Flight Paths

Our piece of property was once a watermelon field on the back side of a family farm, approached by a dirt lane a half mile long.  When we first saw it, the ground was furrowed under the waist high grass and weeds, and a pushed up wind row ran down the length of it parallel to the north property line.  A few volunteer vines wound their way through the weeds, laden with green-striped melons, most of them too small to even consider picking.  What the land had once been was obvious.

It had served other purposes as well.  After we moved onto the property, the power company sent a crew to plant the poles and string the wires that would connect us to the outside world.  One of the young men looked around and said, “I know this place.  I went to school with one of the boys and we’d come back here to hunt rat----.”  Instantly he stopped and muttered, “Well—you don’t need to know that.”  But within a week we knew exactly what he had started to say as the evidence began to pile up.  That first summer we killed four rattlesnakes, the smallest of which was four feet long, two cottonmouths, and several coral snakes.

The snake population has dwindled after all these years, and the only volunteer melons come up in the garden now.  But there is still more evidence of the property’s past. 

When we moved here, our closest neighbor advised us to have the wind row scraped into a raised road so we would always have access, even in wet weather, very good advice as it turned out.  What the tractor left behind was a high, compact, dirt driveway, but it was littered with broken glass.  Someone had tossed quite a few beer bottles into the wind row--those boys were obviously doing more than hunting rattlesnakes on the back forty all those years ago.  That first summer we gave our boys, who were then 6 and 8, a nickel for every piece of glass they picked up, and it was soon safe to drive and walk on.

Yet now, twenty-seven years later, as I walk down the drive with the morning sun shining on the sandy road, I still see it glinting off tiny pieces of glass.  The sand they have been buried in has worn off their sharp edges making them far too smooth to endanger either tires or bare feet.  I usually pick up a couple dozen every summer.  Then the next year, yet more will have worked their way to the top from the simple erosion of wind and rain.

What is hidden beneath will always come out.  No matter how hard you try to hide the ugliness, something will always give it away.  “By their fruits you shall know them,” Jesus said, and, “Out of the heart the mouth speaks,” Matt 7:20; Luke 6:45.  When we try to hide our character flaws from others, the only person we really manage to hide them from is ourselves.

God will help you overcome the weaknesses that beset you, but he cannot do it until you admit them to yourself, and then to him.  Blaming others, blaming circumstances, blaming “the way I am” will never fix things, any more than me blaming those teenage boys for throwing their beer bottles got rid of the glass in my driveway.  But God can help you mend your heart and correct your ways.  He promises he will always supply a way of escape and strength to endure the times of stress and the simple erosion of life that make those ugly things rise to the surface.

Every year I see those sparkly pieces of glass in the driveway, but their edges have worn smooth and they are no longer a danger.  God can help the same way.  You may feel something inside begin to rise to the surface, but with his help you can keep it under control so that it no longer hurts you or others.  In your surrender to him, the strength you have will multiply beyond anything you have ever experienced, or could ever have imagined.

Little children, you are from God and have overcome them, for he who is in you is greater than he who is in the world.  I John 4:4.

Dene Ward

I have been teaching Bible classes since I was sixteen, to literally hundreds of women and children in over a dozen different locations, in several different venues.  Sometimes I wish I could go back and apologize to those early classes.  Experience has taught me so much.  This particular experience has probably happened to every teacher everywhere, probably more than once.

A sensitive topic was on the agenda so I approached it with more than a little trepidation and a lot of prayer.  What I was about to tell them is no longer popular in the world.  I had prepared myself for possible objections, and steeled myself to stay calm and give thoughtful answers in a calm voice.  Oddly enough, when you defend the word of God, it should never sound “defensive.”

A few weeks later, one of the young women wrote me a note.  She told me she had not agreed with everything I said, but that she had learned things she never knew before that would affect her views from then on.  She said she was likely to change her mind on some as she considered the things I had presented.  She thanked me for the time and effort I had taken to teach that study.  I still have that note, and always will.

Contrast this to another young woman who, as the subject was presented, began to seethe.  She compressed her lips into a thin line and narrowed her eyes in contempt.  As soon as I took a breath, she raised her voice, and accused me of judging her personally.  She told me I was wrong in a tone of voice I would not have used on an enemy.  Then she folded her arms, sat as crossways as she could away from my general direction, and lifted her chin defiantly.  I doubt she heard anything else I had to say.

