daddy

Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials, wisdom

He’s Got This

Posted on September 30, 2021September 29, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

We know that all things work together for the good of those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28

I like love notes. My wife Judy and I have been married for a long, long time. Sometimes people ask how it is that we have stayed married to each other for forty-five years. It could be that I am an incredible husband, but the truth is Judy is an incredible wife. She is pretty patient with me when I mess up and well, that’s quite frequently. She also has a great servant’s heart. She is constantly doing the small things that just say, “I love you.” In that way she is a lot like God.

It always impresses me when God does something really big in my world. It causes me to just stop and be amazed. Our lives are filled with stories that show the handiwork of God. Each one is a love note and each one bears His signature. Whether it is getting though a particularly hard time or fulfilling a dream, He is always there. The trick is learning to see it.

Back in 1981, Judy and I were living in Warrensburg, Missouri. We were attending the First Baptist Church there and having the time of our lives. God had blessed us with a wonderful group of friends, and we were serving in several ministries there. Two of those involved music. We were teaching preschool choir (those songs still roll around in my head) and both of us were in the adult choir. Our worship leader, Dan Tracy, was a great guy and great leader. Every choir practice and performance were spiritually magical.

One of the things that Dan did was lead a choir tour every spring. The church would rent a bus for the weekend and our choir would sing at several churches. In the spring of 1981, Judy and I were brand new parents. Our first daughter Rebecca had been born that January. She was obviously too young to leave with a sitter so Judy and I agreed she would stay home, and I would go with the choir. So, on a Thursday afternoon, she took me to church to leave with the choir. We were all excited, but I kinda felt bad leaving Judy behind.

Finally, just about everyone was on the bus and it was time to go. Someone, it may have been Dan, was locking the church door when he happened to hear the phone ringing. For some reason, he stopped and went back inside to answer it. It really didn’t make a lot of since because it was after hours, and it was a larger church, so people called all the time. Regardless, he answered the call. It was for me.

Now before the story goes any further you need to understand that most of our family had no clue what state we lived in. Most of them probably didn’t know where Missouri was on the map. Certainly, no one knew we were attending First Baptist and certainly no one knew I was there late on a Thursday afternoon leaving on a choir tour. Yet the call was for me. It was Judy’s brother…her father had died suddenly of a heart attack, and we needed to go home immediately to Georgia.

Now pause just a moment and be amazed. No one knew what church we were attending; it was after hours, and I was moments away from leaving for the tour and someone just happened to hear the phone and answer it. Amazing. It was obviously very hard news but to this day Judy and I both marvel at how our Father orchestrated this. It was as if He said, “Judy, you have a difficult journey ahead of you but I am putting this together so you will know that I love you and I will walk with you.” And yes, it was as if He signed it, “Love, Dearest Daddy.”

It was a difficult journey that left us both shocked and surprised. Judy’s daddy had just been with us for Rebecca’s birth and suddenly, he moved to heaven. But even in those sad, heartbroken moments, we knew God was not leaving us to walk through this hard time alone. We trusted that He would show us the way as we walked this new, unplanned path. And He never left us to walk alone.

How about you? First, I hope you have made the decision to ask God to forgive your sins and be your Father. It is the greatest and best decision ever. Again, it has nothing to do with religion or church. It has everything to do with a relationship with the Creator of everything. Second, if you have done that, I hope you will make it a habit to look and see the handiwork of your Father in everyday life. He is constantly at work—in the good times and hard times. He is at work when it is obvious and when it is not.

It is one of those verses that a lot of people throw around, but it is just packed with truth. It says, “We know that all things work together for the good of those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” Now, it doesn’t say that everything is good, but that God can bring good from all circumstances. God in fact did get us safely through a twenty-three-hour drive to South Georgia with a six-week-old baby girl in the back seat. God did show us His love through an amazing phone call. And the best part—He does it for each of His kids. So, snuggle up and rest in Him. He loves you and He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

T-Minus 10 Seconds and Counting

Posted on September 8, 2021September 7, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

A fool’s way is right in his own eyes, but whoever listens to counsel is wise.” Proverbs 12:15

It was summer, I was eight and bored. When you are eight the last thing you want is to be bored. But the good part was since it was the 60’s it seemed I had no problem inventing ways to have fun and get into trouble. Though it might be hard for some of our younger Grits readers to believe, back in those days there were only three channels on our black and white television, no internet, and no smart devices. It was a world where being creative was natural. So, I got creative.

