Flight Paths

A few weeks ago Keith took the garbage to the dump in the pickup as he has done out here in the country for over thirty years now.  It's one of the perks of our rural existence—no Waste Management bill, but that means we take care of it ourselves.  So, since the truck hadn’t been driven in a while, he took it down the straightaway a couple miles past our turn-off and back, at highway speed.  A mechanic friend said it was the only way to blow out the pipes, so to speak, and would make the already twenty year old truck last longer.

              When he got home he muttered something about "those pesky wrens" and pulled a nest out of the grillwork on the front of the truck.  It was well past nesting season, even for birds that do so more than once, so he assumed the nest was empty.  As he pulled it out and tossed it, two small wrens fluttered to the grass, then half hopped, half flew to the nearest thing off the ground, the big shop fan on the carport.  Almost immediately the mother wren found her babies and shepherded them to the azaleas while we stood there a little aghast.  For a day or two we watched as they learned of necessity to fly a little sooner than they had planned, and called Chloe off of them more than once.

              Wrens are known for building nests practically anywhere.  This one may have learned a lesson.  In fact, we wondered between us what must have happened as Keith left the dump and sped down that highway.  Somehow I can see two little heads peering over the edge of the nest, looking down the highway as the wind tore at their feathers, glancing at one another with eyes wide and mouths agape. 

              "What's going on, Ethel?"

              "I don't know Lucy, but hang on!"

              The sad part is that most Carolina wrens lay four to six eggs.  Even supposing that some of the others had already flown the nest, it's quite possible that a one or two were actually blown away in that wild ride down the highway.

              Life can be a pretty wild ride.  It's that way because we messed it up a few thousand years ago.  God told Adam and Eve they would face hard work, lots of sweat, pain, and anguish because of their error.  We face the same things, and our part in sin makes it only just. 

              ​You lift me up on the wind; you make me ride on it, and you toss me about in the roar of the storm. (Job 30:22)

              Sometimes the winds of trial blow so hard we have to hang on by our toenails.  Some don't make it down the highway as far as others, being blown aside by disease or accident or simple wear and tear on a fragile, physical body.  And all of that is a blessing, really, even if we do have a hard time seeing it that way.  When God kicked the first couple out of Eden, their access to the Tree of Life ended.  But who would want to live forever in a sin-cursed world when we can move on to something so much better?

              I think we often get too involved in trying to find a reason when the ride gets rough.  It seems to be the only way we can handle a misfortune.  But sometimes it is not about a bad decision we made.  Sometimes it's because someone else decided to go warm up the tires and exercise the engine and we just happened to get caught in the grillwork.  Time and chance happen to all, the Preacher tells us and that may just be the only why there is.  Make the most of it.  The other day Keith came across those two little wrens, hopping, flitting, and flapping in the dust of the dirt floor equipment shed.  They had survived their ordeal and gotten on with life.

              When you reach my age, you find yourself looking back on that daredevil ride you have taken.  You hope you can take a little solace in how you faced it—resolutely, courageously, determined to see it through without whining or complaining too much, without being too embarrassed to look in the mirror and see what you were made of.  Even when the ride is nearly over, the Devil may yet come along and yank you out of the last comfortable place you call home and then what?

              Then you live on the thing that God's people have always survived on—hope.  We seem so busy trying to make this life the reward—when it isn't and never has been for any but the unbeliever—that we seldom talk about hope any longer.  When did you last hear a lesson on Heaven?  Not on what happens after death, something no one can say with any assurance at all anyway, but on what happens when the Lord comes again—the reward for our faithfulness despite the difficulties of this life, despite the roaring winds, the monster of a revving engine trying to gobble us up, the potholes and the bumps in the road.  That reward should be our focus, not this wild ride of a life.  Someday very soon, it won't matter at all.

              "Hang on Lucy!"  Making it through the ride is worth it.
 
When the tempest passes, the wicked is no more, but the righteous is established forever. (Prov 10:25)

Dene Ward

Owning a piece of land was our goal when we moved to this part of the state.  I remember when we finally signed the papers and came out to make plans for our new home site.  Walking on this ground was suddenly different.  Every place we put our feet was ours, or was it? 

              We have done our best to be good stewards of this land, this loan from God.  Stewardship is what being green is all about.  We used this ground for our family’s sustenance.  We raised pigs for their meat and chickens for their eggs.  We grew a large vegetable garden, and a little herb garden closer to the kitchen.  We planted grapevines and blueberry bushes and several kinds of fruit trees. 

