Flight Paths

As I mentioned last month, I have had an awful time growing basil this year.  After trying seven or eight different plants, I have ended the summer with two basil plants left alive, each barely six inches tall.  I am still rationing out their leaves.  Basil is an annual and even if you protect it from the frost, it will eventually give out.  We never did have fresh pesto this summer.

Keith happened to say one evening, as he could barely taste the basil in the baked ziti, “What if this had been the first year you had tried to grow it?”  Indeed, what if it had?  I would probably never have tried again.

This led to a discussion about people.  What about that friend you invited to church but who “had a prior commitment?”  What about the neighbor you asked to study the Bible with you, but who was “just too busy right now?”  How many times did you ask?  How many times did you invite?  How many times did you even mention the spiritual things in your life to see if they might spark an interest?  Do you suppose that maybe those good folks were just having a bad year like my basil plants?

Sometimes I wonder if we don’t blurt these invitations out in nervousness or embarrassment, and then feel almost relieved when they are rejected.  “Whew!  Got that over with.  Now I don’t have to worry about it any more.” 

How long did it take for you?  How many approaches did you fend off before you finally realized your need?  How many times did you “kick against the pricks?”  Aren’t you glad God didn’t give up on you?  Aren’t you happy he realized that it might just be a bad year for good old Basil, and tried again?

Next year I will still plant Basil in my herb garden.  As many abundant years as he has given me, I know that this one was just an anomaly.  Don’t you think the people you know deserve the same consideration?

The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some count slackness, but is longsuffering to you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance, 2 Pet 3:9.

Dene Ward

I’ve seen it all my life, everywhere I’ve ever been—a brand of false teaching that even the best of us participate in, that even the best of us fall prey to.

Over and over we teach people to follow the examples of Herod and Herodias, of Ahab and Jezebel, of practically every evil king ever mentioned in the Bible.  We teach that example and we follow it ourselves.  The examples of Simon and David are left ignored, at least in that one area.  What am I talking about?  How to accept correction, how to appreciate the one who loves us enough to rebuke us or try to teach us better. 

What did Simon the sorcerer say when Peter rebuked him? “Pray for me that none of the things that you have spoken may come upon me.”  Simon was only interested in being right before God, not in saving face or somehow turning the rebuke back on Peter because he was so angry or hurt by it.

What did David say when Nathan stung him with the simple words “Thou art the man,” and followed it with a horrifying list of punishments, including the death of a child?  “I have sinned against the Lord.” And what did he do later?  He named a son after Nathan (1 Chron 3:5).  Every time he saw that child for the rest of his life, he was reminded of his namesake, the man who rebuked him and prophesied such devastating punishment.  All you have to do is read his penitent psalms to understand David’s attitude.  He was grateful to Nathan, not angry; heartbroken over his sin and joyful that God would even consider forgiving him.

Simon and David set the bar high for us, a brand new Gentile convert and a king who could have lopped off his accuser’s head at a word. Yet how often are we counseled to follow their examples?  Instead, we are coddled by people who blame the rebuker for being so hard.  Never have I heard anyone say the kinds of things that Peter and Nathan said.  “Your money perish with you.”  “You are in the gall of bitterness and the bond of iniquity.”  “Your heart is not right before God.”  “You have despised the word of God.” 

What examples do we teach instead?  We may not throw people into prison for their words as Ahab and Herod did, but we isolate them from others by spreading tales of “how mean they were to me,” allowing their name and reputation to be chewed up in the rumor mills.  We may not have them murdered as Herodias and Jezebel did, but we do a fine job of character assassination.  We follow faithfully in their evil steps and teach others to do the same when we pat them on the back and agree with their assessment of the one who dared tell them they were wrong.  In other words, we do it out of “love.”  I imagine Herod said the same as he turned the prison key on John, and then signed off on the death warrant.

Why is this example of how to accept correction so neglected?  Why do we reinforce the examples of evil people instead?  Is it because someday it might be us receiving that rebuke?  Someday it might be our turn to feel the hot embarrassment spreading like a fire across our faces and the acid churning in our stomachs? 

