter and salt (no sugar, thank you) we saw a road grader doing its grader thing. This magnificent machine  had six large tires and a blade the size of Texas.  With the right operator, they could quickly turn a rutted, dirt road into a silky country highway. Now, and especially back when I was eight, it was a boy’s dream come true.

When I saw the grader that day, my mind flashed back to a time when they were grading the dirt road in front of my house. Later on they would pave it but before that it was dirt and one day the county decided to pave it. This was big excitement for me so I ran out and watched with fascination as the operator carefully and skillfully operated the grader and then something happened.

The man stopped the grader right in front of where I was standing and invited me to join him in the cab. While this probably would never happen now, back then it could and did. He idled down the motor and hollered, “Do you want to ride for a while?” So, with a wave of his hand, I joined him in the cab. He shot the juice to the giant engine and off we went. It was amazing. I may be dreaming but it seemed he even let me steer the massive machine. Too soon, he had to get back to work and I had to come back to reality.  But it was a dream come true.

That was a memory to remember but there is one that is so much bigger than that and that is the time God invited me to come and sit in the cab of life with Him. Just as the grader was changing the local landscape, so God invites us to change the landscape of life and lives. With His hands on the controls, we have the opportunity to allow Him to guide us and we have the privilege of helping others and serving Him. It is a game changer and adds so much meaning and purpose to our lives.

Let me encourage you today to move from the roadside and join your Dearest Daddy in the cab. There is no limit to what He and you can do together. You don’t have to have degrees or zillions in the bank to be used by Him.  All it takes is a willing heart and saying yes to His great adventure for your life. Remember, don’t be afraid to climb on board…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Mother's Day, Mother's Day, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, spring, thankful, Trials

Remembering Momma

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also praises her: Many women have done noble deeds, but you surpass them all!” Proverbs 31:28-29

Well, it’s time. Enter Mother’s Day…a day to celebrate our mothers, our wives and other ladies who have poured their life into our lives, but time can make that harder.  Let me explain. You see, time can be a bane and a blessing. It is difficult to live with but we sure can’t live without it and as we get older, it can begin to fuzz the brain and our memories. Things that at one time were vivid and clear become a midst and sometimes disappear into the fog.

That seems to be true of so many of my childhood memories—my Momma memories. Things that I am sure were so valuable, so definitive at the time, are now simply not there. I am sure that is the case with my memories of my parents as a child. When that happens, I simply fill in the gaps with hints and clues from the things I do remember. As the pieces come together, it quickly becomes obvious that my Momma was one of my anchors and a huge blessing in my life.

As I scan the landscape of my childhood, as I piece the pieces together, I realize that I had a really good childhood, and it was largely because of my parents and in particular, my mother. As the baby of eight, by the time they got to me, two things were obvious: they had it down to a science, and I was pretty spoiled.

Because of our finances, we didn’t get everything we wanted (not by a long shot), but Christmas, birthdays, and usually even ordinary days were special. Momma was often the one who made that happen. She was a stay-at-home, hold the fort down, mom and was always there when I needed her. Perhaps you have heard of a Swiss Army knife.  It is one crazy invention where a simple pocketknife becomes an all-purpose, whatever you need tool. And that describes Momma. Whatever the occasion she was there for us…for me. Well, truth be known, while she didn’t wear a habit like Mother Teresa or a nurse’s uniform like Florence Nightingale or banish a sword like Joan of Arc, in my eyes she was that and more.

I wonder how many times I was sick, and she became Doctor Momma?  On so many occasions I can remember her pulling me into her lap and holding me. On one particular occasion, when I was over five and under ten, I was very sick— fever, nausea, and a young body that felt like it had been beaten.  I know now it was probably the flu and probably contagious and yet there she was in our old rocking chair, at two in the morning, cradling me and holding me.  That was Momma.

Sometimes Momma put on her Leonardo da Vinci hat and showed a designer flare. I can remember as a teenager I had a rather new pair of jeans—ordinary to some—valuable to me. I was horseback riding one day, and the horse cut a corner too sharply and ran me into a pole, ripping my jeans right above the knee. Bummer. My Momma simply cut the legs off the jeans where they were torn, put in some bright red cloth, and sewed them back together. There you go…good as new, and since it was the 70’s, it made a statement. I had a one-of-a-kind pair of jeans.

Two or three times a day Momma always put on her chef’s hat. A couple of years ago I made a thoughtless and inaccurate comment about Momma’s cooking not being “the best in the world.” Can someone say, “Dumb?”  Can someone say, “Really?” No, Momma was a great cook, and my waistline still proves it.  She had the amazing ability to take the ordinary and make it extraordinary. To me, her chicken and dumplings and blackberry dumplings were both legendary.  Oh, and did I mention her fried corn beef hash?  No, Chef Momma was amazing…and we loved her for it.

Yup, my Momma was amazing and the longer I live the more I realize just how blessed I was to have her.  It has been said that men often marry women like their mothers.  Well, that at least helps to explain the amazing wife that God has given me.  In so many ways she too is that wife, that mother, that grandmother that so many wish they had.  I don’t have to wish…Judy is my wish come true. Someone once said that a person who has one good friend in their life is blessed.  Well, without going any further than my home I know I have had two—Momma and my precious wife Judy.  Thank You, Lord…a bunch.

