Flight Paths

We have grown some of the ugliest tomatoes you have ever seen.  Some of them have lobes that distort their perfect globe shape into something that looks like a mutant in a horror show.  Some of them have brown creases.  Some are crescent shaped instead of round.  Some have “noses.” One in particular had the ski nose of a Bob Hope caricature.  Some look like Siamese Twins.  Excuse me for this, but one looked like it needed a bra!  Usually they have spots of some sort—brown, black or white, depending upon what caused the spot.  Often they sport a bird peck or two.  If you were standing in a store looking at these things, you would turn away and look for something prettier without even giving them a sniff.
            And you would miss out on some of the best tasting tomatoes we have ever grown—especially the Cherokee Purples.  We usually have a platter of sliced tomatoes on the table every day during garden season, and many of those slices are far less than perfectly round.  It isn’t just the odd shapes, it’s also the bad spots we cut out.  As long as it hasn’t spread to the pulp, you can often save half or more of a wonderful tomato--sweet, juicy, slightly acidic, with a full round tomato flavor.
            And many times we stand in the “store” we call life and pick out the worst people just because of how good they look.  This lesson is as old as the hills and one of the first our children are taught.   No one thought David could possibly be the king God had in mind but he was because, “man looks on the outward appearance but God looks on the heart” 1 Sam 16:7.
              But no, we haven’t learned it any better than our children have.  We still ignore the ones who stand on the periphery, who don’t share our standard of living, who don’t speak exactly like we do, who don’t dress like we do, who certainly aren’t the good-looking extroverts everyone praises and wants to be around.  We live in a society that idolizes celebrity and we do the same in the church.  Even the preacher has to be handsome, or at least famous, or we won’t invite him for a gospel meeting.
            Israel did the same thing and look what they wound up with:
And he had a son whose name was Saul, a handsome young man. There was not a man among the people of Israel more handsome than he. From his shoulders upward he was taller than any of the people, 1Sam 9:2.
Now in all Israel there was no one so much to be praised for his handsome appearance as Absalom. From the sole of his foot to the crown of his head there was no blemish in him, 2Sam 14:25.
            Then there was Jesus.  For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him. ​He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not, Isa 53:2-3.  Do you understand that means you would have thought him plain, maybe even a little homely?  Would you have turned away from him the way you do from that one who stands off to the side at church or neighborhood or school gatherings?  Singles out there:  Does a young man or young lady have to be “hot” before you will even talk to them?
            Yep, we still stand at the tomato display looking for perfectly round red tomatoes without a single blemish and wind up with bland anemic knots that, in a blind taste test wouldn’t pass for a tomato any more than a watermelon would.  Look around you today and use the insight God gave you.  No, you can’t look on their hearts, but you can sure look a whole lot deeper than you usually do.
 
Judge not according to appearance, but judge righteous judgment, John 7:24.
 
Dene Ward

I never heard the word as a child.  And I was born and raised in Florida.
            Summer is hot here, as it was then, nearly six decades ago as I played outside every day.  We lived on a cul-de-sac, the same one as two of my first cousins.  It would probably be classified as upper lower class these days, a blue collar neighborhood of tiny tract houses—far too tiny for four girls to romp around inside.  We ran, jumped rope, swung, swam, biked up and down what we thought was a real hill, and played games we made up with rules that changed at our whim.  We knew it was hot, but we seldom thought about it.  The heat rolled in waves across the street, and even the few breezes blew hot.  We played until the sweat showed in white rivulets down our otherwise grimy faces and dripped off our chins and ear lobes.  We just kept on playing because that's all there was to do—that we could afford anyway.  We only had three TV channels and cartoons didn't start until 4:00. 
          Every hour or so we would all tromp into the kitchen where we were playing, either theirs or ours.  Each of our mothers kept a half gallon jug of plain tap water in the fridge.  No Gatorade, no Kool-Aid, no fruit juice, lemonade, or sodas.  Even sweet tea was considered a luxury afforded only for meals.  When we came in for the cold jug of water we drank most of it, then refilled it, and stuck it back in the fridge for the next break, which might or might not be on any schedule.  We didn't want to ruin a game by stopping in the middle of it.  Between us we probably drank a couple gallons of water every morning, and again every afternoon.  And that's with no potty breaks—we simply sweated it all away.
            No one told us to do it.  No one taught us about staying hydrated to stay healthy.  We were thirsty so we all came in and drank to our hearts' content, and promptly felt better and were able to play even more, which was the whole point, right?
            Funny how the Lord can't get us to stay hydrated.  We don't want to take a break in our busy lives to drink that living water, and we don't even realize we're thirsty for it--not until life hands us a nasty surprise and we have no strength to handle it.  We think that fancy spring water is just as good; that the fruit flavored variety will be a lot easier to stomach, so we waste our thirst on fluff that won't do the job.  Then we collapse on the floor of our trials and don't even have the energy to look for God's real thing.
            If we had only taken the time, we would have had what we needed, what sits in the fridge waiting whenever we want it—if only we realized that we did want it, like a certain woman long ago who understood its value immediately.  Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I will not be thirsty or have to come here to draw water.”  (John 4:13-15).
            Like children playing in the hot summer sun of Florida, this woman did not have to be told what she needed.  What is getting in our way, what keeps us from seeing what we need so desperately?  Stay hydrated—with the water that truly makes a difference.
 
