Flight Paths

I was the only teacher in the county who could do it.  I was the only teacher in the county who had ever done it herself.  It’s the reason I charged more than any other teacher in the county:  I alone could prepare a student for a college audition.

The school of music is not like most other colleges in a university.  You can walk into practically any other with only your high school education and do fine.  You can say, “Turn me into a teacher,” and they can.  You can say, “Prepare me for law school,” and they can.  You can say, “Make me a nurse,” and they can.  But if you are not already a musician of at least some caliber with as many years of private teaching behind you as possible, the school of music will not take you.

My college audition consisted of two tests, a performance, and an interview.  One test was four pages of written theory that taxed my knowledge to the limit—keys, chords, terminology, the ability to analyze a page of written music and then writing four part harmony, both notated and not—in other words, writing out music that was playing in my head instead of my hands.

Another was aural theory.  What’s that, you ask?  “Given a steady beat, notate this rhythm,” at which point the examiner tapped out a complex pattern containing every different kind of note he could fit in, plus dots and triplets.  Then followed a melody of which I was only told the first note and had to write the rest from ear alone, including correct rhythm—eight bars worth.  Then followed several chord progressions which I had to identify by ear, half a dozen or so. 

Then the performance:  a major original piece by a recognized composer.  Mine was the Chopin Polonnaise in C minor, all 7 pages from memory.  But that wasn’t all.  I had to perform “on demand” any of the 13 major scales, four octaves in sixteenth notes at an appropriate tempo with the correct fingering, and all three forms of any of the 13 minor keys the same way, with accompanying cadences, using common tone progression.  Which were “demanded”?  E Flat Major—not too bad—and F Sharp Minor (think, girl, think!).

And the interview?  Who is your favorite composer and what do you like about his music?  (Translation:  do you know anything besides how to play it?)  Who have you played?  (Are you a one-hit wonder—the pet student of your studio teacher because you were the only one who could learn the first movement of the Pathetique Sonata; otherwise “Fur Elise” was the pinnacle of your student career.)          

What’s the point of all this?  When James says, “Be not many teachers, my brethren, knowing we shall receive heavier judgment,” (3:1), he wasn’t just blowing smoke through his hat.  When God listed the teaching objectives in His Son’s body, he included the perfecting of the saints, ministering, building up the body, attaining unity, becoming knowledgeable, becoming stable, learning to love, and growing up to the same height as Christ (Eph 4:11-16).  That’s what he expected teachers in the church to accomplish with their students.  If you think those do not apply to you, especially not if you only teach the preschool class, you are sorely mistaken.

The preparation for my college audition began at my first lesson—when I learned the fundamentals of keeping a steady beat, playing one note with one hand and one note with the other, back and forth, back and forth, while my teacher played an accompaniment that made it sound like real music.  You are doing the same thing when you teach a two year old, “God made me.”  Everything else will lie on that one fundamental principle.

How are your women’s classes?  Are you really studying the Word of God or just exchanging opinions?  Do you know more today than you did last year?  Have you changed your mind about anything?  And the most telling of all—do you handle life better than you used to?  Has your behavior in certain circumstances completely changed based on the growth of your character, or do you still fight the same old battles against sin, and most of the time, lose?

All Bible teachers should be preparing their students to pass one final audition.  If you think those old “read a verse and comment classes” were doing that, maybe you should think twice about your ability—and responsibility—as a teacher of the Word of God.  You are not there to fill the time, to check off the fact that this church has today met it’s obligation to “study.” 

Teaching the Word is an awesome and frightening privilege.  I pray about it before I do it because God will hold me accountable when the time comes for the audition.  If my students don’t pass, then neither do I.

Let a man so account of us, as of ministers of Christ, and stewards of the mysteries of God. Here, moreover, it is required in stewards, that a man be found faithful. 1 Corinthians 4:1-2

Dene Ward

“They didn’t come see me when I was sick.”

You’d think by now I’d be used to it.  I’ve heard it everywhere I’ve been, but it still amazes me that people who have been Christians for decades still view suffering the wrong way.  Yes, we suffer in this life.  All of us suffer in one way or the other.  So why do those few think that the reason for their suffering is so they can be “Queen for a Day?” 

