Tag: childhood

Posted in Family, fear, gratitude, life, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Spiders and Snakes

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.” Psalm 23:4

I don’t like spiders and snakes.  Nope, never did and never will.  That was the title of one of those crazy songs from the seventies. Of course, back then there were several crazy songs but after all—it was the seventies.  Crazy or not, it was one of those songs that I could sure identify with. We lived on two acres of land and a lot of it was, well, weedy.  And sometimes Daddy or Momma would decide that it would have to be mowed…by push mower.  I can well remember slowly, ever so slowly, working my way through the tall, weeds.  I was sure, really sure, that somewhere out there were giant anacondas just waiting to grab my leg and wrap me in their death grip.  Nope, I don’t like snakes.

Oh, and I sure don’t like spiders either.  While I never saw the giant anacondas that lurked in the forbidden zone of our two acres, I saw plenty of spiders.  Our house had wooden siding and at each corner where the siding went a different direction, there would be the perfect spot for these flesh-eating black spiders to hide.  And while I never saw one of them eating anything, my young mind had no problem imagining what went on in their web covered holes.  If the hole would have been big enough, I am sure their dens would have been filled with little boys’ remains.  Nope, I don’t like spiders.

But of all the spiders that called 6008 Carlton Road home, the dreaded banana spider was the worse.  The banana spider (I’m sure that is not the correct name, but it was what I called them) would spin their webs out in the low hanging branches and in between two or more bushes.  They were about the size of a small house dog (well, it seemed they were) and they had long legs and a long and narrow thingy in the back.  Their webs were extremely tough and usually had a zigzag pattern. While I managed to avoid them most of the time, sometimes, well, I didn’t, and it seemed that is always when I was mowing the yard.

It would go like this.  I was one of those “can’t hold still” and big imagination kids.  So, I would be pushing the lawn mower fast (to get done…that was just my nature) with my mind somewhere either in the woods or the kitchen—dreaming of a peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwich.  Zipping along, ducking occasionally for a lower limb, I would almost always manage to walk right into one of these spider webs.  To this day I can still remember just how much I hated it.  The web would get wrapped around my face and unlike the black flesh-eating spiders who lived in the cracks on my house, these guys didn’t hide—they were always there. Boy, do I hate spiders.

Well, looking back and being a little wiser, I know now that those big black spiders didn’t eat little boys after all.  No, they were fond of small insects.  And those massive banana spiders really weren’t trying to wrap me in their web so they could save me for a midnight snack.  They too were insect eaters—howbeit bigger insects than their cousins.  So, while I know the threat was not real—the fear was.  In fact, it was very real.  And that is the way it works, isn’t it? So often the threats that we feel, we sense around us are not real.  Most of the things we fear never, ever happen, but the truth is—the fear does.  We find ourselves wrapped in its tight web, paralyzed, wanting to break free but bound.

There might be several answers to fear and knowledge is one of those.  Often if we can gain a clearer understanding of what is driving the fear, it will scamper back into its dark den.  But another thing that sends fear on the run is a strong faith in our God—our Dearest Daddy.  When we realize that He is greater than anything we might fear, when we believe that He will always be there, fear retreats into the dark places it came from.  The light of faith shows us that we have nothing to fear.  When David, the shepherd turned king of Bible days, was writing about death, he said, “Even if I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.  You are with me.”  Did you see all of that great truth?  Death is but a shadow and God is with us.  Now that will put fear on the run.

So today, if you accidentally wander into a web of fear, just remember that the thing we are fearing has no more grip than we give it.  If you can call God Father, well, He is greater than even death.  He loves you and wants to walk with you. My earthly Daddy never walked with me when I mowed but if he had it would have sure helped.  My spider stomping Daddy would have given me the confidence I needed.  I’m glad to let you know that your heavenly spider stomping, fear killing Daddy is beside you and if you listen, over the din of noise, you can hear Him saying, “I’ve got this.”  Bro. Dewayne

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

Chucking Rocks

Posted on 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

I should have listened.  I was a pretty good kid when I was young but let’s be honest.  Pretty good doesn’t mean perfect and pretty good doesn’t mean not mischievous.  I think it means I was somewhere close to normal.  The only thing is normal can still get you into trouble.

One day I was with the family and I’m pretty sure we were at a laundromat.  Apparently, the washing machine had broken down and we had to do the wash at the mat.  My daddy and I were out in the parking lot while mama was washing the clothes.  I was about nine and bored and that is not a good combination.  The parking lot was gravel and all those rocks just seemed to be saying, “Throw me.”  So, I obliged.

At first it was a little toss here and there but the more I threw, the more I wanted to throw.  First it was random, but then I started taking aim.  Several things were laying along the edge of the parking lot and they made great targets but then I got an idea.  If hitting a can was good, imagine hitting a moving target.  So, I started chucking the rocks in the direction of the road and at the cars passing by.  Bad idea.