I lived in a world with few actual toys. Oh sure, we had great Christmases and birthdays were nothing to sneeze at, but beyond that…it was slim pickings in the toy world. But not to worry—all you had to do is look around and bam—-goodbye boredom. For example, you go to the “junk drawer” and there you would find a collection of rubber bands from the daily newspaper. String about ten of them together and you have a bug killer. In those days, love bugs were everywhere in Florida. They would take up roost on Daddy’s car and I would pick them off one by one. Need something else? Find a piece of chain and drag it through the sand—which was everywhere. As you pulled it along, it became a train…leaving its track in the sand. Then, if you really wanted something cool, you went back to the “junk drawer” and found the left over firecrackers from the 4th of July. Here comes trouble.

I wanted to do something more than just blow something up so I decided to make a spacecraft. In the early sixties that was all the rage. The space race was well underway and the Russians were in the lead. It was time to help NASA out. I went to the trash and got a tin can. I peeled off the label and then punched a hole in the end that still had a lid. I then dug a small hole in the ground to make sure the full force of the firecracker went up and not out. I pulled the fuse up through the hole, put the can in the hole, open end down, firecracker up. We were ready for launch. No worry, NASA, help is on the way.

I lit the fuse and it quickly burned and allowed the firecracker to fall down inside the can where it promptly exploded. It worked just like I expected. A loud bang and the silver rocket soared into the sky. While it didn’t make it into space, it did go about forty or fifty feet. Well, as you know, what goes up…must come down…and it did. It was then that I realized I probably should have gotten a little farther away from my Daddy’s car. As the can fell down to earth, it landed smack-dab in the middle of the hood of the car. There was a bang and then, there was a moan. Even from where I stood, I could see that there was going to be a dent…a very obvious and pronounced dent.

As it turned out my career with NASA was going to be short lived. Well, I dreaded Daddy coming home and discovering my failed space attempt. I knew there was going to be consequences but either Daddy once again extended grace (he did that a lot…probably because I got in trouble a lot) or maybe I have a short or selective memory. Either way, the only thing I remember is I learned to launch my rockets further from the house and the car. You see, there was nothing wrong with launching a rocket or two…the error was not more carefully figuring the details and consequences.

That was a lesson that I have never forgotten even though I may not have perfectly followed it. Before you launch, before you act, before you speak, before you say yes or no…check the details and count the cost. I bet Eve figured that out after her encounter with the serpent in the garden. I bet David figured that out after his rooftop encounter with Bathsheba. I bet Peter figured it out after his fireside chat with a young girl and his subsequent denial. One of the writers in the Old Testament book of Proverbs said, “A fool’s way is right in his own eyes, but whoever listens to counsel is wise.” That might describe my adventure into rockets that summer day. From my eight year old perspective, all systems were go. I bet I would have had a different outcome if I would have checked with Momma first. She probably would have suggested a better launching pad.

Well, no harm, no foul. The car wore the dent for the whole time we owned it, but I did learn a good lesson—when you decide to launch—check the details and get some counsel. As we journey today, that is still good advice. Regardless of what comes along, think about it before you do it and there is a Heavenly Father who is so wise and is just waiting to help us navigate our world. And when there is a misfire, a mishap…don’t worry, He will still be there and if you listen, you will probably hear those three comforting words, “I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, prayer, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

Invincible

Posted on August 27, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

The Lord watches over the foolish; when I was helpless, He saved me.” Psalm 116:6

It was the day of my Daddy’s funeral. I was 20 years old, into my second year in the Air Force and I was pretty much convinced I was invincible. When you are a young buck, independent and all that, it seems you are going to live forever…and I guess you think that those around you will too. That Sunday in July 1974 changed all that. That day my Daddy slipped away from us, and we were left to say goodbye. So, I’m sure there were trips to the funeral home, conversations with the pastor, and details to be ironed out. And then suddenly it was the day of the funeral.

For some reason I don’t remember much about the service. I remember walking into the church and my then girlfriend telling me not to cry. I guess big boys don’t cry after all. I remember a church mostly filled and I remember we sang the old hymn, “In the Garden.” Beyond that there is a void…an emptiness…until lunch. Down south the answer to everything is food…and that is especially true when it comes to grieving.

