Flight Paths

On May 8, 1902, Mt Pele erupted on the island of Martinique.  A few days earlier, birds had fallen from the sky covered in ash and one of the rivers along its slopes rose and fell as if a giant plunger were being used on it.  On another day, gigantic centipedes and deadly vipers came slithering down the mountain, disturbed by the rumbling and the tremors.  At least 50 people died from those.  Yet the citizens were all assured by authorities as high as the governor that St Pierre, the cultural center of the island, which sat about 7 km from the mountain, was safe.  In fact, the governor brought his entire family to that town to show his confidence in all the experts. 

             Then on May 8, a flash like lightning exploded from the mouth of the volcano and a cloud of poisonous gas reaching temperatures estimated at 350-400 degrees Celsius formed and fell on the city of St Pierre so quickly that no one could escape, killing 30,000 in an instant, most from suffocation or scalded lungs.  All the expert opinions in the world did not keep them from dying, and it happened in a flash, before they could do anything to save themselves.
 
             For them it was the end of the world, but I doubt it held a candle to the fiery cataclysm in Genesis 19:  Jehovah rained upon Sodom and Gomorrah brimstone and fire from Jehovah out of heaven, and he overthrew those cities and all the Plain, and all the inhabitants of the cities and that which grew upon the ground, vv 24,25.
 
             We know how Lot wound up in Sodom, but did you ever wonder where his wife came from?  When Lot left Ur with Abraham, Abraham’s wife is mentioned, Lot’s wife is not.  Is that because she was not important to the story, or because she wasn’t there yet? 
    
           Although Lot moved to the plain of Jordan in Gen 13:11, he was actually living in Sodom by 14:12.  We have first mention of “the women” in 14:16, but that could have referred to servants—remember, at one point he had quite a few.  Lot’s wife is not specifically mentioned until he is actually living in Sodom.  Between 12:4 and 18:10, twenty-four years have elapsed, plenty of time to marry and have marriageable daughters, especially in a day where marrying them off at puberty was the custom.  Since Sodom is not actually destroyed until chapter 19, it is quite possible that Lot’s wife was a native of Sodom.  It would certainly make her attachment to the city, and her looking back, much more understandable. 
  
           Jesus utters the words of the title above when he is warning his followers about the destruction of Jerusalem in Luke 17.  When the time came, they were to flee, giving no thought to the life they were leaving behind.  Any delay caused by the desire for that life would cause them to lose any hope of a future life.  The warning, Remember Lot’s wife, also carried with it the idea of regretting what was left behind.  As a matter of fact, the next morning Abraham looked at those same cities Lot and his family were told not to look at, Gen 19:27,28, but he did not turn into a pillar of salt.  He was not sorry these wicked places were destroyed; he was probably wondering if Lot and his family had made it out alive.  Lot’s wife, on the other hand, was looking back like the man who put his hand to the plow and looked back.  God wants a real commitment from us, with no lingering attachment to the old way of life.

              So no, we do not really know where Lot’s wife came from, but it is safe to assume she loved her life in Sodom.  If she came from there, that might explain it—family, friends, and familiar surroundings.  But if she did not, she still might be the reason he finally made the actual move into the city.  She left only because she was forced to, Gen 19:16, and because she so plainly regretted it, God counted her with the Sodomites and destroyed her too.  Being in Sodom was not the crux of the matter, but rather, being like Sodom, and liking that place all too well.

              How about me?  Do I live the Christian life because I love it, or because I feel forced into it, regretting the loss of my old life and wishing I were there?  Do I put my hand to the plow and look back?  Do I get along so well with the world that no one sees a difference between me and them?  If God were still in the salt business, what would I look like today?
 
Being filled with all unrighteousness, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness, full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, malignity, whisperers, backbiters, hateful to God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents, without understanding, covenant-breakers, without natural affection, unmerciful, who, knowing the ordinance of God, that they that practice such things are worthy of death, not only they who do the same, but who take pleasure in them that do them.  Rom 1:28-32
 
Dene Ward

For twenty-two years on this rural five acres we didn’t have a carport.  For over two decades our vehicles were at the mercy of sub-tropical sun, thunder and lightning, hail, hurricanes, and even once an inch of snow.  Not a single time were the cars or trucks we owned damaged during that time.

