listen – Grits with Grace

Family, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful

Just Fifteen Minutes

Posted on September 5, 2024September 4, 2024 by Dewayne Taylor

Now to Him who is able to do above and beyond all that we ask or think according to the power that works in us—to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.” Ephesians 3:20

Just fifteen minutes. I like stories…the ones I write and the ones I read. This one, or at least a part of it, fits the latter. The story tells the story of the beginning of a wildcat preacher named Billy Sunday. Now I just have to let you know I read this story several times and it wasn’t until later on that I realized it wasn’t about Billy Graham but Billy Sunday. Oh well…sometimes I amaze myself. Well, when Billy Sunday became a Christian as a young man, a fellow believer gave him some advice that he never forgot. He said, “Let God talk to you fifteen minutes a day through His Word. Talk to God fifteen minutes a day in prayer. Talk for God fifteen minutes a day.”

The other believer went on to say that if Billy would practice these things in his life as a Christian, no one would ever write the word backslider after his name. Well, it turns out that Billy Sunday followed this advice and became one of the most powerful evangelists in the history of the American church. God used his wildcat personality in his preaching but more importantly God used his heart. Those three 15-minute segments consistently used in his life changed his life for the rest of life.

So, what do you think? How could, how would our lives change if we were to allow God the floor and microphone in our lives to talk to us? While God sometimes uses other people to speak into our lives, and sometimes He uses life circumstances, most often God whispers to us, speaks to us, through His Word. Fifteen concentrated, uninterrupted minutes in His Word is a game changer. If you are like me, you will find giving Him the floor without interruption is a challenge. After all, too often, instead of listening we are just waiting for the other person to stop talking! So, let’s give God His fifteen minutes.

The second part of the formula is important too. Imagine you had just fifteen minutes to tell God what you wanted Him to know. How would you use the time? I imagine we would not only choose our words carefully but also the topics. We would use that time wisely. I think sometimes we are afraid of prayer—afraid we will mess it up. Remember this. Prayer is simply talking to God. You don’t need fancy words, a complicated formula or a gimmick. You just need to come to Him with an honest and sincere heart. Go ahead—He’s waiting.

The last fifteen minutes is equally important—telling others what God has done for us. I am certain we make talking about Jesus a lot harder than it should be. Often sharing is just a matter of telling our Jesus story to someone else. We share what He has done and how we are different because of Him. Just fifteen minutes times three and not only would it change us—we might just help change the world.

I think the most exciting part of all of this is the fact that we get to discover the amazing path that our amazing God has planned for us. I think Ephesians 3:20 says it best. It says, “Now to him who is able to do above and beyond all that we ask or think according to the power that works in us—to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.” Sounds to me like, “He’s got this!” Bro. Dewayne

Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, thankful, wisdom

Kitchen Wisdom

Posted on March 29, 2023March 28, 2023 by Dewayne Taylor

It was the duty of the trumpeters and singers to make themselves heard.” 2 Chronicles 5:13

They hang silently on the wall…shouting…with no one listening. We have lived at 217 West Poplar Street for almost twenty-three years. Given I’m a Baptist pastor that is quite amazing since we preachers don’t usually stay in one place that long. That might be why so many of us preachers are fond of Willie Nelson’s song, “On the Road Again.” You might wonder why we tend to move around, and the answer is three-fold. First, sometimes God says go, sometimes the people we serve say go and finally, sometimes we say go. There you go…no pun intended.

So, to live in one place for that many years means that we have hung around long enough to see our kids grow up and have kids, for sticks to become trees and flowers to not only bloom but multiply. As the years have gone by, we have painted the house, inside and out, a couple of times and redecorated more times than that. Furniture has come and gone and so have a lot of decorator items. You know how it is—tastes and styles change and of course we must occasionally keep up with the Jones.

Well, amidst all that change there are somethings that have hung around—and hung is a good word for it. As an example, we papered the main part of our kitchen, and it is still there today—two decades later. There are two reasons. First, we like it and second, we definitely do not like stripping wallpaper, so every time we think about changing it—-we just think about stripping it. Now hanging over the stove is something that we have had for a long time—in fact, it may have come with us from our previous home.

It is a three-dimensional wall plaque that, along with other things, has six words on it. I hadn’t really read it in a long time but this morning I happened to glance over at the stove and for the first time in a long time—well, I read it. Here’s what it says, “Live well, Laugh often and Love much.” Now that is a great mantra to live by. And for the past couple of decades, it has hung in the same place, over the stove, shouting its grand advice and yet, for the most part, no one listened.