              We also tried to make the world a more beautiful place.  We transplanted azaleas, jasmine, roses, and lilies, and have added an amaryllis bed, a trellis of six different flowering vines, wildflowers in the field, and annuals here and there.

              We have used it to create a loving home for our children.  Keith and the boys built a doghouse for all the various family pets.  In the early days they put up a swing set.  Later they set a basketball goal in the field.  They put together a backboard to act as catcher in their three-man baseball game (pitcher-batter-fielder), and hauled in dirt from the back corner of the property to make a pitcher’s mound.  We tried to make this possession of ours a good place, a useful place.  We tried to make it more than just a has-been watermelon field.

              You are God’s possession.  He told his people at least twice in Deuteronomy, “You are my treasured possession.”  We have this tendency to say, “It’s my life; I can do as I please.”  No it isn’t, and no you can’t.  You belong to God.

              Maybe it is more difficult for us in our culture.  We do not understand belonging to a person.  That is slavery, something this country paid a huge price to rid itself of.  But those ancient people did understand.  I found two places in the Old Testament where men told other men, “We are yours.”  (2 Kings 10:5; 1 Chron 12:18)  They added comments like, “We are on your side,” and “We will do all you say to do.”  Do you think God asks any less of us?

              Even when we understand that, we limit it, and try to make it sound better for being so:  as long as my heart is for God, nothing else matters.  You cannot compartmentalize your devotion to God.  YOU belong to God, not just your heart, not just your actions, not just your words or your time or your money—all of you, even your physical body.  “It is He who has made us and not we ourselves” Psalm 100:3.  Of course we are his possession.

              Paul reminds us of the same thing in his argument against one particular sin.   Now the body is not for fornication, but for the Lord; and the Lord for the body. Know ye not that your bodies are the members of Christ? Shall I then take the members of Christ, and make them the members of a harlot? God forbid, 1 Cor 6:13,15. 

              What we do with our bodies does matter.  Just as the two of us would be angry for anyone to use our piece of land for something sinful, God is angry when we use his possession for sins of the flesh.  Just as we want to make the best use of this land for as long as possible, God expects us to care for his possession so that it will be useful to him for as long as possible.

              Taking care of God’s possession, our bodies, involves far more than the usual abstinence from smoking, drugs, and liquor we usually associate with this concept.  Especially as we grow older, ailments happen.  Sometimes it's genetics, but sometimes it’s because we didn’t take care of ourselves the years before.  Staying healthy for as long as possible is the least we owe God, but usually the last thing we think about. 

              And after illnesses come about, do you follow your doctor’s instructions?  I am simply amazed when my doctors ask me if I take my medicine regularly, and if I can handle the discomfort they cause.  Evidently some people can’t—or won’t.  The medicine tastes bad, or the eye drops burn, or it’s too much trouble to remember.  We have turned into a nation of whiners.

              We aren’t put here to play.  We are put here for our master’s use.  “We were bought with a price,” Paul says.  Is the Lord getting his money’s worth out of you?
 
Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body. 1Cor 6:19-20
 
Dene Ward

Campgrounds have a lot of aggravating rules.  Some of them are just plain ridiculous.  Yet, I understand the problem.  Too many thoughtless people have no concept of picking up after themselves while being careful where they dump things. 

              Most state parks have a place to dump “gray water.”  We aren’t talking about raw sewage.  Gray water, as defined, includes the dishpan of water you washed your dishes in.  Ever carry a couple gallons of water 500 yards in an awkward dishpan you must hold out in front of you, trying not to slosh it all over yourself in the cold?  Nearly impossible.  And who, living in the country, doesn’t know that wash water works wonders on the blueberries and flower beds?  At least the last park we stayed at had dispensed with the gray water rule.

              I think some of these things bother me because, as country people, we are always green.  We are careful what gets dumped where, even if it means having to load it up and cart it off to the landfill ourselves; you don’t want your groundwater polluted, especially uphill from the well.  We rotate crops.  We even rotate garden spots. We use twigs to dissuade cutworms rather than plastic rings or metal nails. We mulch with the leaves from our live oaks, which we then turn under to enrich the ground after the garden is spent.  We dump the ashes from the woodstove into the fallow garden.  I am sure Keith could add even more to this list.

              God expects his people to be “green.”  Good stewardship of his gifts has always been his expectation, from our abilities to the gospel itself.  You can even find sewage disposal rules in the Law.  Cruelty to animals was punished under the Old Covenant.  That same principle of stewardship follows into the New.

