Flight Paths

Men and women are at their noblest and best when they are on their knees before God in prayer.  To pray is not only to be truly godly; it is also to be truly human.  For here are human beings, made by God, like God and for God, spending time in fellowship with God.  So prayer is an authentic activity in itself, irrespective of any benefits it may bring us.  Yet it is also one of the most effective of all means of grace.  I doubt if anybody has ever become at all Christlike who has not been diligent in prayer. 

John Stott, Authentic Christianity

If you are from north of the Mason-Dixon line, please don’t turn the page!  I have converted not only several children, but several Northerners to this Southern delicacy.  It’s all about taking the problems and turning them to your advantage--and being patient.
            The problem with okra, if you’ll pardon the expression, is the slime.  One reason it was used in gumbos was its thickening power, which is a nicer way of referring to that viscous property.  My family just calls it what it is.  It doesn’t bother them because they know what I can do with that--stuff.
            Follow these directions closely.  Use a colander, not a bowl, when you slice it.  You will still get the goo on your knife and a little on your hands—my method won’t fix that—but it will disappear when you cook it.
            Slice it about a half inch thick, discarding the stem end and the tails.  If it has been in the fridge a few days, it might need a little coaxing to release some of its “juices.”  If so, put that colander in the sink and scatter a few drops of water here and there from a wet hand.  Don’t deluge it.  If it’s already good and gooey, don’t bother.  Sprinkle it with salt, then with flour, not corn meal.  (My mother taught me that and we are both GRITS—Girls Raised in the South.)  Stir it to coat.  Now walk away.  In five minutes come back.  If it’s dry, do the water trick again, just a sprinkle.  Add more salt and more flour and stir it again.  Walk away again.  You may need to do this several times, allowing the excess flour to fall through the holes in the colander into the sink where you can wash it away—loose flour will burn in the bottom of a skillet. 
            After about fifteen minutes and maybe as many as five applications of flour and salt, the flour will have adhered to the “slime” and, magically, the okra will have made its own batter.  It will stick together in clumps like caramel corn, which is exactly what you want.
            Heat a half inch of vegetable oil in a skillet.  Put in one piece of okra and wait till it starts bubbling and sizzling.  Slowly add only as much okra as there is room in the pan.  Since it tends to stick together, you will need to mash it out to spread it around.  Now walk away and leave it again.  No fiddling with it, no turning it, no stirring it. 
            In about ten minutes you will begin to see browning around the edges.  When that happens you can start turning it.  The second side will brown faster, as will the entire second batch.  Watch your oil; you may need to turn it down if the browning begins to happen too quickly.  Drain it on paper towels. 
            You will now have the crunchiest okra you ever ate.  No slime, no weird flavor, nothing but crunch.  You cannot eat this with a fork—it rolls off, or if you try to stab it, it shatters.  This is Southern finger food, a delicacy we eat at least twice every summer before we start pickling it or giving it away.  Too much fried food is not healthy they tell us, but everyone needs a lube job once in awhile.
            The trick to that okra is patiently using the problem itself to overcome it—given enough time, that slime makes a batter that is better than anything you could whip up on your own with half a dozen ingredients.
            Patience is a virtue for Christians too, not just cooks.  How do you make it through suffering?  You patiently endure it (2 Cor 1:6), and you remember its purpose and use it for that purpose.  Patiently enduring suffering will make you a joint-heir with Christ (Rom 8:17,18).  It will make you worthy of the kingdom (2 Thes 1:4,5).  If we suffer with him, we will reign with him (2 Tim 2:12).  Only those who share in his suffering will share in his comfort (2 Cor 1:7). 
            But none if this works if you don’t patiently endure the suffering.  If you give up, you lose.  If you turn against God, he will turn against you.  If you refuse the fellowship of Christ’s suffering, he will refuse you.  We must use that suffering to make ourselves stronger and worthy to be his disciple. Just like I am happy to have a particularly “slimy” bowl of okra to work with, knowing it will produce the crunch I want, the early Christians “rejoiced that they were counted worthy to suffer,” Acts 5:41.  They knew it would make them better disciples of their Lord.  We can understand these things when it comes to something as mundane as fried okra.  Why can’t we recognize it in far more important matters?  We even have a trite axiom about this—when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.  When life gives you trials, make yourself a stronger person.
            After suffering, Peter promises that God will restore, confirm, strengthen and establish us (1 Pet 5:10).  He is talking to those who endure, who use the suffering to their advantage and become better people.  Remind yourself of the promises God gives to those who suffer.  Remind yourself of the rewards.  Remind yourself every day that it’s worth it.  The New Testament writers did, so it is no shame if you do it too.
 