Remember, there is no such thing as perfect Momma’s but a lot of us have been blessed with great ones. At this time of year when we celebrate Mother’s Day, if Momma is still around, be sure and let her know how much you appreciate her.  And if she isn’t…well, be sure and thank the Lord.  And one more thought…be sure and thank your wife, for all she has done. Guys, trust me, we would be lost without them.  Oh, and do remember this, there is a God who loves you more than your Momma ever could or did.  It’s good to know that no matter what…He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, Integrity, life, pride, school days, Scripture, thankful, Trials

The Antlion

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Stay alert! Watch out for your great enemy, the devil. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour.” 1 Peter 5:8

Where I lived growing up, I could go fishing and lion hunting every day. It was such an adventure living at 6008 Carlton Road.  All the people who lived in the new subdivision being built across the street had no idea.  Imagine…lion hunting and fishing every day, any day, and it wasn’t my imagination.  You see, our house, like many older houses in northeast Florida was placed on blocks leaving a couple of feet of space between the house and the ground.  And that space was where lions lived, and fishing happened.

No, I wasn’t hunting the king of the jungle, and my fishing didn’t involve a pole or water…for that matter. Living under our house were the fierce larva of the predatory antlion…and they were just waiting for me to come along and challenge them.  You see the antlion lives in and loves soft sand…just like we had under our house at 6008. They had a tricky way to catch their food.  They would burrow in the sand and make a cone shaped pit and then hide in the bottom.  Ants or other insects would come along, fall into the pit, and the antlion would reach up from beneath the sand and grab them with their long pinchers and…well, it was game over.  Rarely did an insect survive the pit or antlion. And rarely did an antlion escape from Dewayne, the lion hunter.

To catch an antlion, you simply found a spider web, and trust me there were plenty, and twist it into a sort of thread thingy.  You would then attach that to a small stick and then…just go fishing.  I would crawl under the porch (one of my favorite spots) and look for the cone shaped pits of the antlion. After finding a good one—the bigger the pit, the bigger the prey—I would take my stick and ever so gently, and slowly, drag the spider web around the bottom of the pit.  The old antlion would think it was a poor, trapped insect and latch hold of the spider web and I would “reel” him in by raising the stick and out would come the antlion. Now what’s cool is that they would put up a pretty good fight.  Some of these guys were a half-inch long so it was very exciting!

What was kind of funny was that even after I pulled the antlion from out of the sand, he just kept hanging on. I’m not sure if he was just hungry or half blind but rare was the day that he just let go of the spider web.  Now, the story does have a happy ending.  This was strictly a “catch and release” thing. I would study him for a while and let him dangle a while before putting him back in the sand. If you are a regular Grits reader you know not everyone got off so easy. Many a “love bug” and ant suffered very different fates.

I was always amazed how easily these fierce hunters became “the hunted” and fell for the same old trick but then I realized how often we do the same thing.  Every day, or at least it seems that way, we are tempted to do something that just isn’t good for us or wise and yet time and again we fall for it.  Whether it is a food choice, a decision to put something in our brain that doesn’t need to be there, or to say something that is covered with barbs, we simply seem to fall for it time and again. Like I was intentional in my fishing for antlions, the Bible tells us someone, something is intentionally tracking us…hunting for us.

It was Peter (not Pan but the guy in the Bible) who talked about the devil being like a “roaring lion” and his mission is simple…find lunch.  Peter says that he prowls around “seeking someone to devour.”  No, he doesn’t actually eat us, but he does devour our character, our integrity, our legacy, our marriages, our careers, and that is just the short list.  The good news is that there is a lion hunter who wants to be on our side…and His name is Jesus.  Lions can be scary, but fear quickly flees with your Lion Hunter, never loses, and never misses, walks by your side.

So, if you find yourself like the ant who wandered around under my house and slipped into the pit, just know help is nearby.  Whisper a prayer or shout one out and the great Lion Hunter will be there.  He is never far away and always one step ahead of the antlions in our life.  Yup, you can rest assured, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Switches and Sand Spurs

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.” Hebrews 12:11

Well, I suppose it worked. Overall, I’m pretty sure I turned out ok. I’ve only had one speeding ticket, had one accident, and have never spent a night in jail.  Of course, that may have to do with the fact that I am a pastor. That doesn’t mean I’m too good to go to jail, it only means that church people don’t take too kindly to their preacher being arrested and going there.

Recently, I told my oldest sister that the older I get, the more I appreciate my Momma and Daddy.  I’m pretty sure that so many of the things I get right are because of my upbringing and of course, they were responsible for that.  Momma and Daddy shared the discipline part of child rearing.  Momma was more the “go get a switch from the bamboo bush” and Daddy was the more “wait a minute while I get my belt off” kinda guy. But you know, never was their discipline out of balance and more than once…I got off scot-free.