God meant us to love each other in exactly this way.  Brethren, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness, looking to yourself lest you also be tempted, Gal 6:1.  We all take turns at this.  We all need it.  And I have an important piece of information for you, one that should be obvious but apparently is not:  it never feels “gentle” when you are on the receiving end.  I have knocked myself out prefacing correction with “I love you” statements, with praise for the good in a person’s life, only to have to endure a cold shoulder for weeks or months or even years, only to hear later from others how “mean” I was.  I have also felt that sting of conscience when it was my turn to listen, and even when I knew the person speaking loved me.  But the good God meant to come from these things will be completely lost if all we do is tell the erring brother or sister that it’s just fine to be like Herod and Herodias.

So you think this isn’t false doctrine?  Then tell me what it is to teach others to be like evil men and women.  Whatever you come up with, it still isn’t right.

My brothers, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and someone brings him back, let him know that whoever brings back a sinner from his wandering will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins. James 5:19-20.

Dene Ward        

            Until we got Chloe, we had always practiced what pet owners know as “self-feeding.”  You fill up the feed pan and a few days later, when you notice that it is finally empty, you fill it up again.  Magdi always just ate what she needed to eat and no more, like most animals do.  In spite of the fact that she was an athlete who worked off an incredible number of calories every day, she was never tempted to overeat.

            Then came Chloe.  We kept up with the “self-feeding” once she started eating adult food because we wanted to make sure she got enough.  Magdi had a tendency to claim the feed pan as hers and guard it whether she was eating or not.  But we should have realized when we stood over Chloe and looked down that she was getting plenty to eat.  Instead of a straight line from her shoulders to her hind quarters, there was a significant bulge on each side.  When we took her to the vet, the doctor strongly recommended a low calorie diet.  Self-feeding does not work with Miss Piggy dining in the doghouse.

            In just a couple of weeks of measured daily feeding she slimmed down. She was much more active, running with Magdi across the fields as they played, and tearing up the ground to greet Keith at the gate when he came home.  She even leapt into the air chasing a bee a few weeks afterward and managed to get all four feet off the ground a foot or more.  We no longer have a piglet with a cold wet black nose and a wagging tail.

            God practices a sort of spiritual self-feeding.  His word is available to us any time we want it.  He has given us elders, wise leaders who see to our more formal spiritual meals, and who take that responsibility seriously.  But we can reach into the “pantry” any time we want and snack to our hearts’ content.  In fact, the shame is that instead of looking pleasantly plump in a spiritual sense, too many of us look like we have been on a fast.  When I have labored over a meal for several hours and hardly anyone comes to the dinner table, and those few just pick at their meals, I get a little miffed.  Don’t you suppose God does, too?

            Now, more than any other time in history, and here, more than any other place in the world, we can study the Bible any time we want to.  Where is our appreciation of the providence of God?  Where is our hunger for the meat of the word?  Have we filled ourselves up with the empty calories of pop culture and the simple carbs of modern philosophy to the point that we have no room for real food? 

            Take a moment today to examine what you are taking into your spirit, what you are filling your soul with, and determine to make a change in your spiritual diet.  Jesus called himself the Bread of Life.  Aren’t we interested in that life at all?

Our fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, as it is written, He gave them bread out of Heaven to eat.  Jesus therefore said unto them, Amen and amen, I say unto you, It was not Moses who gave you bread out of Heaven, but my Father gives you the true bread out of Heaven.  For the bread of God is that which comes down out of Heaven, and gives life to the world.  They said therefore to him, Lord, evermore give us this bread.  Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of Life; he who comes to me shall not hunger, and he who believes on me shall never thirst, John 6:31-35.

Dene Ward

Today’s post is by guest writer Keith Ward

Such a simple problem—if faith comes by hearing, why doesn’t everyone believe?  Paul clearly states that not all obeyed the “glad tidings,” which matches our experience (Rom 10:16-17).  In fact, few believe.

Shall we blame God?  Perhaps the problem is that most never have an opportunity to hear the word.  That seems to match the reality of billions of people and relatively few Christians of any shade, much less those preaching the whole gospel.  But, Paul declares, “Their sound went out into all the earth and their words unto the ends of the world” (10:18).  When we note that God manifested himself clearly in the things that are made, “his everlasting power and divinity,” the reality is that the gospel is available to any with open ears (Rom 1:18-20).  Most of us can relate stories that are ridiculously unbelievable concerning an honest seeker finding the gospel over insurmountable odds—how about the Ethiopian Eunuch?  The Philippian Jailor?  God’s word is available.