              Eight years ago we had a slab poured and a carport erected.  “Whew!” we sighed with relief.  “Now we’re safe.”

              The next summer we were expecting guests and since the forecast called for a few showers, we moved the car out so the children would have a dry place to play.  Everyone left and we went inside to clean up.  When we came back outside to move the car back into the carport, a tree limb had fallen and put a dent in the trunk—a big one, and knocked off a half dollar size chunk of paint too.  All those years we were concerned and careful, nothing happened.  As soon as we thought we were safe, we weren’t.

              One who is wise is cautious and turns away from evil, but a fool is reckless and careless, Proverbs 14:16.  How careful are you out there in the world?  Do you heed the warnings about evil companions corrupting good morals, and the Devil as a roaring lion hunting his prey (1 Cor 15:53; 1 Pet 5:9)?  Or are you so confident in your own righteousness that you are careless, moving away from the safety of the “carport?”

              How many times has a parent sent his child out with all the usual cautions only to have that child sigh and roll his eyes and say something like, “Yes, yes, I know,” shaking his head as he goes out the door?  I don’t care how well your life has gone until now, how safe and smart you think you are, one bad decision can ruin everything for a lifetime.  Keep it under the carport!

              How many times has a happily married man, supremely confident of his self-control, seen someone attractive, flirted a little “just for fun,” and wound up doing exactly what he never thought he ever would?  No matter how strong you think you are, don’t dally with the Devil—keep it under the carport!

              How many times has a Christian stepped over the line “just this once,” “to see what I’m missing,” or “so I know what I’m up against,” meaning to return immediately to the fold, but never making that return trip because that little fling cost him his life?  Life isn’t certain—keep it under the carport!

              You think I’m crazy don’t you, just because a limb fell on my car.  The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice, Prov 12:15.

             And if coming from me isn’t good enough—and really, why should it be?—then how about God?  By the fear of the Lord one turns away from evil, Prov 16:6.  My flesh trembles for fear of you, and I am afraid of your judgments, Psa 119:120.  Job said if he had done anything wrong, then let my shoulder blade fall from my shoulder, and let my arm be broken from its socket. For I was in terror of calamity from God, and I could not have faced his majesty. 31:22-23. If no one else can do it, then let God put the fear in you—keep it under the carport!

              We wear seat belts every time because we never know when we will have an accident.  We get our inoculations because we never know when we might be exposed to a disease.  We have smoke alarms in our homes because we never know when a fire might break out.  We do all these things because it’s common sense.  So are the things God’s Word tells us about how to stay out of the clutches of sin and the Devil. 

              You’d better believe that from now on, my car will stay under the carport!  How about your soul?
 
For you yourselves are fully aware that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. While people are saying, "There is peace and security," then sudden destruction will come upon them as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and they will not escape. 1 Thessalonians 5:2-3
 
Dene Ward

It’s been over three decades now.  Things have always been tight for us, but that particular time was the worst.  Through no fault of his own, Keith was in between preaching jobs, making ends meet with a couple of part time jobs and two or three preaching appointments a month, while finishing up his degree on the GI Bill.  I had a twenty-month old, was five months pregnant, and battling both an ulcer and gall stones.  Every month we pulled the belt a little bit tighter.

              I had $20 a week to spend on groceries—period.  Even in that day it was only about half what others spent, even those who thought they were living closely.  I bought one piece of meat or poultry a week and made it last four or five days.  A whole chicken (19 cents a pound) provided the breasts for our one splurge meal that week—we actually had a whole chunk of meat on our plates.  The next day I used the thighs for a casserole of some sort, and with enough filler like rice or noodles it lasted two nights.  Then I boiled the backs, wings, and neck in a huge pot of water as a base for chicken and dumplings, a copious amount of dumplings, for another two night meal.  The other two nights that week we filled up on meatless meals—cheese omelets, pancakes or waffles, black beans and rice, pinto beans and cornbread, lentil soup, or on really tight days—biscuits and gravy, the gravy using only bacon drippings, flour, and milk.  Don’t ever judge a person’s wealth, or even their self-control, by their girth.  Poor people food is fattening food.  Only the economically comfortable can afford fresh fruits and vegetables, whole grains, lean meat, and fish.