Probably only a few of you remember that show.  I was very young myself.  Originally it aired on a local radio show in LA, but it was picked up for national broadcast by NBC on January 3, 1956.  It has been called the first “reality show” and it was roundly criticized even in its day.  It went like this:  three or four women showed up to tell their stories of woe and suffering and the audience voted on who was suffering the most and that one “lucky” woman received a robe, a crown, a bouquet of roses, and several prizes, in effect being treated like a queen for one day.  A contest to see who is suffering the most?  Really?  But isn’t that what so many in the church do?  “I deserve more attention than so-and-so because I have more problems than she does.”

People who constantly complain about not getting enough attention are giving themselves away for, as Jesus says, “Out of the heart the mouth speaks,” Matt 15:18.  Indeed, if my suffering were as severe as my “Woe is me!” attitude, I wouldn’t be thinking about the attention I do or don’t get, but about the trial itself.  But all that is beside the point.  Suffering is not about being served.

Peter tells us that suffering refines us, makes us pure and stronger (1 Pet 1:6-9).  James seems to indicate that suffering brings wisdom (Jas 1:2-6).  But I think that even those things don’t reach the ultimate reason we suffer.  Suffering is about discipleship.  A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone when he is fully trained will be like his teacher, Luke 6:40.  Why do we think we can be a disciple of a suffering servant and never suffer like he did?

So why did Jesus have to suffer?  Hebrews tells us that because he suffered he is able to help those who also suffer (2:18), and that as a high priest he is able to sympathize with us (4:15.).  He learned obedience by the things he suffered “with loud cries and tears,” (5:8).  Yes, he really suffered and the whole purpose of his suffering was so he could help others who are suffering the same way.

So why do I suffer?  Doesn’t it make sense that as a disciple of Christ, I am suffering for the same reason he did, so I can accomplish the same thing he accomplished?  We neither suffer so we can be the center of attention nor so we can stand as judge over others who give that attention.  We suffer so that we can better serve those who are suffering similar things.  Even the purity, strength, and wisdom that come from suffering helps us accomplish those ends.  As with everything else in a Christian’s life, my suffering is not about me, it is about others. 

Have you been forsaken by an unfaithful spouse?  Be willing to talk openly to those who are going through the same things.  You may well be the only one who understands the thoughts that go through one’s head, the looks you get from others, the ordeal of custody battles and the instant poverty that sometimes accompanies this betrayal.

Have you survived cancer?  Look for new victims who feel the constant pressure of wondering not if it will return, but when.  Look for still others, not just cancer victims, but anyone with a bleak prognosis.  No one understands the axe hanging over their heads like you do.

Have you been the victim of violent crime?  No one understands the constant terror that one lives with after that, the burden of overcoming paranoia—seeing a boogeyman behind every face in a parking lot, in a grocery aisle, passing you in a car as you walk to get the mail.  No one else can understand the embarrassment of once again becoming a little child who is afraid of the dark.

Have you lost a child?  Have you lost a child to the world?  Have you faced financial ruin?  Have you lost everything to a fire, a hurricane, a tornado?  Are you facing disability or the caregiving of a spouse who no longer knows who you are?  Everyone has faced something, and God expects you to use that experience, and the strength and wisdom you have gained from it, to help someone else.  You are the Lord’s agent on this earth.  Don’t let all your pain go to waste.

None of this can be accomplished if I am still whining about a loss that occurred years ago.  No one can be helped if I am still expecting everyone to pat me on the back for every little thing that comes along.  At some point God expects me to get over it.  Some afflictions are more difficult than others.  Some trials need a longer recovery period, but mature Christians eventually grow past the selfish need for attention. 

We don’t suffer so we can be “Queen for a Day.”  On the contrary, suffering makes us both eligible and obligated to help others.  God expects me to search out those who need my special experiences and serve.  Just when has He ever expected anything less of His people?

So Jesus also suffered outside the gate in order to sanctify the people through his own blood. Therefore let us go to him outside the camp and bear the reproach he endured.. Hebrews 13:12-13

Dene Ward

I used to jog.  As my vision has decreased, my exercise regimen has changed as well.  The jog became a walk, then a walk with trekking poles as support, and now an indoor elliptical machine.  But I miss that outdoor time---six laps of a ½ mile plus each.  No, I did not get bored walking around in circles every day.  I have learned more about wildflowers, trees, and birds than ever before, and my dog and I have a game we play that I am positive she has made up rules for.  The walk is also an excellent time for prayer and meditation. 

