Tag: teachers

Posted in Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, prayer, Scripture, thankful, Trials

God’s Keen on You

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Yet You made them only a little lower than God and crowned them with glory and honor.” Psalm 8:5

I was never good at it.  I’m not sure where it all started.  My wife Judy will occasionally ask me, “So where did it come from?”  And, my answer, is always the same, “I just don’t know.”  That thing, that “it”, is the issue of low self-esteem.  Now, in a world where too many people think too much of themselves, you might think that is a virtue…but it’s not.  In a world that could use a healthy dose of humility, you might think that is something to be valued…but it’s not. In fact, someone once said whether you are thinking too much of yourself or too little…you are still thinking of yourself and that is called pride.

But the real problem with a low view of ourselves is that we find it is in direct conflict with God’s view.  Now don’t let this go to your head…but He is keen on you.  He thought so much of you and so desired a relationship with you, that He sent His Son on a mission to die for the sins of the whole world—including you.  Now that is amazing.  So even though I often doubt myself—God never does.  Even though I often think I can’t, He believes I can. And even though I was always the last chosen for the team, He picks me every time…and not last.

A guy named Matt Tullos wrote a story about all the reasons that God could have used not to choose us…and there are a lot.  But it is comforting to know that most everyone He used in the Bible was broken, flawed, or scarred.  I mean, I know we all are, but some of these folks were real, excuse me, losers. Look at this list from Matt’s story.

“There are many reasons why God shouldn’t have called you to be His child.  But don’t worry.  You’re in good company.  Moses stuttered.  David was too small, and his armor didn’t fit.  John Mark was a quitter and was rejected by Paul.  Timothy had ulcers.  Hosea’s wife was a prostitute.  Amos’ only training was in the school of fig-tree pruning.  Jacob was a liar.  David had an affair.

Solomon was too rich. Abraham was too old.  David was too young.  Peter was afraid of death.  Lazarus was dead.  John was self-righteous.  Naomi was a widow.  Paul was a murderer.  So was Moses.  Jonah ran from God.  Miriam was a gossip.  Gideon and Thomas both doubted.  Jeremiah was depressed and suicidal.  Elijah was burned out.  John the Baptist was a loudmouth.  Martha was a worrywart.  Mary was lazy.  Samson had long hair.  Noah got drunk. Did I mention that Moses had a short fuse?  So did Peter, Paul–well, lots of folks did.

But God doesn’t require a job interview.  He doesn’t hire and fire like most bosses because He’s more our Father than our Boss.  He doesn’t look at financial gain or loss.  He’s not prejudiced or partial, not judging, grudging, sassy, or brassy, not deaf to our cry, not blind to our need. As much as we try, God’s gifts are free.  We could do wonderful things for wonderful people and still not be….wonderful.  Satan says, “You’re not worthy.”  Jesus says, “So what?  I am.”  Satan looks back and sees our mistakes.  God looks back and sees the cross.  He doesn’t calculate what you did in ‘78.  It’s not even on the record.”

I like that a lot.  Matt’s got one more thing to say. He says, “Sure.  There are lots of reasons why God shouldn’t call us to be His child…to serve.  But if we are magically in love with Him, if we hunger for Him more than our next breath, He’ll use us, in spite of who we are, where we’ve been, or what we look like.  Whether we are pastors, missionaries, teachers, deacons, ushers, or nursery workers, we should step out of our limitations into the limitless nature of who God is.  Then our passion for God and our passion to communicate Him will make mincemeat of our limitations.”

How incredible is all of that.  Let me shock you with what God’s word says about you. It says of us, “Yet You [God] made them [that would be us] only a little lower than God and crowned them with glory and honor.” Wow! So today, let’s tackle the day like we believe what God believes about us. Let’s charge forward like the starting quarterback that God says we are.  No, we are not perfect, not even close, but we do have a King who is.  And if are Jesus followers, well, our Dearest Daddy longs to whisper in our ears, “I love you, I believe in you and no matter what, I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, gratitude, life, love, priorities, school days, Scripture, Southern born, sovereignty of God, thankful

Missing a Grade

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

I remember the days of old; I meditate on all You have done; I reflect on the work of Your hands.” Psalm 143:5

I’m not sure why…but there’s a gap. When I started school in Jacksonville, Florida there was no kindergarten.  It was like one day you were at home and then you weren’t.  My first four grades of elementary school were at Wesconnett Elementary School and the last two were at a brand-new school—Jacksonville Heights Elementary School. Unlike Wesconnett, that required a bus ride, the new school was only blocks down the road from my house. 

Wesconnett was old…really old. It was all brick and hot with no air conditioning. That is one reason why we didn’t start school till after Labor Day.  I remember it having large paned windows, oak floors, and tall ceilings.  Hundreds of footsteps would echo through those halls. And, to a little kid like me, it was big—like huge.  It was at Wesconnett that I met and fell in love for the first time.  She was older than me—my first-grade teacher—Mrs. Jones.  And, like the song from the seventies says, “we had a thing going on” or at least I did.  She was pretty (at least from my seven-year-old perspective) and she was nice.  I became her number one eraser cleaner.  But soon, it was time to move on.  So, I passed first grade, and it was so long Mrs. Jones.

By second grade I was a veteran.  A lot of the insecurities were gone, and I met Mrs. Webb.  She, like Mrs. Jones, was a kind teacher.  I think, though I am not sure, that my sister and I had our tonsils out about then and she had all the kids write me get well cards.  I can still remember how special it was to receive that big envelope from my classmates. Thank you, Mrs. Webb.  Third grade meant yet another teacher…this time Mrs. Wilson.  Now I don’t mean this in a mean way but she kind of reminded me of one of the witches from “The Wizard of Oz.”  She was an older lady and wore her hair in a tight bun and was quite stern.  I didn’t clean Mrs. Wilson’s erasers.  But looking back, she was a good teacher and she helped us learn and that is what mattered.  I managed to pass again, so soon it was so long Mrs. Wilson.

Fifth grade meant a new school (with air conditioning—smile) and yet another new teacher and her name was, get ready for it, Mrs. Slappy.  She was rather short, had bright red hair and was rather snappy.  Today I think I would use the word, “feisty.”  As I remember her class, it was fun, and I had a new responsibility.  She selected me (and a couple of others) to be trained to run the film strip projector and the movie projector.  It was a big deal.  When we were going to see a film strip or movie in class, one of us would go down and check out the equipment, set it up and operate it.  Wow…what responsibility and to think, she trusted me.  That was a big deal. Thank you, Mrs. Slappy.

My final year in elementary school, sixth grade, was a landmark year.  I had my first male teacher; Mr. Perry and I was selected to be a “patrol boy.”  Mr. Perry was, as you can imagine, a little different from Mrs. Jones in first grade but I remember him being imposing but fair.  He was a “rules” guy but if you followed the rules, you did ok.  That served me well then and really for the rest of my life.  I know it started at home but Mr. Perry reenforced it…a lesson well learned. Well, there you go, my parade of teachers. The end. Thanks for reading.

Well, not quite.  You see there was a reason I walked you through all of that.  Did you notice something? Well, if you noticed that there is a gap…you are right.  You see, for some reason, and who knows why, there is a total gap for the fourth grade.  I have absolutely no memories of my teacher, classmates, or surroundings.  I know it was Wesconnett but beyond that…zero…and that intrigues me.  I don’t know or believe it was anything bad…there is just a gap. In fact, it means that there was probably a good teacher who taught me, good friends that I met and played with and a whole year of great memories that, for some reason, I have forgotten. I.Have.Forgotten.

And that made me think.  How many other incredibly good things have I forgotten?  It seems we have no problem remembering all the bad stuff but sometimes we tend to forget the good stuff, the great stuff that comes our way.  I love writing about my days as a kid, but I wonder how many good stories I could write if I remembered all the other adventures that came my way.  How many more adventurous things came my way that …slipped away.  Hmmm.

Remembering the good always feeds gratitude and dwelling on the bad tends to feed the opposite. And, trying to fill unexplained gaps, well, can do the same.  Why don’t we celebrate the good, let the hard stuff stay in the rearview mirror and those gaps…just let them be.  I like what the writer of Psalms 145:3 said, “I remember the days of old; I meditate on all you have done; I reflect on the work of your hands.”  In other words, whether it was good, whether it was difficult or whether there is a gap, we know and celebrate one constant, “He’s got that.”  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, friends, life, Scripture, Southern born, thankful

The Gap

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

“I remember the days of old; I meditate on all You have done; I reflect on the work of Your hands.” Psalms 143:5

I’m not sure why…but there’s a gap. When I started school in Jacksonville, Florida there was no kindergarten.  It was like one day you were at home and the then you weren’t.  My first four grades of elementary school were at Wesconnect Elementary School and the last two were at a brand-new school—Jacksonville Heights Elementary School. Unlike Wesconnect that required a bus ride, the new school was only several blocks down the road from my house.  