              Besides learning to stretch a dollar, I also learned to eat more slowly.  My little boy may have been a toddler, but he still needed to eat to grow.  I gave him the small plateful I thought he could eat, but often, when he asked for “more,” the only “more” was on my plate.  I had already rationed Keith to the point that I worried that a grown man working that many hours a day had enough to survive.  So I willingly scraped off what was left on my plate onto my child’s.  I was more than happy to do that for him.  When we chose to have these children, we automatically took on the responsibility to feed them and care for them, even if it meant we didn’t eat.

              I am afraid I am seeing parents who don’t believe that any more.  I know many fine young Christians who automatically sacrifice for their children, but the world doesn’t seem to think that’s normal.  Have you looked at the magazine rack in the grocery store?  Have you heard the discussions with people who think that everyone but they themselves should pay for their child’s basic necessities?  But let’s keep this personal instead of political.

                “I’m so tired.”  “I’m so stressed.”  “I don’t have time for me any more.”

              No, you don’t.  Yes, it’s exhausting, it’s frustrating, it’s completely overwhelming.  That’s what happens when you take on the care of a completely helpless human being.  That’s what you signed on for when you decided to have a child.  That’s the commitment you made when you decided to enjoy the act that might produce that child.

              You may not have as much time to primp and preen as you’re used to.  You may go weeks or months without being able to enjoy your favorite pastime or hobby.  You may go seven years without a single new article of clothing because any pennies you can squeeze out of the paycheck go to the three shirts, three pairs of pants, four pairs of underwear, four pairs of socks, and one pair of shoes you must buy for a growing child every six months at yard sales, outlets, and consignment shops.  You may even scrape the food off your plate. 

              That’s what loving, responsible parents do, and they never begrudge the sacrifice, especially not the time, because one day, far too soon, you wake up and it’s over.  No more babies to rock, no more stickers to put on the potty training chart, no more little fingers in the cookie dough.  You’ll have all the time in the world for yourself—your career, your hobbies, your hair appointments and shopping sprees—but no amount of wishing will give you back the time you could have spent teaching, training, nurturing and loving your children into a happy, productive adulthood, and they will probably pay for that neglect in one way or another.
 
Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate. Psalms 127:3-5
 
Dene Ward

Tarragon is a difficult herb.  It’s even hard to find at the local garden shops.  You have to go to the independent, specialty shops where everything costs twice as much.  Then when you get it, it’s hard to grow.  Not only is the flavor delicate, so is the plant.  I have killed more than my share of these fragile babies. 
 
             But speaking of delicate flavor, it is almost paradoxical that something so delicate is also so distinctive.  Like cilantro, you know when a dish has even a hint of tarragon in it, but at the same time it won’t take over.  Tarragon in a chicken salad makes it a main event, and I have a pork chop recipe with tarragon cream sauce that turns that mundane diner staple into fine dining.  (See the recipe page if you are interested.)

              As I said, I usually wind up killing whatever tarragon plants I manage to find.  I always thought it was the heat, but maybe it’s me.  Somehow, last year’s plant survived until frost.  Then I got another wonderful surprise.  This spring it came back from the root.  I didn’t believe it at first.  It looked like tarragon, and it was in the same spot as the plant last summer, but I still didn’t believe it—not until I pinched off a leaf and smelled it.  Yesssss!  This year I don’t have to comb the garden shops looking for another one to kill.  It’s right there in my herb bed, waiting for its execution day.

