Flight Paths

This is Part 2 of the new Monday series, "Whoso Findeth A Wife."

Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing…Prov 18:22.

Does one become a good thing by simply saying, “I do?” In other words is every wife a good thing?  There might be a point to this we overlook.  Because we know the answer is “no,” we add a few words to the scripture.  “Whoso findeth a wife might have found a good thing.”  But that is not what it says!  A wife is something a man has to look for whereas women who want to marry are a dime a dozen.  We are also told that the worthy woman (wife) is hard to find (Prov 31:10).  Perhaps the point is that not every married woman deserves to be called a wife.

There was an era when society cast a blind eye on a man who had both a wife and a mistress.  Yet even then, most decent women would have been insulted to be asked to be a mistress instead of a wife. It was an honor to be a man’s wife, and one recognized the responsibilities it laid upon her in behavior and management of the home.  You’ve seen those old movies just like I have.  “You don’t think I’m good enough to marry!” the courtesan screams at the two-timing husband.  “Good enough to be a wife,” shows that the position was held in honor, even if not every man treated it that way. 

And nowadays?  It has become more important to assert and indulge self.  A woman may keep her own name, or add his as an appendage to it.  She may have a career, which he must realize takes precedence over the home they planned to make together, and which may even take precedence over his career.  She may farm out their children to someone else to raise, very often a stranger whose values may or may not reflect theirs.  And in many cases, she may not even marry him.  Why bother when society doesn’t even seem to care any more either?  Once again we see that attitude:  “What’s the big deal with being a wife?”

Management of the home has taken a bad rap.  When my husband tells people, “I have no idea what’s what.  She takes care of everything,” I don’t find it a bit demeaning.  Isn’t that what women say they want these days, some recognition and appreciation for the skills they use every day?  My husband comes to me when he runs out of toothpaste, when he can’t find his favorite jeans, and when he needs the receipt for the shoes whose sole separated after just a month’s wear.  I am the one who keeps supplies stocked, sorts and files the sales slips, and knows that he wore a hole in the seat of those jeans far too large to patch with anything but a quilt.  I am the one who knows which bill is due when, and whether we can afford that new chainsaw he thinks he needs.  That’s exactly what the word means in 1 Tim 5:14, the younger widow is to remarry and manage the home--oikodespoteo--to manage as a steward under a head.  It carries a lot of responsibility.  It is required in stewards that they be found faithful, 1 Cor 4:2.

But that isn’t the half of it.  What makes this wife a good thing is that he can trust her.  She does him good and not evil all the days of her life, Prov 31:12.  The modern woman is too worried about doing for herself to do for him.  I have heard far too many of them whine about needing “me time,” even Christians.  Jesus said to save your life you need to lose it in service to others.  We will never find “me time” if that’s all we ever look for.  To save your life, you must lose it.

Doing him good all the days of your life means whether he deserves it or not, whether he can do for you or not.  I watched my mother care for my father for twelve years before he died, day and night, sacrificing her own health and well-being, even though those final three or four years he had no idea who she was.  She remembered the vows she made, not just to him, but before God as well, sixty-four years before.  If anyone deserved to be called a wife, she did.

It is one thing to say, “I am this man’s wife.”  It is another to be his wife.  We should count it an honor to be our man’s wife.  Griping about the man or the job is not the way it’s done.

A worthy woman who can find? ...The heart of her husband trusts in her, And he shall have no lack of gain. She does him good and not evil all the days of her life… She opens her mouth with wisdom; And the law of kindness is on her tongue. She looks well to the ways of her household, And eats not the bread of idleness, Prov 31:  10-12, 26,27.

Dene Ward

I married a firebug and raised two more.  All the camping we have done, I am sure, was just an excuse to build and sit around campfires, and since we moved to the country we have had a fire pit from the beginning.  Once the weather began to turn, we kept the hot dog and marshmallow industries in business almost single-handedly, sometimes with all the trimmings—chili, beans, slaw—other times with just a bag of chips on the side.  After the boys went away to college, any weekend they came home, they expected a hot dog roast at least once.  From October to April my grocery list always included those all-American sausages, “Nathan’s” hot dogs, of course.

Now that the boys are gone, Keith still likes to build a fire on cool nights.  Our partially wooded property always produces enough deadfall to keep the fires going, and even here in Florida, the weather is cool enough to make a fire pleasant, rotating yourself like a rotisserie, warming each side in turn. 