The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs--heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. Rom 8:16-18.
 

So many Marys in the Bible.  If you were not aware, Mary in the New Testament is the Aramaic equivalent of Miriam in the Old.  That might explain why we see the name so often, not only in the gospels, but at least once in the epistles, too (Rom 16:6).  Mary Magdalene, Mary the wife of Cleopas (and mother of James the Less and Joses), and even Jesus' mother herself, were all Galilean women.  (Luke 8 along with a few cross references bear that out.)   Everyone knows Mary of Bethany, who lived a couple miles outside of Jerusalem.  But, though I am sure there were many in the general population, only one Mary who is mentioned in the Bible lived in Jerusalem.  She is John Mark's mother, and a relative of Barnabas, by marriage if not by blood (Col 4:10).
            When [Peter, who had just been released from prison by an angel] realized this, he went to the house of Mary, the mother of John whose other name was Mark, where many were gathered together and were praying (Acts 12:12).
            Unlike many of the women we have been studying, Mary seems to have been well off.  Somehow she is related to Barnabas who we know was wealthy enough to sell some property and donate the proceeds to help feed and house the needy of the newly formed church (Acts 4:36,37).  Mary in turn had a home large enough for many in the church to meet in to pray for Peter after James had been martyred.  The church was no longer 10,000 men strong because it had scattered in Acts 8, but it was undoubtedly still a good sized congregation of God's people.  Her home also seemed to be a short walk from the prison and easy to find, even in the middle of the night.
            The church was not just praying for Peter, I am sure.  If he and James could be swept off the streets at Herod's behest and killed without remorse, any of them could.  They did not even answer the door.  They sent poor little Rhoda to answer a door that seems to have been locked.  After all, wouldn't that seem more normal, for the maid to answer the door?  Perhaps she could even turn away whoever it was without suspicion.  But I am also sure that a group that large could not have assembled without the neighbors knowing something was going on.  What if one of them turned them in?  In fact, that class of people might have been the most likely to have turned them in—Sadducees and priests were the wealthiest class.
            But Mary opens her doors to her brothers and sisters so they will have somewhere relatively private to commune and pray during a terrifying crisis.  Would any of us do that?  Would we have allowed a line of parked cars up and down the street that practically screams, "Here we are!  Come and get us!"  The more I read about these people, the more inadequate I feel.  We need to learn these lessons now, folks.  The world out there is rapidly becoming hostile to Christianity.  We are now the bad guys.  No matter how many good deeds we may do, we will still be turned in, just as some of the people who survived the plague in the second century because of the care of their Christian neighbors turned them in.  But a few did convert.  And that can always be our hope and motivation.
            And that is what the Lord expects of us.  We have had it too easy for too long.  It's time to get tough, to realize what we may soon be up against and to prepare ourselves, and our children!  We will need a Mary, and a Lydia, and a Priscilla, and a Dorcas, and people like those other early Christians who gave it all for the Lord.  Let's hope we are tough enough to do it.
 
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go (Josh 1:9).
 