              At the same time, God said, “Have dominion over [the earth] and subdue [the animals],” Gen 1:28.  He said to eat of the plants and the animals, 1:29; 9:3.  God meant this to be a place we used for our survival, not a zoological and botanical garden where nothing can be touched.  When we carefully use the resources of the earth, it will continue to furnish us with the things we need.  So we eat sustainable seafood.  We hunt in season, and eat the meat we bring home.  We raise and eat animals fed with garden refuse.  We carefully sow and reap so the ground will continue to be arable.  There is absolutely nothing wrong with any of that.

              Sometimes, though, the people who claim to be green are no longer flesh-colored (in all its assorted hues).  They care more for animals than people.  I know that is true when I see a “Save the Whales” bumper sticker on the same car touting “The Right to Choose.”  Let’s save the animals, but the babies are fair game.

              Shades of Romans 1--Paul speaks of the Gentiles who had rejected Jehovah throughout the ancient days and eventually arrived at the point that they “worshipped and served the creature rather than the Creator” 1:25.  Our culture has come dangerously close to that.  The environment has become the cause du jour, and while I certainly agree that we should care for the beautiful home God gave us and not be cruel to animals, it is because I am grateful to the God who made them for me, not because I have less regard for humans.  I have always been that way, not just recently, yet I still know that people are more important than sea turtles, and unborn children more so than polar bears.

              So let’s be green, just as God has always expected—but let’s be flesh-colored too, caring about the people, and their souls even more than the animals.  And let us also be as white as snow—an obedient people who worship and serve the God who created it all.
 
From your lofty abode you water the mountains; the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work. You cause the grass to grow for the livestock and plants for man to cultivate, that he may bring forth food from the earth.  The trees of the LORD are watered abundantly, the cedars of Lebanon that he planted. In them the birds build their nests; the stork has her home in the fir trees. The high mountains are for the wild goats; the rocks are a refuge for the rock badgers. The young lions roar for their prey, seeking their food from God. When the sun rises, they steal away and lie down in their dens. Man goes out to his work and to his labor until the evening. O LORD, how manifold are your works! In wisdom have you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures. May the glory of the LORD endure forever; may the LORD rejoice in his works, Psa 104:13,14,16-18,21-24,31.
 
Dene Ward
 

Whew!  It’s over for another year.  Some of it is in the freezer—blueberries, strawberries, tomato sauce, corn, pole beans, white acre peas, blackeyes, and limas—but quite a bit sits on the shelves of the back pantry in those clear sturdy Mason jars: two kinds of cucumber pickles, squash pickles, okra pickles, pickled banana peppers, pickled jalapenos, tomatoes, salsa, ketchup, tomato jam, strawberry jam, pepper jelly, pear preserves, muscadine juice, and muscadine jelly.

              The first time I ever canned I was scared to death.  First, the pressure canner scared me.  I had heard too many stories of blown up pots and collard greens hanging from the ceiling like the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, but once I had used it a few times without incident, and really understood how it worked, that fear left me. 

              Home canners are actually not just decades old, but centuries.  French physicist Denis Papin invented a "steam digester"—the first pressure cooker.  Born on August 22, 1647, he also suggested the piston and cylinder steam engine, which was invented later by someone else, but his designs were the impetus.  Papin's Digester, as his pressure cooker was called, raised the cooking temperature inside to 266 degrees, which cooked foods quicker without losing their nutrients.

               I may be an old hand at the pressure canner these days, but I still follow the rules.  If I don't, it will blow up.  No amount of sincerity on my part will keep that from happening if I let the pressure get too high. 

              I also follow the sterilization rules and the rules about how much pressure for how long and how much acidity is required for steam canning.  Botulism, a food poisoning caused by foods that have been improperly canned, is a particularly dangerous disease.  Symptoms include severe abdominal pain, vomiting, blurred vision, muscle weakness and eventual paralysis.  You’d better believe I carefully follow all the rules for home canning.  I give away a lot of my pickles and jams.  Not only do I not want botulism, I certainly don’t want to give it to anyone else either.

              Some folks chafe at rules.  Maybe that’s why they don’t follow God’s rules.  They want to take the Bible and pick and choose what suits them.  “Authority?” they scoff.  “Overrated and totally unnecessary.”  Authority does matter and a lot of people in the Bible found out the hard way.  Whatever you do in word or in deed, do all in the name of {by the authority of} the Lord Jesus…Col 3:17.  You might pay special attention to the context of that verse too.

              God’s people were warned over and over to follow His rules, to, in fact, be careful to follow His rules, Deut 5:1.  I counted 31 times in the Pentateuch alone.  Not following those rules resulted in death for many and captivity for others.  When Ezra and Nehemiah brought the remnant back to Jerusalem, once again they were warned, at least five times in those two short books.  Maybe suffering the consequences of doing otherwise made the need for so much repetition a little less.

