dating – Grits with Grace

Family, friends, Grace, life, loving others, prayer, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful

Real Love, Real Blessed

Posted on June 26, 2023 by Dewayne Taylor

This is real love—not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.” 1 John 4:10

It was hotter than a firecracker. Today, forty-seven years ago, I became the luckiest guy in the world. Oh, I know, Joe DiMaggio thought he was but that is because he didn’t marry Judy. You see, on June 26, 1976, this Florida cracker married one fine Georgia peach—Judy Dawn Allen thus ensuring my standing as the luckiest guy in the world. Looking back over the past four and a half decades, plus two years, I am amazed just how good God has been.

I met Judy at church one Wednesday night. I was stationed at the nearby Air Force base. She was only sixteen and I was twenty. It had to be a miracle that her parents even let me near her but then…I did meet her at church. Smile. I walked into church that Wednesday night, saw her standing in a group of about five or six young ladies, and well, that was that. I got her phone number from a friend who attended that same church, gave her a call, asked her out on a date and she said yes. That yes led to another yes on April 1, 1975, when she agreed to marry me and that yes led to an “I Do” on June 26, 1976. How about that?

Recently, someone at church wished me a happy anniversary and I told them the secret to being married for 47 years. All you have to do is marry someone like my wife Judy. She loves God and Jesus, loves her family, loves people but most of all—she loves me. I never could figure that part out. I am certain I am not worthy of her love but still she scoops it out in large quantities. She loves me when I get it right and when I don’t. She loves me when it is hard and loves me when it is easier. Amazing.

As amazing as all that is—the way God loves me is even bigger and better. He too lavishes His love out on me, and He too loves me regardless of my performance. On my best day, He loves me and on my worst day, He loves me still and a zillion years from today He will still be loving me. His word says, “This is real love—not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.” Now that is what I call love. That is what I call amazing.

Looking back, hot or not, I’m grateful for that summer day in South Georgia when an amazing God allowed me to marry an amazing young lady. Over forty-seven years, walking together, and all but five of them as a pastor’s wife, well, I’ll forever be indebted to the One who gave her to me and to her for saying yes. He took care of me then and He will take care of me for all the tomorrows yet to come. As always,, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

A Grits Love Story

Posted on February 14, 2023February 13, 2023 by Dewayne Taylor

Then the Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is just right for him.” Genesis 2:18

It happened just like that. I love grits…a lot. I know some of you have no idea what grits are and have never tried them. If you are from the North, I understand. If you are from the South, well, that’s just inexcusable. The problem with grits is that people want to mess with them by adding things like sugar and milk. Listen…you don’t mess with Texas, and you don’t mess with grits. When you add those two things to grits it changes their DNA and whatever it becomes is no longer grits. It may be the same consistency, but sugar and milk rob grits of their heart and soul.

There are things you can add to grits. The first three things on the list are salt, pepper and butter. Grits were meant to be seasoned so don’t think a sprinkle of this, or a dash of that will get the job done. You need to grab the saltshaker and get serious and do the same thing with the pepper. Someone will say that salt is bad for your blood pressure. Well, some things are worth the sacrifice. The other things that bring grits to life are bacon, cheese and amazingly, shrimp. I’m telling you…grits are not the breakfast of champions…grits are the champion of breakfast. If you learn to eat them right…you will never go back and the only question you will ask is, “Why did it take me so long?

I should have asked that question sooner in another season of my life. It was late summer of 1974 and I was coming out of a relationship that had gone on way too long. It was just time for it to end and it did. I was in the Air Force and trust me an Air Force base nine miles from town in South Georgia can be a lonely place. Imagine a bowl of grits without the salt, pepper, and butter and that was me. And then on a Wednesday night I decided to go to a local church. Now I had done church all of my life, but walking into a strange church, by myself, on a Wednesday night, was not in my comfort zone. But this bowl of grits needed some seasoning. So, I went hoping I would meet someone who might add some seasoning to my life. And, just like that, it happened.

That night, I walked in the side door of the church and there was a small group of young ladies standing by the piano. One, and only one, caught my eye. Her name was Judy Allen, and that night was the beginning of a love story that has now stretched into a 46-year adventure of life and love. I guess she was a little too young and maybe I was a little too old, but it was a different time and the bottom line…we fell in love. That Georgia peach stole my heart and has never given it back. I never thought of it this way, but I guess grits and peaches go together after all.

Through the decades and years, we have journeyed together…sometimes across town and sometimes across the world. We built a legacy together that includes our three daughters, their husbands, and our grandkids…all eight of them. We first served our country together as an Air Force family and then served our God as a team—side by side in four different churches over 39 years. At each stop, I was the grits, and she was the seasoning. She was and is a gifted servant in her own right, but she was also the salt, pepper, and butter that made me a better bowl of grits, a better man…a better pastor. I fully understand what God meant when He said in Genesis, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is just right for him.” Well, thank you God for that one.