Dene Ward

On September 9, 1776, The United Colonies became the United States of America, a name adopted by the Second Continental Congress.  That name meant something.  We were no longer the colonies of Great Britain, but individual states bound together into one brand new country.  It still means something to most Americans.  Why else do we constantly hear the chant, "USA! USA! USA!" at the Olympics?  We are proud to be Americans.
            Far more important is the name of God, yet this country, which values its own name so much, thinks less and less of His.
Have you noticed that no one can speak two sentences without taking the name of the Lord in vain?  Even children are uttering a phrase that once was never spoken in polite company, that men begged a lady’s pardon for saying, that television censors bleeped.  When you have an abbreviation for it, it has become entirely too common.  I have a friend who wants to make tee shirts with “omg” under the universal “not allowed” sign of a circle with a slash.  But that three word monstrosity is just the first, and most obvious way to take God’s name in vain.
            Recently, while I was doing some research, I came across a website called Judaism 101.  At the top, the following phrase caught my eye:  Please note that this page contains the name of God.  If you print it out, please treat it with appropriate respect.
            Oh, how we need this lesson today, and I don’t just mean the heathen out there in the world.
            The name of God stands for far more than the name we call Him.  It stands for His essence and nature.  It represents His history and reputation.  And I will sanctify my great Name which has been profaned among the nations, Ezek 36:23.  How would you feel if your “good name,” as we speak of this concept, were thrown around carelessly, used in sarcastic movie or book titles, or joked about?  Yet it goes much farther than that.
            In Judaism, any act that causes God to come into disrespect, or a commandment to be broken, is often referred to as profaning the name of God.  This makes sense when you realize that any good deed we do is spoken of as “sanctifying” or “glorifying” his name.  Even so let your light shine before men; that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven, Matt 5:16.  One is just the opposite of the other, and there you have the second way to profane the Name of God—disobey or cause someone else to disobey Him.
            Number three hits a little closer to home.  The Name of God stands for His Authority.  Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the Name of the Lord, Col 3:17.  If a policeman yells out, “Stop in the name of the law,” he is telling you that the law of the land gives him the authority to stop you, and you had better do it or pay the consequences.  Too many of my brethren are out there pooh-poohing God’s Authority these days, as if “authority” were a bad word.  When you act without God’s authority, you are profaning His Name as surely as if you spoke it in vain.  You have no respect for that Authority, nor, thus, for His Name.
            The website I mentioned listed several things that orthodox Jews will and will not do in reference to the Name of God.  Some of them seem awfully, well, "Pharisaic" comes to mind.  But at least they have the right idea, while we bandy about The Name of God as if it were just any other word, then profane it with careless, or even scornful attitudes, disobey His commands because they don’t suit us, and rationalize our way out of a life of sacrificial service because it’s “too hard” and “makes me feel like a failure.”  Disrespecting the authority of God is one and the same as profaning His Name, and conservative fundamentalists take part in it every day.  Number three is the scary one because it is so easy to fall into and still think you are just fine because you are so prone to shout Amen and Hallelujah.
            God is Holy.  His Name is Holy.  His essence is Holiness.  Since I claim to be His child, anything I say or do that detracts from that Holiness profanes His Name.  It can be a careless phrase.  It can be downright disobedience.  It can be deciding for God what He will and won’t mind.  Meditate on that awhile.  Stand in awe of a God whose Name is so powerful that it created the worlds, and be just a little scared of how you treat it.
 
There is none like you among the gods, O Lord, nor are there any works like yours. All the nations you have made shall come and worship before you, O Lord, and shall glorify your name. For you are great and do wondrous things; you alone are God. Teach me your way, O LORD, that I may walk in your truth; unite my heart to fear your name. I give thanks to you, O Lord my God, with my whole heart, and I will glorify your name forever. Psalms 86:8-12
 