It was an important topic that should not be avoided, and really, to be responsible before God as a teacher of His word, I could not have avoided it.  No names were mentioned.  I knew no one’s personal history.  I carefully said at the beginning, “I am not aiming this at anyone here because I do not know you that well.”  By her own actions, this person identified herself to all as one who had the problem, and by her own actions she told me that she would not even consider that she might be wrong.  

I have far more confidence in the first woman’s continuing faith than the second.  I only hope that by making such a big deal out of it herself, that the latter will remember it and perhaps reconsider in spite of herself.  Her problem, you see, was pride.  She wasn’t wrong simply because she couldn’t be wrong.

But he gives more grace.  Therefore it says, “God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble,” James 4:6.  That word “resist” is a military term.  It means “to range in battle against,” according to W. E. Vine.  It means you are going to war against God.

Matthew Henry says it like this:  “In his understanding [the proud man] resists the truth of God; in his will, he resists the law of God, in his passions, he resists the providence of God.”  How many other ways can God reach us?  If we resist all these things because of pride, we will never find his grace.

I found so many passages where God talks about destroying the proud that I lost count.  Sometimes it was individuals.  Sometimes it was a small group like the church at Corinth.  Sometimes it was the general personality of a nation, like Edom and Moab.  People who are proud will never find God, because they will never admit their need for Him.

It can all be seen in something as small as a Bible study.  That first listener is far more likely to experience the grace of God.  She is open-minded and willing to listen, and most of all, she is willing to consider that she might possibly be wrong about something.  Peter refers to the same scripture as James in 1 Pet 5:5,6.  Notice, however, the context of this reference. 

Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elder. Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble." Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you.

Though he begins by speaking about the elders in particular (5:1-3), he gradually moves on to the more general “older” and “younger.”  As with the constant urging in the book of Proverbs from which the original passage comes (3:34), he expects us to learn from those who are older, who have more knowledge, and more experience.  Perhaps they are wrong, but if we instantly dismiss them because they disagree with us, how can we ever hope to find out?  It all reminds me of children who look at a new dish and say, “I don’t like that,” when they have never even tasted it.  Childish, indeed, and so are we when we are too proud to listen and study because, “I’ve never heard that before, so it can’t be right.”

Is anything worth missing out on the grace of God?  When it is asking too much of us to say, “I was wrong about that,” or even, “I might be wrong about that,” it will be asking too much of God to say, “Enter in…”

Talk no more so very proudly, let not arrogance come from your mouth; for the LORD is a God of knowledge, and by him actions are weighed. 1 Sam 2:3.

Dene Ward

It seems that more and more I hear people blame God for all their ills, even people who claim to be Christians.  I think the first time this really struck home was a day many years go when I was passing out gospel meeting invitations to neighbors.  I met a woman a half mile down the road from where I lived then who could hardly get past hello before she was telling me how God had let her down.  She had prayed and prayed for her father’s health, but “God let him die anyway.”  Now what do I say?  I tried to sound sympathetic and asked how old he had been. 

“Eighty-six,” she said.  I did my best not to look stunned.  Eighty-six is certainly not an early death.  I wondered what age would have suited her, or did she just expect God to allow him to live forever?  The thing is, she made the same mistake everyone does.  We do not die because of God.  We die because of Satan and sin, and the fact that we all partake in that sin.  Therefore as through one man sin entered into the world, and death through sin, and so death passed unto all men for that all sinned. Rom 5:12

But babies do not sin, some will say.  No, but they live in a world dominated by it, and so the innocent also suffer.  But to even ask the question is still to miss the point.  As Jeremiah said, even standing in the midst of destruction, It is because of Jehovah’s loivingkindnesses that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not, Lam 3:22.

If not for God there would be nothing good in this world at all.  There would be thorns, but no beautiful roses attached; there would be stingers, but no sweet honey made by the bee.  Without God this world would be a horrible, dark, desperate, heartrending, agonizing place—a true Hell on earth.