              David had a way of looking at God’s rules that we need to consider.  For I have kept the ways of the Lord, and have not wickedly departed from my God.  For all his rules were before me, and from his statutes I did not turn aside, 2 Sam 22:22,23. Many of David’s psalms talk about God’s rules, but the 119th mentions them 17 times.  David calls those rules good, helpful, comforting, righteous, praiseworthy, enduring, hope-inducing, true, and life-giving.  How can anyone chafe at something so wonderful?

              People simply don’t want rules, especially with God.  God is supposed to be loving and kind and accept me as I am.  No.  God knows that the way we are will only bring death.  We must follow the rules in order to live.  We must love the rules every bit as much as David did.  I will praise you with an upright heart when I learn your righteous rules…My soul is consumed with longing for your rules at all times…When I think of your rules from of old, I take comfort, O Lord…Great is your mercy O Lord, give me life according to your rules, 119:7, 20, 52, 156.

              I get out my canning guide and faithfully follow the rules every summer.  I never just guess at it; I never say, “That’s close enough.”  I know if I don’t follow those rules someone could die, maybe me or one of my good friends or one of my precious children or grandchildren.  I bet there is something in your life with rules just as important that you follow faithfully.  Why then, are we so careless with the most important rules we have ever been given?
 
For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome, 1 John 5:3.
 
Dene Ward

On August 21, 1996 the Health Insurance Portablility and Accountability Act (HIPAA) was enacted.  In the electronic age, when information can be passed to practically anyone anywhere with no one the wiser, this law set standards on what could and could not be shared and with whom.  It was also a much broader beginning to health care reform which, for instance, ensured that individuals would be able to keep their health care between jobs.  But most of us just know it as the Privacy Act.

              I find the whole thing a bit ironic.  Here we have new privacy laws in health care that regularly cause me all sorts of hassle in papers to sign, lists to make, and even waivers to write just so a doctor can use my experimental surgeries to help others, while at the same time people lay their lives open for anyone in the world to see on the internet. 

              We bemoan identity theft while giving the thieves all the access they need to steal it, and the burglars all the information they need to know when we won’t be home.  We complain about intrusion of government and the possibility of our conversations and emails being monitored, but think nothing of leaving a detailed account of every activity, argument, and even romantic encounter for voyeurs everywhere.  I have a Facebook page so I can see pictures of my grandson, not so everyone will know what I had for breakfast this morning.  “Toast instead of cereal” is not an earth-shaking decision worthy of comment, or even “liking.”

              And while we open our lives for the world, we have a singular aversion to opening it up for the brothers and sisters and elders God gave to help us.  Christians do not have the right to privacy where their souls are concerned. 

              The elders are specifically told to watch out for the souls in their care.  They are told that they will give account for those souls if they are lost.  They cannot do their work if we insist on keeping secrets from them.

              Brothers and sisters in the Lord are commanded to encourage, exhort, rebuke, train, admonish, restore, and support.  How can they do that if we won’t ask for help when we need it? 

              I wonder how many marriages could have been saved before it was too late if the couple were not so adamant about their “right to privacy.”  I wonder how many children might not have been lost to the world if struggling parents were not loathe to ask for advice.  I wonder how many souls might have hung on if they had bared their hearts and reached out a hand for help.

              Most of us willingly give up our privacy rights in health matters to ask for prayers.  We share the smallest, goriest details of even the most mundane, routine procedures.  Where are our priorities?  A sick soul is much more serious than a sick body.  Don’t be too proud or embarrassed to ask for help when you need it.
 
For God has not destined us for wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us so that whether we are awake or asleep we might live with him. Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing. We ask you, brothers, to respect those who labor among you and are over you in the Lord and admonish you, and to esteem them very highly in love because of their work. Be at peace among yourselves. And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all. 1Th 5:9-14
 
Dene Ward

Joseph Lodge opened his first foundry in South Pittsburg, Tennessee in 1896, naming it after a friend:  The Blacklock Foundry.  In May 1910 it burned to the ground, but he opened again a few blocks south with an initial filing date as a For Profit Corporation on August 19, 1910, naming it the Lodge Manufacturing Company.  It has been going strong for over 100 years, and my own skillet came from that company.

            I grew up watching my mother use her cast iron skillet.  She fried chicken, hamburgers, eggs, country fried steak, pork chops, and hash in it.  I suppose I began with grilled cheese sandwiches, something I still love but have to limit now.  Some days, though, a crisp on the outside, gooey on the inside, hot all over, buttered pair of bread slices (usually multi-grain in a nod to health) is the only thing that will satisfy.