              Speaking of these sorts of things, I find it bewildering that people get themselves so wrought up over whether or not the Lord’s church existed somewhere in hiding in the Middle Ages.  Maybe it did; maybe it didn’t.  Maybe there actually was a spell when no one alive even bothered trying to follow the New Testament pattern.  Why should that affect my faith?  The seed is the Word of God, Luke 8:11.  We still have that seed.  We can still plant it and it will produce after its own kind, just as God ordained for every seed from the moment He created the first one. 

              Sometimes we keep leftover seeds in the freezer.  If we had a bumper crop and I put up way too much corn, I may not plant any the next year, or even the next.  But when I get that seed out, as I did a few weeks ago, we can plant it again, and lo and behold there is now corn growing in the garden, a few silks already turning brown. It will happen every time we plant that seed, no matter how long it’s been since the last time we planted it.  The same will happen when we plant the Word of God, the seed that produces Christians.

              And what’s more, we still have the Root, and that’s even better.  As long as the gospel exists and we can preach about that Root, the one who came to earth, lived as we do, died, and rose again, faith will spring up from that Root, and the Lord’s body will once again exist. 

              Why is this so surprising?  Why indeed should it bother me one way or the other if I trust God?  He ordained this rule.  Who could ever undo it?  And Abraham believed God and it was reckoned unto him for righteousness. (Rom 4:3).  Do you believe Him?
 
And again Isaiah says, "The root of Jesse will come, even he who arises to rule the Gentiles; in him will the Gentiles hope." May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope. Romans 15:12-13
 
Dene Ward

As soon as the garden is planted it starts—our evening stroll to see how it fares, what has come up, what is bearing, what is ripe and ready to pick the next morning, which plants show signs of disease or insects, and then, what should we do about it.  It’s a habit, a ritual almost, one we look forward to every year.

              Sometimes I think that God must love gardens too.  The first place he built for man, the perfect place, was a garden--and Jehovah planted a garden, eastward, in Eden, and there he put the man whom he had formed, Gen 2:8.  And it was in that garden that He walked with man every evening.  I wonder what they talked about.  Probably a lot of the things we talk about—but then maybe not.

              What will be ripe tomorrow?  Yes, they might have discussed that, because Eden probably produced a bumper crop.  Do we need to spray for bugs?  No, not that, for bugs were not a problem.  What will be ready for supper tomorrow night?  Yes, the choice was probably endless.  Do we need to pull the plants that are infected with blight so they won’t infect others?  No, definitely not that question--at least not at the beginning.  Eventually, though, Adam was discussing with Eve exactly what we discuss about our far from perfect garden.  Yes, we need to spray.  Yes, we need to water.  Yes, we need to pull those weeds out before they choke out the plants, and I sure hope there’s enough produce to put up for next year too!

              We each have a garden.  The Song of Solomon uses the term to refer to the physical body and chastity.  I have no trouble using it to refer to my soul as well.  Shouldn’t I be out there every evening with God, surveying that garden, examining it for pests and disease, looking for wilt and fungus, making decisions about how to save that garden and make it bear the most fruit for the Lord?

              Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves. Or do you not realize this about yourselves, that Jesus Christ is in you?--unless indeed you fail to meet the test! 2 Corinthians 13:5

              Prove me, O LORD, and try me; test my heart and my mind. Psalms 26:2

              Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!  Psalms 139:23-24

              We even sing that last one.  Do we mean it?  Do we really want to look closely enough to see how to properly tend our gardens, gardens that belong to God?  Are we really willing to look through His word long enough and deeply enough to find our faults and fix them?

              Every evening God expects you to meet Him in that garden of a soul, to plant His word in it and tend it as necessary, even if it becomes painful.  He knows it is the only way for that garden to produce, so that you can someday be in the new Garden of Eden with Him.
 
The righteous flourish like the palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the LORD; they flourish in the courts of our God. They still bear fruit in old age; they are ever full of sap and green, to declare that the LORD is upright; he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him. Psalms 92:12-15
 
Dene Ward

Living in the country has meant adapting.  In many ways it has been good for me.  The city girl found out she could learn and change, even though change is a thing I have never liked.  I love routine.  Now, after 38 years, it isn’t change, it’s just a new routine, and that helps when I have had many more changes in the past few years, and see more coming.