Everyone dies, but it isn’t God’s fault.  Everyone has illness, pain and suffering of some kind, but God didn’t cause it.  To blame Him is to place ourselves with Adam, who, instead of confessing, instantly turned and blamed the woman, who then instantly turned and blamed the serpent.  God did not cause their expulsion from the garden any more than He caused the disease I have.  Satan did.

Are you reasonably well this morning?  Can you still get around?  Do you have a faithful spouse?  Do you have healthy children? Do you have children who are faithful Christians and have raised even more faithful Christians?  Do you have faithful brethren?  Do you have a roof over your head?  Are you worried about eating too much, instead of having anything to eat at all?  Do you have the hope of Heaven?  Maybe you could not say yes to all those questions, but for anything you did say yes to, God is the reason.  Blame Him for those things.

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom can be no variation, neither shadow that is cast by turning, James 1:17

Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

2 Kings 6:1-7 tells an odd little story. The sons of the prophets, who were apparently disciples of Elisha, needed a new place to live so they went to the Jordan River to cut down some trees to use in building a new house. While they were doing this, one of them lost the axe head from his axe. It just flew off the handle and landed in the river, sinking to the bottom.

The man was distraught because he had borrowed it. Unlike today, he couldn’t just run up to Lowe’s, and axe heads were expensive. Each was handmade by a blacksmith from iron dug up by hand by miners. This man was unable to purchase his own and had borrowed one. Since he had lost it, he was responsible for replacing it. It would have been a major hardship—preachers didn’t make much, even back then. Elisha asked him where exactly it had sunk, and then he "made the iron to swim." The axe head floated to the surface and the man waded out and scooped it up.
Why is this story included in the Bible? This man's personal salvation was not affected in one way or another by the loss or recovery of the axe head. The story doesn't really illustrate any great doctrine. The plan of salvation isn't furthered and it doesn't affect the history of the physical nation of Israel. With all of the stories we might wish were included in the Bible that aren't, why is this one here?  Possibly because it is the perfect illustration of Mt. 10:29-31 "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them shall fall on the ground without your Father; but the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore, you are of more value than many sparrows."

God cares for us. Even in the small everyday happenings in this world that don't really have anything to do with our eternal fate, God cares for us. If he even knows how many hairs I have on my head (daily an easier count for him), then surely he knows that I need to pay my bills, that I need to eat occasionally. Mt. 6:25-34 tells us not to worry because God will look out for us. He feeds the birds and clothes the grass and so surely he will feed and clothe us.
God cared about this man who lost an axe head. God found the axe head for him. Why? Because he cares for his people.  Sometimes He will allow us to go through trials and tests because those build up our patience and faith and will make us better servants for Him in the long run, but even then He never gives us a test stronger than we can bear. God cares about the little things in our lives, even things as insignificant as misplaced tools. He really is on our side and watches out for us. If that doesn't make you feel better as you face your day, then nothing can.

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:6-7

Lucas Ward

I just figured it up and the load of clothes bouncing and clicking around in my dryer right now is about number 16,000.  That is only a family of four, and only two for the last several years.  Some of you may have done two or three times that amount.

Depending upon our lifestyles, we all become adept at removing certain stains.  In my case they are crankcase oil, garden dirt, blueberries, grapes, and tomato sauce.  Some of the stains are seasonal, such as the cranberry sauce that inevitably stains my lace tablecloth in November.  Sometimes it’s something you never really expected, like the time Lucas had to move a fifty pound wheel of red, wax-coated cheese and the only way to get a good hold of it was to hug it to his chest.  He came home in a white shirt streaked with red dye.  Yes, I got it out, but it took three tries.

We all use different remedies:  ammonia, dish detergent, alcohol, stain remover, bleach—depending upon the stain and the fabric.  But sometimes even the best laundresses shake out the wet laundry expecting clean results, only to find a faint shadow of the stain still on the cloth.  I don’t know about you, but if I can tell where the stain used to be, I didn’t do a good enough job.

God has a stain remover, too.  What is so absolutely amazing is that his cleaning fluid ought to cause stains of its own.  He uses blood!  But that blood washes us clean, leaving no mark whatsoever.  His forgiveness is so complete that we can never tell where the sin used to be.  Unless, of course, we spill that cranberry sauce yet again.  Then when we approach his mercy seat and he once again sprinkles that precious blood, there we are—spotless before our Father, and only because of our Savior’s personal cleansing agent.

