Flight Paths

My father was a young boy in the Depression and grew up on a small farm where they made use of everything.  He cannot stand to see something going to waste, even if he can’t at that moment find a use for it.  Before his retirement he often pulled stacks of paper out of the company trash bins, that old, wide, green and white striped computer paper with the holes in the sides.  He pulled out card stock that had been run through a printer of some sort leaving thin black lines on one side only.  Then he brought them all to me. 
 
           We were usually with a small church all those years ago, with a limited budget, and our own was even more limited.  What did I do with all that paper and cardstock?  The computer paper graced the walls of many a Bible class.  You want to know how tall Goliath was?  Unroll a ten foot long length of it, tear it off along the perforations and then measure out Goliath’s six cubits and a span on it and tack it to the wall.  In a high ceiling-ed room it was easy, but in others Goliath had to bend over, with the paper running up the wall then along the ceiling.  Suddenly you really understood what a “giant” was.  It wasn’t just the height.  It was how massive his body must have been to support that height.

            You want to know how tall Saul was?  The scriptures say he was “from his shoulders upward” taller than any of the men of Israel.  So we asked tallest man in the church to come in and stand by our computer paper.  We marked his height, then went up as much more as his head and shoulders.  Saul was no Lilliputian himself.  Those lengths of paper also made great time lines.  Other times they were “missionary journeys,” an attendance chart for each student, each one measured out according to scale and then “journeyed” with a felt pen to the next stop each time a student came to class.  If he didn’t make it back to Antioch or Jerusalem by the time we finished the lesson book it was a sure sign he had missed too many classes!

            And the card stock?  I must have cut out thousands of flash cards for memory verses, apostles, judges, and prophets, anything that could be represented with a line drawing and a stick man, as well as the question cards for board games I made and Bible Jeopardy boards I constructed.  The trash that no one else wanted found a spiritual use that helped hundreds of children learn about God and His word.

            God has a habit of taking things that no one else wants and making use of them too.  For behold your calling brethren, that not many wise after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble are called…1 Cor 1:26.  Jesus did not go to the “in crowd;” he did not go to the rich and powerful.  In fact, most of the time those people became his followers it was because they came seeking Him, not the other way around.  No, Jesus went to the poor, the disenfranchised, and those whose lives were filled with problems that filled others with disgust.  Fishermen may not have been the dregs of society, but they were the working class poor.  Matthew the publican was despised.  Simon the Zealot was a fanatic from whom others might have shied away.  Zacchaeus, though wealthy, was another despised tax collector.  Mary Magdalene had had seven demons.  He healed ten lepers and the only one of that shunned group that even came back to thank him was a Samaritan, the lowest of the low.

            Why did these people flock to Him so?  Because He gave them hope.  He gave them purpose.  He made something of them when everyone else had given up on them.  And He will do the same for you and for me.  It matters not how far you have fallen, nor how little anyone else values you.  God valued you enough to give His son for you.  He can pull you out of the world’s trash can and make you a vessel of honor, sanctified, meet for the Master’s use, 2 Tim 2:21.  If you think otherwise then you don’t really believe in the Almighty God.
 
Thus says the Lord, Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches, but let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the Lord who practices steadfast love, justice and righteousness in the earth.  For in these things I delight, declares the Lord, Jer 9:23,24.
 
Dene Ward

My two grandsons love to go to the park.  They love to swing and slide.  I’m not sure they have discovered the joys of my own childhood favorite—the seesaw.  Back then I was always looking for someone else to sit on the other end, and seldom found the perfect playmate.  She was always either too heavy or too light to balance it out, and one of us always hit the ground with a bang.
 
           Over the years I have come to see that God requires His own kind of balance.  Nearly every major fault of His people has come with that old pendulum swing—from one extreme to the other.  From undisciplined emotionalism to empty ritualism, from faith only to works salvation—we struggle all the time to get the balance just right.  “Obedience from the heart,” Paul calls it in Rom 6:17.  And it has been so for thousands of years.

            In our Psalms class, we came upon another passage recently that emphasized yet again the problem of balance.  Over and over and over you read things like this:

            …you have tested me and you will find nothing; I have purposed that my mouth will not transgress, 17:4

            I have kept the ways of the Lord and have not wickedly departed from God, 18:21.
 
           Vindicate me, O LORD, for I have walked in my integrity, and I have trusted in the LORD without wavering, 26:1.