Well, then, if the word is God’s power and is available to all, why do the majority fail to have faith?  Paul is especially concerned that the majority of the chosen people, his people the Jews, had not found faith in Christ.  He points out that they had been warned that this would come to pass.  Israel would be provoked by other nations finding God and God declaring himself to them while they were left behind. (10:19-20).  This failure to believe is an open refusal to face facts, and the reason most never come to faith.  And Israel’s failure is often reflected in the churches of Christ where people will not hear the reading of scripture that does not match “the way we have always done it.”  As Daddy used to say, “It goes in one ear and out the other.”  Whether it be that the work of the preacher is not visiting the sick, or that the Lord’s Supper is to be a  fellowship/communion not oneself alone with his thoughts, or that the church was not given a name or any number of other traditions that simply are not so, THE people do not hear, but those without prior understanding—usually new converts--have open hearts.

Paul identifies the problem as the same one Jesus described in the parable of the soils.  There was no problem with the seed.  There was no problem in the manner of sowing.  The problem was the hearts into which it fell, or, “all the day long did I spread out my hands unto a disobedient and contrary people.” (10:21).  People do not hear because they do not want to be accountable to do what the gospel says and thus they turn away or never expose themselves to truth that might inconvenience their choices.  Others have that contrary attitude that seeks exceptions and excuses and problems, and never yields to the things that are heard.

So, indeed, Faith does come to ALL who hear the word.  The disappointment is that so few, in or out of the church, will hear.

If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead, Luke 16:31.

Keith Ward

Silas came to visit a few weeks ago all by himself.  Granddad had carefully planned the play time, and on the first afternoon, as the thermometer hit 95, and the sun beat down mercilessly, he grabbed the garden hose and I knew immediately what was up.

Keith was always a hands-on Dad, more hands on than the boys wanted in some cases, but also in the fun times.  He played with them from the time they were born, carefully moderating his strength when they were small, but never moderating the little boy inside that never quite left him.  One of my favorite pictures came when he knocked on the door one rainy day, and there the three of them stood, streaked with mud, having played in the soft warm rain throwing mud balls until you could only tell which was which by their relative size.

So now it was four year old Silas’s turn, his baptism by mud, so to speak, as Keith filled up the low spot in front of the sour orange and the herb bed, dammed by a berm so the water would back up and have time to soak into the ground before rushing on down the hill to the run just off the east side of the property.  As soon as the spot was a couple inches deep, Keith called him in to splash around.  Even that took awhile, but finally Silas waded in and started jumping up and down, squealing with delight as the water splashed up around him, and especially when it splashed on Granddad.

Then came the magic moment.  Keith reached down into the black mud, scratched up a handful, and flung it carefully onto Silas’s back.  Talk about indignant!  He scrambled up the slope to the carport where I sat in the breeze of a fan, drinking iced tea and watching the fun.  “Granddad threw mud on me,” he complained as he spun in a circle trying to see the damage behind him.

“So throw some on him!”  I said encouragingly.

He was aghast.  “But it’s dirty,” he argued.

“That’s the fun,” I told him, and he slowly walked back to the puddle, glancing over his shoulder at me with a skeptical look.

Granddad met him with another handful of mud, this time on the chest.  “Arghh!” he protested and scrambled away, but this time not to me.  I was obviously not on his side in this one.

“Here,” Keith said, and stood, chest bare and arms out wide.  “Throw some on me.”

Once again, Silas yelled, “No,” but it wasn’t long till he finally picked up a handful of mud on his own.  Keith stood there with a grin, waiting as Silas walked up to him.  But the little guy couldn’t stand it.  Just as he got within a four-year-old’s throwing range, he turned and threw the mud into the puddle instead.  Immediately, Keith picked up a handful and threw it on him.  Silas ran around in circles, but never left the area this time.  In a flash he had another fistful, but once again threw it in the puddle. 

Finally, Keith sat down in the mud.  “See?  I’m already muddy now.  It’s okay to throw it on me.”

It still took another five minutes, but finally Silas got into the spirit of the thing and threw a generous handful at Keith.   I am not sure how much reached skin, but he was as thrilled as if he had dumped a bucketful on him.

For the next thirty minutes the mud was flying.  They both wound up with mud caked on their shorts, dripping from clumps on their shoulders, bellies, backs, and even their heads.  I doubt Silas had ever been that dirty in his entire life, and he thoroughly enjoyed it.