So how many loads have you done—how many loads of laundry and how many loads of sin?  Every time you put in yet another load of clothes, put a load in God’s laundry too.  If you aren’t the launderer in your home, think about it when you shed those dirty clothes.  They may not seem all that dirty, especially if you sit behind a desk all day, but take a look at the collar, guys.  Then think about what our God does for you as well.

…These are they who came out of the great tribulation, and they washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Rev 7:14

Come now and let us reason together, says the Lord.  Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool,  Isa 1:18

Dene Ward

We raised pigs when the boys were growing up.  A pig a year in the freezer went a long way toward making our grocery bill manageable, everything from bacon and sausage in the morning to chops and steaks on the supper table, ribs on the grill, and roasts and hams on our holiday table.  The first time the butcher sent the head home in a clear plastic bag and I opened the freezer to find it staring at me nearly undid me though.  After that Keith made sure to tell them to “keep the head.”

We bought our pigs from a farmer when they were no more than 30 pounds.  That created a problem that usually the boys and I were the only ones home to deal with.  Once the pigs were over 100 pounds they could no longer root their way under the pen, but those young ones did it with regularity, especially the first week or so when they had not yet learned this was their new home and they could count on being fed.  More than one morning I went out to feed them and found the pen empty, spending the remainder of my morning looking for the pig out in the woods.

One Wednesday evening when Keith had to work, the boys and I stepped outside to load us and our books into the car for the thirty mile trip to Bible study, only to see the young pig, probably 40 pounds by that time, rooting in the flower beds.  We spent the next forty-five minutes chasing it.  You would think three smart people, two of them young and agile and me not exactly decrepit in those earlier days, could corner a pig and herd him back to the pen.  No, that pig gave chase any time any one of us got within twenty feet of him, and they are much faster than they look.

You see things in cartoons and laugh at the pratfalls exactly as the cartoonist wanted you to, knowing in your mind that such things never could happen.  When you chase a pig you find out otherwise. 

Once we did manage to corner the thing between a fencepost and a ditch and Lucas, who was about 12, leapt for him with his arms outstretched.  Somehow that pig managed to move and Lucas landed flat on the ground on his stomach while the pig ended up trotting past all of us on his merry way, wagging his head in what looked like amusement.

Another time Lucas actually got his arms around the pig’s stomach, but even an un-greased pig is a slippery creature.  Nathan and I never had a chance to grab on ourselves before it was loose again and off we all ran around the property for the umpteenth time, dressed for Bible study by the way, which made the sight much more ridiculous, especially my billowing skirt.

We never did catch that pig.  He simply got tired and decided to go back into the pen.  I had opened the gate and as he trotted toward it, we all gratefully jogged behind him, winded and filthy and caring not a hoot that it was his idea instead of ours.  Still, he had to have the last word.  Instead of going through the open gate, at the last minute he ran back to where he had gotten out in the first place and slunk under the rooted out segment of the pen.  Then he turned around and looked at us.  “Heh, heh,” I could almost hear with the look he gave us.  We shut the gate, filled in the hole, loaded up the feed trough, and went inside to clean up, arriving at Bible study thirty minutes late and too exhausted and traumatized to learn much that night.

God is a promise maker.  He has given us so many promises I could never list them all here.  We have a habit of treating those promises like a pig on the loose, like something we can’t really get a good hold of, certainly not a secure one. 

I grew up in a time when it was considered wrong to say, “I know I am going to Heaven.”  Regardless the fact that John plainly said in his first epistle, “These things I have written that you may know you have eternal life,” (5:13), actually saying such a thing would get you a scolding about pride, and a remonstrance like, “Let him who thinks he stands, take heed lest he fall!”  We were too busy fighting false doctrine to lay hold of a hope described as “sure” in Heb 6:19.  

That word is the same one used in Matt 27:64-66.  The priests and Pharisees implored Pilate to make Jesus’ tomb “sure” so his disciples could not steal the body and claim a resurrection.  He told the guards, “Make it as sure as you can.”  Do you think they would have been careless about it?  Do you think there was anything at all uncertain about the seal on that tomb?  Not if you understand the disciplinary habits of the Roman army.  It is not quite as obvious because of the different translation choice, but the Philippian jailor was given the same order, using the same word, when Paul and Silas were put in prison:  “Charging the jailor to keep them safely [sure],” and he was ready to kill himself when he thought they had escaped.

That is how sure our hope is—“an anchor…steadfast and sure.”  It isn’t like a pig we have to chase down.  It isn’t going to slip through our fingers if we don’t want it to.  Paul told the Thessalonians that “sure” hope would comfort them, 2 Thes 2:16.  How comforting is it to be fretting all the time about whether or not you’re going to Heaven?  How reassuring is it to picture God as someone who sits up there waiting for you to slip so He can say, “Gotcha!”  That is how we treat Him when we talk about our hope as anything less than certain.

I never knew what to expect when I stepped out of my door the first few weeks with every new piglet.  If we hadn’t needed it, I would not have put myself through the anxiety and the ordeal.  Why in the world would anyone think that God wants us to feel that way about our salvation?

…in hope of eternal life, which God, who cannot lie, promised before times eternal, Titus 1:2.

Dene Ward           

As glad as I am that we no longer seem afraid to talk about the Holy Spirit in our lives these days, I am hearing other things that disturb me, disparaging comments about the Word:  “I know it can’t be just the word of God doing this” paraphrases some of the statements I am hearing.  Praise God that his Holy Spirit works in our lives, but do not treat any less respectfully one of his biggest feats:  translating the mind of God into words so that we mortals can comprehend what He has done for us and what He wants from us, 1 Cor 2:6-12.

Paul calls the gospel the power of God unto salvation, Rom 1:16, and an angel told Cornelius to send for Peter who would tell him words whereby you shall be saved, Acts 11:14.  Peter tells us himself that God’s word contains all things pertaining to life and godliness, 2 Pet 1:3, and the Hebrew writer tells us the word of God is living and active, and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing even to the dividing of soul and spirit, of both joints and marrow, and quick to discern the thoughts and intents of the heart, 4:11.  What can God not accomplish with a Word like this?

God told Jeremiah, Is not my word like fire…and like a hammer that breaks the rock in pieces, 23:29.  Have you ever seen the devastation that fire can cause?  Can you imagine anything more effective at changing the face of a wall than continually pounding it with a hammer?

In Isaiah we learn how God’s word acts on both the good and evil.  For those who seek knowledge and understanding, it is precept upon precept, line upon line, line upon line, here a little, there a little, 28:9,10.  And to those of strange lips, the word of Jehovah be unto them precept upon precept, line upon line, line upon line, here a little, there a little, that they may go and fall backward and be broken and snared and taken, vv 11-13.  In other words, it acts the same way on all of us, but the results depend upon the heart who hears it. 

And so it is.  After Peter preached on the day of Pentecost, they were pricked in their hearts, Acts 2:37, and those who received the word were baptized, v 41.  After Stephen preached the crowd was cut to the heart, Acts 7:54, and they stoned him to death, v 58.  The same knowledge of God’s word that saves some brings death to others, 2 Cor 2:14-17.  But either way, it is the Word that causes the result.

God said the world would call it foolishness to try to save through preaching, 1 Cor 1:21.  Aren’t we guilty of the same thing when we devalue the power of God’s word?  Jesus was constantly quoting scripture, and in doing so He strengthened himself, defeated Satan, and saved the lost.  We should be following in His footsteps, treating God’s word with all the deference and respect it deserves, because it is truly the power of God. 

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, says Jehovah.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.  For as the rain comes down and the snow from heaven, and returns not. but waters the earth, and makes it bring forth and bud, and gives seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes forth out of my mouth:  it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it.  Isa 55:8-11

Dene Ward

Actually, this should probably be Conducting 101, but let’s stretch a point this morning.  Meanwhile you are sitting there wondering what in the world an ictus is and why you should care.

The ictus is the point in the conductor’s pattern where the actual beat occurs.  If you are tapping your toes to the music, the ictus occurs when your foot hits the ground.

My conducting professor would have a cow if he saw most of the conducting patterns we see on Sunday mornings.  Not because they are “incorrect,” but because the ictus usually occurs up around the song leader’s ear, when it should be at his waist.  But few of my brethren are professional musicians, so who cares where the ictus is, as long as there is one? 