              When I received my own cast iron skillet as a wedding present I was confused.  My mother’s was deep black, smooth and shiny.  This thing was the same shape, the same heft, but gray, dull, and rough.  “You have to season it,” she told me, and even though I followed the directions exactly, greasing and heating it over and over and over, it was probably ten years before my skillet finally began to look like hers.  Seasoning cannot be done quickly, no matter what they say, and in the early stages can be undone with a moment’s carelessness—like scrubbing it in a sink full of hot soapy water.  A good skillet is never scrubbed, never even wet, but simply wiped out, a thin patina of oil left on the surface.             

              Faith is a little like a cast iron skillet—it has to be seasoned.  Let me explain.

              In the middle of some study a few weeks ago I made a discovery that made me laugh out loud.  “…the churches were strengthened in the faith,” we are told in Acts 16:5.  I am not a Greek scholar, but sometimes just looking at a word gives you a clue.  The word translated “strengthened” is stereoo.  “Stereo?” I thought, automatically anglicizing it, and a moment later got the point.  Faith may begin as “mono”—undoubtedly the Philippian jailor who believed and was baptized “in the same hour of the night” had a one dimensional faith.  He hadn’t had time to develop beyond the point of “I believe that Jesus is the Son of God,” but I imagine after awhile he had seasoned his faith with layer after layer of growth.  It had become a “stereo” faith.

              Think about it.  The Abraham who left Ur at the word of God, giving up far more than we usually realize in worldly goods and prominence, was not the same Abraham who offered his son over forty years later.  That first Abraham was still so timid he would willingly deceive people about the woman traveling with him.  Yet God did not give up on him, and he did not give up on God.  He grew, adding layer after layer to a faith that eventually made him the father of the faithful.

              The Peter who tried to walk on water may have shortly thereafter confessed Christ, but he wasn’t the same Peter who sat in Herod’s prison in Acts 12, and he certainly wasn’t the same Peter who ultimately lost his life for his Lord.  He used all the earlier experiences to season a faith that endured to the end.

              It isn’t that God is not satisfied with the faith we have at any given moment, but He does expect us to grow, to season that faith with years of endurance and service.  Seasoning takes heat, and the heat of affliction may be the thing that seasons us.  We never know what may be required, but God expects us to keep adding those layers, to get beyond the “mono” faith to a “stereo” faith, a multi-faceted, deeply layered condition, not just a little saying we repeat when we want to prove we are Christians.

              How does your skillet look today?  Is it still gray and rough, or have you taken the time to season it with prayer and study, enduring the heat of toil and affliction, and turned it into an indispensable tool, one you use everyday to feed and strengthen your soul?
 
For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another. My heart faints within me! Job 19:25-27
 
Dene Ward

Every dog we have ever had has loved a good belly rub, but Chloe seems to have taken it to another level.  It isn’t just that she begs for a belly rub, it’s that she thinks God put her here to have her belly scratched, and that scratching her belly may be the only reason He put us here.

              A few people seem to have the same opinion about themselves and the church.  The only reason God instituted a church is to pander to their every need.  It seldom seems to cross their minds that other people have needs as well, and that those needs may be even more critical than theirs.  Chloe wouldn’t care if the house were on fire if she saw us running outside.  She would still scamper up, plop herself on the ground and roll over—isn’t that why we came outside, to scratch her belly?  A Christian who thinks he is the center of the universe is behaving the same way.

              Others think the only reason God put them in the church was for the church to listen to them.  They never ask a question in a Bible class, or offer a comment to stimulate discussion and deep thinking.  Instead they have all the answers and are happy to tell you exactly how things ought to be done, even things that are not specifically spelled out in the scriptures.  They know best.  It amazes me when these are people new to a congregation, who don’t yet know the background and experiences of the people they are trying to advise, often including elders, or who are in their mid-twenties with little life experience behind them.  Kind of reminds me of Chloe who thinks a belly rub is appropriate any time of day, any place, even while you are trying to shoot a rattlesnake that she obviously has not seen.  But she knows best, Boss!

              Then there are the ones who think their feelings, or the feelings of a family member, are all that count.  The church is supposed to pussyfoot around and never offer exhortation or criticism that might “offend” by our definition of the word.  They think they are put here to be stroked and petted and “have their belly rubbed” regardless of what might be happening to their souls.  Reminds me of that passage about people “whose god is their belly”—nothing matters at the moment but how they feel.  I am not about to let Chloe roll over on her back in the middle of a garden row I have just planted that is supposed to help feed us this year, no matter how much it hurts her feelings for me to tell her, “No!”  Some things are more important than her feelings, and if she were my child instead of my dog, I would explain that to her rather than let her do as she pleased and cost us a few hundred dollars worth of groceries. 