Wesconnect was an old…real old.  It was all brick with no air conditioning. It was hot. That is one reason why we didn’t start school till after Labor Day.  I remember it having large paned windows, oak floors and tall ceilings.  Hundreds of footsteps would echo through the halls. And, to a little kid like me, it was big—like huge.  It was at Wesconnect, that I met and fell in love for the first time.  She was an older than me—my first-grade teacher—Mrs. Jones.  And, like the song from the seventies says, “we had a thing going on” or at least I did.  She was pretty (at least from my seven-year-old perspective) and she was pretty nice.  I became her number one eraser cleaner.  But soon, it was time to move on.  So, I passed first grade and it was so long Mrs. Jones.

By second grade I was a veteran.  A lot of the insecurities were gone and I met Mrs. Webb.  She, like Mrs. Jones, was a kind teacher.  I think, though I am not sure, that my sister and I had our tonsils out about then and she had all the kids write me get well cards.  I can still remember how special it was to receive that big envelope from my classmates. Thank-you, Mrs. Webb.  Third grade meant yet another teacher…this time Mrs. Wilson.  Now I don’t mean this in a mean way but she kinda reminded me of one of the witches from “The Wizard of Oz.”  She was an older lady, and wore her hair in a tight bun and was quite stern.  I didn’t clean Mrs. Wilson’s erasers.  But looking back, she was a good teacher and she helped us learn and that is what mattered.  I managed to pass again, so soon it was so long Mrs. Wilson.

Fifth grade meant a new school (with air conditioning—smile) and yet another new teacher and her name was, get ready for it, Mrs. Slappy.  She was rather short, had bright red hair and was rather snappy.  Today I think I would use the word, “feisty.”  As I remember her class, it was fun and I had a new responsibility.  She selected me (and a couple of others) to be trained to run the film strip projector and the movie projector.  It was a big deal.  When we were going to see a film strip or movie in class, one of us would go down and check out the equipment, set it up and operate it.  Wow…what responsibility and to think, she trusted me.  That was a big deal. Thank you, Mrs. Slappy.

My final year in elementary school, sixth grade, was a landmark year.  I had my first male teacher, Mr. Perry and was selected to be a “patrol boy.”  Mr. Perry was, as you can imagine, a little different from Mrs. Jones in First grade but I remember him being imposing but fair.  He was a “rules” guy but as long as you followed the rules, you did ok.  That served me well then and really for the rest of my life.  I know it started at home but Mr. Perry reenforced it…a lesson well learned. Well, there you go my parade of teachers. The end. Thanks for reading.

Well, not quite.  You see there was a reason I walked you through all of that.  Did you notice something? Well, if you noticed that there is a gap…you are right.  You see, for some reason, and who knows why, there is a total gap for the fourth grade.  I have absolutely no memories of my teacher, classmates, or surroundings.  I know it was Wesconnect but beyond that…zero…and that intrigues me.  I don’t know or believe it was anything bad…there is just a gap. In fact, it means that there was probably a really good teacher who taught me, good friends that I met and played with and a whole year of great memories that, for some reason, I have forgotten. I.Have.Forgotten.

And that made me think.  How many other incredibly good things have I forgotten?  It seems we have no problem remembering all the bad stuff but sometimes we tend to sometimes forget the good stuff, the great stuff that comes our way.  I love writing about my days as a kid but I wonder how many good stories I could write if I remembered all the other adventures that came my way.  How many more adventurous things came my way that slipped away.  Hmmm.

Remembering the good always feeds gratitude and dwelling on the bad tends to feed the opposite. And, trying to filling unexplained gaps, well, can do the same.  Why don’t we celebrate the good, let the hard stuff stay in the rearview mirror and those gaps…just let them be.  I like what the writer of Psalms 145:3 said, “I remember the days of old; I meditate on all you have done; I reflect on the work of your hands.”  In other words, whether it was good, whether it was difficult or whether there is a gap, we know and celebrate one constant, “He’s got that.”  Bro. Dewayne