Santa – Grits with Grace

Christmas, Family, Holidays, school days, Scripture, Southern born

My Christmas Santa

Posted on December 8, 2025 by Dewayne Taylor

“There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” Galatians 3:28

Santa Claus came to town. I cannot describe the excitement that filled my small world as Christmas grew near. I wish I could tell you it was all about Jesus, but in my boyhood world it was about presents and presents meant one thing—Santa Claus. Just like we have now, we had an attic in our World War II barracks turned into a house. And every year we would go into this magical place where special things lived and bring down the decorations. We would start early and stay late. While a white Christmas in Florida was never in the offing, a fun time was.

There were certain decorations that were staples in my world—I can see them in my mind’s eye like it was yesterday. One of those was Santa Claus. Now, we didn’t have the whole body but what we did have was his face. Yup! Our Santa face was about two feet tall and about 18 inches wide. It was made from molded plastic, so it was three dimensional and to me—it was real. When I got just a little older, I got to climb up on the roof (carefully for you concerned moms) and using some wire I would hang our Santa face on the front side of our chimney. But wait, it gets better! Our Santa face had a light bulb inside and would light up at night for all the world (at least so I thought) to see. It was magical.

I remember the vibrant colors—the red hat falling on one side of his peachy face, his full white beard, rosy cheeks, and his eyes. His eyes were bright blue and right in the middle of each pupil was a small hole so that brilliant white light could come peek out giving the illusion of just the right amount of twinkle. It was as if I could hear his hearty “ho, ho, ho.” It was more than a plastic face—for me it was the center of my Christmas world.

I’m not sure what happened to Santa. By the time Momma moved out of the house, I was in the Air Force. I’m hoping he is still living in someone’s attic, but probably he found his way to the trash pile…the victim of some relative that stopped believing. But he will always live in my mind. But in my grownup world, I stopped to question. Why did Santa look just like me? Why was his skin so peachy and his eyes so blue? If he loved all the kids around the whole world, it didn’t seem quite right that my Santa looked so…white. What about the African American kids, or the Asian kids, or the Hispanic kids? What about all the other kids? It didn’t occur to me so much back then but looking back…it does.

Well, having a peachy faced, blue-eyed Santa is one thing but what about a peachy faced, blue-eyed Jesus? It’s so funny that when I look at a nativity set, there’s a fair skinned, often blue-eyed Jesus. When I see a painting of Jesus in a church, (keeping in mind we don’t know what He looked like), He usually does have brown hair and eyes, but His skin is unusually fair for a Middle Eastern man. Honestly, perhaps this doesn’t matter too much unless we begin to think that Jesus is partial to us…no matter who “us” is. You see, just like the kids’ song says, “Jesus loves the little children, all the little children of the world.” Color never mattered to Him, or the side of town you lived in, or how rich or poor you were. He just loves people.

I loved the Santa that hung on my chimney just the way He was. He wasn’t making a statement…he was just saying, “Ho, ho, ho…Merry Christmas.” But let’s make sure our Jesus, or at least how we perceive Him, isn’t making an unintended statement either. There is a whole world out there who God loves and who Jesus died for. Paul, one of the guys who God used to write the New Testament, said, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” So, if we are a Jesus follower, let’s get the message out that Jesus loves people…period. And just as important…let’s make sure we get the message out that because He loves people…we love people.

The mission for every Jesus follower is the same—love God, love people. That’s what the Bible teaches, and I figure if we are going to follow Him, we should follow it. It’s not always easy to love people…especially in these crazy days but guess what? With Him nothing is impossible. That’s what the angel told the young, virgin Mary. God can pull anything off—including helping us love others. It’s just good to know that “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Christmas, Family, gratitude, Holidays, Scripture, thankful

Santa Claus Came to Town

Posted on December 25, 2024December 19, 2024 by Dewayne Taylor

“But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8

It is one of my favorite Christmas memories and this is a story I have told before and most certainly will tell again. I wish I could tell you the lengths that my Daddy and Momma would go to make sure we had a wonderful Christmas. Daddy had a good job, but with a bunch of kids, money was always tight. If I were guessing, we were probably at the bottom of the middle class. But somehow, they always managed to make sure every Christmas was a fairytale. One year stands out.