We had dinner at the home place and there were plenty of people and plenty of food. I was standing out in the backyard talking with a bunch of guys. One of the neighborhood guys I grew up with had a new Honda 750 motorcycle. Like I said…when you are 20 you think you are invincible or maybe since I had just come from my Daddy’s funeral, I needed to prove that I thought I was. Regardless, he asked me if I wanted to take it for a ride.

Now a Honda 750 is a lot of motorcycle…especially for 1974. I mounted my metal steed and headed for the road. The roads were Wheat, Firestone, 118^th St., and Ricker. They formed a very large block about a mile each way. If you took four right turns, you would end up back where you started. At first, I went easy because my experience on motorcycles was just about like it was for horses…an occasional ride…very occasional. I made the first right onto Firestone and a mile later made my second right onto 118th. I’m not sure what prompted it, but I decided to see how fast the Honda would go. So, I opened the throttle and quickly shifted through the gears. I was going fast…too fast.

Before I knew it I was somewhere over 100 miles an hour on a one mile stretch of road on a machine I knew little about. I looked up and coming up very quickly was the stop sign where the road ended at Ricker Road. I needed to stop so I began to downshift and hit the brakes and somehow, someway I managed to bring me and the Honda to a stop. My heart was just about to jump out of my chest and all of a sudden, I didn’t feel very invincible. In fact, I felt quite the opposite. Suddenly I realized that life can be very fragile. I got back to the house in one piece. I’m sure I shared the story with the guys and we probably all had a good laugh but one of us wasn’t laughing on the inside.

You see that day I came face to face not with my invincibility but rather my mortality. I realized that life was precious and was something to be valued and guarded. I’m still not sure what I was trying to prove that day or maybe it was some sort of weird ritual thing that boys do when their Daddy dies. I know this. If my Daddy had been there that day there would have been a very serious discussion about me, motorcycles, and safety. But, fortunately, my Dearest Daddy was there to watch over me. And even though I was not acting responsibility or even rationally, He still cared, He still rescued me. The Psalmist writes in Psalm 116:6 “The Lord watches over the foolish; when I was helpless, He saved me.”

My earthly Daddy, after our talk, would have extended grace that day. My Heavenly Father extended grace too that day. He watched over me, protected me, and gave me the opportunity to live and experience life. Thanks, Father. Over the decades of my life since that hot July day on the day of my Daddy’s funeral, I have experienced God’s grace over and over, again. He has been there for me and from experience I can tell you for a fact that He does indeed, “have this.” Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Sunrise and Sunset

Posted on July 14, 2021July 13, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

It will soon be time for me to leave this life. I have fought a good fight. I have finished the work I was to do. I have kept the faith.” 2 Timothy 4:6-7

It was a warm North Florida Sunday morning that would change everything. I was raised in Jacksonville, Florida and was fortunate to live in one place and one house all of my growing up years. Our house was a converted World War II army barracks with a couple of rooms added on. I’m not sure who moved it there, or who added what, but it was home…my home. I lived there till I graduated from high school and joined the Air Force. My Daddy had some heart issues while I was still in high school and unfortunately, they went from bad to worse. This was before all the miraculous medicines and surgeries that we have now. So, times were hard for him…and us.

In the summer of 1974, somehow it came about that we, the family, would get together and paint the house. It was a wooden structure, and time and weather had taken a toll on the outside. The old wood siding looked pretty rough, and as I remember it, Daddy said he wanted to have the house painted before he died. Now that is my memory, and it may not be entirely accurate but something like that is how we ended up painting the house in mid-July. Several, if not all, the brothers were on hand as we scraped and painted the house. I don’t know if my sisters were painters or not, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were.

As darkness crept up on us on Saturday, July 13th, the house was just about painted. We worked until nearly dark and finally, it was done. It looked amazingly better and Daddy and the rest of us were proud of our hard work. Daddy did little, if any, of the painting because of his health. But there was something he did do. Several of the wooden windows needed the panes reglazed, so he was working on those. We had a wash-room built onto the house and he was working on that window when darkness fell Saturday evening.

The next morning, Sunday, July 14th, Momma when in to check on Daddy in the bedroom they shared. That was when she found that sometime early in the morning, he slipped from us. I clearly remember the chaos of those moments as we called the ambulance and tried to perform CPR, but it was too late. Daddy was gone. All of a sudden, those last days of working and painting together became so important, so special. We had pulled together and given Daddy one of his desires. It is almost like he was waiting for the job to be done so he could go home.