Keith will often throw a carefully collected and dried pile of Spanish moss on the flame.  At first the fire appears smothered, but the heat gradually burns through, producing thick billows of gray smoke that seem almost tactile, finally burning clear and shooting sparks and cinders up toward the sky.  We lean our heads on the lawn chair backs to see which will travel highest and glow longest before burning out in the cold blackness above the treetops.

Do you realize that is all an atheist believes life is? We are cinders in a bonfire.  Some of us simply dissolve in the fire.  Others rise on the updraft, some burning higher, larger, and longer than others, but burning out nonetheless, just like everyone else.  How can they survive believing this is all there is to it?  Some use that as an excuse to do whatever they want, regardless of who it hurts and the harm it causes.  Even then, as they grow older and realize the brevity of life, the pointlessness of it all takes its toll.  When a wicked man dies, his hope perishes; all he expected from his power comes to nothing, Prov 11:7.

But children of God know better. We are not just nameless cinders in the updraft of a brief blaze.  We have not only an eternal existence to look forward to, but a purpose here as well.  Very few of us will rise high enough and burn long enough for many to notice and fewer to remember, but we can all give warmth and light in a cold, dark world.  Maybe working so hard that we dissolve in the flame without ever rising above it is the better end.  How much warmth and light did you ever get out of a single spark anyway?

What are your plans for today?  Are you so busy you get tired just thinking about it?  And at what?  Is it something that will warm someone’s heart and light their way?  Even things that don’t seem likely can be made into an opportunity to do good.  If they cannot, maybe we should think twice about doing them.  We are all sparks in the fire, or else we are just trying to put it out.

You are the light of the world.  A city set on a hill cannot be hid.  Neither do men light a lamp and put it under a bushel, but on the stand, and it shines unto all who are in the house.  Even so let your light shine before men that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven, Matt 5:14-16.

Dene Ward

A few weeks ago I told you the story of a camping trip when I forgot our Sunday clothes, and the chilly reception we received in that church on Sunday morning.  Occasionally I receive a little feedback, and I was happy that no one sent the question, “What church was that?”  In fact, in all these years, whenever I have told the story no one has asked.  Good for you.

First, that church probably no longer exists.  Oh, I happen to know that a church still meets in that building.  But it is not the same group of people.  Some have died and gone on.  Some have moved out; some have moved in.  But I imagine that all the ones who are still there have grown into better people.  Twenty years can make a difference in anyone’s life.

And the problem of the group that did exist then was not that they made a mistake in their judgment about why we were there.  It did not matter why we were there.  Someone should have greeted us warmly and welcomed us into the building whether we were poor people down on our luck, so to speak, or Christians who accidentally left their Sunday clothes hanging in the garment bag on a doorknob somewhere in the house.  If someone had greeted us, but only because they recognized us from a meeting sometime in the past, that would have been wrong too. 

But as to asking, “Where was that?” the right question is the one the apostles asked when Jesus told them one of them would betray him.  As much as they failed to comprehend the kingdom, despite his teaching and their knowledge of Old Testament prophecy, as much as they still fought among themselves about who would be the greatest even that very night, they did not start glancing around the table and whispering among themselves things like, “I bet it’s Levi.  I told Jesus you could never trust a tax collector.”

No.  Matthew tells us, And they were exceeding sorrowful and began to say to him every one, Is it I, Lord? 26:22. Mark tells us they asked him one by one, 14:19. 

So when I hear a particularly pointed sermon, I shouldn’t look around to make sure brother Whozit is there to hear it because he really needs it.  I shouldn’t look across the aisle at sister What’s-her-name with a “So there!” expression on my face. 

What is it we say about approved apostolic example?  We use it to nail all sorts of false doctrines, but how about nailing ourselves? 

“Is it I, Lord?”

Judge not that you be not judged. For with what judgment you judge you shall be judged, and with what measured you mete, it shall be measured unto you.  And why do you behold the mote that is in your brother’s eye, but consider not the beam that is in your own eye?  Or how will you say to your brother, “Let me cast the mote out of your eye,” while the beam is in your own eye?  You hypocrite!  First cast the beam out of your own eye and then you may see clearly to cast the mote our of your brother’s eye, Matthew 7:1-5.  