With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation. And you will say in that day: “Give thanks to the LORD, call upon his name, make known his deeds among the peoples, proclaim that his name is exalted."  (Isa 12:3-4).
 
Dene Ward
 

A young lady recently asked me how she could serve her elderly sisters in the Lord.  Bless her heart, I thought.  Here is someone who, despite her youth (mid-20s), really understands how God feels about his aged children.
            You shall stand up before the gray head and honor the face of an old man, and you shall fear your God: I am the LORD  (Lev 19:32).
            Since the government now considers me "elderly," you would think I have a lot of answers to give her.  The thing is, while I may move slower, wear out faster, and hurt more, I really don't feel "elderly."  When you start talking about the elderly, I always think you are talking about someone else.  But I did care for my mother until her death at 91, and I know very well what she liked and needed.
            My mother liked to "go."  She couldn't handle long rides, but she loved eating lunch out after a short shopping trip or a visit to the doctor.  She especially loved dinner at our house.  When we picked her up, she would gaze out the car window as if she had never been anywhere in her life, even if it was the same old rural highway, along the same old fields and forests to my house.  A couple of hours, and sometimes not that much, was about all she could handle, especially the last year, but her mood lifted and she slept better that night just from the added activity.
            Her next favorite things were visits.  Visits break up the monotony of the day and keep one day from blending into the next.  If you don't know what to talk about when you visit, stop worrying.  Those older people have lived lives just as busy and exciting as yours.  Just ask a question or two, then sit back and let them talk.
            We spent some time with an elderly lady at church, and were happy to attend her ninetieth birthday party.  I had never known anyone but the gray-haired, no bigger than a minute lady who wore glasses every bit as thick as the ones I had as a child.  She seldom talked at church, but would give you a beautiful smile if you simply said hello.  At her party, her children had put out some old photos and there on the table was a petite, and gorgeous, brunette in her 20s. 
            "Is that you?" I asked. 
         "Oh yes," she said.  "That was when I toured Europe with the USO, entertaining the troops during World War II."  I nearly choked on my birthday cake.  I had had no idea.
            In my mother's last years I heard stories I would have never known if we had not moved her close to us and had those years together.  Things she had never spoken about before, including her conversion, hers and Daddy's honeymoon, and stories of her childhood with a Grandmother who died before I was born.  Older people love to reminisce.  Those memories are about all they have.  Go visit and give them an outlet.  You will be amazed at what you hear. Question after question will come to you with no trouble at all, and you will make them feel important again.
           And that's what they want more than anything else—to feel like they matter to someone.  No one wants to feel like a burden, like someone to be tolerated and a duty to be performed.  They need to feel like they still have something to offer, perhaps some wise advice or just an entertaining story.  That's what you can give them with hardly any effort at all.
           Most of you will become one of those elderly people one day.  You will understand then, but you will be stuck right where they are now, hoping someone realizes that they used to be an interesting person too.  Set the example for others now so that you don't wind up sitting in your rocker, day after lonely day, watching the world pass by, thinking that you don't matter to anyone any longer.
 
​Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained in a righteous life  (Prov 16:31).
 
Dene Ward

Keith had to have some fairly serious surgery last year and since he is 90% deaf, the doctor arranged for me to be in his hospital room as his caregiver 24/7.  He does read lips fairly well, but lip reading is not the perfect solution to the problem.  He must “fill in the blanks,” so to speak, as his mind tries to interpret the sounds his ears miss, which is most of them.  It takes a lot of concentration, and when he is tired or does not feel well, he simply cannot hear at all.  But over the years I have learned how to communicate in all the various ways, from hand signals to pantomime to pointing at people or things to carefully wording without overdoing the mouth movements or using too many words. 
            So for six days we were both away from home and wouldn’t you know it, it was the height of garden season.  When we came home I had to do it all because he couldn’t even lift more than 10 pounds for two months, let alone bend over to pick vegetables or drag hoses.  That first week was the worst.  I picked every morning, sprayed the whole garden twice, (we’re talking an 80 x 80 garden here), pulled cucumber vines covered with blight, chopped out and hauled away the old corn stalks, placed folded newspapers under 50 cantaloupes so they wouldn’t rot on the ground (a very thin-skinned variety), cleaned out weed-choked flower beds, put up both dill and red cinnamon pickles, and picked and tossed 8 five gallon buckets of squash and cucumbers that did not have the grace to stop growing while we were in the hospital!
            Of course we all know that is not going to happen.  The plants continue to grow, the blossoms continue to set, and the fruit grows far larger than you ever imagined it could.  The back field looked like a marching band had gone through throwing out big yellow saxophones as they passed.
            It works that way with children too.  I can think of dozens of things we planned to do with our boys when they were little—things we never got to.  Sometimes it was a case of no money, but sometimes we just let life get in the way.  I wrack my brain trying to remember if there was anything we planned that we actually accomplished at all!  But just like gardens, children keep on growing.  They don’t stop to wait until you have more time to spend with them, or more resources to spend on them.  They won’t wait till you get a bigger house or an easier job or a raise.  They won’t wait until your life is exactly like you want it.  If that’s what you are waiting for, it will never happen.  You have to set your own priorities and make it happen.
            Every summer I made my boys a chore list.  I am sure they remember it fondly!  No, probably not, but on that list was this:  “Play a game with mom.”  Guess which “chore” they never skipped?  Sometimes it was checkers, sometimes it was monopoly, sometimes it was even pinochle, a game they learned with some of their dad’s commentaries set up on the table to hide their hands because they were too small to hold all the cards at once.  Sometimes it was one of the board games I made to help them with their Bible knowledge.  And every day we had Bible study of some kind, whether just talking about things between the bean rows as we picked together or a formal sit down study. 
            These are just some ideas to help you along.  We have all heard the old poem “Children Don’t Wait.”  It’s true, and last summer I thought about that even more as I looked out over the overgrown garden.  Maybe my grandsons will reap a little from the repeat of a lesson that is never taught enough.
 
And he said unto them, Set your heart unto all the words which I testify unto you this day, which you shall command your children to observe to do, even all the words of this law. For it is no vain thing for you; because it is your life...Deut 32:46-47.
 
Dene Ward

Any woman who has difficulties with subjection has difficulties with being a Christian.  Submission is what being a disciple of Christ is all about. And the same goes for men.

Giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ. (Eph 5:20-21).

