Greatest Generation – Grits with Grace

Family, friends, gratitude, life, loving others, Military memories, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials, USA, wisdom

Black Rock

Posted on March 22, 2023March 21, 2023 by Dewayne Taylor

You are my rock and my fortress.” Psalm 31:3

It was worth the wait. My wife Judy and I decided to hit the road for a quick trip to Dayton, Ohio. It all started when my son-in-law sent me a picture from the National Air Force Museum located in, wait for it, Dayton. Being an Air Force veteran, I had heard of it but had never taken the opportunity to go and see it. When he sent me a couple of pictures…I knew it was time. So, we loaded up and drove up and over and in about five hours we were there.

Let me just say it was worth every mile. The museum is housed in four huge hanger type buildings and each hanger held a different era of air history. The first was the period from the Wright brothers to World War I, the second was World War II, the third was the Korean and Cold Wars and finally the last was filled with Vietnam and the years following. Literally hundreds of aircraft were on display, and I was in awe. My favorite was World War II because, like so many, I admire what Tom Brokaw called “the Greatest Generation.” Their commitment and sacrifice were and still is amazing. While war is never romantic, the sight of these brave men and women and their flying machines, stirred powerful emotions of a time gone by.

Well, after the museum, we did what everyone does…eat. Using our GPS, we navigated our way to a large shopping area and saw a restaurant called “Black Rock.” We asked someone and they assured us it was very good, but they also said we probably couldn’t get in. We decided to try anyway. Well, we could get in, but it was going take about 45 minutes. So, we added our names to the wait list and waited. Sure enough, about 45 minutes later, the text came, and we were in.

The place was packed and loud so were excited to see what all the uproar was about. Our server came to our table, and she explained what they are most famous for…a black rock. Here’s the deal. If you order steak, they bring it to your table…raw. They also bring a square chunk of black lava rock that is heated to—wait for it—755 degrees. The raw meat is sizzling in the middle of the rock, and you get to cook your own steak. You slice off a bite size piece of steak, lay it on the 755-degree rock in a puddle of melted garlic butter and in about 15 seconds for each side—you are ready to eat. It was awesome.

With a special creamy steak sauce for dipping, well, it really was just delicious. I know and you know the rock idea is a hook, a crowd getter but it was more. There was something special about slicing and cooking your meat on that super-heated rock. While the food tasted so good—the experience was more—much more. I think my man genes were set to high as I sliced a chunk of raw meat and cooked it for my wife. I felt like the hunter, gatherers of old. I could almost hear the wolves howling in the distance.

Now trust me. If they had brought that piece of meat already cooked, I would have said it was a pretty good steak, but the rock changed everything. The sound of sizzling meat changed everything. In other words, some things change everything and that was true that night, but it is truer every day, in every way, and everywhere—when that Rock is Jesus. Just like the rock changed the meal, the presence of the Rock of Ages in our lives makes all the difference in the world.

And get this—it had to be the rock. A small charcoal fire, nope. A propane gas burner, nope. An electric burner, nada. It was the rock, that 755-degree, meat sizzling, butter melting rock that changed it all. And I want you to know that it is the Rock of Ages that can burn away all the dross of sin that separates us from God. If you are willing to let Him, He wants, He waits to forgive and give you a fresh start. It is something that being good, that church, that religion just can’t do. It is a singular act of God and His grace that makes the difference. It is what caused the writer of Psalms to pen, “You are my rock and my fortress.”

So, if you ever see a restaurant named, “Black Rock” whip in an experience the cooking power of a 755-degree piece of black lava rock. And, if you find yourself down and out and out of luck, remember to look for the Rock of Ages. He is waiting to forgive you and call you His own. He is waiting to change your life forever. He’s waiting to whisper, “I’ve got this. Bro. Dewayne

fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Military memories, prayer, thankful, Trials, USA

The Longest Day

Posted on June 6, 2022June 5, 2022 by Dewayne Taylor

But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, will teach you all things and remind you of everything I have told you.” John 14:26

It was more than the title for a movie. One by one they are slipping away. Who? That generation newsman and author Tom Brokaw called the greatest generation. This generation was born and lived through the Great Depression. Their words and testimonies fill pages and pages of books and blogs. Words like, “we were poor but didn’t know it” or like “we had nothing but each other…and that was more than enough” ring of their wisdom and courage.

But it would seem that living and surviving the great depression was just a warmup for their finest hour…that would begin with the bombing of Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. That day, the day that President Franklin Roosevelt said, “would live in infamy,” marked the start of our country’s direct involvement in World War II. Before it was all over, almost four years later, America would see 1,076,245 causalities. That number includes 291,557 combat dead, 113,842 who died from other causes and 670,840 wounded.

Last Memorial Day I heard a phrase I had heard before but this time it seemed to shout at me. It simply said, “Freedom isn’t free.” As I listened that day, I was freshly amazed at this generation of men and women, 16.7 million of them, who served during World War II. They marched off, self-forgotten, to strange lands and places and many of them would never come home. Like I said, I was amazed.

Today, June 6th, 2022, is the 78th anniversary of what has been called, “The Longest Day.” It was the day that thousands of soldiers, airmen and sailors, with thousands of ships and planes invaded Normandy, France to begin the retaking of Europe from the grip of Nazi Germany and the Axis powers. The courage of those men who stormed those beaches is legendary. Imagine with me small boats, called Higgins boats, riding the waves towards Normandy with shells exploding all around. Imagine with me seeing many, too many, of these boats literally disappearing after taking a direct hit from enemy shells. Imagine knowing that each of these boats carried several dozen men. Sacrifice. Courage. Amazing.