I was in the sixth grade and by now I had moved into the world of “nonbelievers”—if you get my drift. I remember the year Momma told me I could stay up later with the adults. I guess you could say I graduated. That night, we visited, talked, and ate. I’m sure Momma and some of the girls were in the kitchen preparing for Christmas Day. At about 11:00 pm, I remember Momma telling me that perhaps I should go ahead and go to bed. “Maybe,” she said, “Santa Claus might still be coming to town.” Ho, Ho, Ho.

Since it was so late, I didn’t put up much of a fuss. I never was much of a person to stay up late—until I started dating that is. Smile. So, off to bed I went. There were no visions of sugar drops dancing in my head—like I said, I was a “non-believer”. Our house was an old, former World War II barracks and was long and narrow. At one end was the kitchen, then a small dining room, next a living room with the bathroom and two small bedrooms, a breezeway and finally a garage turned bedroom. That is where I slept.

The next morning, sometime early, I got up. I’m not sure if someone woke me up or it was just time. I wandered through the breezeway into the living room where several of the family were sitting. I backed up to the old two-burner oil stove and warmed up a little. After just a few minutes, Daddy said, “Dewayne, go get me a cup of coffee.” Coffee was a big deal around the Taylor house, so it certainly was not an unusual request. I lingered just a moment more, savoring the warmth of the stove before heading to the kitchen.

As I left the living room and entered the dining room, I almost stumbled on something. There parked right in the middle of the walkway to the kitchen was the most incredible red, English-racer bicycle you have ever seen. Now, keep in mind, this was back when bikes were all the rage—unlike today when if it doesn’t have batteries or require electricity, it’s not even worth mentioning. It was beautiful. The frame was bright, metallic red, the fenders were chrome, it had three speeds, hand brakes and, wait for it, a generator light.

I was amazed. Not in all my years could I have ever imagined such an extravagant gift. Somewhere there is a home video that my brother shot of the grand moment. I was like someone who had just won the lottery—and from my perspective—I had. I petted it, hugged every one I could find, threw on some clothes and went off into the darkness with my new English racer. And that generator light—oh yes, it lit the way. And if that wasn’t enough, keep in mind this was in North Florida, it was warm enough to ride—even early in the morning.

Like I said, my parents went way out of their way to gift us at Christmas. Things might have been lean during the year but at Christmas, they pulled out the stops. I had an idea how they did it. Saving was not practical on such a limited budget, but they would get one of those loans from a finance company and then pay it off throughout the year. It was so sacrificial. I know I have many things to be grateful for from my parents, but the lengths they went to, so we could have Christmas, touches my heart to this day. I know it probably didn’t make financial sense, but they loved us that much.

I have another parent who did something that didn’t make sense either…and it involved Christmas and Easter. That would be my Heavenly Father. Knowing the world needed a rescue, a redemption, He sent His only Son into this broken world as a baby just so He could grow up and then give Himself to a Roman cross—just for us. Paul, the guy God used to write a bunch of the New Testament, said it this way, “But God demonstrated His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” While we were still broken, still messed up, unloving and unappreciative, Jesus died for us. Nope, it made no sense but that is what I love about God. I know sometimes He allows things that I don’t understand…like when I pray for someone to be healed and it just doesn’t work out like I want. But to know that He loved me enough to create Christmas and Easter—well, that’s just amazing.

