Matthew 7:12 – Grits with Grace

Family, life, pride, Scripture, Southern born

Blindspot

Posted on November 21, 2025November 10, 2025 by Dewayne Taylor

“So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.” Matthew 7:12

I was blindsided. It was time for a haircut. Now that is a relative statement—you know like relatively speaking. I had four brothers and now only I am left. All the brothers had hair—lots of hair. No receding hairlines, no clogged drains in the shower, nothing but lots of hair. And then there is me. While my daddy had a receding hairline he never lost his hair. Well, that was them and that was him but it sure isn’t me. It started with a receding hairline, then it became a thinning receding hairline and then it became a full blown retreat. I now have a really, long forehead. I don’t know if it is still in full retreat or if we are holding our own. The jury is still out. So, I’m trying to say that a haircut for me is a relative statement. I am grateful that getting a haircut still doesn’t mean getting a solitary hair cut, but I do remember the days when there were more than a few.

Now, I keep my hair short for two reasons. First, I have grayish white hair and I found it doesn’t look quite as white if I keep it shorter. Second, and I can only guess, it is a carryover from my days with my Daddy and in the military. For the first 18 years of my life my Daddy made sure I kept my hair short (even though it was the late sixties and early seventies). After him, it was twelve years in the Air Force, and they made sure it was short. Well, after all those years of short hair I figured, why change now? So, the bottom line is about once a month I go see my hair cutter person. Even after a month, my hair is sparse and less than an inch long.

So, I was in the chair and she was clipping and buzzing along. She has cut my hair for the last 20 or so years so she knows the landscape pretty well. Well, she said, “Dewayne did you hit your head or something?” I assured her I hadn’t, but she was sure something had happened. Well, my wife Judy had gotten me a pair of virtual reality goggles for Christmas. I had used them the night before and the straps fitted pretty tightly around my head, so I assured her that was what she was seeing. Then she said, “Well, let me show you.”

Before I knew it, there was a mirror in my hand, and she turned me around so I was looking in the mirror. I could see something I had never seen—the back of my head. Oh.My.Goodness. You see, I naturally assumed that my…oh, how I hate to use the word…baldness stopped at the front of my head. I also assumed that I had the mane of Samson in the back. I was wrong. There in the mirror I got to see what everyone else saw all the time. While it wasn’t totally a moon scape let’s just saw it was pretty thin. You might say it was wavy—you know, the hairs there had plenty of space to wave at one another.

Well, I gasped and bless her heart, she did her best to assure me it wasn’t that bad—the average person looking wouldn’t even notice. She said you would have to look real close to see it. She was so nice, but I had the strangest feeling she was not telling the whole truth. And in that moment I realized that my days of teasing people with a halo at the back of their head were probably over. I had reached a new level of membership in the hair club—or perhaps more appropriately, the “no hair club.” What struck me as funny was I had no idea. I really was blindsided. I couldn’t see what any other person walking behind me could see. To make matters worse, let’s just say that I’m not the tallest guy in the neighborhood. That means everyone taller than me, which is probably 90% of the adult population, had a great view of my impending hair doom.

Well, that started the wheels turning in my mind. I wondered just how many other things are there about me that I am totally blind to? How many times did my impatience at the grocery store show? How many times did my glaring eyes betray my true feeling when some nice “little, old lady” pulled out in traffic in front of me? How many times was my sarcasm not as veiled as I thought? Oh my!

So, I think I might have learned something valuable at the hair cutting place that day. It wasn’t that I should get a hand mirror so I can see the back of my head. No, it was the fact that I should, we should, be aware that people are always deserving of our courtesy, our kindness, our compassion. If we are Jesus people, especially if we are Jesus people, we should make a conscious decision to be authentically nice. The golden rule, which is found in the Bible, says “So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.” Truth is it is not always easy to be kind, but it is always right. And when it seems especially hard, don’t panic. God is good at being kind so you can rest assured that He will help you. After all, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Family, food, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, travel, Trials, wisdom

Their Best

Posted on January 27, 2023January 23, 2023 by Dewayne Taylor

Do to others whatever you would like them to do to you. This is the essence of all that is taught in the law and the prophets.” Matthew 7:12

It was our second trip to West Africa. We were back on the dry sandy desert fringes of Niger doing a food distribution. It was such a barren land made worse by an ongoing drought. The people would do just about anything for food. While we had prepared to feed many of the people, truthfully, we couldn’t feed them all. So, families with the greatest need were chosen. We would go to their villages the day before the food distribution and meet with them and do some registration work before the distribution.

It is hard to describe the poverty there. Simply put, most of the people had nothing. They had little food and little water but something amazing happened everywhere we went. We would gather with the leaders and the people in their village. We would give them a word of greeting and then they would greet us. All of this, of course, was done with the help of interpreters. After a while, we would complete the necessary paperwork and finalize details for them to come to main village the next day. And then, it would be time to say goodbye for the day.

This was a repeat of the greeting we had done when we arrived. They would graciously thank us for coming and we would graciously thank them for allowing us to come. Then it happened…every time. These incredibly poor people would present us with gifts. Often it was some sort of leather craft decorated according to their customs and their people group. It was such a gracious act of kindness and we always left feeling incredibly blessed. They who had so little gave to us who had so much.

It was the last appointment of the day. We drove and drove—it was more than several kilometers. When we arrived at the site, we realized it wasn’t a village it was just a meeting place. The people we were to meet were truly nomads. Someone had set up a large tent made from skins and rugs to offer some shade from the searing Saharan Desert sun. When we arrived, there was one or two people there but soon many more arrived and the area under the tent was filled with five white guys and a bunch of men whose skin was tough like leather and tanned a deep brown. Then we really saw it.