Dene Ward    

Anyone who knows me knows that my favorite television cook is Ina Garten of “The Barefoot Contessa.”  I have saved very few recipes from the Food Channel, but of the few I have, the vast majority is hers. 
            One of my favorites is her “Ultimate Ginger Cookie.”  This is just about my favorite cookie ever, which is saying a lot for a cookie that doesn’t have chocolate in it.  It’s a chewy cookie, something else I like, and I have added my own little twist by rolling the balls of dough in sparkling sugar before baking them.  But what makes it “ultimate?”  Not only does it have powdered ginger in it, but also over half a cup of chopped crystallized ginger.  There is no question what kind of cookie this is—it’s a ginger cookie.
            I have several recipes with that word “ultimate” in the title.  My “Ultimate Chocolate Chip Cookie” is good too.  Not only does it have half again more chocolate chips than the usual recipe, but two kinds, bittersweet and milk chocolate.  My “Ultimate Fudge Brownie” is maximum chocolate with minimal flour.  My “Ultimate Peanut Butter Cookie” has no flour at all—just gobs of peanut butter, eggs, sugar and vanilla.  Do you get the picture?  “Ultimate” in a recipe means “a lot,” “more than usual,” and “well above average.”  “Ultimate” means there is no question what kind of cookie this is.
            I started thinking about the word “Christian” in that context.  Technically speaking, the word means “a disciple of Christ.”  That is not the way we use it today.  “Christian” gets tacked on to anything that is even remotely religious.  People can claim to be Christians just because they believe in a few of the Ten Commandments, which in itself is ironic when you understand the relationship of Christ to the Old Law.  In our culture’s vernacular, Christians do not even have to be members of a church.
            To keep that from rubbing off on us, maybe we should start thinking in terms of recipes.  We should be “Ultimate Christians.”  If we are really followers of Christ, we should be different from those who merely claim the name with a few allusions to prayer and God in their vocabulary.
            Real disciples of Christ, by the definition of the word “disciple,” are trying to be as much like their teacher as possible.  They talk like he does and behave like he does.  They know what commitment means—they serve as he did, sacrifice as he did, and fight the Devil like he did every day of his life.  In fact, they are not afraid to acknowledge the devil as a real and dangerous being (like He did), even when others laugh at them for doing so.  They condemn hypocrisy, especially among those who try to claim the same discipleship. They abhor sin, yet seek the vilest sinners in their own environment, knowing they are the ones who need their Master the most.  They have compassion on the ill, the hated, and the lost.  They will yield their lives to their Teacher by yielding their rights to others.  They live by the Word of God, take comfort in the Spirit of God, and glory in their fellowship with them.  In every decision, every event, and every aspect of their lives, they ask themselves how their Lord would have handled it.  They are completely consumed with the spiritual; nothing else matters.
            So, the question today is are we Christians in the modern vernacular, or are we real Christians, “Ultimate Christians?”  Maybe if more of us started showing the world what the word “Christian” really means, we could stop making distinctions. 
 
Whoever says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked...A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone when he is fully trained will be like his teacher, 1 John 2:6; Luke 6:40.
 

The other day I was talking with a friend who loves to cook as much as I do.  We both spoke of how much more fun it is to cook for people who were not picky eaters.  When all that effort sits in the bowls and platters on the table with scarcely a dent made in them because this one prefers this and that one prefers that, it is hard not to be offended.  The very fact that I know so many more picky eaters these days than I did as a child emphasizes how wealthy this society has become.  Hungry people are not picky eaters.
            Real hunger is not a concept we understand.  We eat by the clock instead of by our stomachs, which may be the biggest reason so many of us are overweight.  If we only ate when we were truly hungry, would we eat too much on a regular basis?  A celebratory feast, which used to happen only once or twice or year, has become a weekly, if not daily, occurrence for many.
            And because we do not understand true physical hunger, we cannot understand Jesus’ blessing upon those who hunger and thirst after righteousness.  We think being willing to sit through one sermon a week makes us worthy, when that is probably the shallowest application of that beatitude.  We don’t want a spiritual feast.  We want something light, with fewer calories, requiring little effort to eat.  In fact, sometimes we want to be fed too.  Spiritual eating has become too much trouble.
            How many of us skip Bible classes?  How many daydream during the sermons, plan the afternoon ahead, even text message each other?  If more than one adult class is offered on Sunday mornings, how many choose the one that requires more study or deeper thinking?  When extra classes are offered during the week, what percentage of the church actually chooses to attend?  How many of us are actively pursuing our own studies at home, studies beyond that needed for the Sunday morning class?  If we won’t even eat the meals especially prepared for us by others, how in the world will be seek righteousness on our own and how will we ever progress past simple Bible study in satisfying our spiritual hunger?
            Picky eaters suddenly become omnivores when they really need to eat.  For some reason we think we can fast from spiritual food and still survive.  Amazing how we can deceive ourselves so easily. 
            So, what’s on your menu today, or have you even planned one?
 