Dene Ward

Today’s post is by guest writer Keith Ward

            
We often speak of the joy that we share because we are in the Lord. We
have hope, our lives have purpose and meaning, we know we are loved, etc. But, as wonderful and necessary as that view is, it is essentially selfish—what do I get out of it?  Do we ever stop to wonder what Jesus gets out of it?

In the night in which he was betrayed, Jesus spoke extensively to the
eleven apostles and stated the purpose of his discourse, “These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy may be in you, and [that] your joy may be made full” (John 15:11). Their joy was made full when they met the resurrected Lord, when they inaugurated the kingdom of promise and prophecy, when they openly defied the leaders who had crucified Jesus. How did Jesus have joy in them? 

We must also wonder if we as offspring of the apostles are also to be a
source of joy to Jesus, and if so, how?  “Looking unto Jesus the author and
perfecter of [our] faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising shame, and hath sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb 12:2).  The joy before him cannot have been his return to heaven since he had been with the Father since before time. He left that and suffered the cross for some other joy so great that he considered that double sacrifice worth it. We, the saved, are that joy.

When one keeps his commandments, he abides in Jesus’ love; if he abides
in Jesus, he bears much fruit. Bearing fruit glorifies the Father. Thus do we
bring joy to Jesus. This joy was the focus that led him to the cross.
Remembering Jesus’ words in John 15, John matured to the same attitude, “No greater joy have I than this, to hear of my children walking in truth”
(3 Jn 4). 

We need to measure our progress toward spiritual maturity by the things
we take joy in. Yes, it is nice that our team won, great that our kids are honor
roll students, special that we lost some weight, but are we bringing joy to
Jesus?  That happens only if we keep his commandments. Truth is not unknowable nor exists in shades; it is clear and doable. We can know whether we are in the truth if we are bearing fruit. This is measured by the lives we touch, by the changes in the life we live (Gal 5:22-24).  Finally, we reach for
an even higher level, to find our joy in the fruit-bearing obedience of others.
The greatest joy is not our achievements but the godly walk of others stimulated by our service to Jesus.
 
Keith Ward

At the end of the garden season, I dry out my hot chili peppers and make chili powder.  I have found a good formula, one part chili pepper, two parts ground cumin, one part dried oregano, and two parts garlic powder.  The first few times I made it, I used a blend of Anaheim and cayenne peppers.  Last year Keith shopped for the chili pepper plants and came home with habaneros.  If you know anything about the Scoville heat scale, you know that cayennes, while not at the mild end of the scale, are a couple hundred thousand units removed from habaneros which sit at the hottest end.

To make chili powder, you must first dry the chili peppers, then remove the stems and grind them up.  A lot of the heat is in the seeds, so I, being a wimp when it comes to hot peppers, shook out the loose seeds as well—habaneros are hot enough as is.  I had enough sense to wear latex gloves while handling these babies, but that is where good sense stopped.  When I took the lid off the grinder to see if any pieces remained intact, the cloud of chili powder, totally invisible to the naked eye, rose up into my face.  How did I know?  My nose started running, my lips started burning, and I sneezed nearly a dozen times.  I had pepper-maced myself.  I am so very glad I had reading glasses on.  I do not know what might have happened to these poor eyes!  I know people who don’t even use gloves to work with hot peppers, but next time I will reach for a gas mask!

Sin and conscience work the same way.  Especially nowadays when sophistication is judged by how little one allows sinful behavior to shock him, we have a tendency to think we can sin indiscriminately and feel just fine about ourselves afterwards.  What was it Paul said about the idolatrous pagans?  For when Gentiles who do not have the law, by nature do what the law requires, they are a law to themselves even though they do not have the law.  They show that the law of God is written on their hearts, while their conscience also bears witness, and their conflicting thoughts either accuse or even excuse themselves, Rom 2:14,15.  You can’t get away from your conscience no matter how sophisticated you think you are.

The scriptures are littered with people who suffered pangs of conscience.  Adam and Eve hid themselves after they had sinned.  The brothers of Joseph twice confessed their sin against their brother, attributing all the bad things that happened in Egypt with the hostile “Egyptian” ruler as their just recompense.  Pharaoh, of all people, said to Moses and Aaron, This time I have sinned.  The Lord is in the right, and I and my people are in the wrong, Ex 9:27.   David sinned more than the once we often focus on.  His “heart smote him” after he numbered the people in 2 Sam 24 and his psalms of repentance after the sin against Bathsheba and Uriah abound with overwhelming guilt. 