One time I chucked a rock at a car and Daddy promised me a lesson I wouldn’t soon forget.  When we got home, I ran inside and hid under the dining room table. For whatever reason, he chose to extend a boatload of grace and I know two things.  First, I was plenty grateful and second, I never chucked another rock at another car.  Lesson learned.

Every once in a while, Daddy would get more creative.  While I can’t remember the why or the frequency, he had one special way of helping me learn.  You see, in Florida we had these prickly things called “sand spurs.”  They could and would grow anywhere but they seemed partial to our front yard.  Well, one of Daddy’s ways of dealing with them is also one of the ways he dealt with me.  When I did something that was punishment worthy, he would take me to the front yard and have me pull the sand spurs up and out of the yard.  Like a goat mowing the yard, I would work my way over the right side, it was always the right side of the yard pulling every sand spur I could find.  I really, really didn’t like it and I am sure whatever crime I committed, I learned quickly to not do it again.

The Bible, God’s book, also teaches us about discipline.  It says, “No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.” We don’t know who wrote the book of Hebrews but whoever it was seemed to know a lot about switches, belts, and sand spurs.  And do you know what else?  They were certainly right.  Discipline is never, ever pleasant.

So, looking back I am glad that my Momma and Daddy cared enough to try and raise me right.  And I am glad that my Dearest Daddy in heaven does too.  He knows when I’m wrong and He knows when and what is needed to put me back on the straight and narrow.  And even better than my parents, He is never excessive and is always graceful. I like that…a lot.  No matter the crime, His actions toward me have one purpose—redemption. I can trust Him no matter what and when I need some correction, like everything else, I know for sure, “He’s got that.”  Bro. Dewayne 

Posted in Family, fear, friends, gratitude, life, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

Playing Army

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

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

It is an 8mm movie memory.  Like so many families we had a home movie camera growing up.  It is so much fun to go back and watch some of the ones that I have.  One that I remember so well from my childhood days was a clip of my nephew Little Joe.  As you can imagine, since there was a Little Joe, there must have been a Big Joe…and there was.  He was one of my older brothers who is no longer with us, and he had a son we called Little Joe.  Anyway, in one of the movies, it shows Little Joe, and he is wearing a full, miniature Army fatigue uniform.  My big brother Joe had been in the Army, so it was only fitting to see Little Joe dressed like his dad.

In the film clip, Little Joe is marching like a soldier.  Rigid…almost at attention as he marched, with his little face sternly looking at the camera…he looked the part.  He was probably five which means all of this was a zillion years ago.  Thinking of those days, I remembered, once again, how things have changed.  When I was growing up, playing Army was a regular thing…and we took it seriously.  We didn’t have uniforms, but we were armed to the teeth. 

Our arsenal included two different kinds of bullets.  First, there were those from the chinaberry tree. This tree produced hundreds, if not thousands, of green berries the size of small marbles.  The other bullet came from an evergreen that grew in our yard.  They were about the same size but had little pointy things.  Both were plentiful and effective. We would fill our pockets and then head for the woods…hurling them at one another.  But there was more.

We also had dirt clods.  In those days, it seemed there was always construction going on around us and of course that meant digging and digging meant dirt clods.  We would gather at a selected building site, divide into small teams, get behind a dirt pile and lob dirt “grenades” at one another.  We would hurl and duck or duck and hurl and we had a blast except for when a clod hit us in head.  Then, well, it wasn’t fun anymore.

Those building sites also provided a ready selection of pretend weapons…usually surveyor sticks.  Some were long and made great swords and some were wedge shaped and made great machine guns.  The effectiveness of the weapon depended on how good the sound effects were. We would play long, play hard and then come home dirty. Baths were essential and not optional.

Those days of playing army were some of the best memories of my childhood.  Gratefully I was also privileged to serve twelve years in the real Air Force and those days, too, hold so many of my life’s special memories.  But what I thought we should learn today is the fact that while playing army was fun when I was a boy, there is still a war going on today…and it’s not play.  I am learning that there is a battle being waged for so many of the things that we value most in life.  Not the least of these are our faith and families.

Whether you believe in the spirit realm or not, whether you believe in a God or a devil or not, you had better believe that there are things that want nothing more than to wage war against you and what you hold dear.  Sometimes it is a spirit of mediocrity, sometimes it might be a busy lifestyle or perhaps it is a drive to own the things we drive, or live in, or wear.  Perhaps it is a deluge of small things that when added up will cost us…and cost us dearly.

In the Christian New Testament, a young Jewish Rabbi and Messiah named Jesus spoke about a thief and what he does.  Why not think for a few minutes what identities you might assign to this thief.  Look at the things I wrote about above.  Now listen to the rest of what Jesus said, “The thief comes to steal, kill and destroy.”  There you go…boom.

Thieves steal but they can do more, much more, so we must be on guard.  The good news is this is one battle we don’t have to face by ourselves. That same Messiah who defeated death and rose from the dead is ready, willing and able to help.  All we have to is ask.  One more thing.  Don’t confuse Jesus with religion or even church. They might be related but the answer lies with the Man and nothing else. All we have to do is ask. He wants to help you guard what really matters and fight those life battles that are just too big for us on our own. No matter what we face, no matter the fight we can be sure that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne