Flight Paths

[This was written a few years ago after a serious surgery with even more serious complications.  Just so you have the proper context…]
 
              When I was little and listened to the sick list at church, no matter where we went, there was always someone who was “chronically ill.”   All that meant to me was they were never at church.  I couldn’t fathom an illness that never got any better, that gave you good days and bad days, that made you careful not to “overdo” because of the adverse effects that might have on you.  Now I understand, and wish I didn’t.

             I no longer have any social life--my doctor is my social life.  I see more of him than any of my brothers and sisters in the Lord.  I talk on the phone more to his office help than to church folks.  I spend more hours sitting in his examining chair than I do in a pew.  In fact, they ought to rent me a room there. 

              And I know this will take a toll on my spirituality.  It becomes more and more difficult to keep a good attitude.   While I certainly have more time to study, not having a current class to prepare to teach makes it less a priority and easy to put off, especially when reading is so difficult.  Helping others is nearly impossible, especially when you don’t even know what’s going on with the brethren any more.  So yes, my spirituality is suffering.  I struggle to keep it every day.  But the circumstances cannot be helped.

              What I do not understand is people who do this to themselves on purpose:  those who darken the meetinghouse door only enough to keep the elders and deacons off their backs, and leave while the last amen is still echoing down the hall; who never take advantage of the extra Bible studies held in homes, a safe place to ask questions without embarrassment and learn from those who have wisdom and experience in life; who avoid all the social gatherings of the church scheduled between the services, while regularly finding time to be with friends in the world, not to teach, but simply to socialize; who never have a Bible lesson prepared—that’s only for the children—who never attend a wedding or funeral so they can “weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice,” those who are healthy enough to jog, to play tennis, to hunt or fish, to go to ball games and sit in the hot sun for hours cheering, but simply do not want more than they consider the bare minimum to get by as a Christian. 

              Here is the problem with that:  there is no such thing as the bare minimum.  If Satan can get you to believe that lie, he has sabotaged any chance you have to make it to Heaven.  God expects us to give our all, no matter how much that may be; more for some, less for others, depending upon the circumstances of life.  It is difficult enough when the minimum IS your maximum, but doing that to yourself on purpose will only make you miserable in both lives, this one and the one to come.

              The early Christians understood that they were spiritual lifelines for each other; they would not let go for anyone or anything.  They spent time together, strengthening one another from the beginning, and because of that they were able to withstand horrors we can only imagine.  If you wait till the horror is upon you to reach out for that lifeline, it is probably too late.
 
And all that believed were together and had all things common…And day by day continuing steadfastly with one accord in the Temple, and breaking bread from house to house, they took their food with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God and having favor with all the people.  And the Lord added to them day by day those that were saved, Acts 2:44,46,47.
 
Dene Ward

When my mother raised us, she always said, “I’m not running a restaurant.  You get what I serve,” and what she served was always fine with me.  I don’t recall a single bad meal.  Even recently I heard a television cook reminisce about coming to dinner as a child and eating what was put in front of her, so my family wasn’t weird, and neither was I when I followed suit as an adult.  It was as much about finances as anything else, but it certainly helped teach a few things, like, you don’t always get what you want in life and be grateful for whatever there is.
 
             But once in awhile I tried to please everyone as much as possible.  If the main dish was one boy’s favorite, then dessert was the other boy’s favorite.  It was the best of both worlds for them—a favorite entrée and a favorite dessert.

              Recently I have come up with a dessert that has to be the best of both worlds.  I haven’t decided whether to call it a cheesecake brownie or a brownie cheesecake.  It has two layers: a brownie bottom, and a cheesecake top.

              So, if you like chocolate and cheesecake, you can have both in one piece.  If you want chewy and smooth and creamy this is the dessert for you.  If you like chocolate and vanilla, this is even better than Neapolitan ice cream.  It’s even part convenience food and part “from scratch.”  The brownie layer is a mix and the cheesecake layer is all homemade.  A friend told me it’s perfect for her and her husband.  He has celiac disease, so he eats the gluten-free cheesecake layer and she eats the brownie layer.  Like I said, the best of both worlds.

              Now try to convince your neighbors that as a Christian you have the best of both worlds.  All they can see is what you can’t do and how much you sacrifice in time, energy, and types of entertainment.  Especially if all you do is complain about what you can’t do, ruing the messed up weekends, the missed ball games and picnics, what else do you expect?  You are supposed to make your life look like something they will want, not something they will hate.

              So perhaps we should start by convincing ourselves.  We don’t have to go to church; we get to assemble with our spiritual family.  We don’t have to dress differently; we get to look like decent, classy people instead of prostitutes.  We don’t have to give up drinking and smoking and drugs; we get to keep our dignity, breathe clearly, and preserve as many brain cells as possible.  We don’t have to give up revenge and gossip; we get to get along with people and stay out of trouble.  We don’t have to watch our language; we get to look like intelligent people with a real vocabulary.  We don’t have to give up status and money and things; we find our joy wherever we are in any situation—we have learned in whatever circumstances we are “to be content,” Phil 4:12, and contentment equals happiness.

              God does not expect us to be miserable in order to earn Heaven.  Being a Christian is not a horrible life.  It is a life of joy, a life of fulfillment, a life of health, a life of spiritual wealth.  I have more family than any of my neighbors.  One of them was amazed at the food brought during my surgeries, at the women who cleaned my house and the teenagers who raked the yard after Keith had a stroke.  If I ever need help, I don’t have just one person to call, I have a whole list. 

              My marriage is intact and happy.  My children are happy, productive citizens, and servants of the Lord to boot.  We don’t have money problems because we don’t love things and don’t need luxury to be satisfied.  We don’t have legal problems because we are honest and law abiding.  We don’t lose our faith over our illnesses and disabilities because we have something far better in store for us.

              Which leads us to the next world.  If this life has been good—not perfect, for how could it be in a cursed world—the next one will be nothing short of amazing, an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fades not away, reserved in heaven for you,1 Pet 1:4.

              God promises us a “best of both worlds” life, far better than a “best of both worlds” dessert.  But He doesn’t make you eat it.  He gives you a choice.  You can have this world and the next if you do it His way.  Otherwise, this one is all you get.
 
For bodily exercise is profitable for a little; but godliness is profitable for all things, having promise of the life which now is, and of that which is to come, 1 Tim 4:8.
 
Dene Ward
 
If you want the mentioned recipe, click on "Dene's Recipes" on the left sidebar.

The last in the series. 

After I read the book to my grandsons, I took it and looked on every page, up and down, backwards and forwards and could not find her.  I knew He-Did-It Harriet was in there somewhere.  Then I began looking for torn out pages.  Nope.  The book was intact.  Finally, I remembered where she was—in my class's imagination.  They told me the book was incomplete, that several people were missing.  So I told them to come up with the missing children themselves, and they did.  After all these years, Harriet is the only one I remember.
 
             He-Did-It-Harriet has several problems.  First, she's the tattletale.  It isn't that she cares about people and whether they might get hurt—she wants them to get in trouble.  Do you think adults don't think the same way sometimes?  Usually after you point out a problem they have.  "Maybe what I did was wrong, but you…"  Or "brother so and so," Or "sister whatsis."  Tattling on anyone to divert the attention of the elders, the preacher, or any other kind soul who is simply trying to help.  Harriet needs to be told in no uncertain terms that what anyone else did does not make her sins okay.

              Harriet's other problem, especially as an adult, is to blame everyone else for her sin.  "But I'm a victim," she says of poor parenting, of a violent culture, or abuse of one sort or another.  And especially, "He was mean to me.  That's why I quit going to church."  You mean, you allowed someone else to cause you to abandon the Lord who gave his life for you?  That same Lord said, "If the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch."  He said through his prophet Ezekiel, "The soul that sins, he shall die."  My sin is my fault because I let it happen, not because of anything anyone else did.  Never in the Bible will you find a place where someone else's failings actually excused the sin of another.