Dene Ward

This is one of our favorite times of the year—the garden is booming and dinner will always be a treat of things we can only enjoy now, when the vegetables are truly “vine-ripened” and the price is perfect—just a lot of sweat.
            One night we will have stuffed bell peppers in a fresh tomato sauce with green beans on the side.  The next we will have eggplant parmigiana with a squash casserole on the side.  Later in the week it will be a country veggie plate of butterbeans, sliced tomatoes, roasted corn, fried okra, and a big wedge of cornbread.  Pasta night will feature a fresh tomato sauce with fresh oregano and feta cheese or a simple cherry tomato sauce with fresh basil.  Then there will be the times we try something new, like today’s grilled eggplant and red onion sandwich on a toasted multi-grain bun with lemon aioli and a big slice of tomato plus pita chips and baba ghanoush (a dip of grilled eggplant and tahini) on the side.  As the rest of the vegetables die off, we will still have the Italian plum tomatoes and enjoy a pizza with homemade crust and homemade tomato sauce, plus a few late season peppers and some Italian sausage.  A few nights later, we will do the same thing, but fold it over and make a calzone out of it with the sauce on the side.  Yes, this is one of our favorite times of the year.
            But now we are seeing that it will have to end sometime in the near future.  Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s our age, maybe it’s a combination of the two, but all this good food isn’t worth sacrificing our health for, much less our lives.  Someday soon we will have to buy canned and frozen foods at the store like everyone else instead of using the preserved items we have labored over for three months every year. 
            Which all serves to remind us of what we have lost and why.  By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread, till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; for you are dust, and to dust you shall return,” Gen 3:19. 
We sweat a lot over this garden.  Some days I think it is watered more by us than the rain.  That is as it should be, for sin deserves far worse punishment than that and every one of us has participated in it.  It is by God’s mercy that we plant in the spring when we have a cool breeze and a sun that is not directly over us.  That same mercy grants us a salvation we do not deserve, and the help to make it through a life we have all but ruined from the beginning.  Why should we expect a perfect life now?  Why should we expect that things will always turn out right?  Someone has not been reading the same Bible I have.  It is grace that promises us that there is a perfect place in the future.  Don’t look upon that hope with ingratitude because you cannot have it now.  We have only ourselves to blame.
            But in the midst of the toil, the sweat, the thorns and thistles and weeds, we enjoy a few weeks of some of the best meals in the world—not gourmet feasts, not something concocted by a celebrity chef—but the plain and simple fare that comes straight from the ground and reminds us of the provision God has made “for the just and the unjust,” not because He had to, but because He wanted to.  It also reminds us of the garden we will return to someday, and never have to leave again.  If you don’t have your own garden, head to the farmers’ market this week and remind yourselves that God still loves us.  This is the way it is supposed to be, and it can be again.  It’s up to you whether you get to enjoy it.
 
Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned…But the free gift is not like the trespass. For if many died through one man's trespass, much more have the grace of God and the free gift by the grace of that one man Jesus Christ abounded for many…For if, because of one man's trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ, Rom 5:12,15,17.
 