That ictus, that stable underlying pulse, must be visible and steady so that we know when to sing.  What drives me crazy is when a leader just waves his arm on each word, rather than each beat, and expects us to read his mind about when the next one is coming.  Give me an ictus!  Even if you begin an accelerando (gradually speeding up) or a ritardando (gradually slowing down), we can still anticipate when a beat is coming and stay together as long as there is an ictus in your pattern.  If you’re just beating words instead of beats, who knows when it will come?

Of course, the group has to be watching the leader for any of it to work at all.  Funny how the ones who recite, “Let all things be done decently and in order,” will sing what they want when they want, regardless what the leader is doing, and do it loudly enough that they take half the congregation with them.  But don’t get me started…

God is the ictus in a Christian’s life.  [The Lord] is the stability in your times, Isaiah said, 33:6.  That word is the same word translated “faithfulness” in many other passages.  God’s faithfulness endures forever, Psa 117:2.

Interestingly enough, it is also the word “steady” in Ex 17:12.  Moses lifted up his hands as the people fought the Amalekites, but as his strength failed and they sagged, Aaron and Hur sat him on a rock and held his hands “steady” for him until the battle was over.  God holds his hands steadily on high as we fight our battles.  That is how we defeat Satan and overcome sin.  It’s how we handle trials and tribulations—with the steady helping hand of a God who never wavers. 

Even if you aren’t a trained musician you can feel the beat.  That’s why your toes tap and your hands clap.  It’s why your head bounces when you hear a tune you enjoy, but none of it matters if you aren’t watching the leader.

God doesn’t leave you wondering when the next beat will come.  Look for the ictus as He leads you.  Sometimes it may slow as the toils of life bog you down, but it will not leave you behind fending for yourself.  Sometimes it may speed up as you run from the Enemy, but it is always there for the ones who care to watch and be led. 

I often listen to music when I exercise.  I find I can go longer and do more than just counting repetitions.  If you are in a particularly difficult time of life, let God’s ictus help you put one step in front of the other, again and again and again, until you have finally reached the end of the trial.  Let it help you keep moving until you achieve the final goal.  God’s steady, stable, faithful hand will lead you on, until you sing that final triumphant note in the song of life.

 I will sing of the steadfast love of the LORD, forever; with my mouth I will make known your faithfulness to all generations. For I said, "Steadfast love will be built up forever; in the heavens you will establish your faithfulness." Psa 89:1-2.

Dene Ward

All summer I had been watching those monarch butterflies flit over my flower beds. Every couple of days I carefully checked the herb garden twenty feet away for signs of their caterpillars.  That’s what I read somewhere—that monarch butterfly caterpillars are the dreaded parsley worms that can wreak havoc on that herb almost overnight.  Nothing happened.  My parsley grew well and was never infested.  Somehow I got off easy this year.  I thought.

Then in mid-October we went away for a week.  We returned on a Friday night, after dark, too late to see much but the back porch by the light hanging outside the back door.  The next morning we stepped out for a stroll and saw what had happened.  Every sprig of parsley was completely bare, only the bright green stems sticking up completely naked—except here and there for the bright green worm still clinging to the bush it had just decimated.  I am not so paranoid as to think that somehow they all got together and planned the attack for while we were away, but it was certainly suspicious.

Satan, on the other hand, is perfectly capable of planning his attacks that way.  He waits until we are most vulnerable.  He waits until we have experienced a crisis in our lives, until we are frustrated by circumstances, until our defenses are down, and then he zooms in for the kill.  Being on the alert when you are tired and hurt is not easy, but that is exactly what we must do, standing guard as a soldier in the Lord’s army. 

One of the greatest benefits of being in the family of God is having people who care enough to watch your back.  All of us should be aware of the crises in our brothers and sisters’ lives.  Too often we are so consumed with our own affairs that we don’t have time to watch out for others, and that means we are too consumed, period.  Then we wonder how a brother could fall so far, why a sister was caught up in such a sin, why a family has “suddenly” disappeared from among us.  How in the world could those things have happened?  They happened in part because everyone was too busy to notice.