Now, if you are going to chuck rocks at a car, every nine-year old rock chucker knows you don’t just chuck your rock with obvious intention.  You ease into it. Well, I started easing into it and before long, my rocks were landing dangerously close to cars going by.  My Daddy thought it was kinda accidental and it garnered a “Dewayne, be careful not to hit the cars.”  He hadn’t caught onto my real plan to “ping a hub cap.”  Anyway, I kept chucking so he upped the warning.

“Dewayne, listen, don’t throw rocks at the cars.” He had finally caught on and I should have quit while I was ahead.  I finally got close enough so that we entered “Final Jeopardy.” “Question—what happens if you hit a car? Answer—I’m gonna give you a spanking.”  Yeah, well, you can probably guess where this is going.  I chucked a rock and hit a car going by and it was “Final Jeopardy.”  Daddy got mad, the driver got mad, and I got in trouble.

Well, Daddy was able to talk to the driver and he promised him the “grapes of wrath” would fall when we got home.  As he drove off, Daddy explained about the “grapes of wrath.” Translated it meant I was gonna get a spanking when we got home, and it wasn’t gonna be a little one.  So, as soon as we pulled into our driveway, I ran into the house and hid under the dining room table.  Soon, I heard Daddy’s voice, “Where are you, Dewayne?”  I felt like Adam and Eve in the garden after they had chucked rocks at God and decided to sin.  God was looking for them and they were hiding too.

And that’s where things get fuzzy.  I don’t remember the spanking which means I probably got grace instead.  It probably means that Daddy and I had a long talk about chucking rocks at cars and how that was not a good thing to do.  It must have worked because I don’t think I ever chucked another rock at a car…at least one that was moving. That day I learned about obedience and how it has a whole lot less consequences than disobedience.  I also learned about grace.  Grace is when you deserve a spanking but instead you get a talking.  But I also learned about rock chucking. I learned that it was ok to chuck rocks at things like stumps and cans, but it is not ok to chuck rocks at things like cars. When you do there are consequences…big ones.

Now, there’s another kind of rock chucking that I’m still learning about and that is chucking rocks at people. I’m not talking about waylaying someone with a stone but rather waylaying them with our judgmental acts and words. It’s what we do when we see someone fail and we decide to make ourselves feel better by knocking them down.

Jesus ran into this when some religious people found a woman sinning big-time.  They dragged her into the middle of a crowd and wanted to stone her.  They asked Jesus what would He do?  He told them that the person that had never sinned should chuck the first rock.  Well, slowly they all walked away because they had all messed up. “Where are your accusers?” Jesus asked the woman.  She replied that they had left…and indeed they had.

The only ones left were her, the sinner, and Him, the One who had never sinned.  He could have chucked rocks but instead He loved her and forgave her.  She deserved the rocks, but He gave her grace.  I like that.  A lot.  So, He dismissed her a smile and a word of “now don’t go on sinning” and the rocks stayed on the ground…right where they belong.

I am so grateful for grace…and you should be too.  If we have experienced grace, we should extend some too. You see, rocks make great parking lots and driveways, but are terrible weapons. They need to stay in the quarry or on the ground.  My Daddy showed grace then and my Dearest Daddy shows it every day.  We should too.  It’s good to know though when we are hiding under the dining room table and He calls, we can come out and sit in His lap and learn about the consequences of sin but also the wonders of grace.  So, come on out from your hiding place. We can rest in Him because, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, wisdom

Nickels, Dimes and Quarters

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

If you help the poor, you are lending to the Lord—and He will repay you!” Proverbs 19:17

It was part generosity and part tradition.  When I was growing up, Sunday meant going to church. My Momma would always make sure I had taken a bath, combed my hair, brushed my teeth (I think), had clean clothes, and had an offering.  There was something about going to church and taking an offering.  It almost seemed like either God would be mad if I didn’t or the people at church would think we were poor or something…which we might have been.

Now the offering wasn’t a whole lot, but it was more than the widow lady in the Bible gave.  Her offering was less than a penny, but it was really everything she had.  Momma gave me a quarter most times but sometimes it was a dime and on rare occasions it was a dollar.  Trust me, that was a rarity.  Anyway, I finally figured out that it wasn’t the amount that mattered anyway.  What mattered was that Momma thought it was important and it mattered that I didn’t pocket the quarter.  Jesus said something about it was more blessed to give than to receive and I’m sure Momma knew that.  So anyway, I gave the quarter.

I read a story the other day about a little girl who went to church just like me.  Her Momma gave her a dime and a nickel. The little girl asked, “Which one am I supposed to give?” and her Momma told her she could decide.  Well, when she came home from church, her Momma asked her which one she gave, and she said she had given the nickel.  When asked why she gave the nickel instead of the dime she said, “Well, the preacher said that God loves people who give cheerfully, and I was a lot happier when I gave the nickel and kept the dime.”  Smile.