I could do a lot with this one.  I could talk about hands-on fathering.  I could talk about shucking your dignity so you can play with your child, about shedding that authoritative image so he will know you love him enough not just to correct him, but to enjoy being with him--on his level, not yours.  That’s easy, so I will let you take care of that one.

How about this?  Did you notice how hard it was for Silas to actually start throwing the mud?  Even though he was assured it was all right, even though he was encouraged to have fun that normally was not allowed, it still took a long time for him to give in, but give in he did.  Why do we think we can hold up against far more powerful forces than that when we place our souls in harm’s way?

The world will tell you it’s all right.  The world will tell you it’s fun.  The world will say, “Look at me.  See?  I’m doing just fine, and so will you.”  If you think you won’t give in, you probably have an inflated opinion of your spiritual strength.  The truly strong person would have never been there to begin with.

So take it from a little boy who had the time of his life in a mud fight.  You will give in too, only your fight will end up with a dirt that can’t be washed away with a hose, and you may enjoy it too much to ever leave the mud puddle behind.

You therefore, beloved, knowing this beforehand, take care that you are not carried away with the error of lawless people and lose your own stability. But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be the glory both now and to the day of eternity. Amen, 2 Peter 3:17-18.

Dene Ward

If you missed yesterday’s Part 1 post, take a minute now and read it.  Today we will make a memory verse card.
             
Get out your pencils and let’s try a few things. But before you do, let me add this—you do not have to be an artist.  The only one who is worried about what
those drawings look like is you.  Once the child knows what they are, he uses them like other people use mnemonics—to help him remember.  And this is where the good old stick man comes into play.

I cannot draw.  I can’t even do a Jackson Pollock splatter.  Oh, I can do the basic tree--a brown stick with a fluffy green cloud on top. I can do a light bulb, which comes in handy every time you come across the word “light” in a verse. 
I can do the daisy on a stem with two leaves and the square house with
two windows and a door.  For a sheep, I can draw yet another fluffy cloud, this one white, with four stick legs, and a head and tail.  
 
No, I can’t do much in the way of drawing—but I can make a stick man do
practically anything.  He can pray, he can kneel, he can run, he can walk, he can fish (I will make you fishers of men), he can sleep, he can shout, he can talk or preach or sing or any other sound, simply by drawing him an open mouth. You tell the children what he is doing—trust me, they will remember.  
             
One other thing:  make important words look special.  Always put God or Lord or Spirit in a puffy cloud.  Draw only the bottom half of a cloud and write “heaven” in it when you need that word.  Take words like faith and grace and good and evil, put them in all caps and box them in an appropriate color, like blue for good and red for evil.  Before long, those children who are “too young to learn anything” will actually start to recognize those special words.

So what did I do with that hard memory verse?  Remember as you read the verse below, the drawings replace one word or phrase; you don’t write the words under the drawing.  What I drew ended up like this (the brackets are the pictures I drew instead of the word or phrase immediately preceding them):  
             
See [Stick man with hand above his eyes as if he is looking off in the distance] what kind of love [heart] the FATHER (in a cloud) has given to us [3 stick men, one handing something to two others] that we should be called [stick man with
hands around his mouth and flared out lines coming from his mouth] children
[several smaller stick people] of GOD (in a cloud).

Silas learned that verse in one afternoon, and he loved that card.  If he could learn that one, what’s to stop him from simple things like “You are the light of the world, a city set on a hill?”  Come on now, you can draw that one yourself, right?
             
One more step remains in this process.  Eventually you should reach the point
that you can draw only one or two of the pictures from that card onto a smaller
one.  Then use it like a flashcard.  When your child sees it, s/he should automatically spout out the longer verse.  It will happen.  As you add verses, you constantly go over the old ones using only the small “one picture”
flashcards.  I used to have the parents come into the class after services at the end of every quarter.  When they saw their two and three year olds quoting ten or eleven memory verses just from looking at a simple line drawing, or a good old stick man, on an index card, they were amazed.
         
Your child can do it too.  I know it, and so does God.

Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children's children--Deuteronomy 4:9.