Remember this Christmas day, to be grateful for the sacrifices made on your behalf by the people who touch our lives. I know for some that might be difficult. But try and find the good that is lurking somewhere out there. But first of all and most of all, be sure and thank God for the greatest gift ever—His own Son and His sacrifice, that we can be forgiven and look forward to being in heaven one day. Of course, having God as your Dearest Daddy means you get the Gift that keeps on giving. He walks with us every day and through everything, side by side, hand in hand, and we have the grand assurance that no matter what—He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Family, friends, gratitude, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, school days, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, wisdom

Lasting Words

Posted on June 14, 2024June 8, 2024 by Dewayne Taylor

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

It wouldn’t cut soft butter today but back then it was cutting edge. I’m a tech guy. I love the newest and greatest technology. When a new something comes out, if I’m not careful, I am on my way to grab one. Of course, the funny part is it usually ends up sitting around somewhere. Even my iPhone is mad because of the hours it sits on the counter—unloved and unattended. Frequently I must apologize for not returning a call or not answering a text…not because I’m ignoring a person—I’m ignoring my phone.

This love affair with tech began when I was a kid. When it came time for Christmas, I would browse the Sears catalogue and dream of the cool gifts that might come my way. And somehow, Momma and Daddy, with a little help from Santa, would pull it off. Of course, sometimes they surprised me. It would have been Christmas of, oh, 1966 and I received something totally unexpected and totally cool. It was a small, battery powered, portable reel-to-reel tape recorder. This was before eight-tracks, before cassettes…before anything. The size of large book, it gave me the ability to record something and play that something back.

One time I took my recorder to my grandparents’ house in Gainesville, Florida. My grandfather (there was no “Papa” with him) was talking with my Daddy and was telling a joke. I decided to start the recorder and record what they were saying. Sure enough it worked and later, I played the tape for everyone, and we all marveled at the ability for something so small to do that. But here is the amazing part. Somewhere in my stuff, is a small reel of tape and on that tape is my grandfather and Daddy’s voices…probably one of the few recordings to exist. Even though they are gone…their voices live on.

Their.Voices.Live.On. Think about that for just a moment. Both men who influenced me so much have long since passed away. But through technology their voices can still be heard. Oh, I know it is not a big deal now but back then…it was so unusual and that makes the recording valuable. They are, if you will, speaking from the grave.

In one of those moments of clarity, I recently realized that I too, one day, will speak from the grave. My life, my actions, my priorities, my values, sermons I have preached, and stories I have written, will all be left behind and all will speak. And I wonder…what will they say of me and what will they say of who I was? When my great grandchildren hear the stories of their great Papa, will those stories be stories worthy of sharing? Will the words encourage them to live right and do right, or leave them scratching their head like a batter thrown a good curve ball on a hot Saturday afternoon? We should all hope to leave a story that is worth telling…one that brings some light and laughter into their world.

There is a verse I keep coming back to time and again. Moses wrote it thousands of years ago and yet is as fresh as today’s news. He asked God to help him number his days that he could gain a wise heart. He wasn’t asking for his math to be accurate when he counted birthdays. No, he was asking that he be wise enough to make the most, the very most, of every single day.

Legacy. It is a great word, and we are all leaving one. The only question is, “What kind will it be?” That is up to us. Five days a week I publish a short story with a big truth but in reality…I write one everyday…and so do you. Let’s be sure to write one worth telling. Fortunately, there is a publisher who is all about helping us and if we are Jesus followers, we call Him Dearest Daddy. He is more than willing to help us write a best seller…after all, that’s just one more thing He does. He’s got that too. Bro. Dewayne

Christmas, Family, Grace, gratitude, Holidays, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, Trials

The Great Anticipation

Posted on November 30, 2023November 29, 2023 by Dewayne Taylor

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” James 1:17

It always started just about…now. Being an adult is fun most of the time…except when the boss decides he doesn’t need you any more…or maybe when there is more month than money…or when you realize your kids really are smarter than you. But by and large…adulthood is pretty good…but nothing compared to being a kid. When you’re a kid, you don’t worry about bosses (besides your parents) or there being more month than money and at least when I was a kid, it was good to know that Momma and Daddy were smarter than me. Yup, I think being a kid back then, won almost every time.