Regardless…it is great advice. Think about it. Live well. Stop and smell the roses. Learn to appreciate the people who fill your life—especially the ones we call family. Take the time to admire a sunrise and sunset—like it was the first one you ever saw. Laugh often. Rediscover the fine art of laughing at a corny joke or the crazy antics of your dog or one of your grandkids. Sometimes we just need to laugh till we cry. Love much. Love the way you did when you first saw him or her. Love homemade ice cream like you did the first time you tasted it. Love God like the day He forgave you.

Someone said once, we need to learn to dance like no one is watching. I like that—especially considering I can’t dance. But for any of this to happen, we must learn to listen to the things that matter and yet are so easy to ignore. Like the plaque over the stove. Like the song the frogs sing after a spring rain. Like the symphony the stars lift to the One who made it all. Starting today, starting now, why not take time to read or perhaps just listen to all that is going on around us. No, not the static, not the noise, but rather the music of life. The words go something like this—live well, laugh often, and love much.

There’s an interesting verse tucked away in the Old Testament part of the Bible. It says, “And it was the duty of the trumpeters and singers to make themselves heard.” We learn that it was their job to be heard but it was the people’s job to listen…and respond. The music of life, laugher and love are all around us—we just need to listen. My Dearest Daddy sometimes, well a lot of the time, must remind me to slow way down and listen as His creation sings and as He whispers, “I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Family, forgiveness, friends, gratitude, life, Scripture, thankful, Trials

Chatting With the Father

Posted on January 17, 2023January 16, 2023 by Dewayne Taylor

And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper.” 1 Kings 19:12

“What was that, again?” We had a winter storm and though it wasn’t as nasty as they said it was going to be it was still more than enough to warrant staying off the roads and in the house. Turns out, it was a two day in the house deal. Well, we had an invitation to go eat dinner with a couple on Friday night, but it looked like the weather was going to nix that. Another good friend was invited to go and frankly, I was disappointed when it looked like it wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t sure the roads would be safe. I mean, this was one of those good invites…great friends and great food. So, my wife Judy and I were thrilled when she called and said it looked like the roads were going to be clear enough…so Friday night we were off and running.

Judy sat up front and I was in the backseat. Our friend owns one of those Toyota off road things…you know, the kind that would be at home in a safari in Africa so trust me the roads were not going to stop us. I told her we should go four-wheeling before the night was over. Smile. So, anyway, soon we were on our way. Now, her vehicle may be made to conquer Africa, but it is not made for conversation…especially for those in the backseat. I was content to just ride but several times a question or something came from the front seat, directed my way. The result was a “Huh,” or a “What?”

You see, first, I do have some hearing loss. There are some frequencies that I hear perfect and some that I just don’t. Usually, questions from my wife fall in the latter category. Second, her Africa eating vehicle had those tires that like to sing…loudly. Third, there was a pretty good portion of wind noise and finally, I was in the back seat, and they were in the front seat facing away from me. The bottom line, there wasn’t going to be a lot of conversation…at least not any that involved me. It was true going…and it was true coming home. All that was fine by me except when it was a question requiring an answer and then well, we were back to the “Huh,” and “What’s.” I must confess it was just a hair frustrating.

I wasn’t surprised…with that much interference a person with good hearing would probably have struggled. You put enough interference out there and nobody can hear anything. That is true with people and wait for it, it is equally true with God. I believe in prayer…not the wish list kind but the kind where I get to know God better. I believe in prayer…the kind where I can chat with my Dearest Daddy. No, it is not formal, but it is respectful. The one thing I forget too often is that it is a conversation, going both ways. I do the part of me speaking very well…I just don’t do the part of me listening as well. Sometimes I forget that He probably has more to say to me than I do to Him. How interesting.

Another thing is that interference thing. Just like my experience in my friend’s “over the river and through the woods” vehicle, so too often there is plenty of interference between me and my Father. Yesterday’s sin and failures, today’s plans and worries about tomorrow all tend to speak loudly in my mind and heart and if I am not careful…drown out His voice. You see God often is more of a whisperer than a shouter and trust me His whispers are worth hearing. One time, He was talking with one of His prophets. There were all kind of big things going on, a fierce wind, fire, and earthquake and yet God didn’t speak through those…instead, He whispered.