About the only thing I did not like about the path was the occasional spider web, especially when I was surprised by a face full of one.  Like all predatory traps, they are practically invisible.  If I were a fly instead of a human, I would have been snared and eaten a long time ago.

One morning as I came east across the north end of the property, I passed through a shaft of sunlight shining on a web ahead of me, turning it into spun gold.  Just in time I was able to stop, grab a twig from the ground, and wipe the web out of my path.

Satan is never called a spider, but his traps are exactly like those spider webs.  They are invisible.  Unless you shine the light of God’s word on them, you will walk right into them.  They may even look attractive, like the beautifully intricate web I saw that day.  We must never forget that they are as deadly to us as a spider web is to a fly.

The opening of your word gives light;
            It gives understanding to the simple.
I opened wide my mouth and panted,
            For I longed for your commandments.
Turn unto me and have mercy on me,
            As you do to those who love your name.
Establish my footsteps in your word,
            And let not any iniquity have dominion over me.
Psalm 119:130-133

Dene Ward

It takes us three days to pack for a camping trip.  I have a list saved on the computer that I print out every time—three pages.  Yes, I said three pages.

Just for meals, for instance, I pack cups, mugs, plates, soup bowls, a measuring cup, grill tools, saucepans, skillets, the coffee pot, propane stoves, matches, gas canisters, coffee filters, a griddle, a folding grill, a mixing bowl, silverware, mixing spoons and spatulas, foil, Ziplocs for leftovers, a bacon drippings can, paper towels, dish soap, a dish pan, dish towels, hot pads, and trash bags, and that doesn’t count the food!  Now imagine things you need for every part of your day, from brushing your teeth, to hiking, to showering, to sitting around after dark reading, to going to bed, and you begin to see why the list is three pages long.

We use this list because I have found that if I don’t have it to cross off, I will invariably forget something.  From time to time we delete something on the list or add something as our situation changes.  When we were young we didn’t need to take two boxes of medications. 

We keep a backup disk of items saved on the computer.  That list is on it.  Should we ever lose it, I might even be tempted to never go camping again.  I cannot imagine having to remake the list from memory.  More likely, we would remake it around the fire the first night after discovering all the things we forgot.

When we had boys with us, I had other things on the list that were equally important.  In fact, I was probably more careful about their things than mine.  I wanted them to have enough clothes, especially enough warm clothes.  I learned that lesson the hard way when we woke up by a mountain stream one June morning to fifty degree temperatures and they had nothing but shorts and tee shirts to wear.  Fifty degrees in June?  As a Florida native I didn’t even know that was possible, and I felt horrible, quickly mixing up some warm oatmeal and hot chocolate while Keith built a campfire for them to huddle around as they ate.

We are all on a trip every day of our lives.  What have you packed for your children?  Too many parents just let life happen without a plan.  Do you teach them?  Do you talk with them every chance you get about a God who loves them, who made them, and who expects things of them?  Do you discuss the things that happen in their lives and the decisions they made, or perhaps should have made?  Do they know that those decisions will affect their eternal destiny?  Do you allow them to pay the consequences for their mistakes, or do you shelter them?  Do you tell them what the world is really like out there, how to recognize the traps, the enemies in disguise and the true values of life?  Are you sure you have everything they could possibly need to assure their eternal destiny?

Maybe you need to make a list.

We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the LORD, and his might, and the wonders that he has done. He established a testimony in Jacob and appointed a law in Israel, which he commanded our fathers to teach to their children, that the next generation might know them, the children yet unborn, and arise and tell them to their children, so that they should set their hope in God and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments; Psalms 78:4-7.

Dene Ward

One of my favorite ways to cook vegetables, especially fresh summer vegetables, is to roast them.  Cut in similar sized chunks squash, zucchini, sweet peppers, onions, eggplant, and anything else that suits you, carrots, fennel, and leeks maybe, sprinkle with salt and pepper, drizzle with olive oil and roast on a baking sheet at 425 degrees for 30-45 minutes, depending upon your oven and the size chunks you cut.  About halfway through, throw in sprigs of fresh marjoram, oregano, rosemary, and thyme, and some minced garlic.  Stir every 15 minutes.  Yummy!