            It always bothered me a little when I saw passages like this, especially the ones written by David, as these three are.  Isn’t he being a little arrogant?  Especially him?

            But, as with all the Bible, you have to put things together to find the balance point.  Psalm 130, one of the Psalms of Ascents, certainly shows the opposite feeling:  If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand? v 3.  After that, another quickly came to mind:  Enter not for judgment with your servant; for in your sight no man living is righteous, 143:2.

            The psalmists all seemed to understand the balance.  No one deserves salvation, but yes, we can be righteous in God’s eyes when we do our best to serve Him, when obedience is offered willingly, when adoration, reverence, and gratitude are the motivations behind every thought and action, when we don’t just do some right things, we become righteous.  The author of Psalms 130 goes on to say, “But there is forgiveness with you…” and “with Jehovah there is lovingkindness and…plenteous redemption.”          

            These men saw that salvation was a matter of a relationship with God, not ritualistic obedience nor self-serving obsequiousness, both of which are more about “me” than the God I claim to worship.  They proclaimed the balance that would fall before the Lord in reverence and service and yet stand before a Father singing praise and thanksgiving. 

            And I love that they did not feel required to offer qualifications to what they said.  “I am righteous,” they said, not bothering to add, “but I know I have sinned in the past, and may sin in the future.”  They never let the false beliefs of others compel them to soften a strong statement of faith in their Lord to do what He says He will—be merciful.  Why are we always dampening the assurance of our hope by pandering to the false teaching of others?  Let’s strive for perfect balance with this long ago anonymous brother:  With Jehovah there is plenteous redemption, and he shall redeem us!
 
Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, Whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man unto whom Jehovah does not impute iniquity, And in whose spirit there is no guile, Ps 32:1-2.
These things have I written…that you may know you have eternal life, 1 John 5:13
 
Dene Ward

I am not a gun nut.  I don’t know a whole lot about shooting.  But I do know some things that should be obvious, yet apparently are not.  When you shoot a gun, the bullet has to come down somewhere.
 
           We live in the country.  That means we do not have to worry about the laws against discharging a weapon in the city limits.  Since we have a lot more poisonous snakes, rabid coons, and bobcats ravaging the chicken coops than they do in town, that is a good thing.  Still, we must be careful.

            One reason many people use shotguns out in the country is that the load will scatter and not do much harm after a few feet.  If you shoot a rifle, you must constantly be careful of what is behind your target and the pitch of your gun barrel.  It must be pointing down so that if you miss your target, the spent bullet will hit the ground harmlessly not too far beyond.  If you miss what you are aiming at, the bullet keeps going until it either runs out of energy or hits something else.  And yes, even those supposedly harmless shots they fire in the air in all the old Westerns do eventually come down, and can still kill someone.  Evidently people who are not gun nuts, and certainly not physicists, write all those scripts because they regularly show their ignorance in these matters. 

            Words are like that.  Too many times we become angry, carelessly “shooting from the lip” or firing a few verbal bullets into the air, unaware of how those words may hurt those who may be within earshot.  Even words meant only for ourselves can cause damage to others when spoken aloud—there is always the chance that someone else will hear.  If a target needs a well-chosen word, chances are something spoken in haste was not well chosen anyway.  I need to keep it to myself until I am certain my aim is correct, the background is clear, and no one else is in danger.

            Just like a bullet, a word can come to rest in the heart of an innocent bystander.  Be sure you don’t make a tragic mistake.
           
I tell you on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you shall be justified, and by your words you shall be condemned, Matt 12:36,37.
 
Dene Ward

Remind them to be submissive to rulers and authorities, to be obedient, to be ready for every good work, to speak evil of no one, to avoid quarreling, to be gentle, and to show perfect courtesy toward all people, Titus 3:1-2.
 
           You would think a Christian wouldn’t need such reminders, but look at the things above.  Aren’t these the most difficult things for us to do?  To submit to someone else’s decisions, especially if we seriously disagree with them; to obey even when you had rather not; to be eager to serve others; to stop arguing and just accept; to be kind, even to those who do not deserve it; and to be courteous, even when people are not courteous to us—none of these things comes without effort.  In fact, they usually don’t come at all, and when their opposite surfaces, we are full of excuses.  He did it first; he needs to see what it feels like; if he can do it, so can I.  No you can’t.  Not and stay faithful to the Lord.