Later that day, as we were trying to figure everything out, someone found that window he had been working on the night before. It was laying on two sawhorses with a rag and his tools still in place. As it turned out, it was the last work he did on this earth. Someone snapped a picture but as far as I know it has been lost to time, but in my mind I can see it as clearly as if I was standing there. Daddy’s work on this earth was over and yet he lives on. He lives on in heaven and he lives on in our hearts. The freshly painted old World War II barracks was a reminder of our love and respect for the man we called Daddy.

All of that was 47 years ago today. It is hard to imagine that so much time has passed since he passed from this world into a better world…a world where bad hearts have no place and where time doesn’t matter. One day, because of God’s good grace, I will see my Daddy again. My Momma joined him in heaven just four short years later…both were just 62 years old. But when I get there, when we get there, all that won’t matter because God is going to make it all right…all new.

I supposed the whole purpose of this Grits is just to allow me to relive a good memory of a good man. I suppose it is just to help me make sure that his memory lives on here, as he lives on there. And I suppose the big truth for this Grits is that we should live each day to the fullest and do whatever it is we should do. It might be painting a house, or glazing a window, or it just might be showing someone that you love them. We don’t know what day will be our last day, so we should live each one to the fullest. Then, we can say something like Paul said when he wrote, “It will soon be time for me to leave this life. I have fought a good fight. I have finished the work I was to do. I have kept the faith.” And my friend, that is a legacy worth leaving.

Losing my daddy at twenty years old was hard, very hard. Then mama was gone, just four short years later, which left me feeling they were both gone too soon. For some of you, that hardness is yet to come. But from the voice of experience, let me say, you don’t have to walk it alone. When you are drowning in the sea of sorrow and confusion, He will not leave you to bear it alone. He wants to walk with you, carry you, and whisper as only He can, “I’ve got this.” And He does. Bro. Dewayne

Family, food, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, Trials

Scars and Souvenirs

Posted on July 13, 2021July 12, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

We know that all things work together for the good of those who love God, who are called according to his purpose., I have engraved you on the palms of my hands…” Romans 8:28

I was probably nine years old when it happened. If you look at my hands you will see several scars. Over here is one from an “exacto” knife when I was putting together a car model. Over there is one from a car accident. I was riding with my brother-in-law and the car in front of him decided to stop and he decided not to.

There is one on my right thumb—its the one that has been there for the last 55 years. We were visiting with my Uncle Hardy down near Chiefland, Florida. He was mom’s brother and the city manager of that small central Florida town. They had an annual Watermelon Festival that included all the melon you could eat and an opportunity to ride on the back of the city’s garbage truck in the parade. That was a big deal. I didn’t get out much.

There are two things that Uncle Hardy had that impacted my life. One was a hairline that didn’t include much hair. Thanks Uncle Hardy. The other was a fish camp on the Suwannee River. It was an old Florida cabin with a tin roof, the kind legends are born from, at least for a nine-year-old. We would take boat rides, swim in the river, and eat watermelon. And that’s where “a scar was born.”

We were eating watermelon and I picked up a large butcher knife to slice off the watermelon from the rind. I didn’t have a lot of experience with butcher knives, but I was feeling a little like “Indiana Jones” so I picked it up. Like I said, I didn’t have a lot of experience, so I began slicing the watermelon pulling the knife toward me and my little nine-year-old hand. My dad saw it and said, “Dewayne. Be careful with the knife. Don’t pull it toward you—push it away”.

Well, when you are nine and know it all, and you’re feeling like Indiana Jones you don’t listen to your Daddy or common sense. So I kept right on slicing and then it happened. I got a little too close to my hand and neatly sliced a half-moon cut in my thumb. Well, so much for Indiana Jones. There was the usual holler, a bit of tears, a daddy’s “I told you so,” a big bandage, a little embarrassment, and the makings of a scar.

It healed fine, leaving a scar and a gentle reminder. When you are using a knife don’t pull it toward you…push it away. Daddy was right. There is only one scar on my hand from using a knife incorrectly. That is because every time I am tempted to do it wrong, the scar on my right thumb says don’t. And now the scar has become a sort of souvenir. When I see it I don’t remember the pain, the tears or the embarrassment, I remember the lesson.