And that is part of the reason I love this time of year…the time of the great anticipation. I know I’ve written about things like wish books before, but I just can’t help going back in time once again. They would come just before the first of December from all the major players—Sears, J.C. Penney’s, Montgomery Ward, and I think one from Aidens. The Christmas edition was always skinnier than the regular ones that came in Spring and Fall but that was ok because the Christmas edition was jam-packed with everything—Christmas. Decorations, clothing, and other gift ideas filled all the pages and of course color pictures of all the latest and greatest toys. I’m drooling.

I remember and I can feel and still experience the great anticipation. As I would flip through the pages this was one time I did more than just look at the pictures…I read all the descriptions of all the toys that I wanted Santa to bring me. I would dog-ear the pages, circle certain items and of course, start a list. I even went as far as to write letters…notes…to Santa and Momma and Daddy (I decided to cover all my bases) explaining how good I had been and the reason I deserved this toy or that. After all the work was done, I would wait…anticipating the great day—Christmas—Christmas morning.

I don’t know how Santa and Momma and Daddy pulled it off but somehow, they did. No, we didn’t receive everything we wanted but we received so much. And guess what? Many times, we received things, grand things, that I forgot to even ask for. It was an amazing time. Oh, to be a kid. Well, what if I tell you that those days aren’t totally gone? What if the great anticipation isn’t a distant memory but an everyday fact of life?

Well, every person who plants their faith in God’s Son has the privilege of calling God, Father. And what a grand Father He is—you might say He is a great, grand Father and oh yes, the play on words is intentional. You see God loves us so much, after all that is what Christmas is all about. And as a loving, caring Father He desires and loves to meet the needs of His kids. Does He give us anything and everything? Thankfully no. But what He does do is know what we need and supply those needs. It may come in different ways but regardless we can rest in the assurance that He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Christmas, Family, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, Scripture, thankful

My Christmas Santa

Posted on December 17, 2020December 16, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” Galatians 3:28

There were certain decorations that were staples in my world—I can see them in my mind’s eye like it was yesterday. One of those was Santa Claus. Now, we didn’t have the whole body but what we did have was his face. Yup! Our Santa face was about two feet tall and about 18 inches wide. It was from molded plastic so it was three dimensional and to me—it was real. When I got just a little older, I got to climb up on the roof (carefully for you concerned moms) and using some wire I would hang our Santa face on the front side of our chimney. But wait it gets better! Our Santa face had a light bulb inside and would light up at night for all the world (at least so I thought) to see. It was magical.

I remember the vibrant colors—the red hat falling down one side of his peachy face, his full white beard, rosy cheeks, and his eyes. His eyes were bright blue and right in the middle of each pupil was a small hole so that brilliant white light could come peek out giving the illusion of just the right amount of twinkle. It was as if I could hear his hearty “ho, ho, ho.” It was more than a plastic face—for me it was the center of my Christmas world.

I’m not sure what happened to Santa. By the time Mama moved out of the house, I was in the Air Force. I’m hoping he is still living in someone’s attic, but probably he found his way to the trash pile…the victim of some relative that stopped believing. But he will always live in my mind. But in my grownup world, I stopped to question. Why did Santa look just like me? Why was his skin so peachy and his eyes so blue? If he loved all the kids around the whole world, it didn’t seem quite right that my Santa looked so…white. What about the African American kids, or the Asian kids, or the Hispanic kids? What about all the other kids? It didn’t occur to me so much back then, but looking back…it does.

Well, having a peachy faced, blue eyed Santa is one thing but what about a peachy faced, blue eyed Jesus? It’s so funny that when I look at a nativity set, there’s a fair skinned, often blue-eyed Jesus. When I see a painting of Jesus in a church, (keeping in mind we don’t know what He looked like), He usually does have brown hair and eyes but His skin is unusually fair for a Middle Eastern man. Honestly, perhaps this doesn’t matter too much unless we begin to think that Jesus is partial to us…no matter who “us” is. You see, just like the kids’ song says, “Jesus loves the little children, all the little children of the world.” Color never mattered to Him, or the side of town you lived in, or how rich or poor you were. He just loves people.