            Did you notice that most of these things are simply a matter of submitting one’s will to another?  And God always says that the reason for this is “the Lord’s sake” not the sake of the person you are submitting to, and that’s why we fail so often.  We look at the wrong person and when we see that person doesn’t deserve such submission, we find excuses.  You see it every day on the pages of facebook—rants about the government in words that are hardly “submissive.”  Even if you do obey, the submission is not there.  Let me ask you husbands, would you call a wife who rants at you in the same words you do at the President and congress “submissive?”  Parents, would you accept the attitude of a child who, while he ultimately obeyed, rolled his eyes and made sarcastic remarks while he did so?

            And so we have to be reminded to behave ourselves, every bit as much as a child needs that reminder, and because, like a child, we are “slaves to our passion” (v 3), especially our passion for self.  We submit our desires, our opinions, and that pesky thing called “self” because when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life, v 4-7.  We do not deserve our salvation any more than those people deserve our submission, service, and courtesy.  Are you going to give it up just to prove a point?

            No, we do not have to be reminded to do the easy things, so obviously these are difficult.  We need the reminder.  We need sometimes a reminder as sharp as a slap in the face.  Read the prophets.  They were good at that.  And the New Testament writers were not far behind.  I’ve been told that sometimes I’m not either.
 
But on some points I have written to you very boldly by way of reminder…Rom 15:15. 

Dene Ward

Keith recently received a veteran’s pass to a Tampa Bay Rays game in St Petersburg.  (By the way, there may be a Green Bay, but there is no such town as Tampa Bay.  Tampa Bay signifies an area on the central west coast of Florida, usually including Tampa, St Petersburg and Clearwater and their suburbs.) 
 
         But the game was at the end of the season after the Rays’ play-off hopes were gone.  At first you would think it wouldn’t be much of a game, but you would be wrong.  Young players who had been called up from farm teams for the expanded September rosters were playing for a place on the major league team next season.  Older players were playing to show their worth, either for a contract renewal or for another team to show some interest in a trade.  Established players were playing for personal records—a better ERA, consecutive years with a certain number of home runs and RBIs.  I knew it would still be a game worth watching.  No one would be “phoning it in.”

          But imagine there was nothing left to play for.  Imagine they were just playing out the season because it was a contract requirement.  How many home runs would you expect?  How many wins?  And how many fans would bother to show up at all?

          Some of us play at the game of life like that.  We look at our meager accomplishments, at the few years we have left, and decide there is nothing worth living for, nothing worth working for, nothing to look forward to but day after day of waking up to uselessness until one morning you don’t wake up at all.  And as far as heaven goes?  We seem to hope we have enough warning before death to shoot off a last prayer for forgiveness because surely that’s the only “hope” we have.

          Too many of us have bought into the world’s idea of hope—something insecure, uncertain, and probably not going to happen at all. Go out tomorrow and plant a seed.  Now read 1 Cor 9:10:  the plowman plows in hope.  What do you think is going to happen to that seed you planted?  You “hope” it will grow.  If a farmer hoped the way most of us hope, he would never plant in the first place.  “Hope” in the Bible means something is going to happen, and you are simply waiting for it, waiting like someone standing at an established bus stop at the established time, not someone who just guessed what route the bus takes and which corner it might stop at and when, and “hoping” you guessed correctly.

          By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance…for he was looking forward to the city that has foundations who builder and designer is God…these all died not having received the promises but having seen and greeted them from afar, Heb 11:8,10,13.  Could wealthy Abraham have given up a comfortable home to live in tents the last half of his life, could he have stood on that mountain ready to sacrifice his son if he had just crossed his fingers and “hoped” he had a future beyond this life?  No, he had Biblical hope.  He knew he had a reward waiting.

          And so do you—something even better than moving up from Double A, or even Triple A, to a permanent place on the roster of a major league team, and something a whole lot more certain—even if your batting average isn’t quite as high as the next guy’s, even if all they can count on you for is a sac-fly every so often instead of a grand slam.  You still have something to play for, a place “prepared from the foundation of the world,” one that will be there no matter who wins the pennant.
 
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, Heb 6:11-12.

Dene Ward

That’s what my doctor asked a couple of weeks after one of my eye surgeries.  He is a very proper Englishman and has an odd way of phrasing things at times, at least to my American ears, but that one still caught me off-guard.
 
           “May I prod you?”

           “With what?” I blurted out, nonplussed.  Since I am a country girl I suppose all I could think of were cattle prods.

            As it turns out, the scleral flap he had placed inside my eye to control the drainage through the shunt was not situated exactly right.  He needed to move it, and the only way to do so was to “prod” my eyeball. 