How about you? Have any scars…visible or invisible? When you see them or think about them, does your mind instantly go back to pain? Do you find yourself constantly living “it” all over again—the hurtful word, the unkind act, the feeling of being rejected or forgotten? What if we “scar bearers” could remember the lesson instead of the pain? What if we could remember the promise instead of the pain? Promise? Yes, the one found in Romans 8:28 “We know that all things work together for the good of those who love God, who are called according to His purposes.” This is a “go to” promise for me because I have a lot of oops, bumps, bruises, and scars. I’m learning, though, to look at all of that not for the pain they caused, but the good God brought from them.

I’m determined to learn to glean as much as I can from each day. It’s something I picked up during 2020. It’s ironic how 2020 means clarity and yet we had so little of it. But we have a God who can see all things with perfect insight. So instead of singing the blues, I’m gonna work at turning my scars into souvenirs. And I’m gonna lay my head down tonight and rest in Him. But there’s more. I know now my daddy was a lot wiser than I was. He had experience with knives and watermelon. And my heavenly Father…well, He knows everything, and do you know what? He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Family, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Backyard Cars

Posted on March 1, 2021February 28, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

But Peter said, “I don’t have silver or gold, but what I do have, I give you: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, get up and walk!” Acts 3:6

Sometimes it seemed like a parking lot. We have all seen it, but I experienced it. As I have often said, there were certain benefits to growing up urban county. We weren’t country like horses and cows, but we were country like room to run, places to play and cars in the backyard. What? Yup. I know we have all seen yards where there are old cars hanging around the yard. I know each time I drive to Paducah down Route 145 in Southern Illinois I pass a house with an old Capri parked in the yard…permanently. Over the years that I have seen it, weeds and green algae have slowly grown over it. I’m not sure about the story behind the old Capri, but it is there year after year.

Over the years I lived at 6008 Carlton Road, we had several cars parked in our backyard. When my granddaddy Taylor died, we inherited his old Pontiac Sedan. I’m not sure what year it was but it was old…probably the late forties if I were to guess. I know at least for a while it was a runner, but later on it became a sitter. Regardless, it was a great place to play and hide in a good game of hide and seek. This past week I was converting some old family movies to digital so we could watch them again. There is one simply titled, Alston and Leslie Taylor and their children – 1960’s. In the middle of the video there was my daddy, and he was working on the old Pontiac. It was good to see him again. It reminded me what a good man he was.

I have a feeling that there was a reason that he was working on granddaddy’s Pontiac. You see I remember that our main driver, a 1957 Plymouth, blew an engine so it was parked under the tree in the backyard. So, I think Daddy may have been working on the Pontiac so we would have something that would get us from here to there. The Plymouth sat there for quite a while. Motors were expensive and it would be a while before Mama and Daddy could scrape the money together to buy a rebuilt one. I know they eventually did, but until then it was the old Pontiac.

And then there was the Sunbeam. My brother Lee bought a car from somebody and it was quite unusual. It was a British made car and it almost had that James Bond allure about it. I was trying to think how to describe it and simply put, it was cool. Well, it was cool until it quit running. You see, certain cars, and especially British ones, are hard to work on and expensive to repair. Well, somewhere along the road (no pun intended) it died. Rather than bury it, we just parked it the backyard where it became one of the original storage sheds. We slowly stuffed it to the gills with—stuff.

Well, eventually the Plymouth got fixed, the Pontiac got hauled off and the Sunbeam went somewhere, and our backyard looked a little less like a small junkyard and more like a garden. Daddy had a love for growing roses and I have to admit they looked a lot better than the old cars that adorned our yard for a season. Thinking back, I wonder what people thought about the old World War II barracks turned house with a car or two parked in the backyard. I wonder if they, like me, like you, were tempted to judge the people that lived there?

I wonder if they ever pondered why the house needed painting most of the time or why there were old junk cars sitting in the yard? I wonder if they thought the people who lived there were lazy or unkept. Well, in the case of 6008 Carlton Road they would have been wrong on both cases. My Daddy was a hard worker making sure the folks under his care had food and clothes. He worked until his heart said no, and even then he found a job as a security guard. Mama worked hard taking care of us. She poured her life into our lives and made sure there was supper on the table and clean clothes to wear. I would suppose they both were too busy pulling it all together to worry what people thought.