What do you do when announcements are made in the assembly?  Is that when you spend your time arranging your books, glasses, and children on the pew, the time you flip to the first song and look through it, the time you know you can spend a little longer in the ladies’ room before you need to be seated?  Those announcements should be your greatest tool the next week as you figure out what you need to do for whom, how you can encourage a brother or sister in distress, what you might say to one whose soul is in danger.  How much do you hear when you are finishing up a conversation that has no bearing on a soul, or racing to your pew before the first song begins?  Those pieces of news are about service, and that is the most important part of a Christian’s life, considering one another…Heb 10:24.

Be aware of the timing in the lives of others too.  Is it the first anniversary of a widow’s loss?  Is it a season that makes being alone that much harder for the single?  Are ordeals approaching in people’s lives that might make them more prone to Satan’s attacks?  We have a job to do; we have service to offer; we have comfort to give and sometimes exhortation and rebuke when we see those attacks making progress in the lives of another.

If we see them.  If we care.  If we aren’t so wrapped up in ourselves that we miss the attacks and wake up one morning to an almost overnight slaughter in the garden of God.

Wherefore lift up the hands that hang down, and the palsied knees; and make straight paths for your feet, that that which is lame be not turned out of the way, but rather be healed, Hebrews 12:12-13.

Dene Ward

I wonder if it means as much to us.  I wonder if it would have even gotten our attention.  We take so much for granted, so many things people have not always had access to, things they would marvel at were they alive today. 

Noon on a hot, dusty day saw a thirsty man sitting by a well after a long walk.  A woman trudged up, not during the normal hours of drawing water; a woman, we would later discover, who was on the fringes of her society, a society that was on the fringes itself, especially to people like this man, who sat where she had hoped to find no one.      To her utter amazement, he asked her for a drink.  It was not just that she was from a hated caste, but she was a woman, and men seldom talked to women in public, especially not one with her background.  And not only that, but he offered her something wonderful--she would never have to come draw water from this well again.  She was so excited she ran to tell the others in the town, even the ones who before would not speak to her because of her questionable morals. 

He stayed for two days, teaching about this miraculous water, water they eventually realized was not wet or even real, as the world counts reality, but far more real in the dawning light of a spiritual kingdom that would accept them all, not just those other people who hated them.  Soon, everyone would have this living water available, and no one in that kingdom would be considered “second class.”

I wonder if Jesus would have gotten my attention with this talk?  I don’t have to draw water from a well in the heat of the day—enough water to clean, bathe, cook, and stay alive.  But one day, 30 years ago, that little story meant a whole lot more to me than it ever had before.

We came home from a trip to discover that our well had collapsed.  We did not have the several hundred dollars it would have cost at the time to fix it.  Keith had to dig a new well himself.  For a month, every night after he finished the studying and home classes he conducted as a preacher, he worked on that well, even in the cold January rain, even running a fever. 

A farmer neighbor filled and carted a five hundred gallon tank outside our door.  That tank had held things not good for human consumption, so we used that water to carry in five gallon buckets for flushes, and pressure canners full for bathing.  Every morning I went to another neighbor’s house to fill up gallon jugs for the water we used to brush teeth, make tea and coffee, and wash dishes.  The boys were 5 and 3, way too little to help cart water.  I learned the value of carrying a bucket in each hand—balance was everything if you wanted to slosh as little as possible all over your carpets.

We learned to conserve water without even thinking about it—no more water running in the lavatory while brushing teeth, shaving, or putting in contact lenses!  Suddenly, carrying water was a time-consuming, back-breaking job. Modern homes are simply not geared to anything but running water.  It would have been much simpler to have had an outhouse in the backyard, and a pump handle in the kitchen.  The amount of water that needed hauling would have been cut in half.

And after a month of that, I understood what this woman must have thought, what a luxury the concept must have seemed to her hot, weary body.  Do we feel that way about “living water?”  Is salvation such a luxury that we marvel at it and run to tell others?  Or do we take it for granted like running water in our kitchens and bathrooms?  I would not wish the month we endured on anyone else, but you know what?  I think it was good for all of us.

Therefore with joy shall we draw water out of the wells of salvation.  And in that day shall you say, Give thanks unto Jehovah, call upon his name, declare his doings among the peoples, make mention that his name is exalted, Isaiah 12:3,4      

Dene Ward