In the middle of the tent and now surrounded by people sat a medium sized metal bowl. In the bowl was what can only be described as dirty, brown water. As I looked at the bowl you could see something swimming. It was the larva from some sort of insect native to Niger. I assumed that perhaps this was for us to wash our hands though I was quite certain my hands were cleaner than the water in the bowl. I would soon find out that the water wasn’t for washing.

Soon the greeting started. We thanked them for letting us come and they thanked us for coming. Then someone in their group made the presentation. It wasn’t a brightly colored trinket…it was the gift of water. And the brown water in the bowl wasn’t for washing hands soiled by the West African dust. No, it was a portion of their precious drinking water. That brown water with larva swimming it in was what they drank every day, and they were offering something very precious to them—something they could ill afford to give.

Ordinarily, we would try and eat or drink what they offered, but our missionary knew, and we knew, that one drink of this water would make us very seriously ill. So, through the interpreter our missionary explained that while we deeply appreciated their kindness and generosity, we could not partake in the water for that reason. They certainly understood so the water remained throughout our visit. At the end we reversed the greeting process and climbed aboard our four-wheel drive for the long drive back to where we were staying.

The ride was quieter than normal. Each one of us was clearly aware of what had just happened. We all were pierced to our hearts over this act of immense generosity and the immense blessings that God had graciously poured on our lives. Mission trips tend to do this to anyone who travels to a third world country. There is always some kind of guilt over having so much while those you serve have so little. But understanding God’s grace and humbly serving others at least helps. But it always changes you. It always marks your life.

In my mind’s eye I can clearly see the bowl of water all these years later. I can still see the people coming through the gate after walking kilometers to get their food. I can still see them trying to manage the heavy bags of rice and millet. But something was missing. Not one person complained about the lack of a vehicle to carry their load. Each was just grateful to be able to eat that night. And, yes, we were changed again. I would like to think that a little of their gratitude rubbed off on us and that it still remains. I know we will never forget those eleven or twelve days in Niger.

You don’t have to go to Africa, or Haiti, or Nicaragua, or London, or China, or Bulgaria, or the Philippines or wherever to serve. Each of us are missionaries on a mission field and each of us can serve others…just like Jesus did. One day He was sitting on a hillside teaching the people and He said, “Do to others whatever you would like them to do to you. This is the essence of all that is taught in the law and the prophets.” It really is that simple. It won’t get you to heaven…God’s grace and faith in what Jesus did on the cross does that. But it is an opportunity to be like Him…to love like Him. It’s a tall order but don’t worry, you know that He’s got this too. Bro. Dewayne

Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Trials

Blinders

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

So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.” Matthew 7:12

I was blindsided. It was time for a haircut. Now that is a relative statement—you know like relatively speaking. I had five brothers and only two of us are left. All the brothers had hair—lots of hair. No receding hairlines, no clogged drains in the shower, no nothing but lots of hair. And then there is me. While my daddy had a receding hairline, he never lost his hair. Well, that was them and that was him but it sure isn’t me. It started with a receding hairline, then it became a thinning receding hairline and then it became a full-blown retreat. I now have a really, long forehead. I don’t know if it is still in full retreat or if we are holding our own. The jury is still out. So, I’m trying to say that a haircut for me is a relative statement. I am grateful that getting a haircut still doesn’t mean getting a solitary hair cut, but I do remember the days when there were more than a few.

Now, I keep my hair short for two reasons. First, I have grayish white hair and I found it doesn’t look quite as white if I keep it shorter. Second, and I can only guess, it is a carryover from my days with my Daddy and in the military. For the first 18 years of my life my Daddy made sure I kept my hair short (even though it was the late sixties and early seventies). After him, it was twelve years in the Air Force, and they made sure it was short. Well, after 30 years of short hair I figured, why change now? So, the bottom line is about once a month I go see my hair cutter person. Even after a month, my hair is sparse and less than an inch long.

So, I was in the chair, and she was clipping and buzzing along. She has cut my hair for the last 15 or so years so she knows the landscape well. Well, she said, “Dewayne did you hit your head or something?” I assured her I hadn’t, but she was sure something had happened. Well, my wife Judy had gotten me a pair of virtual reality goggles for Christmas. I had used them the night before and the straps fitted tightly around my head, so I assured her that was what she was seeing. Then she said, “Well, let me show you.”

Before I knew it, there was a mirror in my hand, and she turned me around, so I was looking in the mirror. I could see something I had never seen—the back of my head. Oh.My.Goodness. You see, I naturally assumed that my…oh, how I hate to use the word…baldness stopped at the front of my head. I also assumed that I had the mane of Samson in the back. I was wrong. There in the mirror I got to see what everyone else saw all the time. While it wasn’t totally a moon scape let’s just saw it was thin. You might say it was wavy—you know, the hairs there had plenty of space to wave at one another.

Well, I gasped and bless her heart, she did her best to assure me it wasn’t that bad—the average person looking wouldn’t even notice. She said you would have to look really close to see it. She was so nice, but I had the strangest feeling she was not telling the whole truth. And in that moment, I realized that my days of teasing people with a halo at the back of their head were probably over. I had reached a new level of membership in the hair club—or perhaps more appropriately, the “no hair club.” What struck me as funny was I had no idea. I really was blindsided. I couldn’t see what any other person walking behind me could see. To make matters worse, let’s just say that I’m not the tallest guy in the neighborhood. That means everyone taller than me, which is probably 90% of the adult population, had a great view of my impending hair doom.