I know this. When I drive south to Paducah and pass that old house with the overgrown Capri in the front yard, it won’t be thoughts of judgement that pass through my mind. Instead, I will remember two people who worked hard to make life possible for my me, and my brothers and sisters. And then I will remember that until I have walked in someone’s shoes, I have no business looking down on anyone. Most folks don’t wake up some morning and just decide to have their world go south. Sometimes it just happens. But what I do know is that Jesus, the Man a lot of us have committed to follow, wouldn’t cast a rock, rather He would lend a hand.

One day a couple of Jesus followers were going to church and they passed by a man who couldn’t walk. The guy was begging and that was the honorable thing to do given there was no security net for help in those days. He looked up and the two Jesus guys looked down. They said, “You know, we don’t have any money, but we do have an answer. And right there, right then, they reached down and in the name of Jesus they healed the guy. He got up, did a little dance and they all went to church together. How about that? So, who can you help today? What house have you driven by so many times before but perhaps today you need to stop? I know in a world of risks, that can be hard but hey, I know Someone who will help make it happen. His name is Jesus and He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, Southern born, thankful, wisdom

The “Switchings”

Posted on February 3, 2021February 2, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

No discipline seems enjoyable at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.” Hebrews 12:11

I guess I just got bored. When I was growing up in North Florida it was just easy to get bored. It was a different time. There was no internet, no satellite or cable television, and no electronic games. Then, you have to add to that there just weren’t a lot of toys to play with. While Daddy and Mama loaded us up at Christmas, by summer a lot of them had suffered from rough play. So, you had to get a little creative! And that’s when I got into trouble.

One of my favorite things was to make rubber band guns. It was really quite easy. They were building houses across the street from where we lived (slowly our place in the country was becoming suburban). Like at any construction site there were lots of wedge shaped sticks sticking out of the ground. I later learned they were surveyor sticks. Oops. Anyway, they had lots and I needed one, every once in a while, so I would, uh, borrow one…or two. Well, Mama took the local newspaper so we got a paper every day and it came wrapped with a rubber band. You simply collect a few rubber bands (they were discarded in the yard), drive a nail in your stick and tada…you had a rubber band gun. See…creative.

Well, that was bound to get old, so I came up with another idea. In North Florida, the soil (at least where we lived) was very sandy. I discovered that if you take a water hose and start forcing it against the sandy soil it will act like a drill. As the water forced the sand away, the hose would slowly sink into the sand. Well, it was fun. Before I knew it, the hose was a foot in the ground, then it was two, and then it was three and it was just about then I wondered how I would get it out. So, I gave it a tug. It didn’t budge. I gave it a pull—nope, it didn’t give an inch. I was in trouble.

What happened next is lost to time and history, but one of two things happened. Number one. I left the hose stuck in the ground. Daddy came home and wanted to water his rose bushes. He found the hose stuck in the ground, asked me and I told the truth, and I was sent to the bamboo bushes to get my own instrument of correction. Think a thin bamboo switch. It was effective…every time. Number two. I realized that the hose was stuck in the ground and I realized that Daddy would be coming home soon, and he would water his rose bushes. So, I went in the house and got a knife and cut off the hose. The end result was the same. He asked, I told, bamboo switch. By the way…another sign that times have changed. I looked up switch and was told it turned electricity off and on and was an electronic game that kids play. Mine was neither.

You know, I really didn’t intend to mess up the construction site across from my house and I really didn’t mean to get my Daddy’s hose stuck in the sand. The truth was I was just naive. But there is another truth. My being naive didn’t change the fact that I shouldn’t have done what I did and in the case of my Daddy’s hose—it didn’t change the consequences. You might be asking, “Did your Daddy really give you a “switching?” And the answer is yes. You might ask, “Do you think you deserved the “switching?” The answer is yes. Finally, you might ask, “Did you learn anything from the “switching?” And the answer is yes.

You see, I never, ever again, turned on the water and let the water hose get stuck in the ground. I don’t believe I was ever even tempted to let the water hose get stuck in the ground. You see, the “switching” was not an act of anger or meanness, it was an act of love. Daddy was teaching me about right and wrong and I am grateful for that. Daddy had several ways to discipline and they were generally fair and not too harsh. And I believe they worked because I’ve never been arrested or spent a night in jail—yet. I wrote recently about being a compliant person…and I am, but part of that might be because my Daddy (and Mama) cared enough to help me learn.