           He took two six inch long cotton swabs, eased them into my eye socket over the top of my eyeball and, while watching the progress through a lighted scope, proceeded to mash down on that eye for all he was worth.  At least that’s what it felt like, but perhaps that was because that eye still had a fresh incision.  As you can imagine, I sat as still as I could.  Doctors always tell you not to put Q-tips in your ears.  I wonder what my other doctors would have thought about two big ones sticking out of my left eye socket.  A friend was with me and witnessed this a little uncomfortably.  “Almost lost my lunch,” I think was what she said, “but the young resident watching the procedure looked grayer than I felt.”

            Eventually the internal flap moved a millimeter or so and he was pleased.  “Sorry,” he said.  “I know that was uncomfortable.”  Indeed, I thought, somewhat “Britishly.”  After all these years he is wearing off on me.

            We are prodded often in our lives, and like me at that moment, it is always our choice whether or not to allow it.  Too many times we make the wrong choices.  “He made me mad,” is inaccurate.  What happened is, I let him make me mad.  I allow the words and actions of others to create wrong reactions in me.  I allow the pressures of society to push me into bad decisions.  I allow temptation to overcome me, instead of me overcoming it.  And in every case it is no one’s fault but my own, because the choice was mine.

            How do I know?  Because when there comes a time of good prodding, good provocation--let us consider one another to provoke unto love and good works, Heb 10:24—then I ignore it when it is not what I want to do.  If one is my choosing, then so is the other.

            Satan prods us all the time.  Sometimes he uses circumstances; sometimes he uses people; sometimes he uses ideologies.  It is always up to us to recognize the true source of those things and choose to ignore it.  Instead we must find those who urge us toward the good, encouraging proper attitudes and actions through example or teaching.

            Just like those cotton swabs pushing on the outside of my eyeball affected what was happening on the inside, provocation works on the heart and the attitudes.  In the final analysis it is up to us to make the right decisions.  Just who is asking, “May I prod you?”  Is it the Lord, or is it Satan?  To which one will I listen?  What will I choose to do?
 
[Love] does not behave itself unseemly, seeks not its own, is not provoked, takes no account of evil, 1 Cor 13:5.
 
Dene Ward

“Remember not the sins of my youth” -- These are words from a currently popular song, in turn taken from David’s words in Psa 25:7.

Now why should we, or David either, be worried about sins of long ago –long, long ago for some of us?  We and he repented, we/he confessed, we/he prayed.  We were forgiven—long ago.

But, I confess that the temptations that BESET me are those same sins that started in my youth.  Perhaps in that time of hubris, Satan finds our weakest character trait and attacks and lodges arrows whose tips bedevil us with the pain of sin all our lives.

To illustrate: The popular kids in high school cussed and so did I.  (Shame on me).  I kept that world separate from home and Mom never knew—provable by the fact that the only scars on my hide are bullet holes and various self-inflicted accidental wounds.  I got to college and waxed worse, still leading singing and making talks.  Then I obtained a master’s degree in bad language in the USMC.  I went to Florida College 3 years, preached full time for 10 and part time for years, and have been a deacon for decades.  I cleaned it up.  But when frustration builds up, I still fight the battle over, when multiple things go wrong in a short time and I am tired and, and, and….the words are at the tip of my tongue, in the edge of my mind.  Shame on me.

I wish I could say that is the only sin that began in my youth, battles I still fight too often.  I suspect David was warning young people—don’t start.  It never stops.  The appetites that you do not learn to control now will haunt you all your lives.

For that same reason, Paul warns a middle-aged Timothy, “Flee youthful lusts.”  Old people are bothered by the same temptations that plague young ones.  Problems may vary from vulgar language to pornography to covetous materialism to sexual fantasies to lying to envy, or a host of others, but the principle remains that it is easier to never begin than to stop, easier to stop when you are young than later.  Now is the time.

So, with David and Paul, I would also warn:  Learn now to control yourself.  Every indulgence will weaken you and haunt you all your life.  Not because it is unforgiven but because it never goes away.  Like an addiction, sin/Satan never leaves you alone.  You can control it, but you are never over it.
 
So you too consider yourselves dead to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its desires, and do not present your members to sin as instruments to be used for unrighteousness, but present yourselves to God as those who are alive from the dead and your members to God as instruments to be used for righteousness. For sin will have no mastery over you, because you are not under law but under grace.  (Rom 6:11-14, NET)
 
Keith Ward

Unfortunately, I have a sweet tooth.  I have never understood rail thin women who complain about a dessert being, “too sweet,” “too rich,” and certainly not, “too big.”  That probably explains why I am not rail thin.
  