              And Harriet will never see her own failures.  I have lived long enough to know that practically every problem between two people has two sides.  Harriet, though, sees only her side.  She will judge the motives of others and criticize their actions and words, demanding an apology.  When the other side does this too, things will never be straightened out.  But what often happens is the other side will read in their Bible, "Love covers a multitude of sins," and though they, too, were hurt, they will be the first to proffer the demanded apology, hoping for one in return, and when they don’t get it from the self-absorbed Harriet, just go along for the sake of unity and peace in the family or the church rather than make their own demands.  Harriet is so wrapped up in herself that she will never recognize this fact:  one apology almost always demands one in return because no one is perfect.

              Our entire culture is full of He-Did-It Harriets, people who refuse to take accountability for their actions and blame everything and everyone they can for their failings.  When we let that invade the church, even taking up for the Harriets out there who try to blame it on the preachers, teachers, elders, and caring brothers and sisters who dared to tell her she was wrong, we give the Devil a victory.  He has won Harriet, but he has also won anyone else who sees her get away with sin and still be accepted as a part of what should be a holy brotherhood.  Now they know exactly how they can get away with it, too.

              The children did not know when they made up Harriet that this one might be the most important one of all.  Or maybe they did.  Maybe they have seen it too long among their playmates and while they cannot see from experience the evil that is wrought by them, something in them saw a problem.

              If you should use this book with your children or your Bible classes, try this simple exercise.  Have them come up with characters they do not like to be around and do not want to grow up to be like.  Children are far wiser than we sometimes think.
 
He said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten of the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” The man said, “The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate.” Then the LORD God said to the woman, “What is this that you have done?” The woman said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.” (Gen 3:11-13).
 
And Moses said to Aaron, “What did this people do to you that you have brought such a great sin upon them?” And Aaron said, “Let not the anger of my lord burn hot. You know the people, that they are set on evil. For they said to me, ‘Make us gods who shall go before us. As for this Moses, the man who brought us up out of the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him.’ So I said to them, ‘Let any who have gold take it off.’ So they gave it to me, and I threw it into the fire, and out came this calf.” (Exod 32:21-24).
 
And Saul said to Samuel, “I have obeyed the voice of the LORD. I have gone on the mission on which the LORD sent me. I have brought Agag the king of Amalek, and I have devoted the Amalekites to destruction. But the people took of the spoil, sheep and oxen, the best of the things devoted to destruction, to sacrifice to the LORD your God in Gilgal.” And Samuel said, “Has the LORD as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the LORD? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to listen than the fat of rams. For rebellion is as the sin of divination, and presumption is as iniquity and idolatry. Because you have rejected the word of the LORD, he has also rejected you from being king.” (1Sam 15:20-23).
 
Dene Ward

The first time he said it I was confused.  The second time I was a little miffed. 

              “We’re going home,” Keith told someone of our upcoming visit to his parents’ house in Arkansas, early in our marriage.

              Home?  Home was where I was, where we lived together, not someplace 1100 miles away.

              I suppose I didn’t understand because I didn’t have that sense of home.  We moved a few times when I was a child, and then my parents moved more after I married.  I never use that phrase “back home” of any place but where I live at the moment.  But a lot of people do.  I hear them talk about it often, going “back home” to reunions and homecomings, visiting the places they grew up and knew from before they could remember.

              But what was it the American author Thomas Wolfe said?  “You can’t go home again.”  Wolfe died on September 15, 1938.  His book of that title was published posthumously on September 28, 1940, and those words have come to mean that you cannot relive childhood memories.  Things are constantly changing and you will always be disappointed.

              Abraham and Sarah and the other early patriarchs did not believe that. 

              These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For they that say such things make it manifest that they are seeking after a country of their own. Hebrews 11:13-14.

              That phrase “country of their own” is the Greek word for “Fatherland” or “homeland” or “native country.”  Those people believed they were headed home in the same sense that Keith talked about going back to the Ozarks.  Some question whether the people of the Old Testament believed in life after death.  They not only believed they were going to live in that promised country after death, they believed they had come from there—that it was where they belonged.

              That may be our biggest problem.  We do not understand that we belong in Heaven, that God sent us from there and wants us back, that it is the Home we are longing for, the only place that will satisfy us.  We are too happy here, too prosperous in this life, too secure on this earth. 

              Try asking someone if they want to go to Heaven.  “Of course,” they will say.  Then ask if they would like to go now and see the difference in their response.  It is good that we have attachments here, and a sense of duty to those people.  It is not good when we see those attachments as far better than returning to our homeland and our Father and Brother.  Paul said, For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if to live in the flesh, - if this shall bring fruit from my work, then what I shall choose I know not. But I am in a strait between the two, having the desire to depart and be with Christ; for it is very far better: yet to abide in the flesh is more needful for your sake. Philippians 1:21-24.   Paul knew the better choice.  Staying here for the Philippians’ sake was a sacrifice to him, a necessary evil.

              Heaven isn’t supposed to be like an all-expenses-paid vacation away from home—it’s supposed to be Home—the only Home that matters.

              How do you view Heaven?  The way you see it may just make the difference in how easy or difficult it is for you to get there.
 
Being therefore always of good courage, and knowing that, while we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord (for we walk by faith, not by sight); we are of good courage, I say, and are willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be at home with the Lord, 2 Corinthians 5:6-8.
 
Dene Ward

Blessed is everyone who fears the LORD, who walks in his ways! You shall eat the fruit of the labor of your hands; you shall be blessed, and it shall be well with you. Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within your house; your children will be like olive shoots around your table. Behold, thus shall the man be blessed who fears the LORD. The LORD bless you from Zion! May you see the prosperity of Jerusalem all the days of your life! May you see your children's children! Peace be upon Israel! Ps 128.
 
            Nearly every commentator believes the Psalms of Ascents (120-134) were psalms sung by families as they made their way up the hill (ascending) to Jerusalem to worship on the feast days, especially the agricultural feast days of Passover, Tabernacles, and Weeks.  As such you see in your mind’s eye the extended family of parents, children, grandparents, and perhaps maiden aunts or other singles stepping out to the tune of these psalms, year after year, a tradition kept by every generation.  This particular psalm is a picture of the life that family leads the rest of the year, another routine that some might even consider dull but which God calls blessed.

              The father works, but the implication is not one of a career-minded workaholic.  This man labors for his family, to provide those meals they meet around the table to eat together and the sacrifices they are able to make on their annual pilgrimages. 

              The mother is “a fruitful vine within the house.”  That does not mean she never steps outside the door—it means she, too, is family-oriented.  Like the ideal woman of Proverbs 31, caring for her family may force her to leave the home occasionally, but she is the direct opposite of that other woman in Proverbs:  She is loud and wayward; her feet do not stay at home; now in the street, now in the market, and at every corner she lies in wait, Prov 7:11-12.

              This blessed family meets at the table every evening and has their meal together.  And several times a year they make that journey to Jerusalem, to God’s Temple, to the assembled worship prescribed by the Law.  When I think about this family, I think of my childhood.  Every Sunday we had a routine.  We rose, ate breakfast together, and then dressed to go meet with the saints.  No one ever asked where we would be or what we would do on Sunday.  We all knew exactly where we would be and what we would be doing.

              When I raised my family, the same thing happened.  Maybe the routine was a little different, but it was a routine.  My boys never had to ask what or where.  They knew.

              And now I watch my son and his family doing the same thing.  It may be a different routine, but it leads them to the same place—a meeting with the people of God.

              A lot of people think that routine is useless, that since it is so much routine it no longer has any meaning.  But consider this for one minute.  What if we had to do this in secret?  What if the church had been bankrupted because of its beliefs, its leaders fined or even jailed, and our only recourse was to go “underground?”  This country is fast moving in that direction.  These things may not happen in our lifetimes, but our children or grandchildren will almost certainly face them.  I know God has a plan, but His plans have not always meant that none of His people suffered or even died.

              What you look at with disdain today may sometime in the future be a distant memory of how well we had it.  Of families that could meet every Sunday in a place they had pooled their resources to buy, with a sign on the side of the road that proclaimed who we are and what we were doing:  Christians meet here.

              Suddenly, the routine you consider boring and unmeaningful will be the thing you wish you had appreciated far more when you had it.  Think about that and appreciate it like you ought to today.
 
I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the LORD!” Our feet have been standing within your gates, O Jerusalem! Jerusalem— built as a city that is bound firmly together, to which the tribes go up, the tribes of the LORD, as was decreed for Israel, to give thanks to the name of the LORD. There thrones for judgment were set, the thrones of the house of David. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem! “May they be secure who love you! Peace be within your walls and security within your towers!” For my brothers and companions' sake I will say, “Peace be within you!” For the sake of the house of the LORD our God, I will seek your good, Psalm 122
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.
 
"It is not," I muttered under my breath when the deacon with the announcements said, "Good morning."  The problem with someone who is upwards of 80% hearing loss muttering is that it may not be as "under the breath" as he supposed.  Despite the cacophony of "good morning" replies, he heard me and with a slightly startled expression said, "Well, good morning, Keith."

Well, it was NOT a good morning.  The hurried hurricane prep before there was much thought of Dorian turning any way but right over us had my injured shoulders aching, and ladders are the bane of aging hips.  To top it off, the transmitter that goes to my hearing aids was mailed off to the shop.  When I have it, I can put it in the pulpit and tune my aids to "it only" reception.  That means the speaker's voice is as close as though his mouth was at my ear but I can still see him to lip read.  Baby noises and other noises are as far from my ear as they are from the speaker and my transmitter.

Most speakers drop their voices at the end of a phrase, especially with punchlines.  Most men who lead prayers think it is more reverent to lower their voices and sound systems magnify the whispery quality of such voices.  The transmitter enables me to have any hope of understanding either.  And, it allows me to relax and enjoy a good sermon by a good speaker. 

At 72, I was tired, sore, aching; I came anyway.  I made a couple of fairly decent comments in Bible class, in fact the best ones made (by virtue of being the only ones made).  I knew that I would not be able to hear the announcements or the prayers.  I came anyway.  At best, my hearing is a fill in the blank process wherein I hear some sounds, lip-read some sounds and make educated guesses at the other sounds to form a sentence and a paragraph and make sense of a speech.  I was too tired to manage that effort on a consistent basis and got very little from the sermons.  Things just do not make sense when you only get a word here, a phrase there, a sentence or two somewhere else.  I knew it would likely be that way before I left the house--but I came anyway.

What do you do when it is NOT a good day?  Is it an excuse?

Well, someone asks, "What did you get out of it?"  

First, that is the wrong question, we are at church to give, not to get, And let us be concerned about one another in order to promote love and good works, not staying away from our worship meetings, as some habitually do, but encouraging each other, and all the more as you see the day drawing near.  (Heb 10:24-25).  I was there which spoke where my loyalties and faith are.  In the intermissions, I spoke words of encouragement to some that I knew needed such.  I sang.  Now, I cannot even tell if I am on a key, much less which one, so I try to keep my volume down to avoid ruining the worship of others.  I was happy, with the exception of that blurted sentence, which was not meant to be heard.

Second, I took my place in a house built of living stones for a habitation of God in the Spirit.  God was there; I was there.   The place of worship would have been less had my stone been absent.  All would have been affected.
And yes, we are there to be built up as we build others.  I worshipped as best I could, prayed my own prayers while others prayed together, sang, gave, took the Lord's Supper with the family of God, my family, and left feeling it was not such a bad morning after all.

So are you there, "Anyway?"  or only when the stars align and it is convenient?
 
Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, And into his courts with praise: Give thanks unto him, and bless his name.  For Jehovah is good; his lovingkindness endures forever, and his faithfulness unto all generations.  (Ps 100:4-5).
 
Keith Ward

Silas and Judah stay with for a few days nearly every year, and they always leave me with great stories to tell and lessons to learn.  This one was several years ago.
 
             The first morning we gathered up swimsuits, towels and water toys for a trip to their great-grandmother’s (“Gran-Gran”) in a subdivision with a pool at the community center.  We nabbed the pool pass off her wall and headed down the shady lane with mounting excitement only to find a sign posted on the gate to the pool:  “The pool is temporarily closed due to health concerns.”

              They did as well as they could, for a five-year-old and a two-year-old, at hiding their disappointment, but on the trip home Keith and I were desperately trying to come up with a solution.  Finally we hit upon one.  Our neighbor owns a veterinary supply business.  Many of his products come in bright blue plastic barrels slightly larger than 55 gallon drums, which he empties as he fills smaller bottles for his customers.  He often gives us the empties which we wash out and use for all sorts of things.  We happened to have two that were cut down to about two feet deep.

              Granddad rolled those tubs out to the yard in the shade of the huge live oaks on the west side of the house and filled them with water.  Then we divvied up plastic cups and water guns and plopped a little boy in each tub along with all the paraphernalia.  As children will, especially kids as bright as these, they soon had a good game or two going, and we grandparents managed to stay out of the way of most of the water, if not all of it, especially those extra long squirts from the water guns.

              Then Silas, the older boy, came up with the best game, the one that splashed the most water and got him the wettest.  He stood up as tall as he could, and to the cry of “Cowabunga!” lifted both feet in a big jump and landed on his seat in the tub.  The water displacement alone was awesome, especially for such a skinny little boy.  He usually wound up with his head barely above the water, even choking on it occasionally.  Good thing those tubs were well-washed.

              Judah adores his big brother.  If Silas does it, he does it.  If Silas says it, he says it too.  Or at least tries.  But he is not without at least some measure of caution.  I watched as he considered his brother’s maniacal call and monumental splash.  He seemed to weigh things for a moment and then finally came to a decision.  “Cowabunda!” he cried, which was a little easier to say, then jumped up in the air, landing on his feet and squatting carefully in his own little blue tub.  Even being several inches shorter, more of him stayed out of the water and the splash was much less.  He may have imitated his brother’s actions, but he had not made the same commitment.

              And that is often where our Christianity stops.  We make a good show of it, but the heart isn’t there.  When the time of sacrifice comes, when we might end up floundering in deep water, it’s asking too much.  Which is exactly what the Lord does ask for—everything.

              In those classic commitment passages of Luke 9 and 14, he makes it plain that nothing can be more important to you than he is.  Not comfort and convenience (9:57,58); not family (9:59,60; 14:20); not business (14:18); not possessions (14:19); nothing can get in the way.  Then we have one that I had a hard time figuring out.

              Yet another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.”  Luke 9:61.  We already have several references to family relationships, especially when you add “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me,” and the like.  Then I remembered the call of Elisha.  He too asked Elijah if he could go home and kiss his parents goodbye, and yes, Elijah allowed him to not only do that, but to prepare a feast with the very oxen he had been plowing with at his call (1 Kgs 19:19-21).  Surely Jesus was referring to this well-known bit of Jewish history when he said, “No, you cannot go home and say goodbye.”

              So perhaps it means, “I am even more important than a great prophet like Elijah,” the one most Jews considered the greatest prophet of all.  To make such an assertion was astounding, and to follow Jesus as he required meant one accepted that claim too.  Yes, Jesus asked for it all, even placing your social and religious life on the line by accepting his teaching and claims.

              You can’t dip your toes in the water and claim to be his disciple.  You have to take the plunge, even if it means landing hard and choking on the water when you do.  If you’re scared of making waves in your little blue tub of a world, chances are you have never made the commitment you should have.
 
And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.  For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself? For whoever is ashamed of me and of my words, of him will the Son of Man be ashamed when he comes in his glory and the glory of the Father and of the holy angels, Luke 9:23-26.
 
Dene Ward

Picky Pete is another character from the book in the table manners section.  He is the child who will only eat about 5 things—if you are lucky—and it must be the correct brand prepared in the correct way or it doesn't count.  If you have a Picky Pete—and I did—you must eventually teach him to gratefully accept what is placed before him.  Unless he has a certifiable illness or allergy, it is rude not to.  In the first place, someone has worked long and hard to prepare that meal.  In the second, and most important, God has provided it, and that is the only reason he is not starving.  (But parents, cleaning your plate is not predicated on the children in China, okay?)
 
             We had a rule in our house.  You try everything once.  And if you ever say, "Yuk!" (or "Eeew" or any other such word of disgust) you have to eat a double serving.  At least I was never embarrassed at someone else's house that way, and they did discover that some things they thought might be awful actually tasted pretty good.

              The problem with Picky Pete is that the more he is catered to, the worse he gets.  And when he grows up, it will show in ways that are much more of a problem. 

              Remind them of these things, and charge them before God not to quarrel about words, which does no good, but only ruins the hearers.  (2Tim 2:14 )

              Have nothing to do with foolish, ignorant controversies; you know that they breed quarrels.  (2Tim 2:23 )

              As I urged you when I was going to Macedonia, remain at Ephesus so that you may charge certain persons not to teach any different doctrine, nor to devote themselves to myths and endless genealogies, which promote speculations rather than the stewardship from God that is by faith. (1Tim 1:3,4 )

              Pay special attention to that last one.  Folks, we are not talking about doctrine.  God expects exact obedience.  You cannot honestly study the whole Bible and come up with any other conclusion.  But some things are just not worth bringing up, especially in a mixed group of beginners and older Christians.  They will cause more confusion than clarity.  And you know exactly what I am talking about.  Picky Pete loves these things, and he doesn't care whose faith he ruins, just so he can get a good argument going.  Wise, considerate people who enjoy discussing those trickier things, and whose faith is mature enough to handle it, know that is it better to get together privately to do so.

              Picky Pete is not about details—God expects us to faithfully follow the pattern.  No, Picky Pete is about causing a ruckus regardless the collateral damage.
 
He is puffed up with conceit and understands nothing. He has an unhealthy craving for controversy and for quarrels about words, which produce envy, dissension, slander, evil suspicions, and constant friction among people who are depraved in mind and deprived of the truth... 1 Tim 6:4,5
 
Dene Ward

I can’t really believe it.  I was going through all those painful physical therapy exercises you have to do to keep moving when you have injuries or surgeries, and to keep my mind off the pain and the endless repetitions, I flipped on a channel that runs only old shows, about the only kind I can stand to watch any longer.  On a defunct old program I suddenly heard something profound enough to catch my attention.  A character was complaining about his life and how bad he felt.  Another character looked at him and said, “If you want to feel better, take a pill.  If you want to BE better, face the truth about yourself.”
That old show was the original Perry Mason, which debuted on CBS on September 21, 1957 and ran until May 22, 1966.  It was television's first weekly one hour drama.  Based on Erle Stanley Gardner's books, it was every bit the hit they were, collecting a Golden Globe and at least 4 Emmys, along with a Silver Gavel Award from the American Bar Association.  I remember hearing that stirring music as my parents watched the show from the warmth of my bed as a very small child.  I was an adult before I ever saw an episode or read one of the books.

              As for that line of dialogue, it was spoken by Raymond Burr as he portrayed the eminent lawyer. I stopped mid-rep, losing count completely.  What was that I had heard?  I repeated it to myself at least three times so I wouldn’t forget it—maybe—and it was weighty enough a thought that it did stay with me until I could write it down.  “This one I must use sometime,” I thought, and then suddenly realized that God has been using it for millennia, sort of.

              “Face the truth about yourself,” we say.  He says:

              Be not wise in your own eyes…Prov 3:7.

              There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death, Prov 16:25.

              Every way of a man is right in his own eyes, but the Lord weighs the heart, Prov 21:2.

              There are those who are clean in their own eyes but are not washed of their filth, Prov 30:12.

              He feeds on ashes, his deluded mind deceives him, he cannot rescue himself,,,Isa 44:20.