So let me encourage you to take the time to get away, get quiet and get still. When you get there have a chat…not filled with big and flowery words but words from a sincere heart spoken directly to a Dearest Father who loves you more than you can imagine. Then be sure and give Him a moment or two speak into the conversation. Listen carefully for He might speak softly. He will whisper His love and probably just assure you that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Family, food, gratitude, life, Scripture, wisdom

I’ve “Bean” Educated

Posted on October 6, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

Don’t be misled—you cannot mock the justice of God. You will always harvest what you plant.” Galatians 6:7

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. Oh wait–that opening line is already taken. Well, it was just over ten years ago now but I well remember the night. Judy was out of town and I was at the church. We were sponsoring a dinner for the football team. I wanted to help but, well, it didn’t go to well. It is a known fact that I can’t be trusted with a power tool of any sorts. It just doesn’t go well. Apparently you can add kitchen appliances to that list.

I love being a fixer. When one of my grandkid’s toys would break, they would bring it to Papa—they fixer. I love being the hero. And, I love to help. It’s in my DNA. WelI, that night I volunteered to help the head cooker person get a large pan of baked beans out of the convection oven at church. It was in one of those pans made out of formed aluminum. When I volunteered, I could see the concern in the head cooker person’s eyes—for an expert this was no deal. For a preacher who wasn’t allowed to use power tools—it was death valley.

“Dewayne”, she said, watch the bottom of the pan—it can collapse if you aren’t careful.” She went on, “You might want to put a sheet pan under it for support.” Well, Mister “I -Know-It-All” said, “No deal, I can handle it.” So, I reached up, I lifted it and in a moment of time…a moment that will live in infinity…the pan collapsed and my lower left arm was baptized in a tsunami of scalding, hot baked beans. The pain was instantaneous and it was intense. Can someone say “ouch?”

Well, I immediately used my other hand to wipe some of the beans off (not too smart since I burned that hand too) and ran to the sink and started running water over it. The bottom line is I ended up with second degree burns, a working knowledge of how not to take beans out of the oven and several other good life lessons added to my repertoire of knowledge. You might say I have “bean” educated.”

Perhaps the first lesson is this. No matter how well you do something the wrong way, it probably isn’t going to work out for your benefit. When King David and his crew were moving the ark in the Old Testament, they decided to use a cart instead of doing it God’s way. The result was the oxen stumbled and a man reached out to steady the ark and was instantly struck dead by God. Now don’t blame God—the rule was you don’t touch the ark. Period. But when you do something in a wrong way you open yourself up to a whole bunch of circumstances.

Second, listen to the experts. The head cooker person I was helping was a professional cook. She knew the danger–I didn’t. I was a he-man, bean toting pastor–that is until “I spilt the beans” (no pun intended!) I thought I could handle it—and I could not. I’m not sure why we wrestle this around but isn’t it funny how God, the ultimate expert, offers us advice–and we tend to ignore it. And the pain that it causes can rival or exceed second degree burns. Listen to God. He knows best.

Finally, get ready for the lasting effects of the consequences. I burned my arm on a Tuesday and it took days, lots of days, to even begin to feel normal. Oh, and did I mention that I didn’t go to the doctor because I was going to tough it out? You see, pride is a bad deal. I guess I was embarrassed enough and I just didn’t want to explain to the doctor about how unwise I was. So, I just dealt with it. Fortunately I did bump into him later and he saw the bandage, checked it out, asked the inevitable questions, and gave me some awesome medicine for burns. It did heal and left only minimal scarring to gently remind me to listen before I act. It taught me that whatever you sow…you reap. It taught me that—every bad choice we make carries some sort of consequences. Choose wisely, my son, choose wisely.

So, ten years later, there is still a twinge of regret over that fateful Tuesday night. I still shake my head and wonder how in the world I could do something so, so, stupid. Everyone once in a while when we are having a dinner at church, I will say, “Hey, head cooker person, do you remember…” and before I can finish the sentence we both nod knowingly. I was afraid I was going to swear off bake beans forever but that that didn’t happen but I will never look at a pan of beans the same way. And I will forever have a greater respect for a convention oven set on 350 degrees.

As you journey along and you are faced with decisions and crossroads and someone suggests maybe going this way or that or doing it this way or that—take a moment, pause and listen to their advice—especially if it involves baked beans. And if that voice is a gentle whisper from the Whisper, definitely stop and listen. He will probably be helping you avoid some needless pain or letting you know you can rest in Him. He will be whispering, “I’ve got this.”

Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life

A Really Bad Idea

Posted on October 2, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in faithful love.” Psalm 103:8

It was just a bad idea. Each of us have times when we do something and from the get go we know it was just a bad idea. Yesterday’s story of me at age seven trying to ride a 26 inch bicycle was just one of many. And these bad ideas usually bear the fruit of bad endings.

I have a really good friend who manages a local restaurant. Before COVID, we would get together once a week and have breakfast at the restaurant. Since COVID we still try and get together for coffee and perhaps a pastry fresh out of the oven. Suffering isn’t all bad, is it? Well, I was famous for ordering different things for breakfast. One was the delicious “preacher stack.” It consisted of a slice of toast, an over-easy egg, a slice of cheese, a couple of slices of soft bacon, a small serving of hash browns (cooked crispy, of course), a second egg and finally the crowning touch, a smattering of gravy. For variety the hash browns were sometimes replaced with grits. Now, let me tell you, that was “shoot that thing” good. I do believe I might be the Rembrandt of breakfast. Sometimes.

You see, one time, about midway through the fall season, I got an idea. Unfortunately, it was a very bad idea. Now the problem with bad ideas is that sometimes they look good from one angle and horrible from the other. Well, this time I looked from the wrong angle. I told my friend, “Jeremy, I have an idea. I think I want to try chili and eggs for breakfast in the morning.” Now being the good friend that he was, he tried and tried to get me to change course. But at that time and from that angle it really sounded good. The key word there is “sounded.”

So the next morning Jeremy cooked up a batch of chili and I was served chili and eggs for breakfast. The first and second bite wasn’t too bad—weird, but not too bad. From there it went down hill and by the time I was done—I was done. I felt like I had swallowed a 12 pound bowling ball and that bowling ball stayed with me all day. In fact, it was a couple of days before I felt half normal. It was a very, very bad idea. He tried to warn me, but no. Oh boy, just the thought of chili and eggs makes my eyes cross.

Well, today I had a nice, innocent bad idea. I usually walk in the mornings but Judy and I decided to walk in the afternoon. That was ok—unusual, but ok. And that wasn’t the bad idea. We were going to walk on the bike trail so I thought I would wear an old pair of trail running shoes I had in the closet. “Why?” Well, I liked the way they looked and I liked the way they laced up (they had these cool speed laces) but that’s where the love affair ended. They weren’t very comfortable and the inside of the heel had long lost its padding. All that was left was a crater where the padding used to be surrounded by rough edges. Everything said, “Don’t wear those shoes.” Well, you know what I did. I wore the shoes anyway and it was indeed a very bad idea.

I had planned on only walking a couple of miles but ended up doing 3.6. Somebody say “wow.” Well, at about the 1.8 mile turn around point I noticed that the back of my left heel was starting to burn—to hurt. Remember the padding that was missing—well, those rough edges that remained were now slowly eating into my heel. And with every step it got worse. I was almost two miles from the car and it hurt, and it hurt, and it hurt. I found myself saying over and over again, “This was a really bad idea.” The problem was I realized it just a little too late. Well, about 10,000 steps later, I got back to the car and the shoes and I parted company—forever. Even sitting there I said it again, “That was a really bad idea.”

Well, in a while Judy got back to the car from her walk. As she came over to where I was sitting and noticed I had my shoes off. She made a comment about resting. I said, “Judy, do you remember the time I ate the chili and eggs?” She said, “Well, yes, but what has that got to do with today?” I said, “That was a really, bad idea and wearing these stinking shoes today was a really bad idea.” To make matters worse, when we had started walking I commented how much I liked the shoes and she remembered that. “But Dewayne, I thought you said you liked them?” Well, I liked the way they looked, I liked they way they laced up, but boy, I didn’t like the way they felt after walking. And trust me—that outweighed all the looks and all the cool laces.

Well, I wanted to tell you this story for a couple of reasons. First, don’t, do not, eat chili and eggs. What it does to your insides requires the intervention of the EPA. If you eat chili and eggs be prepared for a period of quarantine. Be prepared to camp in the “valley of the shadow of death.” It. Is. A. Bad. Idea. And if you are going to walk, remember to pick your shoes based on what is important not what is intriguing or flashy. At about the two mile point you will thank me. Trust me, I know.