Dene Ward

I have about given up trying to explain to people that your power point doesn't mean a thing if it isn't easily read.  As a visually impaired person, I can tell you exactly what can and can't be seen.  Too many times it seems that people want it to be "pretty" and whether it can be read or not is beside the point.  At the risk of sounding dumb may I ask, "Huh?"
            Color is the first thing.  It absolutely floors me that Bausch and Lomb, the company that makes products for visually impaired people, insists on printing coupons with the expiration date printed in white letters on a pastel background.  There is no better way to make the letters completely disappear, except to never put them on there in the first place.  There must be a stark contrast for us to see what's there, and color tends to make it worse.  Gray letters on white is another difficult combination.  I find myself thinking they really don't care about us after all, or maybe they just don't want us to use their coupons so they will make more money.  Neither option is good PR.
            Contrast is not always simple either.  Over and over I will see an ad on television with nice dark letters in the middle of the screen, but have to turn aside quickly or cover my eyes because the background is a blinding white.  Even when I can stand the white background, it still spills over onto the letters and nearly obliterates them.  Far better a black background with white letters so the background glare is minimal, as on this blog.  If you just can't make yourself use white on black, at least make the white background something besides pure, blinding white, like ivory or cream.  Unless you don't care whether people can actually read it or not.
            I was sitting in a doctor's office last week with my husband, not an eye doctor this time so it was not quite so ironic when I looked at the sign on the wall across from where we sat and couldn't read it.  Sometimes if I look long enough I can figure words out by their shape and the context.  (Another lesson, don't make the print as small as you think you can—err on the side of too large.)  As usual someone decided to get pretty.  The letters were a nice dark print on a muted white—until it reached the punchline, the part they really wanted you to see.  At that point, the words were printed pale aqua on white.  We had a bit of a wait, so I kept working at it and finally came up with this, based more on how the words were shaped because that is all I could really see of that "important" phrase:
            "Sleep apnea is causing your husband's hot baked potato."
            Okay, so obviously that was wrong.  There was no context at all that I could imagine which included potatoes with apnea.  So I kept working at it.  About fifteen minutes later, based upon my own knowledge of sleep apnea (Keith has it) and what it causes, I realized that "hot baked potato" was actually "high blood pressure."  About then, the neurologist finally arrived and I never did read the rest of the sign.  Good thing I didn't need to.
            I believe that some of us have similar problems with the Bible.  We are so certain that it's simple—it is—that we forget that it is also deep, that we can study the same parts for years and still discover new things.  You must work at it to get it all.  But for many it's just too much trouble.  "Why do we have to know all this stuff anyway?" which can also be taken as, "Why do I have to learn anything else about God?  I'm saved and that's all that counts."  Try that on your spouse sometime.  "Why do I need to know anything else about you?  We're married and that's all that counts."  I don't think so.
            Proverbs 10:23 is enlightening here.  Doing wickedness is like sport to a fool, and so is wisdom to a man of understanding.
            Did you catch that?  If you are wise, that is, if you are not a fool, you find pleasure in learning.  And learning about God and His Word should be the greatest pleasure you can imagine.  When we eagerly make time for anything else, even if it isn't wickedness, but neglect our Bible study, we are not exactly the sharpest pencil in the box ("wise").
            God made it as easy as He could—He did not print white letters on a pastel background.  It takes Divine effort to save so many copies of a manuscript for thousands of years and have it be obvious that it is indeed still correct and in some way miraculous, whether anyone else wants to believe that or not.  Now it's time for a little effort from us, a little sacrifice in time, a little deep thinking instead of just rattling off catch-phrases and thinking that makes me holy and righteous. 
            God didn't count on us trying to suss out the shape of the words; He made it plain to see.  If we won't do our part, it isn't just laziness, it's rejection of Him and His Word, and it shows a whole lot more about us than we seem to realize.  Please show Him that you do care about something besides this transient world and its carnal pleasures.  Show Him that you want to know more about Him and to develop a deep and lasting relationship with a Father who cares so much that you won't find a hot baked potato when what you really need is His Blessed Presence.
 
Hear the word of Jehovah, you children of Israel; for Jehovah has a controversy with the inhabitants of the land, because there is no truth, nor goodness, nor knowledge of God in the land…My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge: because you have rejected knowledge, I will also reject you…seeing you have forgotten the law of your God, I also will forget your children.  Hos 4:1,6
 