Oh how love I your law! It is my meditation all the day. Your commandments make me wiser than my enemies; for they are ever with me. I have more understanding than all my teachers; for your testimonies are my meditation. I understand more than the aged, because I have kept your precepts. I have refrained my feet from every evil way, that I might observe your word. I have not turned aside from your ordinances; for You have taught me. How sweet are your words to my taste! sweeter than honey to my mouth! Through your precepts I get understanding: therefore I hate every false way. Psalm 119:97-104.

Dene Ward
 

The kitchen must be the favorite room in nearly every home.  It’s where the family meets to share their meals and their day, to gather important information—“Mom! Where are my good jeans?”—to pick up sustenance when the time between meals is long and the activities vigorous, and a place for sharing thoughts, dreams, and childhood troubles over chocolate chip cookies and ice cold milk.  When the kitchen is full of people and laughter, all is right with the world.
            That makes the kitchen floor a microcosm of how we all live.  All you have to do is drop something small, something that requires your face to be an inch above the floor trying to spy the odd shape or color, and suddenly you know everything anyone has eaten, spilled, or tracked in, even if you clean your floor regularly.  If I had every dustpan full of sweepings over my 38 years of marriage, it would make a ten foot high pile of sugar granules, flour, cornmeal, panko, cookie crumbs, Cheerios, oats, blueberries, chopped parsley, basil, and rosemary, the papery skins of onions and garlic cloves, freshly ground coffee beans, tiny, stray low dose aspirins, grains of driveway sand, clumps of garden soil, yellow clay, limerock, soot, and burnt wood, strands of hair from blonde to nearly black to gray and white, frayed threads, missing buttons, assorted screws, and loose snips from the edges of coupons.  If I had never cleaned the floor at all, it would be layered with coffee drips, dried splashes of dishwater, bacon grease and olive oil splatter, tea stains, grape juice, and sticky spots from honey and molasses spills while I was baking.  Put it all together and you would have a pretty good idea how we live our lives.
            Every soul has a kitchen floor, places where the accumulated spills of life gather.  We must regularly clean that floor, just as I am constantly sweeping and wiping and mopping, trying to stay ahead of the messes we make. As soon as I miss a day or a week, I have even more to clean up.  It would be ridiculous to think I could ignore that floor and no one would know about us, wouldn’t it? 
            Jesus said, “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks,” Matt 12:34.  You can deny it all you want, but what you speak shows who you really are.  I can say I never bake, but whoever sweeps my floor will know better.  I can pretend we don’t like Italian cuisine, but the evidence is right there.  I can tell everyone we live in the city instead of the country, but the soil on my floor will say otherwise.  It is getting harder for me to see those things now and to sweep them up perfectly, but my blindness to them will not keep others from knowing exactly what I do here all day long.
            That kitchen floor of a heart will tell on you too.  All you have to do is open your mouth.  If you don’t keep it cleaned up, if you don’t monitor the things you store in it, it could belie your protestations of a righteous life.  Sooner or later a word will slip out, a thought will take root and become a spoken idea.  I heard someone say once that you cannot imagine in others what is not already in your own heart. 
            Of course, what’s on your floor could prove your righteous life instead of denying it.  So take a moment today to examine your kitchen floor.  Let it remind you to examine your heart as well.  I had much rather people see sugar and cookie crumbs than Satan’s muddy footprints.
 
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer, Psa 19:14.          
 