Without water to dilute the flavor, and with high direct heat to caramelize the outsides, the natural flavor of each vegetable concentrates and sweetens.  Dieticians can probably tell you the scientific processes that cause the sugars to creep to the surface and brown, but I don’t need a dietician to tell me this is the best way to eat fresh vegetables.  And every summer when the garden is producing more than we can possibly keep up with, it is also the healthiest.

A few years ago, a good brother teaching 1 Peter 1: 6,7, if need be you have been put to grief by many trials, that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold that perishes, though it is proved by fire…, said that when Christians are tried by fire they are “purifried.”  I think that was a slip of the tongue, but his accidentally coined word has stuck with me ever since. 

I used to pray for God to keep my children from trials in their lives, but I got to thinking one day about some of the things we have been through.  I bet you have a similar list, things so traumatic at the time you can even put a date on them—September 2, 1988, March 16, 1996, February 22, 2002, February 8, 2005.  And that doesn’t count the lesser ones—November 1981, June 1984, and so on.  Do you know what?  We made it through all of them, and we are not the same people today that we would have been if we had never experienced them.

So, to our three precious children, I no longer pray that God will spare you from trials.  But I do pray that your faith will be strengthened to see them through, that you will grow as servants of the Lord, and that your wisdom will increase with each experience.  As your Mom, I can’t help but add, though, “Please, Lord, don’t make them too hard.” 

This is the only way to account for passages such as James wrote in 1:2-4, Count it all joy, my brothers, when you fall into many trials; knowing that the proving of your faith works patience, and let patience have its perfect work that you may be perfect and entire, lacking in nothing.  Those people understood the value of pain.  We all want to lose weight without dieting, slim down and tone up without exercising, grow knowledgeable with studying, but it just won’t happen.  Nor will growth in faith occur without experiencing some difficulties in life. 

How many clichés do we have about this?  “No pain, no gain.” “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.”  They are clichés for a reason:  they are true.  All I have to do is look at my garden and my flower beds.  All those carefully tended, watered, and fed plants will die when the drought comes.  Those tough old weeds will grow regardless. 

As to my roasted vegetables, cooking them under high heat sweetens them.  I need to pray that the roasting I undergo will “purifry” me as well.

Wherein you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been put to grief in manifold trials; that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold that perishes, though it is proved by fire, may be found unto praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ; whom not having seen you love, on whom though now you see him not, yet believing, you rejoice greatly with joy unspeakable and full of glory; receiving the end of your faith, even the salvation of your souls. 1 Pet 1:6-9

Dene Ward

When I was a city girl, nearly forty years ago, I was scared to death of snakes.  I still don’t like them.  The difference is I can tolerate a non-poisonous one on the property now, trusting they will pay their way with all the rodents they keep out of my house; and when a poisonous one comes along I don’t freeze or run around in circles, screaming in hysteria--I just dispose of the thing.

You know the best way to kill a snake?  Well, it may not actually be the best way, but the city girl in me thinks it’s perfect—a shotgun full of number one shot.  For those of you who are still city folks, that’s a load for large animals, like deer.  We had a rattler once when Keith was at work, and even though I kept from freezing or panicking to the point of uselessness, I still forgot to unload the larger shot and replace it with number four, a load for smaller animals.  That means when I shot that snake with that huge shot, I blew it to smithereens.  As I said, I was extremely satisfied.

Well—mostly satisfied.  The thing kept right on writhing.  Yes, I know all about their reflexes and that they thrash about after death.  But that thing was flexing and re-flexing entirely too much to suit me.  So I got the .22 pistol and put a few more shots in it.  Then, I was satisfied.  When I picked the thing up with the tines of the rake to throw it into the burn barrel, it hung in chunks connected only with a few strings of skin—and it didn’t wiggle at all.  Best looking rattlesnake I ever saw.  The boys can make fun of me all they want, and laugh about it as they have for the past twenty-something years, but that snake was dead and there was no question about it.

Some of us don’t make sure the snake is dead.  In fact, we not only leave it writhing, we put it somewhere for safe keeping just in case it isn’t dead after all.  That’s how we treat repentance.  I know I shouldn’t be indulging, so let me put it up on the shelf instead of down here on the counter top where I can see it every day.  No!  Let’s get it out of the house altogether!  Whatever it is.