Dene Ward

You would think that after well over ten years of watching these birds outside my window that I would have seen everything, but such is not the case.  I imagine I will still be sharing experiences with you for years to come.
            Take the latest.  Besides the trough outside my window, we also have two hanging feeders out in the yard, another on the corner of the field on the other side of the house, and two suet cages hanging by the window next to the trough.  The suet blocks in those cages get the most traffic in the cooler weather.  Suddenly, not just meat eaters (bug meat, this is) but also seed eaters who need more fat in the cold are thronging the things.  Access can be a problem.  With sparrows or wrens, several can and will hang onto the cages containing the suet all at one time, happily pecking away, share and share alike.  But larger birds take up too much room for that.  With a 4 by 4 inch block of suet, an 8 inch cardinal, or a 9 inch catbird, or a 10 inch blue jay have no room to share, even if they wanted to—which most of those varieties don't.
            Then there is the swing factor.  One cage is hooked to a tiny bar by a five inch chain, similar to a charm bracelet chain.  It sways back and forth a bit when a bird lands, takes off, or simply sits on the old TV antenna next to it and pecks at it, but the arc is fairly small and the swing barely noticeable.  The other one is hooked to a higher bar by a cord a good 2 feet long.  Now this one can really get to moving, both in a back and forth arc and also in rotation.
            The catbird loves suet, but he much prefers the cage on the short chain.  Devious me, when that one runs out, I leave it empty for a while and force the birds to use the one on the longer cord.  Otherwise it would never be eaten.  The first time that catbird landed on that cage it started turning like a merry-go-round.  He moved back a forth a bit, trying to counterbalance the rotation, but the more he moved, the faster it turned.  Finally, he became so upset that he started flapping his wings while still hanging on with his feet and before long the centrifugal force had nearly flung him off.  He flew away in self-defense.  But he does love that suet, so he keeps coming back.
            Yesterday he made a breakthrough.  He has finally learned that if he lands on it and stands totally still, it will eventually slow down enough for him to be able to lean over and peck the suet with very little sway factor or rotation.  He overcame his panic and let the laws of physics and gravity slow the turn simply by being still.  Can birds learn these things?  Well, I guess he learned something because we no longer break out in fits of laughter watching him rotate like a spinning top and somehow avoid being slung off into the azaleas.
            Sometimes we get just like that catbird.  Life starts throwing us around, flinging us back and forth, trying to completely throw us away from the very thing that can stabilize us and feed our souls—God.  If we just stop flailing about, stop going in all directions, stop trying to take care of things ourselves and just let God take control, many times the situations we find ourselves in will completely disappear, and the ones that don't will suddenly become more manageable.  I  know for myself that the very things that have kept me awake all night suddenly have simple solutions the next day when I just quit trying to control everything myself and hand them over to God.
            Back in the early 1960s a musical ran in London called "Stop the World I Want to Get Off."  It follows the life of a man who, every time something happened which he didn't like, cried out that title line.  In fact, the whole show stopped and he would talk to the audience about it.  The catbird, if he could have talked, might have said the same thing, and in the beginning did "get off" the suet cage, but he knew he needed that suet so he kept coming back and learned how to deal with it. 
            We can't get off the cage—or the world.  We have to learn, just like that catbird, how to cope, and we have a Father who will help us if we will only let Him.  So be still and let Him.
 
Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth! ​The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. — Selah (Pause) (Ps 46:10-11)
 
Dene Ward

After a few years of working at it, my flower bed is now one mass of yellow every spring.  We planted a few of those daisy-style flowers known as rudbeckia several years ago and they have gradually increased over time.  The gallardia died off, the coreopsis moved to the back field, and even the “invasive” Mexican petunias have waned as the more commonly named black-eyed susans exercised dominance in the bed.  Even most of the weeds gave up.  These flowers are here to stay now, and they are gradually spreading, with just a little help from us, over other areas of the property.
            But come the end of June the stems turn gray and furry and the flower heads brown as they “go to seed.”  It’s a long couple morning’s work to pull them up and toss them out to the field southeast of the flower bed.  We’ve noticed over the years that things tend to spread to the northwest, and sure enough, if we toss things to the southeast we will get an even fuller bed the next year.  What would happen if we just left them?  Ugly, is what would happen, and that is not what flowers are for.  Something has to be done if we want them to continue to flourish.
            I’ve noticed the same about churches.  The longer you sit on your pews with no winds stirring, no rainstorms, no blight to kill off the weak plants, no insects to fight, no cultivating to uproot the weeds, the more likely you are to go to seed.  Every church needs a good stirring up once in a while if it wants to survive.  When a church starts to “go to seed,” it can get just plain ugly.
            I’ve seen a church become the property of one family, where visitors aren’t welcome and no one even thinks about reaching out to the community.  It’s just there for convenience as they “fulfill their Sunday duty.” (Amos 5:21-24)
            I’ve seen a church become so set in its ways that, while still claiming expediency, things are done in as inexpedient a way imaginable because it would upset anyone to change a tradition.  In fact, they come close to considering it a sin to even think of it. (Matt 15:7-9)
            I’ve seen a church become, not the pillar and ground of the truth, but a source of hatefulness and division.  They call it standing for the truth when it’s really just barring the doors to anyone who might need a little more help than the type of new convert they would prefer.  (I Cor 6:9-11)
            I’ve seen churches so interested in keeping peace, they sacrifice purity, or let an obstinate brother have his way, even if it hurts the mission of the church in that community, or a weaker brother. (James 3:17)
            I’ve seen so-called sound churches spout nothing but memorized catch-phrases and slogans with the requisite “proof-texts,” none of which they can explain or use in its true context.  They talk about “no creed but the Bible” while explaining to every visitor an unwritten creed of do’s and don’ts if you want to be accepted by “us.” (3 John 9,10)
            And I’ve seen many, many churches become so afraid of doing something wrong they never manage to do anything good.  (Matt 23:23,24)
            The first of July I start pulling up plants and tossing them to the southeast.  Then Keith will come along a day or two later and run the mower over those old plants to help disseminate the seeds for next year.  For a while my bed looks pathetic, but soon it will be a sea of bright yellow waving in the spring breeze once again, in fact, it will be fuller and brighter than ever.  That will only happen after I turn it upside down and inside out.  Maybe a few more churches need to do the same thing.
 