Herod was so wrought with guilt after killing John that he thought Jesus was John coming back from the dead.  Peter’s denial caused him to “weep bitterly,” while Judas’s betrayal led to suicide.  Even Paul, a man who surely knew he was forgiven, called himself “the chiefest of sinners” to the end of his life.

And we think we can get away with sin and have it not affect us?  Guilt is like that burning chili pepper cloud.  You can’t see it, but your conscience will still feel its effects, and if you don’t deal with it, you will lead a miserable life--at least until you burn that conscience out as if you had “branded it with a hot iron,” 1 Tim 4:2.

Do you know how to get rid of the pain of burning chili peppers?  Dairy products.  If you forget your gloves and those oils get under your nails or in a nick or cut, soak your hands in milk.  That is also why there is usually a dollop of sour cream on most Mexican dishes. 

Do you know how to get rid of the pain of a burning conscience?  Soak it in the blood of Christ.  It works wonders.

For if the blood of goats and bulls and the ashes of a heifer sprinkling them that have been defiled sanctify unto the cleanness of the flesh, how much more shall the blood of Christ who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish unto God, cleanse your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?  Heb 9:13,14.

Dene Ward

Despite the opinion of today’s woman, who believes that being a wife is so simple she must have something real to do with her life, it is not that easy.  Christians, too, have fallen into the notion that there is nothing to it.  Rather than studying what God has said with open and understanding minds, we have accepted the stereotype handed down by society, family, even older Christians.  Whereas the older training the younger is scriptural procedure, if their training comes only from subjective experience rather than the word of God, each generation gradually drifts from the original.  Too often culture has a way of sneaking into our thinking, and whereas the Scriptures suit all cultures, not all cultures suit the Scriptures.  I can be a modern woman and still be a Christian, but only if I accept God’s word in its entirety and alter my behavior as necessary.

Yet that isn’t the way it always works.  Countless numbers read Ephesians 5 and 1 Peter 3 in every ladies’ Bible class, and still do not recognize their own failures as wives.  We have brainwashed ourselves into believing that because we can quote these pet scriptures, are willing to say, “My husband is the head of the house,” and at least follow the norm in the church, we are good wives.  No wonder we find it so easy!  Paul warned the Corinthians about using something other than the scriptures to measure their righteousness (2 Cor, 10:12).  One can always find someone worse than she, if she looks low enough. 

James and John both teach that saying and doing are two entirely different things (James 2:18,20; 1 John 2:4; 3:18). The same women who quote scripture will ridicule their husbands to others, even in their presence, try to deceive them and think nothing of it, and make pronouncements about what those men will and will not do “in my house.”  The friends and neighbors who see us everyday, as opposed to we who blind ourselves to our behavior, may have an entirely different opinion about who runs our homes, and the state of our marriage.

We cannot be Christians without accepting the New Testament as our guide for living, and Ephesians 5, Colossians 3, and 1 Peter 3 are rich passages for us to turn to.  But if we do not know how to apply them, their benefit is lost.  Rom 15:4 gives the Christian the authority to search out the Old Testament for other clues to what God meant a wife to be.  She will find there many simple metaphors that will give her both a broader perspective and a deeper insight into the job she has before her.  It is a few of these passages we will look at in this study.

I hope you will join me every Monday for the next few weeks as we search the scriptures for these clues to being a godly wife.

Whoso findeth a wife, findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favor of Jehovah, Prov 18:22.

Dene Ward

            Along time ago we lived near a man who raised a little livestock.  He had a sow down the fence line from us, and one summer morning we woke to find piglets rooting their way through our yard, trying to find mama. Mama was too big to get under the pen, but the babies weren’t.  After that we kept tabs on those piglets, and the boys, who were about 6 and 4, loved going to see them.  Baby animals, as a general rule, are cute—even pigs.

            One evening I stuck my head out the door and hollered extra loudly, “Dinner!” because I knew that’s where they were.  Keith said they started back immediately, Nathan on his shoulders, and Lucas walking along side.  About halfway back he swapped boys, and told Nathan to run on ahead and wash his hands. As he watched, Nathan ran along the sandy path toward our driveway, then veered to the left instead of to the right toward the house.  Immediately his father yelled, ‘What did I tell you to do?!” and Nathan instantly changed his direction and ran for the house without even a backward look.