Dene Ward


  

The mind of a child is an amazing thing.  It processes and stores information like a computer, tons of it every day as he learns how to communicate, how to get along with others, how to quantify, how to adapt.  And he learns these things much faster than we seem to realize.  Trust me, your child knows when you are happy with him and when you are not before he is a year old, and he knows how to get exactly what he wants—he will train you far better than you will train him if you aren’t careful.

Although I taught all ages of piano and voice students, my Bible class teaching gradually shifted till I was teaching the middle school class most of the time.  I forgot some of the techniques I had used so long ago when my own boys were toddlers.  Then Silas came to visit during Vacation Bible School and they sent him back to us with a memory verse, the wording of which I knew immediately would be difficult for a three year old.: See what manner of love the father has given to us that we should be called children of God, 1 John 3:1.

Just repeating this three or four times was not going to get it done.  Then I remembered the old memory verse cards I used to make for the toddler class.  You turn the memory verse into something resembling a rebus, a picture puzzle, substituting drawings for certain words.  I developed my own “ethics” though.  I never used what I call text language.  No number 4 for the word “for” and no homonyms.  That would only make the verse harder for them to comprehend, which was the ultimate goal. 

That leads me to an important aside.  Some people are convinced that small children cannot memorize; some are even convinced that memory verses are overrated.  Small children cannot memorize?  Have you ever heard a two year old recite word for word an entire scene from a Disney movie?  Have you ever accidentally misread their favorite book only to have them say, “No!  It goes like this…” and then proceed to finish the page for you? 

Just because it’s scripture doesn’t mean they can’t do it.  Josephus says of the Jews that their children were “nourished up in the laws from their infancy.”  Edersheim says in Sketches of Jewish Social Life that in the time of Christ, home teaching began when the child was three, and then at five he started the book of Leviticus!  What a way to begin. As far as memory verses being overrated, I don’t know what I would do without the verses that were implanted in both my head and heart from the time I can remember.  They rise up when I need them, and have gotten me through a number of tough situations.  How can anyone say that having the word of God instantly spring to your lips and your mind is overrated?

As for these memory verse cards, Silas loved them.  Even though he couldn’t read them, he carefully pointed out word for word, using the pictures to jog his memory.  Whenever I pulled it out he asked, “Can I hold it?” and was thrilled to show others how he could say his memory verse.  Isn’t that the kind of reaction you want from your children as they learn the word of God? 

Tomorrow’s post will lead you through the process of making a memory verse card.  I hope you will overcome your skepticism and join me again.

Blow the trumpet in Zion; consecrate a fast; call a solemn assembly; gather the people. Consecrate the congregation; assemble the elders; gather the children, even nursing infants. Let the bridegroom leave his room, and the bride her chamber…Tell your children of it, and let your children tell their children, and their children to another generation. Joel 2:15,16; 1:3.

Dene Ward

When Silas came to stay all by himself for the first time, we were not sure how he would handle being away from Mommy and Daddy.  Especially since we were over two hours away, it would have been impossible to get him back home quickly if he were too homesick to last.  He was still three, barely, and, though he had stayed alone with us the night Judah was born, and the night after as well, that was at his own home and he slept in his own bed.

We managed to keep him talking about happy things all the way home, deeper and deeper into the “dark, spooky woods” as he later called it.  It was after nine o’clock at night and, if you have never experienced it, there is nothing quite as dark as “country dark”—away from the streetlights, traffic lights, parking lot lights, and neon signs of the city.  Only once or twice did he stray into the dangerous territory of “Where will I sleep tonight?” in a pensive tone of voice.

“We’re here!” we shouted as we pulled up to the gate, wondering aloud in excited voices if Chloe would come to meet us.  That kept him happy as we pulled into the carport and unfastened his booster seat straps.  Then, just as we walked toward the back porch, an owl screamed not fifty feet away, sounding every bit like a hysterical woman, followed by a “Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha” before finally settling into its usual “Who-hoo.” Silas was up those steps in a flash, plastered next to his grandfather’s leg and looking over his shoulders with eyes as big as Frisbees.  How could I tell in the dark?  Even in the dim starlight I could see white all the way around those big blue irises.

“Uh-oh,” I thought.  “He will be terrified for the rest of the night.”  Luckily Grandma had made some ooey-gooey chocolate cookies and that took care of the problem.  That first impression, which could have ruined the entire stay, was fairly easily overcome, but I think it often is for children.  It’s the adults among us who hang on to them.