And the Lord said: “Because this people draw near with their mouth and honor me with their lips, while their hearts are far from me, and their fear of me is a commandment learned by rote, therefore, behold, I will again do wonderful things with this people, with wonder upon wonder; and the wisdom of their wise men shall perish, and the discernment of their discerning men shall be hidden,” Isa 29:13-14.
 
Dene Ward
 

It has sat there for about a month now, an old birdseed sack that we saved for hauling all those unsolicited catalogues to the dump.  It's impossible to burn them in the burn barrel and they fill up the kitchen garbage in just a day or two, so off to the dump they go every time Keith hauls the garbage cans off.  In the country, in a poor rural county, there is no garbage pickup—you do it all yourself.
          Because it's such a laborious task, and the truck had been in the shop for about three weeks, that sack became part of the landscape.  When Keith finally loaded up the cans, he walked right past where it sat in the corner of the porch and left it there.  He didn't even noticed what he had done until the next morning.  There it was, full of seed catalogues, women's catalogues, Land's End and L L Bean, a couple of Baker's Catalogues, and half a dozen Harbor Freights and Cabela's, still sitting in the corner waiting for its trip to the dump.  And now it will wait another month, probably.
          Which all reminds me of my personal Bible study.  I have read the Bible through more than half a dozen times.  Yet it never fails that when I am studying something I find a passage that seems brand new to me.  "I have never read this before," I will tell myself, as if someone could possibly have come along one night while I slept and put it in there.  Of course I've read it, but it had never stood up and waved at me before.  Can I give you a couple of really easy study tips this morning to help you avoid this?
          1.  Read more slowly.  We all mean well when we plan to read the Bible every day.  But too often, we find ourselves saving it for last, or for the few minutes we have between other chores, and just zip right through it to get it done.  Don't.  Read for the time you have.  God didn't put those chapter divisions in there anyway, so if you have to stop in the middle of one, so what?  Far better to try to read by paragraph (subject), S-L-O-W-L-Y.
          2.  Ask yourself questions while you read.  What did that just say?  Who is he referring to?  Where was he when he said/did this?  What does that word mean?  Where have I heard this name before?  What does this have to do with what I just read in the last paragraph?  What did that command mean in that particular culture?  That will automatically slow you down, and make you think about what you are reading, which, in turn, will help you remember it.
          3.  Read from a version you are unfamiliar with.  I am always looking for large print Bibles these days.  I found a Holman with the largest print I had ever seen—Giant Print, I think they call it.  After checking with some people I trusted who said it was as reliable a version as most any other modern one, I picked it up.  When I started reading, I could hardly put it down.  "It does not say that!" I said out loud more than once.  But when I picked up my old favorite American Standard (1901) that my father had when he went to Florida College in 1946, I found that I was wrong.  It most certainly did say that, just not exactly in the words I expected.  And that small change made me notice much more than I ever had before.  I learned more in a few days than I had the entire month before.
          I hope this helps you in your study.  We all mean well when we pick up God's Word, but let's not treat it like the sack of trash in the corner, something that's always there and thus, goes unnoticed.
 
For this commandment that I command you today is not too hard for you, neither is it far off. It is not in heaven, that you should say, ‘Who will ascend to heaven for us and bring it to us, that we may hear it and do it?’ Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, ‘Who will go over the sea for us and bring it to us, that we may hear it and do it?’ But the word is very near you. It is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do it.  (Deut 30:11-14).
 
Dene Ward