Grits (what I write not the ones you eat) is just one more example of her seasoning me—encouraging me. She had been nudging me for years to write and I simply wouldn’t listen. And then COVID came along and on a whim, I wrote a very short story and posted it and almost a year later my fingers are still mashing keys. What you may not know is that Judy once again was there to season my frail attempts. She developed the blog and the Facebook page, and she proofs my words then designs the graphics. She adds flavor to Grits—and our life and our ministry.

So, on purpose and without apology, let me tell her and you, just how much I love her and how grateful I am for the seasonings she has brought to my life. There are two things I know. First, I can’t imagine what life would have been if I hadn’t gone to church that night. See, you oughta go to church! But second, I can’t imagine what life would have been if this particular someone, by God’s amazing grace, hadn’t walked with me all these years. It seemed she always knew just how much salt, how much pepper and how much butter to add to this ole bowl of grits…and I love her for it.

So, there you go. It’s a grits love story. If you’ve tried grits (the kind you eat…not the ones you’re reading) and didn’t like them…you probably just didn’t have them seasoned right. You might want to give them another try. And if you have someone in your life that, honestly, just feels a little bland, like grits without the good stuff, don’t give up on them. Go ahead and be the seasoning in their life. You might be amazed, just like I was, how a little salt, a little pepper, and some butter can make a bowl of ground corn taste amazingly good. Oh, and then, don’t forget to also thank God because He’s the One who made it all possible anyway. I’ve learned, and I am still learning, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

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

Laughter in the Rain

Posted on June 25, 2021June 24, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

Teach us to number our days carefully so that we may develop wisdom in our hearts.” Psalm 90:12

It was a rainy afternoon in South Georgia. I had met this girl, this Georgia peach, a few weeks ago and I was stuck fast. From the moment I laid eyes on her I wanted to get to know her more. So I made a call, she said yes, we had a first date and well, the rest is history. From that first date came a marriage of 45 years. She was young and I was a little too old, but love has a way of overcoming those kind of things—especially with God in the mix.

So, we were about five or six weeks into our journey. We had been to church, something we would do together virtually every week of every year of our togetherness. It was a cloudy afternoon and rain was in the forecast. I’m not sure how, but it had to be her knowledge of the area, we decided to drive up and over to Reed Bingham State Park. It was more something to do than an adventure, but it left a tattoo on our hearts that remains today.

As we drove over to the park, it began to rain…nothing hard just a gentle Southern rain…the kind that waters the grass and makes flowers grow. Soon, we were at the park, and it was still raining. We decided that a little rain wasn’t going to stop us, and we struck off on a walk down one of the wet sand packed roads. It wasn’t long before we came upon some large puddles the size of a small pond. They weren’t from that day’s shower but a frog strangler sometime before. So we reached the point where we had to decide to turn back or go a little farther. We decided to go farther. To keep her dry from the puddles, she climbed on my back as we walked.

A little while later the rain picked up and with her still hanging on, we turned around and headed back to the car. We were getting wet, but we were young and in the midst of young love, so we laughed, we enjoyed. Too soon we were back in the car and ready to head home. We had left the radio tuned to one of the popular stations and as I started the car, the radio came to life and one of the new hits began to play. It was by Neil Sedaka, and was called, “Laughter in the Rain” and in that moment it became our song. And, to this moment, it remains our song.

Part of the words go, “Oh, I hear laughter in the rain, walking hand in hand with the one I love. Oh, how I love the rainy days and the happy way I feel inside.” What started as a song became our mantra—our way of doing life. We decided we would walk together, sunshine or rain, and we would do so…hand in hand. We also decided that we would love, not endure, the rain and the rainy days, that came our way. Oh, it isn’t always perfect, and she is better at it than me but slowly over the years we have learned the secret sauce of doing life is to walk hand in hand with each other and the “Rainmaker.”

Judy and I have been blessed with an incredible life. Over our four and a half decade, journey we have seen and experienced big chunks of the world, and have been blessed with three daughters and sons-in-law and eight grandchildren. We have loved serving God together as a team, watching as He made a difference in the lives of others. We don’t know how long the journey will go, but we are wanting to walk it together, hand in hand, loving the rainy days.