There probably are not words that can describe that day. Films like, “The Longest Day” and “Saving Private Ryan” have tried to tell the story but though their efforts are valiant they always fall short. That day, 6,603 Americans were killed, missing, or wounded. Imagine again, as officers knocked on doors and telegrams arrived, “The Defense Department regrets to inform you…” Freedom truly isn’t free. I know we know but I only hope we won’t forget. Yet in most minds, this observance of “The Longest Day” won’t garner a passing thought.

When the children of Israel of Old Testament fame were crossing over into the Promised Land, they were told to take twelve stones from the middle of the Jordan River. The sole purpose of these stones was to remind them of the miracle and the day. That way when years later and their memories were foggy, they had the stones to remind them. I’m not sure what stone of reminder we need but it might be as simple as a visit to the cemetery and taking the time to READ the markers and stones of those who served. It might be as simple as taking your kids with you to show them and teach them about sacrifice and courage. Unfortunately, it may not be taught any place else.

December 7, 1941. June 6, 1944. These are only two dates of many that are worthy of remembrance…but they are a start. Jesus knew we would need help remembering about the things of God. That is why He said, “But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and remind you of everything I have told you.” And who knows, perhaps that same Holy Spirit will help us remember to be grateful for the sacrifice others have made on our behalf. In fact, I’m sure He will help because that is what He does best…help. Like everything else, I’m sure, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

The Emerald Buccaneers

Posted on March 30, 2022March 29, 2022 by Dewayne Taylor

The Lord is good to everyone. He showers compassion on all His creation.” Psalm 145:9

We were called the Emerald Buccaneers. There are parts of my childhood puzzle that pieces are just missing..and this is one of them. As I have mentioned in several stories, the Taylor tribe was not the richest tribe on the block. My Daddy worked at the Naval Air Station as a jet engine mechanic. He worked hard and he worked steady so that we could have a roof over our heads and food on the table. Momma mostly took care of the tribe and, trust me, that was a full time job. But the bottom line was that often…money was tight. And then there is this.

I remember one summer, somehow and some way, Momma signed us up for swimming lessons. They were held at the American Legion which was three or four miles from our house. I have no idea how it happened. I’m sure it cost and I’m sure there wasn’t money in our limited economy, but we ended up at swimming lessons and I suppose that is how we ended up in the Emerald Buccaneers.

The Buccaneers were a drum and bugle corps sponsored by the same American Legion where we had swimming lessons. Now what is interesting is we had no affiliation with the American Legion and so I can only imagine that Momma was chatting with someone, and the topic came up and the next thing I know…I was an Emerald Buccaneer. I believe it must have been around the time I was in Junior High because that was the only time I was in band. My sisters, I believe, were majorettes. I played, or attempted to play, the baritone. As you can imagine, it was quite an adventure.

For the marching season, the Buccaneers would play and march in several parades. It was quite a big deal, and, in fact, I guess we were pretty good. I know this is weird but somehow, I was in junior high band for a couple of years and in the Buccaneers for a while but never really learned to read music…well, at least not very good. But somehow, I pulled it off and on weekends I would put on my fancy uniform that included a black buccaneer hat with a large white feather. I was a part of something bigger than me and I loved it.

Now this part is fuzzy but the sponsors for the Buccaneers arranged for us to be in a competition. We were in Jacksonville, Florida and the event was going to take place in Miami and, wait for it, for some reason, Momma let us go. Now it was a big deal when the Taylor tribe left the county, so it was going to the moon for us to go to Miami…especially without Daddy or Momma. This can only mean two things. Momma trusted the chaperons and Momma trusted us. I don’t remember a whole lot about the trip or the competition only that Daddy and Momma made it happen. How about that?

There is a picture in a box somewhere that Momma took, and I am all dressed up in my uniform marching down the street…proudly playing, well, at least blowing on my horn. And that snapshot makes me smile. It reminds me once again of the extraordinary lengths my Daddy and Momma went to make our life adventurous. A member of the “Greatest Generation,” those heroes that did life through the Great Depression and then won World War II, once told me, “We were poor, but we didn’t know it.” Well, I’m not sure we were poor, but we could see it from the back porch. But this is what I do know…we didn’t know it. No, Momma and Daddy, somehow found a way for us to have and do. I love them for that.

I have another parent that found a way for me to have and do. Some ignore Him, some just call Him God, but I have the privilege of calling Him Father. He found a way for me to come into His family by sending His Son to die on a Roman cross. His sacrifice made my life possible. I know my parents sacrificed a lot for the Taylor Tribe, but nothing compares to what God did for me…and for you. As I look back as my life as a kid, I keep remembering the small things that Leslie and Alston did and being amazed at how big they seem now. I guess time adds perspective.

I know that is true with my Heavenly Father, my Dearest Daddy. As I look back on my life with all its adventures…I am amazed. He has indeed been so, so good to me and honestly, to you too. One of the authors of the Psalms said, “The Lord is good to everyone. He showers compassion on all His creation” and I have been around long enough to know that is true. I know I write a lot about God and His goodness and the fact that if we look closely enough, we will find reminders of His goodness. But I guess that is because it amazes me so.

Someone said there are two ways to live…that nothing is a miracle or that everything is a miracle. Do you know who said that? Albert Einstein. Turns out he was really smart…in more ways than one. So, enjoy this day and spend some time remembering the good and forgetting the difficult. Take the time to pause…and believe…that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne