Tag: walk

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, prayer, Scripture, thankful, Trials

One Saturday Morning

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

When I am afraid, I will trust in You.” Psalm 56:3

It was a dark and stormy night.  Well, it really wasn’t but what happened was scarier than any dark and haunted mansion.  It was Saturday morning and after some debate I decided to go and do my walk and exercise thing.  I have several different paths that I walk, and I decided to walk the bike trail.  I drove to the trail head, parked the car, and started out—enjoying the beautiful spring morning and flora that soon engulfed me.  I made it about a quarter of a mile and things went south…very south.

The bike trail runs next to a highway but is still in the woods. After about a quarter mile, there is an area that they cleared to build the entrance to the Middle School.  That is where it happened. As I emerged from the wooded area, I looked across the highway and there were two dogs, one tan, and one black and they were trotting along on the other side of the highway. My first thought, was, “Oh look…there are Bugs and Bugsy…two pups out for a morning stroll. They spotted me, and immediately headed my way across the highway.  I still wasn’t alarmed but I should have been.

After the two had crossed the road, they came…not toward me but at me…and began not just to bark but to stalk.  This was not a case of two dogs barking at a stranger…it was a case of two dogs bent on attacking and biting this stranger.  They were about four or five feet from me, viciously barking, snarling, and lunging at me, and I decided to do the “Hey bear.” They say when you see a bear, you should holler and most likely the bear will run. Well, I hollered, and the two dogs didn’t run—they only got madder.

Walking backward, because when I turned my back their attack got even closer, I tried to sooth them with my best “I like dogs” voice. It didn’t help…the attack continued. At this point I was genuinely afraid.  I believed, no, I know, if somehow I were to stumble, it wouldn’t be pretty. While several cars slowed down, none stopped.  One truck did pause in the middle school entrance but didn’t offer assistance.  I found out later the owner, who was supposedly looking for the dogs, drove a white truck. If it was the owner…he didn’t stick around.

I love to watch all these nature shows, you know, the one where the lions chase and eat the antelope? Well, and I am not kidding, I suddenly had an, “I know how you feel moment.” I continued walking and shooing while they continued their relentless attack.  Finally, out of the corner of my eye I saw a limb laying but the bike trail. I was able to quickly break part of it off and use it against the dogs.  While I didn’t, couldn’t hit them it was enough to get them to back off.  They lunged a couple more times and finally stopped. Shaking and with a heart rate off the scale, it was finally over.

I continued down the trail for the rest of my walk and found a large stick just in case the two attackers were still around.  Apparently, they had moved on.  It turns out I was not the only one to see the dogs and another lady had an encounter in the same area, at just about the same time with the same two dogs.  Fortunately, she had a can of pepper spray that saved her.  You may have wondered if needed could you cause harm to a living thing to protect yourself.  I now can answer that question for myself…yes.

Well, I was grateful that this didn’t have a harsher ending. I did end up cutting the palm of my hand as I tried to break the smaller branch off the bigger one.  It will probably leave a scar to remind me of the events of that morning. It will remind me that sometimes the most random of decisions can have big consequences. Nothing that happened that day was my fault—it was just life and perhaps the responsibility of an irresponsible dog owner. It will remind me that though I was very frightened, and I was, that God was faithful in protecting me. I really didn’t have time in the middle of the fray to pray or say anything, but He was still there. I am grateful.

Finally, I learned that an attack can come from the most unlikely of places. I like dogs…a lot. Nothing warned me that these were bad dogs, but I learned that not all dogs are good dogs so while I will still love dogs…ones that cross a road to attack me are probably not my friends. Smile.  Oh, and one more thing. I learned and experienced another instance when my faithful Dearest Daddy watched over me. What is written in the Book is true, “When I am afraid, I will trust in you.” Amen.  I also learned fresh and anew that no matter what…He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful, wisdom

Short Stories…Big Truths

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in Me, even if he dies, will live.” John 11:25

Short stories with big truths.  It all started on a Saturday morning.  We were a few months into writing stories on Facebook, and then decided to take the next step and build a website where our stories could be more easily accessed.  Many of our friends were suggesting compiling the stories into a book.  Well, that dream hasn’t happened and may not.  But the website did.  We decided to call it Grits with Grace.  Grits spoke of our Southern heritage and grace of the most powerful thing we have ever experienced.  Next came the tag line, “Short Stories with Big Truths.” Judy staged the picture in our backyard and, well, you probably know the rest.

Short stories with big truths.  Hmmm. That came home this morning as I was walking.  Sometimes, maybe once a week, I take my walk through our local cemetery.  It is rather large and if I make a couple of laps around the outside coupled with a shorter one, I end up with about two miles.  As I have written before, I love this walk because of all the life stories you can find on the headstones.  I take the same route each time…I am a creature of habit.  What I saw this morning I had seen many times before but this morning it spoke to me.

His name was Keith.  I could give you the last name but for privacy I won’t.  He was born on July 3, 1956, just a couple of years before me.  In other words, I was two and a half years old that day when he started his life journey.  It was the next date that always catches my attention. It was the date that he died.  Keith drew his last breath on May 31, 1964, at the too young age of 7 years, 10 months and 29 days. I don’t know the cause of his untimely death…only that it was a too short story.  Was it car accident, a bike accident?  Did he fall while playing?  Perhaps it was one of too many childhood illnesses.  Even polio could be a possibility.  Well, like I said we don’t know.  The only thing we know is that something unexpectedly stepped in and stole his years away.