              One of the things I learned quickly was to make sure I had everything I needed to get by for the week.  A sixty to eighty mile round trip, depending upon which side of town what I need is on and how many other places I have to stop as well, doesn’t happen more than once a week even if you did forget the bread or run out of milk.  You learn to do without. You don’t change your mind about the menu unless you already have on hand the things the preferred dish needs.  When an unexpected guest arrives and you want to offer a meal, you put another potato in the pot, double the biscuit recipe, and get out another package of frozen garden corn, and if you didn’t plan dessert that night, you put the home-canned jellies and jams on the table.  So far, no one has complained.
I have learned to be organized.  I do everything in one visit, and usually that coincides with a doctor appointment or a women’s Bible class.  I keep track of everything I run out of, or run low on, as the week progresses, and buy it all in the order that uses the least gas.  I keep staples well stocked.

              I have also learned that I don’t have to have everything I think I do.  The only store close to us is a tire store, about three miles down the country highway.  The man has been in business for 40 years.  Our children went to school with his, and somehow he has made a good living selling tires in the smallest county in Florida just outside a village that might have a population of 100 if you count the dogs.   But as far as shopping, it doesn’t do much for me.  You can’t try tires on, they don’t do much for the home décor, and window shopping is the pits.  So I don’t “shop.”

              Sometimes we become slaves to our culture.  We think we must wear certain things, go certain places and do things in a certain way because everyone else does.  We shop and buy because everyone does, not because we need it.  We go see the movies that “everyone” has seen.  We buy a cell phone because “everyone” has one nowadays—“it’s a necessity.”  We run down to the store every time we run out of something instead of carefully making a list of what we need and taking care of it in one, or at most two trips a week, wasting precious time and costing ourselves more money than we realize.  Everyone does, we say.  Maybe we should stop and think about that.

              Why?  First, because it never crosses our minds to be different than everyone.  Is it sinful?  Maybe not, but then why does something have to be sinful before I am willing to look at it and decide whether it is best for me and my situation?  Why am I so afraid to be different?  A Christian should have a mindset that is always looking at things in different ways than the rest of the world.  If I decide this is the best way to live (and not sinful), then fine, but I should, at the least, think about it.  Christians who always act without thinking will eventually do something wrong some time in the future. 

              Second, we are to be good stewards of everything God gives us, including time and money.  If we saved a little time, could we use it in service to God?  Could we offer help to someone in distress?  Would we have more time for visiting the sick and studying with neighbors?  If we saved those few dollars every week, could we give more to the Lord?  Could we help someone in need more often?  Could we be the ones who take a bag of groceries to a family in distress because that day we could buy for them instead of running to the store for yet something else we forgot?

              But we aren’t really talking about running down to the store here.  We’re talking about attitude and priorities—about doing the best we can for our Master in more than a haphazard way.  Paul says we are to “purpose,” or plan, our giving.  I have no doubt that doing so ensures a larger donation than merely waiting till the last minute to see what’s left in the bank or the wallet.  The same thing will be true if we plan our prayer time, study time, and service time.  Instead of running out of time for any of it, we will find ourselves making a habit of the things God expects of us.

              In a parable Jesus praised the steward who was “a faithful and wise manager,” who was always working, always serving, and able to get the appropriate things done at the appropriate time (Luke 12:42).  Those servants, he goes on to say, are always ready for the master’s return.  Are we ready, serving and working as many hours a day as possible as faithful stewards, or are we so disorganized that judgment day will find us at the checkout for the fifth time in a week, just to pick up a forgotten jug of milk?
 
As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace: whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies--in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen. (1Pe 4:10-11)
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.

I have for years followed the advice of a Dr. at the VA who told me to pour warm salt water into the palm of each hand in turn and sniff it up each nostril. I do this each evening with a gargle between and my allergy problems have diminished dramatically. Also, I do this immediately after any dusty activity. A few nights ago, I took my cup to the kitchen, and then got distracted and when I sniffed the warm water, it had no salt! ROARING! Pain. But I thought I put the salt in. It will be a long time before that lapse happens again.