            As he approached the deep shade of the drive himself, Keith felt an inch tall.  Nathan’s tricycle was off to the left, parked in the hedgerow by our chicken pen.  That’s what he had been headed for because his father had taught him to always put up his tricycle.

            He put Lucas down on the ground and sent him on into the house as he went for the tricycle himself, to put it up for his younger son, who had only been trying to obey his father in all things.  Just as he got there, a gray-green cottonmouth as thick as a bike tire tube charged from the bushes.  Keith was able to grab a shovel in time and kill it. 

            Imagine if that had been a four year old.  Would he have seen the snake in time?  Would he have even known to be on the look out as one should here in the north Florida piney woods?  Cottonmouths are not shy—not only will they charge, they will change direction and come after you.  A snake that size could easily have struck above Nathan’s waist, and at forty pounds he was probably dead on his feet.

            Now let me ask you this—does your child obey you instantly?  Or do you have to argue, threaten, bribe, or cajole him into doing what you tell him to do?  Do you think it doesn’t matter?  The world is filled with dangerous things, even if you don’t live where I do—traffic, electricity, deep water, high drop offs—predators.  If you don’t teach him instant obedience, you could be responsible for his injury or death some day--you, because you didn’t teach him to obey.  Because you thought it wasn’t that important.  Because you thought it would make him hate you.  Because you thought it made you sound mean.  Or dozens of other excuses.

            We put our boys in child seats before it was required by law.  We actually had other people ask us, “How do you get him to sit in the seat?”  Excuse me? Isn’t it funny that when the law started requiring it, those parents figured it out?  Not getting in trouble with the law was evidently more important to them than the welfare of their children.

            The hedgerows don’t go away when your child grows up.  In fact, they become even more dangerous if you haven’t taught them as you should have.  Isn’t it sad when the elders of the church have to nag people to get them to do one simple thing for the betterment of the church or the visitors whose souls they are supposed to care about, like sitting somewhere besides the two back pews?  Those are probably the same people who as children had to be begged to obey their parents. 

            Do you want to know what someone was like as a child?  I can show you the ones who threw tantrums; they’re the ones who threaten to leave if things aren’t done their way.  I can point out the ones who wouldn’t share their toys; they won’t give up anything now either, especially not their “rights.”  The snake in the hedgerow has bitten them, and this time it poisoned their souls, not their bodies.

            Look around you Sunday morning.  Decide which of those adults you want your children to be like when they grow up.  It doesn’t happen automatically.  It happens when loving parents work hard, sometimes enduring a whole lot of unpleasantness and even criticism, to mold their children into disciples of the Lord.

            Danger hides in the hedgerows.  Make sure your child’s soul stays safe.

Now Adonijah [David’s son and] the son of Haggith exalted himself, saying, "I will be king." And he prepared for himself chariots and horsemen, and fifty men to run before him. His father had never at any time displeased him by asking, "Why have you done thus and so?" 1 Kings 1:5-6.

On that day I will fulfill against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from beginning to end. And I declare to him that I am about to punish his house forever, for the iniquity that he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God, and he did not restrain them, 1 Samuel 3:12-13.

Dene Ward

            Now pay attention!  “Irregardless” is not a word; the word is “regardless.”  “Preventative” and “attentative” are not words; the words are “preventive” and “attentive” without the extra “ta” syllable.  You go to an “orientation” session to become “oriented,” not “orientated.” 

            You are not “laying” in bed.  If you were, there would be a pile of eggs there.  Today you “lie” there, yesterday you “lay” there, and in the past you “have lain” there.  However, if you are talking about something you put in the bed, then today you “lay” it there, yesterday you “laid” it there, and in the past you also “have laid” it there. 

            The words are not pronounced “comPARable” and “irrePARable,” they are pronounced “COMparable” and “irREParable.”  And at least until recently when the lexicographers finally gave up and put it in as an allowed pronunciation, the word was correctly pronounced “off-en” without the T, rather than “off-ten” with the T.  At least know that the pronunciation of the word “often” has been corrupted, please. 

            “Hopefully the weather will clear up” is an impossibility.  The weather cannot do anything hopefully, and that is the word being modified in that sentence.  What you mean to say is, “I hope the weather will clear up.”  “Hopefully” used at the beginning of a sentence is almost always wrong.