And that brings me to today’s point.  We all know that old saying, “You only get one chance to make a first impression.”  I wish we could remember that all the time, not just when we are meeting someone we hope to impress for our own selfish interests.  Everyone who comes into contact with us, anywhere and any time, is a soul we might be able to save.  What if that first impression you make is the only impression you will ever make?

I try to remind myself of that when I have a bad experience at a store or in a restaurant.  If I fly off the handle and act like a jerk, if I indulge in harsh words that suit my sense of an injustice having been done me, demanding “my rights” as a customer or patron, how will I ever persuade them to study the Bible with me?  Could I turn right around and hand them an invitation to church services, a gospel meeting, or a ladies Bible class?  Just exactly what kind of reaction do you think I would get?  Did you have a bad morning?  Our bad moods can be very expensive—they can cost someone else his soul.

So remind yourself the next time you are caught in a tricky situation.  Paul told the Corinthians they should be willing to suffer wrong so the church wouldn’t be ridiculed by the litigious behavior among them (1 Cor 6:7).  What are we willing to suffer so the first impression we leave with someone, won’t guarantee that it will be the last?

Show yourself in all respects to be a model of good works, and in your teaching show integrity, dignity, and sound speech that cannot be condemned, so that an opponent may be put to shame, having nothing evil to say about us, Titus 2:7-8.

Dene Ward        

As Keith says, we are so typical it’s embarrassing.  Be that as it may, let me tell you about my grandson.

He had just turned two.  As he sat there in his high chair licking the frosting off his cupcake he quite deliberately read the letters on his Happy Birthday sign, the one that used to hang over our dining room windows when his father and uncle had a birthday, “H-A-P-P-Y,” all the way through to the end, never missing a letter.  Then he told us what colors the letters were, each one different.  Before that he had recited the alphabet, not sung it mind you, but recited it.  Then he had counted to nearly 20 and recognized all the numbers.  All day he had been pointing out shapes, including “oval” and “rhombus.”

Shortly after we had arrived, his granddad had read him a book.  “See the fish?” he said.

”Dolphin,” two year old Silas instantly corrected.

His parents told us about a time a couple months before when a friend from church had come walking through the restaurant where they sat.  “Hi Mark,” they said, and suddenly my 22 month old grandson was reciting, “Luke, John, Acts, Romans,” taking up right where he thought his parents had left off. 

Isn’t it normal for parents and grandparents to brag on their kids?  Do you think God doesn’t have the same feelings we do?  When I brag on my grandson, when I say he is the cutest, smartest little boy in the whole world, I am simply living up to the image in which I was created.  “Have you considered my servant Job?” God asked Satan.  “There is none like him in all the earth.”

At least twice God spoke from Heaven about his Son, “This is my Son in whom I am well pleased.”  Don’t you know God loved saying that?

When God made Israel his chosen people, his children, he had every right to expect them to behave like his children should.  Now therefore, if you will indeed obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my treasured possession among all peoples, for all the earth is mine; and you shall be to me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation, Ex 19:5,6. 

When they didn’t he was just as devastated as we would be if our children did not behave themselves well. For as the loincloth clings to the waist of a man, so I made the whole house of Israel and the whole house of Judah cling to me, declares the LORD, that they might be for me a people, a name, a praise, and a glory, but they would not listen, Jer 13:11.

In a Messianic passage, Isaiah speaks of the coming kingdom, the church.  You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the LORD, and a royal diadem in the hand of your God. You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate, but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her…for the LORD delights in you, Isa 62:3,4.  Just as Old Testament Israel had the chance to make God proud of them, we have that chance today. 

What would people think about your Father if they saw your behavior and heard you speak?  What would they think if they saw how you treated the poor, the sick and the weak?  What would they think if they saw how you drive, how you dress, how you work for your employer?  All some people will ever know about God is what they see in you.

Make your Heavenly Father proud enough to brag about you today.  “Have you seen my child?  There is none like him in all the earth.”

His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence, by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire, 2 Pet 1:3,4.

Dene Ward

Today’s post is by guest writer Helene Smith.  See more at maidservantsofChrist.com.

The day my oldest daughter was born I couldn't help thinking of Mary.  Here I was in July, in an air-conditioned hospital room, hopped up on pain killers, following a C-section, and I am thinking about nativity scenes.  Weird, I know.  But I bet I am not the only Christian mom who looked at her own baby and thought of the mother of that holy baby. Mary was haunting my thoughts.