              So what do you do about people like that?  You do the same thing the Lord did for you when you were still that immature and selfish.  You tolerate, you teach, you show them a better way with the example of your own service and willingness to accept abuse or take on responsibilities that are not yours but that you do because they need doing and you are there.  You love them in a way they don’t deserve and yes, you rebuke when necessary and hope they won’t act childishly and run off to play somewhere else, where everyone will scratch the belly they offer, and let them be the only ones who matter and the only ones worth listening to.

              The Lord did all that for us, and he expects us to do it for them.  Some day maybe they will learn to be better than a silly little dog who thinks the world is here to scratch her belly.  Didn’t you?
 
And we exhort you, brethren, admonish the disorderly, encourage the fainthearted, support the weak, be longsuffering toward all. 1Thes 5:14
 
Dene Ward
 

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

Casey Stengel, Hall of Fame baseball manager for the Yankees and Mets, was known for his sayings. He once said, “There are three things you can do in a baseball game. You can win, or you can lose, or it can rain.” I first heard that quote as ‘Somedays you win, somedays you lose and somedays it rains.’ First time I heard it I thought it was silly. The more I thought about it, the more profound it seemed. And it got me thinking about the Christian life.

As a Christian, sometimes we win. In the Bible, can you think of a bigger win than Acts 2? Peter is preaching the first gospel sermon, and the response is incredible:

“Now when they heard this they were cut to the heart, and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, "Brothers, what shall we do?" And Peter said to them, "Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is for you and for your children and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself." And with many other words he bore witness and continued to exhort them, saying, "Save yourselves from this crooked generation." So those who received his word were baptized, and there were added that day about three thousand souls.” (Acts 2:37-41)

Three thousand souls were saved that first day as they accepted the Gospel. 3,000! Hey preachers, have you ever had a day like that? In reading about the Restoration period, I read of evangelists holding 2-3 week gospel meetings in which 1,000 people were baptized during the course of the meeting. But that was over three weeks, and this is in just one day – and three times as much! An incredible win. Do you think Peter was feeling good that evening? And there are other big wins scattered throughout Acts. John and Peter’s sermon in Acts 3 led to thousands more being baptized in Acts 4:4. Paul had, for all practical purposes, a whole city turn out to listen to him in Acts 13:44. Somedays, we win.

But somedays, we lose. An example would be the last part of Acts 17. Paul is in the city of Athens waiting for his companions to catch up, having been rushed out of Berea ahead of a lynch mob. While waiting, he sees the rampant idolatry around him and he can’t help himself. He speaks out against this evil. The Athenian intelligentsia hear about him and decide to grant him an audience. What an opportunity! These are some of the leading thinkers of the day. What if Paul can convert a number of them? So he begins to speak in Acts 17:22 and gives what is widely considered one of the best gospel sermons ever. In the space of ten verses he brings these men from idol worshippers unaware of God to the Gospel of the resurrected Savior. An incredible sermon. And what is their response?

“Now when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some mocked. But others said, "We will hear you again about this."” (Acts 17:32)

The vulgar laughed and the polite essentially gave him a “Don’t call us, we’ll call you”. Paul had a wonderful opportunity and preached perhaps the greatest sermon ever and **pffft!**

When thinking of losses, how can we not think of Noah? Peter calls him a “preacher of righteousness” (2 Pet. 2:5) and it seems that he had roughly 100 years to preach (Gen. 6:10,13; 7:6). In 100 years of preaching, he saved precisely no one outside his family. Again, preachers, have you ever had a dry spell to compare to that? Somedays, despite our best efforts, we lose.

And somedays, it rains. Nothing goes the way we had planned. We see this in Paul’s life at least twice. First, Acts 16:6-8

“And they went through the region of Phrygia and Galatia, having been forbidden of the Holy Spirit to speak the word in Asia; and when they were come over against Mysia, they assayed to go into Bithynia; and the Spirit of Jesus suffered them not; and passing by Mysia, they came down to Troas.”

Having been very successful in what we would today call southeastern Turkey, he planned to move to southwestern Turkey but, whoops, the Holy Spirit forbade them. Ok, let’s go to north-central Turkey. Whoops, Jesus would not allow it. All his plans done in by acts of God (isn’t that an insurance phrase for weather?) Paul wound up in Troas. Where he heard what we term the Macedonian Call. And churches were planted in Philippi, Thessalonica, Berea, and Corinth specifically because Paul’s plans were ruined. He couldn’t serve God in the way he had planned, but he continued to serve as best he could in the situation he found himself. And souls were saved.