Short stories.  The cemetery is full of headstones that speak of short stories.  Walk a while and you will see that truth played out and that is why I am writing this story.  You see, Keith is a reminder to me, as are all the headstones are, of a big truth.  The number of our days are a closely guarded secret of the One who created us.  He, and only He, knows when we will step into eternity.  Death is certainly no respecter of race, color, creed, or economic status.  Death doesn’t care about age.  We only know that one day it will come but don’t let that deflate you or scare you because Jesus took care of death two thousand years ago when He resurrected that first Easter morning.

I’m sure Keith didn’t know he was going to have such a short story, but I hope he knew the One that could make a difference.  I hope he knew Jesus.  I hope you know Jesus.  When Jesus is entered into any equation, well, it changes everything but especially death.  With Jesus death is not the end but the beginning and no matter how many years we live here—the life on the other side is so much more…so much longer.  Keith teaches us that some stories are short, very short and some stories are long, very long.  Jesus teaches us that it isn’t the length of the story that matters, it is what we do with Him.  He is what matters…not church, not religion, not religious stuff—just Jesus.

I really like what Jesus said in John 11:25—one of the books in the Bible that tells the story of Jesus.  It says, “Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in Me, even if he dies, will live.” The her is a woman named Martha and her brother had just died with a too short story.  Jesus is just letting her know that death doesn’t have to call the shots because He does.  Short stories…those will always be with us but so will big truths—like the one that says, “I’ve got this” because He does.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, fear, life, Scripture, Southern born, thankful, travel, Trials

Sandspurs from the Past

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

He has removed our sins as far from us as the east is from the west.” Psalm 103:12

It was a voice from my past—and it was singing the blues.  While we were in Southwest Florida on holiday, I tried to keep up with my morning routines.  That included, first and foremost, coffee.  After coffee and a look at the weather came God time.  After God time came Judy time.  After Judy time came—exercise time.  The problem with all these times is they all take time.  Before I knew it, the sun was up, the humidity was up, and the temperature was up.  Regardless, I had to get up and get going.

The first morning we were there I was still learning the lay of the land and wasn’t exactly sure where I should walk.  So, I headed toward the way in and out of our condo property.  This led to the highway and so I took a left and decided to walk on the edge of the road.  It was safe but it was miserable.  There was no shade and soon it was just plain hot—very hot— “why am I doing this” hot.  I was determined to go my 3.6 miles, but I began wondering if this was such a good idea.  After a little while longer I was sure it wasn’t.  But you know how men are—do or die and in this case, death might have been an upgrade.  Ok, I’m exaggerating.

In my misery, I met an old friend.  There was a point when I had to cross a bridge across a channel.  They had built a walkway but to get to the walkway you had to go behind a guardrail through the weeds.  Without breaking stride, I charged on and then I saw them.  Sandspurs.  These were old friends from my childhood.  They are a type of weed and have sharp, spine covered balls of pain at the ends of long stems.  They will grab anything that gets close and if that happens to be your skin…you are done.  If they don’t get you when they attach, they will get you when you try to detach them. Ugh.

Like I said, they were an old foe from my childhood.  When I was a kid, we would run barefoot all the time and without fail we would step on them. They would hurt…bad.  Well, this time, even though I tried to avoid them, they found their way onto my shoes and socks, but I didn’t find them till I got back from my walk.  As I was sitting by the pool trying to recover from a 145-heart rate and the 100-degree humidity, I found them. And, just like the old days, they made sure to give me a “stick and an ouch” as I tried to remove them.  Just.Like.The.Old.Days.  Though it was years ago, the whole sandspur scene was painfully fresh.

I find that sandspurs aren’t the only painful thing that love to bump into our present.  Often, too often, unpleasant memories and regrets, sneak back into our lives and cause us pain all over again.  Try as we may, sometimes, it seems they reattach themselves to us and we relive the whole hot mess again.  It could be a similar situation or maybe a repeat performance, but all the pain and remorse come flooding back.  I hate it, you hate it, but how do we avoid it?

Well, I tried to avoid the sandspurs on my walk.  I saw them, I knew they were there, but in my rush, my determination to exercise, I simply didn’t give them the wide berth they deserved.  I should have made it a higher priority. I realized that when I was trying to remove them.  When you sense or when you feel your ugly, painful past creeping into the present, do whatever it takes to change the scenario. Don’t allow yourself to relive the “sandspurs” of past failures. Trust me—they will attach themselves to your present with all their former pain.

There is one more thing that is even more important than that.  Should you find yourself reliving that regret, run straight into the arms of grace.  Remember and relive the forgiveness that came after the failure.  The Bible tells us that God casts our failures as far as the east is from the west.  I love that because it doesn’t say as far as the north is from the south. You see if you go north long enough you will find the south.  But not so with east from the west.  You can travel east forever and never find the west.  And that dear friend, is what God does with our failures and sin if we ask Him for forgiveness and help. It is gone—outta here and that is real good news.

Well, I couldn’t wait to show Judy my sandspurs, not because I liked them but because they reminded me of an important part of my past and the fact that I knew they were not going to be a permanent part of my future.  I may have bumped into them, but I wasn’t going to live with them. And that is a good thing. So, as you are speed walking through life, remember to give your painful past a wide berth and keep Jesus close by your side. You’ll find Him a mobile “rest stop,” there to make every step, every day survivable and “thrive-able.” And never forget, He’s got this.  Bro. Dewayne