Luke records Mary's story almost as if he sat down and chatted with her.   He was inspired but he still did research (Luke 1:1-3). So I wonder about his source. Did he have her diary? Did he sit down with one of her children or an old familiar friend to record such intimate things? How did he know Mary "treasured these things in her heart?" (Luke 1-2) Regardless of his research materials, Luke lays out Mary's path, beginning with joy and confusion, passing through deep sorrow and landing soundly back in the land of joy.

After the angel delivers the astonishing news that she, a virgin, will conceive, she runs off to see Elizabeth. She declares in her song, "For the Mighty One has done great things for me" (Luke 1:49). Elizabeth names her blessed among women and Mary says that she will be counted as blessed for all generations.  The conversation between the two of them overflows with the idea that Mary has been gifted by God.  

Yet only a few months later the story seems bleaker.  Joseph, hearing that the girl he never touched is pregnant, almost ends their engagement.  After angelic interference he remains betrothed to her, but it was not the marriage she envisioned. They remain celibate until after the baby's birth.  Not every young girl's dream.  When Augustus' fiscal policy crashes through their life, things get even worse.  Swinging a heavy belly in front of her, Mary walks (my college professors thought that donkey thing was unlikely at best) all the way from Galilee to the overcrowded Bethlehem.  

Far from her home and family, far from all the things she would have carefully prepared for her baby, she gives birth to the son of God. This blessing thing doesn't seem to be working out for Mary.  An unexpected twist brings some shepherds in to see the new baby.  So instead of the parade of adoring grandparents she might have had, she has a parade of shepherds. Instead of old friends comfortably passing the news about the weight and length of her little son, she has shepherds proclaiming all through the streets that her son's birth was hailed by an angelic chorus.  
 
Mary was blessed and that very blessing caused her pain. Although the idea seems a little strange at the outset, it is the story of being a mom.  We see the double lines on the stick and we cry with joy.  Even moms who regretted a pregnancy find it impossible not to delight in those tiny little fingers and tiny little toes.  Yet no child is brought into the world without pain. The 5-year old who brings us daisies is the 15 year old who screams, "I hate you" across the house.  

If we stopped here, things don't look too bad. On the eighth day, Mary and Joseph head to Jerusalem to circumcise Jesus.  In a lesser known story they meet two elderly people, Simeon and Anna, who see the infant Savior and instantly know who he is.  Simeon breaks up what till now has been a relatively cheerful tale. He looks at Mary and says, "and a sword will pierce even your own soul."  That doesn't sound like a story with a happy ending.

When our children are born, we aren't promised happy endings.  I have a friend whose son was born with several birth defects that will prevent him from reaching adulthood.  I know a couple whose middle school aged daughter has been diagnosed with a terminal illness. I knew an elderly couple who though 10 years removed from the event, never made it back to full functioning after the death of their daughter.  I can't imagine a more accurate description of the horror of losing a child than "a sword will pierce even your own soul."

Jesus had two parents standing by the cross.  One watched from Heaven and the other from earth.  I cannot comprehend what it must have cost both of them.  But I understand Mary the better of the two.   When I think of the "fellowship of His sufferings," it's Mary that comes to mind. (2 Corinthians 1:5, Philippians 3:10, 1 Peter 2:21, 4:13).  

I can mouth the words, "suffer with Christ," but Mary stood there and watched her oldest child, the one she played patty-cake with, the one she bathed, the one she watched take his first step, die.  I've given baths and played patty cake, so I can begin to imagine how I could share in His sufferings.  I have a friend who's a missionary.  When she left home it broke her mother's heart.  Having a mom with enough faith to send her anyway healed my friend's heart.  What comfort it must have been for Jesus to look down and see Mary there suffering alongside him.  

The day my oldest girl was born my feet were set on a path of blessing and suffering, and I began to learn what it is like to be Mary. I want to suffer at the sight of my Savior's suffering.  More than that, I want to stop whining about the minuscule things I suffer for Him.  Mary's story ends in joy.  Her son went from the Suffering Servant to the resurrected glorified Messiah.  Even if we have to follow Mary's path all the way to the end, we have the hope that we too shall be reunited with our children in glory.

Helene Smith