              Let no one deceive himself.  If anyone among you thinks he is wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise, 1 Cor 3:18.

              For if anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself, Gal 6:3.

              If anyone thinks he is religious but does not bridle his tongue and deceives his heart, this person’s religion is worthless, James 1:26.

              Your head should be spinning by now.  How many times have I deceived myself into ignoring rebukes and shunning well-intentioned advice?  And then, when it all falls apart and I am left hurt and weeping, did I ever once stop and think over that advice and those rebukes again and think maybe—just maybe—I should have listened?  Maybe—just maybe—I am not as astute as I seem to think I am.  Oh, I say the right words (“I am not perfect”), but when the fruit reveals itself in my actions, everyone knows I cannot be reasoned with because “My case is different.”  So many people think themselves the exception to the rule that you wonder why God bothered to write a guidebook for us—it doesn’t apply to anyone! 

              A rebuke should make me stop and consider, not stomp and smolder.  Yes, that is still difficult.  I am not sure it ever becomes easy.  But those scriptures up there say that if I do not consider, the vengeance I wreak with my answering anger to the one who cared enough to try, will only destroy me.

              “If you want to feel better, take a pill.  If you want to BE better, face the truth about yourself.”
 
But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing. Jas 1:22-25
 
Dene Ward

Summer thunderstorms are nothing unusual in Florida.  Even when we don’t have a hurricane, we can count on dark skies, roiling clouds, strong winds, and heavy downpours almost every afternoon from June through September.  This summer seems to have been worse than usual.

              Just in the past four days we have had two storms that knocked the power out for a total of seven hours, with two plus inches falling in an hour’s time.  In fact, this last time we had an inch and a half in thirty minutes flat.  The water ran down from the top of the hill in a river around the house and down to the creek just past the boundary fence.  The wind blew the rain in vertical sheets, leaving standing water an inch deep on the covered carport, and the screened porch floor wet to the wall of the house.  The wind blew in gusts that twisted fifteen foot long pine limbs off the trees—green limbs, not rotten ones.  Smaller limbs flew by as we watched, almost as thick as the rainwater.  The lightning was loud and close and almost constant.  When I stepped inside and saw the power was out I was not really surprised.  This was one angry storm.

              And suddenly I thought, “This was the kind of rain Noah lived through.”  God was angry.  He would not have sent a gentle patter of raindrops on that gopher wood roof.  His wrath would have been obvious in the gusty winds tearing roofs off houses and branches off trees.  He would have vented his anger in the boom of thunder rolling over the hills, hills that slowly and inevitably disappeared under the waves.  That last storm we had scared me just a little; I bet the one Noah endured for forty days was terrifying.

              And we need to be terrified too.  An angry God is not the God we want to face on judgment day.  Do not let the world, and sometimes even the brethren, blur your view of an irate God who cannot countenance sin.  You need that picture to keep you straight sometimes, and so do I.  It’s too easy to think, “This is no big deal; God won’t mind this once; God is a God of mercy,” and forget the God of wrath and vengeance.  Don’t let anyone turn “fear” into nothing more than respect.  You can love someone and fear them too.  Anyone who had a godly father knows that.  Don’t let them lie to you and steal your soul by telling you otherwise.

              By the end of summer I am ready for a calm fall.  I want sunny days and gentle breezes.  I am sure that’s what we want from God too, but just as those storms do good for this land—replenishing the water table and keeping the tropical plants green—remembering the stormy wrath of God can do your soul good too.  Don’t forget it.
 
Therefore thus says the Lord GOD: I will make a stormy wind break out in my wrath, and there shall be a deluge of rain in my anger, and great hailstones in wrath to make a full end, Ezek 13:13.

But sexual immorality and all impurity or covetousness must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints. Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving. For you may be sure of this, that everyone who is sexually immoral or impure, or who is covetous ( that is, an idolater), has no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God. Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of these things the wrath of God comes upon the sons of disobedience, Eph 5:3-6.
 
Dene Ward