          I had a good excuse for making desserts with two active boys in the house.  Their favorites were plain, as desserts go—blueberry pie, apple pie, Mississippi mud cake, and any kind of cheesecake.  Nowadays, since there are only two of us and we two do not need a whole lot of sweets, desserts are usually for special occasions, and so they have gotten a little more “special” too.  Coconut cake with lime curd filling and coconut cream cheese frosting; chocolate fudge torte with chocolate ganache filling, dark chocolate frosting, and peanut butter ganache trim, garnished with dry roasted peanuts; lemon sour cream cake with lemon filling and lemon cream cheese frosting; and a peanut butter cup cheesecake piled with chopped peanut butter cups and drizzled with hot fudge sauce; all these have found their way into my repertoire and my heart. 

            But one thing I have never done is feed my family on dessert alone.  Dessert is for later, after you eat your vegetables, after the whole grain, high fiber, high protein meals, after you’ve taken your vitamins and minerals.  Everyone knows that, except perhaps children, and I would have been a bad mother had I given in to their desires instead of doing what was best for them. 

            So why do we expect God to feed us nothing but dessert?  Why do we think life must always be easy, fun, and exciting?  Why is it that the only time I say, “God is good,” is when I get what I want?

            God is good even when He makes me eat my vegetables, when I have to choke down the liver, and guzzle the V8.  God is good when I undergo trials and misfortunes. God is good even when the devil tempts me sorely.  He knows what is best for me, what will make me strong and able to endure, and, ultimately, He knows that living a physical life on this physical earth forever is not in my best interests.

            Eating nothing but cake and pie and pastries will create a paradox—an obese person who is starving to death, unable to grow and become strong.  God knows what we need and gives it to us freely and on a daily basis.  He doesn’t fill us up with empty spiritual calories.  He doesn’t give us just dessert.  Truly, God is good.
 
Rejoice the soul of your servant, for unto you O Lord, do I lift up my soul.  For you Lord are good, and ready to forgive and abundant in lovingkindness unto all them who call upon you.  There is none like you among the gods, O Lord, neither any works like your works.  All nations whom you have made shall come and worship before you, O Lord, and they shall glorify your name.  For you are great and do wondrous things.  You are God alone, Psa 86:4,5,8-10.
 
Dene Ward

A long time ago we moved to a small farming community where Keith preached full time.  Most of the church members lived out from the town in white two story Midwestern farmhouses in the middle of acres and acres of corn and soybean fields, so they didn’t know many of the townsfolk either.  Because we had few prospects given to us, Keith spent a lot of time knocking on doors. 
 
           We saw in the weekly newspaper a notice about a Bible study being held in a home in the middle of town on Thursday mornings.  The item said all were welcome, so being at loose ends yet again one Thursday, Keith and I drove the few blocks to the dark brown frame house and knocked on the door.  We were welcomed warmly, though looks were exchanged among the room full of women.  Keith was the only man there.

            In the middle of the tiny living room sat a white-haired woman in her 70s, slim and well-kept in her blue flowered shirtwaist dress.  Her manner left no doubt that she considered herself the Bible authority in the class and her word was not to be questioned. 

She started the class, which it seemed had reached the third chapter of Exodus—the burning bush.  She proceeded to tell us that the Holy Spirit had visited her the night before and told her that Moses had not known who he really was that day in the desert, and that the reason for this visit from God was to tell him, then persuade him to return to help the Israelites, who were after all his own people.

            After a few minutes of this, I raised my hand and said that was odd since the Holy Spirit tells us in the book of Hebrews that Moses knew exactly who he was from his early years, his mother having been his nurse after all.  Then I read aloud Heb 11:23-27. 

An embarrassed silence followed.  I was only 21.  I still thought that people who were honestly seeking the Lord would change the minute they heard the truth read from God’s word.  Instead we were told that she had no idea why the Spirit told her these things, but since he did they were obviously the real truth and I was wrong.  Then the class continued for another hour.  As we left we were politely told that troublemakers were not welcome and it would be best if we did not return.

It did not take long before I found others who would not listen to the plain truth of God’s word.  I even discovered that good-hearted Christians will not always see the truth as easily as I had thought.  And then one day not more than ten years ago I was slapped in the face with the realization that I had read a passage for years and completely missed a vital truth in it.  When someone rubbed my nose in it I was appalled at how I could ever have missed it.