I never really bought into the thought that the “switching” hurt my Daddy more than me because I know it hurt pretty bad. But I do know he didn’t enjoy it. My Heavenly Father doesn’t enjoy it either and He loves me even more than my earthly Daddy. God’s Book, the Bible, says that no discipline seems enjoyable at the time, but painful. Well, that is the truth. But is also says that later on it yields a kind of fruit—the kind that teaches us right from wrong. And that is profitable.

So, the lessons for today? Don’t pull up surveyor sticks and don’t stick your Daddy’s hose in the dirt and above all…remember that your Father up in heaven loves you. In fact, He loves you enough to allow hard things in your life to help you learn right from wrong…to make better decisions with fewer consequences and regrets. And don’t worry…He is loving and patient. He never over reacts but rather responds in just the right way. And as always, He’s got even this.

Bro. Dewayne

Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

Forty-Five Years Ago

Posted on October 26, 2020October 25, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” John 8:32

It was forty-five years ago today. My life has always been steeped in church, God, and stuff. I think my older brother had something to do with that. Dad tended to be a CEO attender—you know—Christmas and Easter only. But even with that said there were other ways that he clearly showed that he and God were on good speaking terms. Two of my favorite memories are of him praying. One time he was down on his knees leading us as a family in prayer. He never stood taller. The other happened when I came home late from a date and found him talking to our Dearest Father, hands clasped and head bowed.

Now, mama was more faithful at church except when she hit a bump or two. She liked to attend and she would take us with her. No questions asked. She sang, she led one of the girl’s classes, and she too was on good terms with Jesus. But there were a couple of times when her heart got hurt and she would sit out for a little while. It was then my oldest brother would take over the taxiing job and make sure I got to church. To this day I am grateful that he did that. Because of him habitually taking me, there has never been a time when I didn’t go to church. That was good but what happened forty-five years ago was far better.

Right out of high school I joined the Air Force and ended up stationed in Valdosta, Georgia at Moody Air Force Base. Since church was such a regular part of my calendar I made it a point to go—a lot. One Wednesday night I decided to go to one of the local churches. So I got there, opened the side door and right across the room was Judy Allen. She was beautiful and right there and then I decided I liked that church—a lot.

I started attending regularly for two reasons. It was what I was used to doing and Judy was there. We started dating right away and before too long we were engaged. She was probably too young and I was probably too old but, hey, that is sometimes the way of love. Well, in June of 1975 she met someone else—another guy. Fortunately for me it was Jesus. She, like me, was raised in church but she discovered that going to church and knowing Jesus were two entirely different things. Jesus waltzed into her life and she was like a new person—an even better person—better than I deserved for sure.

Well, a few months went by and at church one morning, October 26 to be exact, I bumped into the same Man she had met. Unexpectedly the pastor told a story about a man who had gone to church all his life and then realized he had never met Jesus. You might say he was religious, but not a Jesus follower. When I heard about him, I realized that was me—I was the same way—way too religious and way short on knowing Jesus as my best friend. That morning in Valdosta, Georgia at about 10:45 in the morning I met Jesus and my life changed forever. Jesus didn’t make me perfect that day but He sure made me forgiven. He put me on a new road and well, it has been amazing.

So, for forty-five years I have walked with Jesus and here I sit today, a pastor for thirty-eight of those years and writing stories. And Judy, well, in June of 1976, we decided to walk together and we just never stopped. Me, Judy, and Jesus—it has been quite the journey. For the past forty-five years, every year, I have celebrated two birthdays. The first is January 6, the day I was physically born. But I also celebrate October 26, the day I met Jesus and was spiritually born.

Every time I write a story I love to put a big truth in it about God. Well this story is a bit different—this time the story is Jesus and what He did for me and wants to do for you. Remember, don’t make the mistake I did—confusing religion and church with Jesus. They are not the same—He is a lot better. He said that we could know the truth and the truth would set us free. Well, the truth is He loves you, no matter what, more than you can imagine. The truth is, He wants you to trust Him, to rest in Him. The truth is He’s got this. Trust me, I know.

Family, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, thankful, wisdom

Chucking Rocks

Posted on July 23, 2020 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 here and there but then I started taking aim. Several things were lying 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 passing by. My Daddy thought it was kinda accidental and it garnered a “Dewayne, be careful to not 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 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. They dragged her into the middle of a crowd and wanted to stone her. They asked Jesus what He would 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 two 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. 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. So, I am 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. However, it’s good to know 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.”