Then there’s Acts 20:2-3

“And when he had gone through those parts, and had given them much exhortation, he came into Greece. And when he had spent three months there, and a plot was laid against him by Jews as he was about to set sail for Syria, he determined to return through Macedonia.”

Paul was in a hurry to return to Jerusalem and give the poor their the alms he had been collecting from the various Gentile churches. He planned to sail from Corinth to Syria and then, likely, from Syria to Caesarea and then overland to Jerusalem. That was the fastest means of travel at that time. But his plans were ruined by something out of his control: the machinations of his enemies. So, to avoid them, he took the long way around. And had a chance to revisit the Macedonian churches, preach in Troas, and see the Ephesian elders again for what he thought would be the last time. Some of the most often referred to passages in Acts wouldn’t have been written if Paul’s plans had worked out. Somedays, it rains, but we still serve as best we can.

In our service to the Lord, somedays we will win big. There will be much rejoicing and the results of our efforts for the Lord will be obvious. Somedays, however, we will lose. Despite our best efforts we won’t accomplish what we set out to do for Him. Even in our losses, though, we can find some progress. In Acts 17 it does mention two who believed and clung to Paul, despite the ridicule of the multitude. And Noah was not completely unsuccessful, he did save his wife, three sons, and their wives, in addition to himself. If we give our all for God, He will make some use of it, even if it seems a loss to us. And somedays, it will rain. Everything we thought we would do for the Lord will get turned on its head. We’ll find ourselves in circumstances far different than we expected, doing different work than we expected. Even in those odd situations if we do the work before us, we can have a great impact for the Lord.

The examples given were all of evangelism, but this is true of all service to God. As parents raising your children for Him, somedays you will win, somedays it will seem as if you lost despite your best efforts, and somedays nothing will go as you expected. Keep pressing on. As ministers to needy brethren we will win, lose, or have it rain, but keep doing what you can. In all of the examples win, lose, or rain, God used the efforts of His workers to accomplish His will. He will do so today as well.

Regardless of the weather, keep “pressing on”.

Heb. 6:11-12 “And we desire each one of you to show the same earnestness to have the full assurance of hope until the end, so that you may not be sluggish, but IMITATORS OF THOSE WHO THROUGH FAITH AND PATIENCE inherit the promises.”
 
Lucas Ward

I had heard bad news the night before, and after a night of crying and praying, had completely passed the grief stage and was well into rage.  I furiously weeded the flower beds, flinging dirt and weeds as hard as I could.  At least it served a purpose.  In Florida, you can’t just hoe the weeds and expect them to die.  Anything green will re-root by morning in this humid climate unless you completely remove it from the garden. 

              I was black to my elbows and sweating profusely when it crossed my mind to wonder if it might just be all right to curse if I were cursing Satan.  Chloe sat next to me, tilting her head back and forth in confusion.  Finally, when the convulsive sobbing started, she tucked her tail between her legs and slunk off in the direction of the porch, with a bewildered look over her shoulder at me.

              In a moment of clarity awhile later, I realized that I had reached a milestone in my spiritual life.  Automatically, without even having to think about it, I had directed my rage at the right person.  Instead of blaming God, I had blamed the one who twists every good thing into ugliness.  For once I had never even had a question about why this particular thing had happened.  I knew why it had happened—because the enemy of God is the enemy of every one of his faithful children too.

              So why doesn’t God keep anything bad from happening to those children?  Maybe the same reason a good parent doesn’t shield his child from the result of his own mistakes.  Maybe the same reason we make them eat their vegetables and get their shots.  Causing pain is not always bad, not if you want to build healthy bodies and strong characters.  But who am I to even ask or say anything definitive about the matter?  This is all I can say:

              His faithfulness is everlasting, Psa 119:90.
              He loves justice and will not forsake his saints, Psa 37:28.
              His love is steadfast, Psa 89:2.
              There is no unrighteousness in him, Psa 92:15.
            He made all things very good, Gen 1:31, and is the only one who is good, Luke 18:19. 
              He cannot be tempted with evil, and is never the cause of temptation, James 1:13.

              Does any of that sound like the one we should blame about anything?  Most of our problems come because of the freewill God created in us, yet even that freewill is a good thing for it means we can choose to love and serve God rather than being the pawns of a pagan notion of destiny.  It means He can know that our service is willing and not forced, and that our love for Him is just as genuine as His for us.