I know that I am still a work in progress.  God started the project way back in 1975 and He’s still working today.  I’ve heard it said that His work isn’t done until He takes us home to live with Him.  I believe that is true.  One of the areas that He is working on with me is generosity.  They say that if you want to carve a duck from a block of wood you just cut off everything that doesn’t look like a duck. Well, that is what God does with us except He’s not making ducks. He is making Jesus followers. And one thing I know for sure is that Jesus was always generous.  He was so generous He gave His life away on a wooden cross to pay for everyone’s sin.  Now that is generosity.  Now that is love.

My point isn’t that you ought to give to the church.  The point is we should all learn to be generous to others.  A generous life is a happy life, and a generous heart is a happy heart.  In the Old Testament part of the Bible in the Book of Proverbs it says, “If you help the poor, you are lending to the Lord—and He will repay you!”  You know, I believe that is true.  I’m also sure that the repayment may not be dollars and cents but rather a deep sense of peace and joy in our lives—and that is better—that is priceless.  Remember this—God is more than willing to help you be like Jesus, but it all starts when we believe what He did and what He said. He died and came back to life and promised to forgive anyone who asked.  Need a little help with that?  Well, don’t worry, He’s got that too.

Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Christmas, Family, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture, thankful

My Christmas Santa

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” Galatians 3:28

Santa Claus came to town.  I cannot describe the excitement that filled my small world as Christmas grew near.  I wish I could tell you it was all about Jesus, but in my boyhood world it was about presents and presents meant one thing—Santa Claus.  Just like we have now, we had an attic in our World War II barracks turned into a house.  And every year we would go into this magical place where special things lived and bring down the decorations.  We would start early and stay late.  While a white Christmas in Florida was never in the offing, a fun time was.

There were certain decorations that were staples in my world—I can see them in my mind’s eye like it was yesterday.  One of those was Santa Claus.  Now, we didn’t have the whole body but what we did have was his face.  Yup!  Our Santa face was about two feet tall and about 18 inches wide.  It was from molded plastic so it was three dimensional and to me—it was real.  When I got just a little older, I got to climb up on the roof (carefully for you concerned moms) and using some wire I would hang our Santa face on the front side of our chimney. But wait it gets better!  Our Santa face had a light bulb inside and would light up at night for all the world (at least so I thought) to see.  It was magical.

I remember the vibrant colors—the red hat falling down one side of his peachy face, his full white beard, rosy cheeks, and his eyes.  His eyes were bright blue and right in the middle of each pupil was a small hole so that brilliant white light could come peek out giving the illusion of just the right amount of twinkle.  It was as if I could hear his hearty “ho, ho, ho.”  It was more than a plastic face—for me it was the center of my Christmas world.

I’m not sure what happened to Santa.  By the time Mama moved out of the house, I was in the Air Force.  I’m hoping he is still living in someone’s attic, but probably he found his way to the trash pile…the victim of some relative that stopped believing.  But he will always live in my mind.  But in my grownup world, I stopped to question.  Why did Santa look just like me?  Why was his skin so peachy and his eyes so blue?  If he loved all the kids around the whole world, it didn’t seem quite right that my Santa looked so…white. What about the African American kids, or the Asian kids, or the Hispanic kids?  What about all the other kids?   It didn’t occur to me so much back then, but looking back…it does.

Well, having a peachy faced, blue eyed Santa is one thing but what about a peachy faced, blue eyed Jesus?  It’s so funny that when I look at a nativity set, there’s a fair skinned, often blue-eyed Jesus.  When I see a painting of Jesus in a church, (keeping in mind we don’t know what He looked like), He usually does have brown hair and eyes but His skin is unusually fair for a Middle Eastern man.  Honestly, perhaps this doesn’t matter too much unless we begin to think that Jesus is partial to us…no matter who “us” is.  You see, just like the kids’ song says, “Jesus loves the little children, all the little children of the world.”  Color never mattered to Him, or the side of town you lived in, or how rich or poor you were.  He just loves people.

I loved the Santa that hung on my chimney just the way He was.  He wasn’t making a statement…he was just saying, “Ho, ho, ho…Merry Christmas.”  But let’s make sure our Jesus, or at least how we perceive Him, isn’t making an unintended statement either.  There is a whole world out there who God loves and who Jesus died for. Paul, one of the guys who God used to write the New Testament, said, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” So, if we are a Jesus follower, let’s get the message out that Jesus loves people…period.  And just as important…let’s make sure we get the message out that because He loves people…we love people.

The mission for every Jesus follower is the same—love God, love people. That’s what the Bible teaches, and I figure if we are going to follow Him, we should follow it.  It’s not always easy to love people…especially in these crazy days but guess what?  With Him nothing is impossible.  That’s what the angel told the young, virgin Mary.  God can pull anything off—including helping us love others.  It’s just good to know that “He’s got this.”