The Book that matters, the Bible, tells us that we should number our days that we can have a heart of wisdom. It’s not talking about numerics, but rather to value and see the value in each day. To know that rain or sunshine, each day is a gift from God…an opportunity to walk hand in hand together and with the “Rainmaker.” We’ve come to know and believe that He alone is worthy of our faith and trust and that no matter how light or hard the rainy days are, well, He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Family, Grace, gratitude, life, Southern born, thankful

Stonehenge

Posted on June 24, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save the lost.” Luke 19:10

Roy Smith Allen was a genuine, authentic, real-deal Southern good ole boy. I met him on the road to falling in love with his daughter. I can remember virtually every detail of meeting Judy but Roy, well, its like one minute he wasn’t there and the next he was. I met Judy at her church on a Wednesday night. I walked in the side door and she was standing with a group of five or six girls. It was as if the others weren’t even there. She stole the show…and my heart.

I found out that when I started dating Judy, I also started dating her family. They were a crazy bunch of fun-loving people who turned every get together into a ruckus of stories and one-uppers. Right in the middle of the craziness was Roy. Well, for some reason, Roy took a shine to me. Judy will tell you that both of her parents liked me more than her. That probably wasn’t true. But I guess they trusted me because truth be known she was a little too young and I was a little too old. But here we are forty-four years later so we must have met somewhere in the middle.

Roy was a hard core, church going, deacon. He worked for the county as the superintendent of roads and had been the assistant warden at the county work camp. He had a gun…he carried a gun. He told Judy and I upfront he didn’t believe in pre-marshall (translated premarital) sex. We both agreed with that so the gun stayed in the holster which was a good thing.

About nine months after I started dating Judy, I asked her to marry me. It happened to be on April Fool’s Day which was kinda funny. But I was dead serious and happily she said yes. So, by now Roy had become Pops to me. So I knew I had to ask him if I could marry Judy. After his first heart attack, his doctor suggested he begin a walking regimen. One evening I joined him walking around the track at the park and I said, “Pops, I would like to marry Judy.” It wasn’t a question but it was a statement that needed a response and he gave one. “No you don’t, boy.” Pops called me “boy” a lot. It wasn’t derogatory but more akin to him calling me “son.”

I persisted and said, “No really, I want to marry Judy.” He stoically gave the same answer, “No you don’t, boy.” Well, I can’t remember how many times we bantered back and forth but eventually I took it as a yes. We were officially engaged…as soon as I could afford a ring.

Somewhere along the journey, her parents allowed me to stay in the spare bedroom at their house on weekends. The base was about twenty-five miles away so it seemed to make some sense. Pops liked to get up early and work hard and I became the “young buck” of his Saturday operations . He was building a shed about 20 miles out in the country and he saw in me some free labor. So, he would come in the bedroom at about 4:30 am and declare, “Time to get up, boy.” I would groggily roll out of bed. We would head to the Gold Plate Restaurant for a hearty breakfast with hot, strong coffee and then head to the building site where I wished I hadn’t eaten quite so much.

Pops had acquired some huge, like 10×10 inch, used bridge timbers from the county. While he supervised, I began digging holes and setting these monstrous beams. Then, we (make that me) had the pleasure of trying to hoist them up to form the roof. Well, it near-bout killed me. We never finished the building and I am sure forty-four years later those timbers are probably still standing like some sort of South Georgia Stonehenge.

In the fall of 1975, at church one morning, I went from being a church goer to a Jesus follower. That day I finally figured out that being religious was not the same as having a relationship with Jesus. It was and is a big deal. Everyone was really happy that I had made that commitment. There were plenty of hugs and words of affirmation but none matched Pop’s. He simply said, “I knew there was something wrong with you, boy.” It was apparent Pops wasn’t gifted in the affirmation department. But that was Roy…that was Pops. I was pretty sure he loved me and I know loved him…especially since he didn’t shoot me.

So, about a year later, Judy and I were married and in spite of a bad heart he was there to walk her down the aisle. When Judy and I were assigned to Germany, Pops flew there twice to see us. When we were assigned to Missouri, here came Pops. He came out to see our new daughter and his new granddaughter, Rebecca. And then just six weeks later he was apparently working in his backyard there in South Georgia and sat down to rest. Sometime during the break, Jesus came and took him home. Pops was gone but the legend, the legacy lives on.

Roy Smith Allen had a lot of rough edges, a lot of warts, if you will. But buried somewhere beneath the rough exterior was a good hearted man. I’m sure he required a lot of God’s grace but don’t we all? None us could make the cut for heaven based on our own merit. We all are just like Pops…sinners in need of a graceful, loving God. The Book says that Jesus came to seek and to save lost people. People like Roy, people like me and people like you. And if we are willing to be found, He is will to forgive us and invite us into His family. In his backward way, that is what Pops did. Every time he called me “boy” he was calling me “son.” I like that. So if you find yourself bumping along in life, rough around the edges, you might try what Pops tried. It wasn’t church…it was Jesus. I know it changed my life. It didn’t make me perfect but it did make me forgiven. And the best part? In this crazy, upside-down world, He is always there. I can always go to Him, rest in Him. I know, He’s got this.