It doesn’t have to be a huge sin of the flesh.  It doesn’t have to be a bottle of booze or a stack of pornography.  Sometimes it’s a gossip-fest.  I know that my friend always dishes the dirt, but I still make plans to see her every week.  If for some reason I must see her, then I go with no plan for how to avoid the sin, and yesiree, it pops up and, I just couldn’t help it, Lord.  You know how she talks—and how I listen. 

Whatever it is, God expects me to kill that snake and make sure it’s dead.  Another one may come my way, but there is really no good reason for the same one to be making an appearance over and over.  If it does, I didn’t use the buckshot--I just shot a BB and missed.

Don’t cuddle up to a rattlesnake.  Kill the thing, and make sure it’s dead.

Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed. The night is far gone; the day is at hand. So then let us cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light. Let us walk properly as in the daytime, not in orgies and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and sensuality, not in quarreling and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires. Romans 13:11-14

Dene Ward

May I just make a small observation from years of experience on both sides of the equation?  When you are suffering, when you are broken-hearted, when you are in pain and anguish or full of fear, someone who loves you will inevitably make an insensitive comment, a tactless comment, a mind-numbingly stupid comment.  Do you think they do it because they don’t love you any more?  No, just the opposite—they do it because they hate to see you in such pain, because they want more than anything to comfort you, and in that love and zeal they don’t know what to say, so the wrong thing pops out.

I can make you a list of things NOT to say in various circumstances.  Why?  Because I have had them said to me in an assortment of painful circumstances in the past several decades.  You are not the only one who has been left with a hanging jaw and a shaking head.  And second, I can make that list because I have said a few myself.  I have friends who have miscarried, who have lost spouses early, who have lost children to accident or disease, whose marriage has fallen apart, who have been the one to discover a mate’s suicide, who have suffered the pain of a horrible disease and its ultimate end, and probably every time I have said something I wished I hadn’t.  I try to remember those times when someone says something similar to me—they love me as much as I loved my friends or they would never have tried.  They would have simply walked away.

And so I will never make one of those lists that regularly make the rounds—“What Not to Say When…”  In fact, I am getting a little fed up with them.  Those lists seem to imply that the person hearing those words has never said anything dumb themselves, that they would automatically do better.  Pardon my skepticism.  I have known some wise people in my many years, but none of them has ever managed to be perfect in their choice of words every time.  I doubt that anyone in their twenties or thirties or even forties has either.  Should we be willing to learn better?  Yes.  But most of what I have heard has come in a scathing, sarcastic tone meant more to lash out than help someone else learn.

God expects me to act like a Christian no matter what I am going through.  Did Jesus bark at His disciples the night before His death, a death He knew would be so horrible that He “sweat drops as blood”?  Did He browbeat the women weeping before the cross while He hung there in agony?  If anyone could have been excused for snapping back, it would have been Him, but the example He left was one of grace under pressure. 

As His disciple I must still be longsuffering, no matter what I am going through.  I must “forbear in love.”  I must “bear all things, believe all things, and hope all things.”  Certainly I must be willing to say, “Father forgive them for they know not what they do,” if the thing they do comes out of a heart full of love.  It is difficult when, as the Psalmist said, My days pass away like smoke, and my bones burn like a furnace. My heart is struck down like grass and has withered; I forget to eat my bread. Because of my loud groaning my bones cling to my flesh. I am like a desert owl of the wilderness, like an owl of the waste places; I lie awake; I am like a lonely sparrow on the housetop, (102:3-7).  I have been there.  On those days, it is difficult to put up with other people’s blunders.  It is, in fact, difficult to deal with people at all.  I am ashamed of my failures and so grateful to my caring friends and family who still showed me their love, even when I didn’t show mine and probably made them wonder why they kept bothering to try.  But I am not going to excuse myself because of my despair by attacking them with a scornful list of their failures.

God does not put in an exception clause for when we are hurting.  Like His Son, we must still exercise self-control and love, graciously accepting the comfort that those who care sometimes ham-handedly give.  Even afflictions that have nothing to do with suffering for His name can test us as much as persecution can, just in how we handle them.  Isn’t that, in fact, the real test?  Pain is never an excuse for sin.