            You cannot “bring” something to a place you are not at; you TAKE it there.  When you feel ill, you feel “nauseated.”  When you are “nauseous,” you are causing nausea in others, although my dictionary tells me that it has been used wrong for so long that they have created a second definition for it.

            You know what is so aggravating about all of this?  I am not a grammarian.  I did not have a grammar class after ninth grade.  The English classes after that were all literature and writing.  Any real grammar scholar could find fault with me.  I was, in fact, re-reading an old devotional the other day and found a split infinitive in it.  I am just an ordinarily educated person when it comes to grammar.  So if I know all these things, what in the world happened?  I see and hear them in what purports to be professional speech and writing all the time.  It’s one thing for us common folks to be less than careful about how we speak, but shouldn’t the pros have standards?

            Before you start on me for being too picky and fussy, let me remind you that I am in good company.  Paul and Jesus both made arguments based on word choice and grammar.

            In Galatians 3:16 Paul uses the number of the noun “seed” to prove that Jesus was the fulfillment to the promise to Abraham.  Now to Abraham were the promises spoken, and to his seed.  He said not, and to seeds, as of many, but as of one, and to thy seed, which is Christ.  In the first major controversy in the new kingdom, when Jewish Christians were attempting to force Judaism on Gentile Christians as necessary to salvation, that was important.  Pretty picky of Paul, wasn’t it?

            Jesus proved to the Sadducees the resurrection of the dead when he quoted God as He spoke to Moses on Mt Sinai from the burning bush, I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  At that point, those men had been long dead, yet God spoke of them in the present tense.  Jesus said, But as regarding the resurrection of the dead, haven’t you read that which was spoken to you by God, I am the God of Abraham and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob?  God is not the God of the dead, but of the living, Matt 22:31,32, an argument based solely on the tense of a verb.  Good thing it had nothing to do with “laying!”

            We have a tendency to think of those people in “Bible times” as primitive, ignorant folks.  Jesus made a claim of Divinity to them using two words, which of necessity were in the present tense.  Before Abraham was, I AM, John 8:58.  Did they catch something so fussy and nitpicky?  I think so.  They took up stones therefore to cast at him.  I wonder if today’s generation would have just shrugged their shoulders and walked on.

            It is permissible to be picky with the Scriptures.  We are in good company when we are.  Be careful however, that your pickiness is not about pettiness.  “Picky” and “petty” are not the same.  Jesus and the apostles were one, but not the other.  Study the difference, study your scriptures.  God did choose words to communicate with us, not subjective feelings.  Aren’t we glad?  There can be no mistake if you have it down in black and white.

Truly I say to you, till heaven and earth pass away, one jot or one tittle shall in no way pass from the law till all things are accomplished.  Whoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments and shall teach men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven.  But whoever shall do and teach them, he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven, Matt 5:18,19.

Dene Ward

Today’s post is by guest writer Melissa Baker.  See more at maidservantsofChrist.com.

Have you ever justified your sin by saying, "At least I don't do _____?"  Have you ever felt a secret pride in your sin because you didn't recognize it for what it truly was, a thorn trying to grow on a grape vine (Matthew 7:16)?  I'd like to say I've never done that.  It seems like such an obvious thing to avoid.  But when I was studying the Fruit of the Spirit, I had to face my own sin, and worse, I had to face the way I have treated sin in my life.


It starts with the difference between me and my husband.  You see, I have a temper, a very quick temper.  I'm like a match; I get angry quickly, but it burns out quickly too.  My husband is more like an oven.  It takes a lot to make him angry, but when he does he tends to hold on to it for awhile, silently "stewing."  I don't like "stewing."  So I justified my anger.  "Maybe I do have quick temper," I said, "but at least I don't stew."  I felt a twisted sense of pride in my short temper.

Then I started to study about patience.  I wonder if my "great idea" to cover the fruit of the Spirit in this blog may have been a bit providential.  When I looked at the word patience, the first definition in my concordance that jumped out at me was "slow to anger."  When I looked at the origin of the Greek word, I understood why.  The KJV is probably closer to the Greek when it lists "longsuffering" instead of patience.  The word in the original language is actually a compound word.  The two words?  Long and Temper.  Ouch.  