So what has this taught me?  It has not taught me that as long as you are a good-hearted person you can believe a lie and still be perfectly fine with God.  Jesus said of the Pharisees, you compass sea and land to make one proselyte and when he has become so, you make him twofold more a son of hell than yourselves, Matt 23:15.

But it has taught me not to be so judgmental of others.  Things can be difficult to see, not because we have hard hearts but because we have always looked at it one way and never even thought there might be another way.  They can be hard to understand because we have put all the emphasis on one phrase and totally overlooked another. 

And it has certainly taught me to listen to others, to weigh their words carefully, not simply dismiss them with a sneer or a tone of outrage.  I may say I don’t believe I am always right, but when I refuse to even consider what others have to say, I am putting the lie to my words.

Now back to the lady who listened to whoever it was she thought she saw the night before.  God cannot lie, the scriptures tell us.  He will not contradict himself.  If this woman had the knowledge of the scriptures she claimed, she would not have made such an obvious mistake.  She needed to have heeded the warning of Paul in Galatians 1:8, Though we or an angel from heaven preach to you any other gospel than that which we have preached, let him be accursed.  The Holy Spirit would never change the word of God.
Jude tells us in verse 3 that the word was once for all delivered to the saints. 
Can you imagine how discouraging it would be to think that God might be changing things around night after night and no one ever told you about it?

He isn’t, and he won’t.  Our job is to make certain we know it well, to check out those who teach it, and to never allow preconceived notions to keep us from seeing the obvious in it.
 
Every word of God is tried; he is a shield unto those who take refuge in him.  Add not to his words, lest he reprove you and you be found a liar, Prov 30:5,6.
 
Dene Ward

We were hiking a mountain trail, sometimes straight up, sometimes straight down.  A babbling brook ran to our left at the bottom of a fifty foot ravine, making miniature waterfalls over rocks and roots long before we reached the larger and taller falls, weeping into a pool and running on down the hill.  As we made our way over another rise and around a bend, the leaf-strewn trail suddenly dipped and we found ourselves in a cypress swamp.  What?
 
           Oh yes, I remembered, we were not in the mountains after all; we were in Florida.  Yet it would have been easy to have fooled a person who had slept through the trip over rivers with names like Suwannee and Ocklockonee, traveling deep into the piney woods of the Big Bend, down to the swamplands.  If they had wakened in the campground on the ridge overlooking the river valley below, and walked the first mile of the path, they would have thought they were on the Appalachian Trail somewhere.

            But the sight of those huge cypresses, the bottoms of their trunks billowing like the folds of a skirt in the water, their knees standing two and three feet high around them, would have given pause.  Suddenly they would realize the shrubbery beneath the trees in the woods wasn’t rhododendron and mountain aster, but palmetto and needle palms.  The ground wasn’t hardwood leaf mold over rock, but pine straw matting over red or yellow clay and sand.  This is Florida—perhaps different from most other places in the state, but Florida nevertheless. 

            Where are you spiritually?  Are you where you think you are?  Or did you sleep through the first half of your life, and when your spirituality awakened, look around and at first glance think, “Yes, this is the right place,” when it was only a close facsimile?  Did you find yourself among people who seemed to be doing the right thing and so fail to take a really close look at your surroundings? 

            Why are you where you are?  Is it just because this is where Mom and Dad put you, or because you checked the map and stayed awake for the trip, knowing why you made which turns, and not only how to tell others to get here, but why they should be here with you?

            If you are in the mountains of Appalachia, you will need to look out for a few rattlesnakes and copperheads, but those are shy reptiles that will usually run if given the opportunity.  In a Florida swamp you will also need to watch out for cottonmouths and alligators.  Cottonmouths are notoriously aggressive—they will charge from cover, and then chase you.  And alligators move faster than anything that ungainly has a right to.  If you are wary of the wrong dangers, you are much more likely to be taken unawares. 

            God expects you to know where you are spiritually and why you are there.  He doesn’t want people who are where they are simply out of convenience and family tradition.  Where is the service in that? 

            He expects you to look out for the dangers that might surround you.  How can you be alert if the dangers you expect are not the ones in that area?

            And how will you ever find God if you are not where you thought you were?
 
From there you will seek the Lord your God and you will find Him if you search after Him with all your heart and with all your soul, Deut 4:29.
 
Dene Ward