For hereunto were you called: because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow his steps: who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth: who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered threatened not; but committed himself to him that judges righteously: 1 Peter 2:21-23.

Dene Ward

“Mommy, those green blackberries burnt my mouth.”

We were picking peas in a field behind a member’s farmhouse late one afternoon.  We had just moved to the area and had not had time to plant our own garden, so we were happy to do all the free U-picks our brethren offered.  Nathan, who was only 13 months old, was playing up at the house under the watchful care of the grandmotherly farmwife.  Three year old Lucas wanted to come “help,” so he trailed along behind us, picking a pea pod every so often, but usually exploring.

It took a minute for what he had said to register.  Then, with a knot of fear growing in my stomach, I calmly asked, “What blackberries?  Show me.” 

He led us back about twenty feet, to a place in the fencerow.  Instead of blackberry vines, we saw a four foot high green plant, with spade-shaped leaves and round green berries—nightshade.  We dropped our buckets, pulled the plant, scooped him up, and headed for the nearest emergency room, thirty miles east.  As soon as we arrived, Keith dropped me at the door.  I ran in and practically threw both Lucas and the plant on the registration desk. 

“My baby ate this,” I managed between gasps.

I had found the trick to immediate action in an emergency room.  They ran both him and the plant back behind the swinging doors.  I, of course, was taken to Paperwork Central—they never forget the documentation so they will be paid.  It probably did not help that I had come straight from the field, sweat, dirt, and all, and so did not look particularly solvent.

Two hours later we left with a completely sobered three- year-old, promising us he would never eat green blackberries again.  As far as I know, he hasn’t!

So why are we so much less careful about the poison that sickens our souls?  Spiritual nightshade surrounds us every day of our lives.  Somehow we think we are immune to its effects.  We go places we should not, associate with people we should not, dally with things that are as dangerous as a poisonous snake, and pooh-pooh anyone who dares tell us to be careful.

I am not just talking about things like alcohol and sexual immorality.  Do you realize that wealth in the scriptures is never pictured as anything but dangerous to our souls?  But what do we wish for when the subject of wishes comes up?  And what do we always say?  “I could handle it.  I would never use it the wrong way.  It would never get the best of me.”  What do we tell our young people when they say the same things about drugs and alcohol? 

Arrogance will always get the best of us in all these cases.  Might as well handle a cobra.  Might as well drink some cyanide. 

Might as well eat a pie made of green blackberries.

For [the] rock [of the wicked] is not as our Rock...For their vine is of the vine of Sodom, and of the fields of Gomorrah; their grapes are grapes of gall, their clusters are bitter.  Their wine is the poison of serpents and the cruel venom of asps, Deut 32:31-33.

Dene Ward

Today’s post is by guest writer, Keith Ward.

What could Cain have been thinking?  Why kill Abel?  Detectives look for motives and usually trace them to money or sex.  The record shows that neither played a role in the first murder.

Both Cain and Abel brought offerings to God.  God respected Abel’s offering but not Cain’s.  Cain was upset and depressed over this and God said, “Why are you angry and why is your countenance [face] fallen?  If thou doest well, shall it not be lifted up?” (Gen 4:6-7).  From this we can infer at least two things: first, Cain had a great desire for God’s approval and second, God had told Cain and Abel what to do.  Even a human father would not tell his son, “If you do right, I will reward you,” unless the son had been told what the right way was! Thus, Abel offered in the way God describes as “doing well,” but Cain offered in another way and was rejected.

Though he was unwilling to do things God’s way, Cain still wanted God’s approval.  As there were only two of that generation in the world, it must have appeared to Cain that if Abel were taken out of the picture, God would have no other choice but to accept him.  Besides, no man likes to be upstaged by his little brother.  In his wrath over being rejected and in his desire to be approved by God, Cain slew Abel.  It seems so tragic--how much simpler to just do things God’s way and live in peace.

Following God’s rules is called “walking by faith” (2 Cor 5:7; Heb 11).  Today, many people still seek to gain God’s approval without the sacrifices involved in walking God’s narrow way. They look just fine to themselves and to each other; they may even congratulate themselves on being “better than average.” They are religious and sincere.  What more could anyone ask? Usually, they are even admired by the “average” folks.