Family, Father's Day, Grace, gratitude, life

Posted on June 19, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.” Exodus 20:12

He didn’t wear a cape or an iron suit but he was a hero to me. A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away I was born. It all happened on January 6, 1954 in Orange Park, Florida. I was number eight in a family of eight. This can’t be confirmed but I think it went something like this. My daddy was somewhat of a perfectionist and he and my mom had tried seven times to have the perfect child. He went to my mom and said, “Well, honey, I know we have tried seven times to pull off this perfect child thing and I say we give it one more shot. I really think eight is going to be our lucky number.” So, ta-da here I am…living proof that persistence pays off.

My daddy was 42 years old when I was born. He had plenty of experience at the Father thing and you know, I think he did a great job. I don’t recall a lot of special events in my early and later childhood but that isn’t because they didn’t happen. I can remember family camping trips to the beach as well as all night fishing trips to the same. I can remember family vacations to see relatives in all the hot vacation spots like New Jersey and Texas. I can remember trips to Silver Springs, Six Gun Territory and Doctor’s Inlet which was a great place to go for a lake swim. But there are also several memories with just dad and me.

When I was about six, daddy took me fishing on Cedar Creek. It was just me and him. At this age, I wasn’t very good at fishing or paying attention. Truth be known I had a hard time staying focused on anything for very long. Anyway, the fish were biting that day but I had a hard time watching the bobber. Over and again, daddy would ask, “Dewayne, where’s your bobber?” I would look and it was gone. We lost a lot of good worms that day.

Later, when I was about ten, daddy took me hunting. The big deal was that he allowed me to take my BB gun. I wasn’t allowed to carry a real gun; you will see why in a moment. So, we were walking through the woods and I was about four feet behind dad. Silent as a F5 tornado, I crept through the woods. I was too noisy but dad was way patient. And then, well, I shot him in the back. Now wait, don’t panic. It was only a BB gun and he did have his heavy hunting jacket on. I had my finger on the trigger (oops) and every so slowly and without even realizing it, increased the pressure. Just like that it went off and got dad square in the back. Bummer.

Do you know what? He didn’t holler and in fact he didn’t say a single word. He just looked over his shoulder and gave me that “I’m glad that wasn’t a 12 gauge” look. I appreciated that and have never forgotten the fact that he could have made me feel “less than” but didn’t. I’m sure we had a talk about gun safety and it must have worked out because I never shot him again.

My two favorite memories of him don’t involve a fishing pole or a gun. They involve God. Honestly, daddy didn’t go to church a bunch but I know he was a Christian because of the way he lived. Two events, two memories are burned into my mind and heart. The first is a time when we were having prayer time together as a family. Some people call it family altar…at the time I probably called it too long. I remember it was time to pray so we all got down on our knees around the room. I got a little bored so I peeked and there across the room was my daddy, on his knees, talking to God. It made a big impression on my young heart.

Later, when I was about 17 I caught daddy praying again. I came home from a date late one night and there sitting at the kitchen table was my daddy—praying. With his hands clasped together he was talking to God. I don’t know what prompted the late night prayer meeting but I know it again made a big impression on me as a young man. And that is the point. My daddy made an impression on me that impacted so many areas of my life. Integrity, work ethic, caring and providing for your family and being a man were all part of the core curriculum.

I didn’t get to keep my daddy too much longer. When I was in high school he had a massive heart attack. He lived a couple of more years but when he was just 62 and I was 20, God decided to take him home. Suddenly, on a Sunday morning he went to heaven. It was hard and is hard to this day. He never got to meet my wife, children or any of his eight great grandchildren. He never got see much of my career in the Air Force or hear me preach a sermon. I hope in heaven they keep tabs on us down here and I hope I’ve made my hero proud.

Well, now that we are all sad and weepy let me throw this in. Whether you are young or older, take the time this Father’s Day, and every day, to tell your dad (and mom) how much you appreciate them. One of God’s big commands is that we honor our parents and when we do—we honor Him. There’s no better way to do that than to tell them and show them that you love them. I know things don’t always work out with dads and if that is the case with you I am so sorry. My dad wasn’t perfect…none are but his love outweighed his warts. If you are a Jesus follower, I hope you can extend some grace…just like God did to you. And always remember, you have a Heavenly Father who is perfect, who always gets it right. He’s always waiting for you to crawl up in His lap and take a rest. And the icing on the cake is He is stronger than a super hero…and because of that, He’s got this.