One thing that I really like about the Bible is that it is filled with people just like me. People who didn’t always listen to God and people who ate chili and eggs and wore the wrong shoes. Real, live, people who didn’t always make the best choices. The thing I like about God is that He is so loving, patient and kind. Even when Adam and Eve ate “chili and eggs” in the garden and then wore the “wrong shoes” to cover it all up—He still loved them and still provided a way for them to be forgiven. They tried to do it their way, but God didn’t throw them under the bus and start over. And guess what? He doesn’t throw us under the bus either, and I am thankful. When we come to Him with our “chili and eggs,” “wrong shoes,” whining and complaining about how we got the “blisters” in our life, He is patiently waiting.

He is always there for us…bad ideas and all. You will find the Whisper whispering warnings, “don’t got there,” and encouraging you to “go the right way” and “do the right things”. That’s just the way He is. You know He could have carried me back to the car yesterday but I think there was a lesson that I needed to learn and a story I needed to tell. I finished the walk limping a little, but also a little wiser. As I sat there resting in Him I decided no more chili and eggs and no more worn out, flashy shoes. And the next time I find myself two miles from the car—well, I’ll just remember, He’s got this.

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

Faith and the Next Step

Posted on July 20, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” Hebrews 11:1 (NIV)

There’s hard…and there is really hard. You know, sometimes faith is easy. The way is clear, the path is obvious and you just do it. Sometimes, it just isn’t that way. Sometimes, all the time, faith requires…faith. So back in 2000, my family and I were living in Cobden where I was pastoring at Cobden First Baptist. We had been there over 14 years and it was one of those pastor/church relationships that don’t happen too often. We were in love with each other. It wasn’t a job…it was family. And then the phone rang.

It was a call from Don Billman wanting to know if I would be interested in pastoring in Harrisburg at Dorrisville Baptist. I had received calls like this before and the answer was always, “No thank you. We are really happy here.” This time, though, for some reason I said I would think about it—pray about it. It was almost frightening but I could hear the Whisperer whispering and I was pretty sure He was calling us to step out on faith. I tried to dismiss it, I tried to ignore it, but He kept whispering until I finally knew that it was a choice to obey or disobey.

After several weeks we arranged a date to go and preach a message, meet the folks at Dorrisville and to see if we should join our lives together. I had asked God for a pretty big favor. If this was in fact His will would He give me a 100% vote. Now in case you don’t know that was a pretty big deal, especially since we were talking about a couple of hundred people. Well, we met each other and they voted. It was 100%. I was taken aback as I realized it was time to step out on faith.

Pastors usually leave churches in one of two ways: readily or reluctantly. I was a reluctant prophet. I knew going was the right thing, but it wasn’t the easy thing. It was probably one of the HARDEST things I have ever done. We were excited about Dorrisville, but I knew I was leaving family in the process. Were there doubts? Yes. Were there assurances? Yes. And that is the point of this story.

A week or so after the vote and in the middle of the process of saying goodbye to Cobden, I was sitting outside of Target in Marion. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was having a talk with God that included two questions. “God, is this really you?” “God, what have I done?” There I sat with those two questions rolling around in my head. And then they showed up. It wasn’t two angels named Micheal or Gabriel but it was a couple of messengers from my Dearest Daddy. Their names were Tom and Leanne.

Tom and Leanne were members at Dorrisville—my new family. They walked up to the bench outside of Target and politely introduced themselves. “Hi we are Tom and LeAnne. We are members at Dorrisville and when we saw you sitting here we just HAD to stop and tell you how glad we are that you are coming to Dorrisville. We can’t wait for you to come.” I can’t tell you the emotion of that moment. It was a clear and confident assurance from the Whisperer. From that moment on I knew I was right where God wanted me and that was what mattered.

So we finished saying goodbye to our Cobden family and said hello to our new family at Dorrisville. On July 16, 2000 we had our first service there. I wish I could tell you how marvelously I led and how confidently I took the field but the truth is this rookie fumbled the ball a few times. But gratefully my new family was gracious and patient and suddenly here we are twenty years later. It has been a wonderful journey for me of learning and growing, serving, and sharing. Over the past two decades we have had so many times of celebration together. We have learned grace together. Someday, one day, the Whisperer will whisper again but until that time I am having the time of my life.

So if you find yourself at the edge of a cliff and you are not sure what to do next. If all the light is gone from your world and you are stuck…go ahead and take the next step. As Patrick Overton wrote, “When you have come to the edge of all light that you know and are about to drop off into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing one of two things will happen: There will be something solid to stand on or you will be taught to fly.” Whether it is the uncertainly of the corona virus, the unrest of our Country or the upcoming elections this Fall…we can rest in Him…for He surely has this.