              That means we will have to put up with things we don’t like, with things that hurt and cause us pain because a long time ago one of us chose the wrong way, and suddenly there was evil in the world.  But isn’t it wonderful that the justice of God says that, while we may have to live with the effects of that choice, we aren’t saddled with its guilt—we can make our own choices.

              Remember when bad things befall you who to blame.  Go out to your flower beds and remind yourself what the scriptures call him each time you rip out a weed and fling it with all your might--the Accuser, the Adversary, the Enemy, the Evil One, the father of lies, the Prince of demons, the Ruler of this world, that old Serpent, the Tempter.  Why in the world would we ever think Someone Else was to blame?
 
This I recall to my mind; therefore have I hope. It is of Jehovah's lovingkindnesses that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness. Jehovah is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him. Jehovah is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeks him. It is good that a man should hope and quietly wait for the salvation of Jehovah. Lam 3:21-26
 
Dene Ward

You can find a million diets out there, but there is one thing none of them can get around:  your calorie intake must be less than your calorie usage if you want to lose weight.  That doesn’t mean it is easy or that other things do not play into it.  Just ask a middle-aged woman about the difficulties of losing weight, and you will get an earful.  I can vouch for those “other things” myself, having gone through middle age and now arrived at “old age.”  It’s true—several million women could not make this up and it not be valid.  Be that as it may, you still must count those calories and burn up more than you take in.

             The very first calorie counting diet book was written by Lulu Hunt Peters, copyrighted August 14, 1918.  Diet and Health: With Key to the Calories was a best seller.  Dr. Hunt knew what it meant to be overweight and to diet.  She lost 70 lbs. on her diet plan of maintaining 1200 calories a day.  Her book was witty and entertaining.  Just a for instance, the title itself was a parody of Mary Baker Eddy's Science and Health: With Key to the Scriptures.

              Keith and I do more calorie counting these days.  Our activity level has decreased due to illness and just being too old and tired to do as much.  That means we have to be much more diligent than before when Keith was riding his bike 50-75 miles a week and I was jogging 25-30 miles a week.  Something about being in your 60s slows you down a bit.

              The other morning I was making a light version of baklava—half the calories and a third the fat of the ordinary Greek pastry.  I had phyllo dough leftover that I needed to use up and a brand new jar of raw honey. Such was my excuse that day—but at least I had found this lighter version.  After I poured the honey syrup over the baked dough, Keith came along behind me with a spoon and started scraping the pan.  In between licks he said, “This doesn’t count, right?”  Oh, if only… 

              I heard a chef say one time that he had to work out about two hours a day to burn off the estimated 6000 calories he took in just tasting the dishes he made before sending them out to his customers.  I get it.  My local brethren have so many potlucks (at least two a month for some of us), plus company meals and family meals, wedding and baby showers, that I am sure most of my extra calories come from that tasting.  No way will I send something out there that I don’t know is good.  And if I took diet food to a potluck I just might be excommunicated.

              Yes, those calories count.  And so do those little bitty sins—you know, the little white lies to keep yourself out of trouble, the little bits of gossip that you just can’t seem to keep to yourself, the pens and paper clips you “borrow” from work, that side job you did for a little extra cash that doesn’t get reported the next April.  We seem to think that because we assemble on Sunday mornings and don’t do the big bad sins—the ones in the Ten Commandments—that nothing else counts.  The fact that our language makes people think less of the body of a Sacrificed Savior never seems to cross our minds. 

              The Treasury of Scriptural Knowledge states that the Jews believed that “he who observed any principal command was equal to him who kept the whole law.”  Their example was idolatry.  If you didn’t worship an idol, you were good to go!  The little stuff didn’t matter.  All you have to do is read about Jesus’ dealings with the Pharisees in the gospels and you can see the results of that doctrine.

              First century Christians must have had the same problem.  “He who keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it,” James said in 2:10.  The context?  People who said they had faith but didn’t take care of the sick and needy, or visit the fatherless and widows, or welcome the strangers to their assemblies.  The same God who said, “Do not kill,” also said, “Do not commit adultery,” he reminds them.  All sins count in God’s eyes.

              This is not new with God.  Ezekiel said in chapter 33:12,13, “The righteousness of the righteous shall not deliver him in the day of his transgression…if he trust to his righteousness, and commit iniquity, none of his righteous deeds shall be remembered, but in his iniquity which he has committed, therein shall he die.”

              Yep, all those calories count, no matter how small the spoon or how tiny the taste.  And so do all those sins.  The only cure for the problem is to quit sampling the goods.
 
Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments, and shall teach men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven: but whosoever shall do and teach them, he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 5:19
 
Dene Ward