Then appears a righteous man who obeys God’s word exactly from a sincere heart.  As a result, like Cain’s, others’ offerings are exposed as inadequate.  If Abel could do it right, Cain could have also.  If a man can live “holily and righteously,” walking by faith in all the ways of God, then so could these “religious” men.  All too often they go the way of Cain and kill the righteous – by slander, by persecutions, by mockery, by ostracism.  Why not repent and follow the example of the “Abel?”  Because “their works are evil;” they are set in their hearts to do things their own way. The Cains see the Abels as an accusation against their religion, label them “narrow,” “bigoted,” “judgmental,” “legalistic,” and thus they seek to justify themselves.

Researching Bible history appears to establish that everyone is a Cain or an Abel.  Not everyone actually murders an Abel, some “just” applaud, or stand by indifferently.  Insofar as meeting God’s standard is concerned, being an Abel is not so difficult, but it takes much courage—there are a lot of Cains in the world….and many that are innocently called, “brother.”

By faith Abel offered to God a more acceptable sacrifice than Cain, through which he was commended as righteous, God commending him by accepting his gifts. And through his faith, though he died, he still speaks. Hebrews 11:4

Keith Ward

I wonder how many of us are so enamored by what we consider a “beautiful” love story, that we miss an even better one.  It really should tell us something when we read that Jacob loved Rachel because of her looks.  Since when do we teach our children that outer beauty is all that matters?             

After the marriages, Leah had children almost immediately.  Rachel, of course, wanted children too.  Her first resort was to demand them of Jacob, Give me children or else I die!  Gen 30:1, as if a man who had already fathered at least four were at fault.  Am I being overly critical or doesn’t she sound as childish as a little girl threatening to hold her breath if she doesn’t get her way?

Then she gave her handmaid to her husband (v, 3) for in that culture, the children of one’s handmaid were legally your own, and the family already had precedent for such a thing in Hagar.  Of course that was less than satisfying, especially since her sister could do the same. 

Then she resorted to mandrakes, the local aphrodisiac of the area, v 14, not too surprising from a woman who would steal her father’s household gods, I suppose.  As you go through chapter 30, pay special attention to the names of the children, what they mean, and what each mother said when they were born.  That speaks volumes in itself. 

Finally Rachel went to Jehovah.  We really have no record of her doing that, but let’s give her the benefit of the doubt since the scriptures do say and God hearkened to [Rachel] and opened her womb, v 22.  Still, her attitude is shown when she greets that child with Jehovah, give me another one! and names her son that very sentiment, “Joseph,” may God add, v 24.  Compare that to Leah who, when she named Judah, and called to her son every day afterward, was “praising” Jehovah.

Is that how we treat prayer as well, a last resort?  Does God only hear from us when we get desperate or scared or so distressed that we finally realize we have no other hope for a happy ending?   Do we demand help from God, then angrily complain when that prayer, which may be the first we have prayed in a week or a month or even longer, does not accomplish what we want?  And when we finally do get the desired answer, do we act entitled and fail to express any gratitude at all?  After all, we serve God and therefore He is supposed to take care of us, right?  If we don’t get what we want, why should we bother?

Ultimately, Jacob seems to have learned who the better wife was.  When Rachel died, she was buried where she fell, even though it was only a day’s walk from the family burial plot at Machpelah.  Jacob himself expected his sons to carry his body back all the way from Egypt.  And hear what he says about that:  there they buried Abraham and Sarah his wife, and there they buried Isaac and Rebekah his wife, and there I buried Leah, Gen 49:31.  Jacob wanted to be buried next to Leah, the woman he had chosen to place in the family tomb.  Finally, he could see a beauty that mattered.  I imagine his change of heart had a lot to do with their shared faith in God, and their recognition that He was responsible for every good thing they had.  (Study those names!)  And didn’t God choose Leah as well?  For it is evident that our Lord has sprung out of Judah, Heb 7:14, who was Leah’s son.

God will notice our faith, our desire to talk with Him, our recognition of His providence and care.  Prayer is not about entitlement, but gratitude. 

Oh give thanks unto Jehovah, for his lovingkindness endures forever.
Oh give thanks unto the God of gods, for his lovingkindness endures forever.
Oh give thanks unto the Lord of lords, for his lovingkindness endures forever.
Psalm 136:1-3

Dene Ward