“I thought!” Naaman used those words. We do, too, to excuse our failures to live up to God’s expressed wishes. These days it seems that a lot presume mightily on THEIR concept of the fatherhood of God and treat him casually in the way they speak of him and conduct their worship. I read a commentary on Ezekiel (Block) in which he comments on Ezekiel’s attitude and deportment toward God: “Although this is the third time he sees the [throne chariot] the sight still catches him by surprise and overwhelms him with awe. His relationship with God never becomes familiar or casual—even a commissioned and authorized spokesman must prostrate himself in the presence of God.”

Yet so many have become almost irreverently casual in their speech and dress to worship services. They THOUGHT that because God reveals himself as, “Father” they can buddy up to Daddy with little to no form of expressed respect. My Dad did not allow that and neither did I, and any who do are mighty poor parents. As the Hebrew writer says, “It is for chastening that ye endure; God dealeth with you as with sons; for what son is there whom his father chasteneth not? But if ye are without chastening, whereof all have been made partakers, then are ye bastards, and not sons. Furthermore, we had the fathers of our flesh to chasten us, and we gave them reverence: shall we not much rather be in subjection unto the Father of spirits, and live? (Heb 12:7-9, ASV).

Does no one notice how many times in these 3 verses we read chastening and reverence and subjection? Does it not change that casual attitude to see "Shall we not much more be subject to the Father of spirits and live?" (ESV & CSV).

I never spoke as casually to my boss as some speak to God. And some dress up for work and dress down for God. Did not Malachi say, "Present it now unto thy governor; will he be pleased with thee? or will he accept thy person? saith Jehovah of hosts." (Mal 1:8). In other words, we have better sense than to try to pull off on our bosses or government what we do to God?

These “buddy up to daddy” attitudes come from a very selective view of scripture. Let our reverence be shown in dress and speech and attitude.

Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire  (Heb 12:28-29, ESV).
And if you invoke as Father him who judges each one impartially according to his deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile (1Pet1:17).

            Someone once posted on Facebook about "the scariest day of his life."  That instantly made me wonder what mine was.  When you reach my age, you might have a variety to choose from.
            There was the day I found myself alone and cornered in an office by someone twice my size, who had evil intentions toward me.
               There was the day we raced to the doctor at 90 mph down country roads as I held my seizing two-year-old, wondering if he would die right there in my arms.
            There was the day I found myself looking straight through the windshield into another windshield just seconds before we hit head-on.
            There was the day the telephone operator broke through my conversation with one of my piano student's mother with an emergency cut-in.  Within minutes I heard that my husband had been shot in the line of duty, and I jumped in the car for a sixty mile trip to the hospital, not knowing what I would find when I got there.
            Then there was the week afterward when, because he was under threat from the family of the felon who had ambushed him and because he had five bullet holes in him and was certainly not able to do it himself, I sat up by the window, keeping watch every night.
            There was the day I received another phone call.  My husband had been found lying in the middle of the highway having convulsions.  I followed the ambulance to the hospital and sat for hours wondering how my life was about to change.
            There was the day I signed page after page after page, including handwritten clauses going up the side of the paper saying, "I understand that no one knows how this material will interact with human tissue."  Then I went into a first of its kind surgery with a surgeon who, though one of the best in the world, still had to practice two or three times (on pigs' eyes!) before he touched me, and I was wondering if I would ever see again.
              I am sure other women my age have lists exactly like this one.  I know older women who have much scarier lists.  My own great-grandmother buried four of her children--three tiny ones and another who was killed in World War II.  The length of the list is not the point.  Nothing in this life, no matter how scary, is scarier than this:  facing death knowing one is not right with God.  I will do my best to see that that does not happen.
            How about you?
 
For the time is come for judgment to begin at the house of God: and if it begin first at us, what shall be the end of them that obey not the gospel of God? (1Pet 4:17)
 
Dene Ward