Long of temper. Slow to anger.  These phrases reminded me of multiple Old Testament descriptions of God himself.  Once again, the Fruit of the Spirit takes us back to the character of God.  I found nine references in the Old Testament where our Father is described as being slow to anger.  Why is it important to me that God is slow to anger?  The answer to that is obvious, and beautifully stated by the Psalmist:

The LORD is compassionate and gracious, Slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness.  He will not always strive with us, Nor will He keep His anger forever.  He has not dealt with us according to our sins, Nor rewarded us according to our iniquities.  For as high as the heavens are above the earth, So great is His lovingkindness toward those who fear Him.  As far as the east is from the west, So far has He removed our transgressions from us.  Just as a father has compassion on his children, So the LORD has compassion on those who fear Him (Psalm 103:8-13).

If God were not patient with us, then he would punish us according to our sins.  God has every right to be angry with my sin, especially with my justification of it.  Even before Jesus shed his blood to cover our sins, God was known as a merciful God.  He continued to lead his children even after they turned their back on him in the incident with the golden calf (Nehemiah 9:15-20).  

What about me?  If God were not patient, we would all be punished in the way we deserve.  As a Christian, I am striving to be more godly.  What happens when I am not longsuffering?  Unfortunately, my family can tell you exactly what happens.  I lash out with my tongue.  I show how angry I am by my petty actions.  An angry shout here, a slammed door there, it all adds up.  I don't abuse my children physically, but I have bruised their hearts.  Sure, I get over it quickly, but the wounds from my hurtful words to my husband are still there. I am not being godly.  God is patient and holds back the punishment that I rightly deserve.  I am impatient and punish my family with my anger.  Sadder still, I usually snap at stupid things.  They don't deserve the treatment I give them.

What I saw as "stewing" in my husband was really him being righteous.  Maybe he is angry, but he is "suffering long," withholding punishment in the form of angry words.  He is not bottling up his anger; he is modeling for me what I need to do.  Be quiet.  Calm down. Show grace.  Be patient.  I've learned that when I feel the smug feeling of superiority over someone, I probably need to look a little closer at my heart.  Self-righteousness in itself is wrong.  Don't believe me?  Read what Jesus had to say to the Pharisees.  In my case, though, the sin ran much deeper.  My self righteousness was a cover for a deeper sin that I refused to see.  Next time that ugly smugness rears its head, I'll be looking for a hidden sin.

Melissa Baker

            Doesn’t it seem to you that we are hearing less of those alien abduction stories these days?  I enjoy science fiction, especially Orson Scott Card, The X-Files, and Star Trek in all its various forms, but the fact that these kidnapping tales no longer seem to be en vogue, goes a long way to proving that they are more fiction than science.  I always wondered about those alien abductors anyway.  They seem to practice some sort of “catch and release” program.  Is it because they are concerned with the ecology of Homo sapiens on the planet Terra, or are they just having trouble finding a specimen worth keeping?  Maybe we no longer hear these stories because they have just given up on us.

            What about you?  What about me?  Would we be a good catch for some E.T.’s fishing expedition?  What sort of bait would it take?  Seems to me that the cheaper and more primitive the bait, the dumber the fish.  This space traveler would want a fish so smart he would really have to work at it to catch him, wouldn’t he?  He would want a healthy specimen with no diseases or rare abnormalities.  Maybe that’s why they stay away from me. 

            We could go all sorts of directions with this analogy.  For example, what sort of bait does it take for Satan to snare you—a cheap, obviously rubber worm, or an expensive, artfully made lure for a really smart fish? 

            But there is another application I find a lot scarier and more motivating.  Does God have a “catch and release” program?  I think so, though not like that of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.  Size doesn’t matter to God, nor does health, wealth, status, or any other physical or economic characteristic.  But if we start flip-flopping in God’s hands, desperately trying to get back into the waters of sin, he will let us go.  Yes, we have the promise, no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand, John 10:29, but that does not preclude God opening his hand so we can walk right out of it if we so choose.  Too many scriptures talk about falling away for me to think I have no choice in the matter.

            So my prayer every day is that God will be patient with me as a child who sometimes rebels against his parents’ rules simply because he does not have the experience and wisdom to see the big picture; that he will chasten my flip-flopping until I finally submit to Him who knows what is best; and that He will never throw me back.  Even Jesus used as an analogy for conversion “fishing for men.”  I don’t want to be “the one that got away.”

Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world.  If any one loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.  For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the vainglory of life, is not of the Father but of the world.  And the world passes away and the lusts thereof, but he who does the will of God abides forever, 1 John 2:15-17.

Dene Ward