Dene Ward

What goes on in the realm of Biblical scholarship never ceases to amaze me.  If you want not just a glimpse, but a complete package tour of the subject, this book will sign you on for a first class round trip ticket.  I have suggested some of the smaller, easier to digest books of Dr. McGrew's before.  This one is more of a project.  Not only is it longer, but, despite several endorsers recommending it to us laymen, I found it to be much more difficult to comprehend.  However, it was worth the effort.  So it takes you three months to get through, and you find yourself rereading several sentences, you will understand more than ever before what those so-called scholars are doing to your Bible and to your Lord.
            Here is the problem:  we always expect liberal scholars to look at the Scriptures as a book of myths and the Lord himself as "just a good teacher."  They have now taken the gospel of John and accused that apostle of not only moving events around in the life of Jesus, but completely making them up and even putting words into Jesus' mouth that he never said.  Supposedly, John did not write exactly what happened; instead, he wrote made-up events that explain Jesus and his theology.  He never really said, "I am the way, the truth and the life," but he became that to his followers, so John put it down as spoken words.  Perhaps the worst part of this, is that even evangelical (conservative) scholars are going along with it.  It has become a sign of idiocy in the Bible scholar world, evidently, to accept John's gospel as "historical reportage" (truth).
            Dr. McGrew uses her skills as an analytical logician to completely pull apart their pathetic (it really is) reasoning.  And I mean completely.  She leaves no stone unturned, to be trite about it, even to the point of, well, tedium occasionally.  (She uses the word herself.)  Because of all her painstaking work, we can know that the Apostle John is writing through "the eyes of the beholder," not making things up.  And to deny her conclusions after her obvious undoing of them, tells tales on the hearts of those who still refuse it, who obviously have their minds made up despite the facts and despite their lame logic. 
            She also includes an appendix that settles in my mind that John the apostle, the Lord's cousin, the Beloved Disciple (and you would be surprised what the liberal thinkers do with those terms) wrote the fourth Gospel.
            Yes, it's worth your time, along with anything else Lydia McGrew has written.
            The Eye of the Beholder is published by DeWard Publishing Co.
 
Dene Ward

Now there was in Joppa a disciple named Tabitha, which, translated, means Dorcas. She was full of good works and acts of charity (Acts 9:36).
            Joppa was the main seaport of ancient Israel, the place from which Jonah fled the Lord when he refused to preach to Nineveh.  It is now called Jaffa.  A disciple named Dorcas lived there.  Notice, she is called a "disciple," not a "woman."  Perhaps Luke is stressing the truth of Gal 3:28: There is now neither Jew nor Greek…slave nor free…male nor female for you are all one in Christ Jesus.  And to cement the notion, notice later in the text that two men went after Peter when she died.  Two men thought this woman was important enough to try to persuade that great apostle to come to their aid.  I am not sure that would have happened in the Old Testament or anywhere else in the Greek or Roman world.
            We know very little about her.  Some assume she was a widow since no husband is mentioned.  We do know that it is the widows who showed Peter all the clothes Dorcas had made for them.  Since our social lives tend to revolve around those with like circumstances, widows and other singles are often left out of the couples group and must resort to gathering with their own kind, but none of this is definitive.
            The real point is this woman's service to others.  Luke tells us she was "full of good works" making her the epitome of verses like, …women should adorn themselves…with what is proper for women who profess godliness—with good works, 1 Tim 2:9,10.  Do we really have any doubt at all that she was a godly woman?
            Many might wonder why Peter would bother to raise from the dead someone so ordinary, a disciple to be sure, but one who was not famous, who did not travel around preaching, who did not, it seems, even keep preachers in her home.  After all, Stephen, the deacon and great speaker had been killed not many years before.  Not long after this, James, Jesus' own cousin and one of the Twelve, even one of that special cohort of three who often accompanied the Lord, would be killed.  But who was raised from the dead?  A woman who was "full of good works."  A woman who simply helped the poor.  If you are familiar with the prophets, with God's special concern over the injustice among his people perpetuated by the rich against the poor, this should not be such a surprise.  Maybe we need to go back and read those books again before we dare to make judgments about exactly who is and is not the most important disciple among us.
            God thought the church needed Dorcas, so He sent her back at Peter's call.  Would anyone think the same about me?
 
The saying is trustworthy, and I want you to insist on these things, so that those who have believed in God may be careful to devote themselves to good works. These things are excellent and profitable for people (Titus 3:8).                                                                           
 
Dene Ward

The cliché is now true—my doctor is my social life.  When you start seeing the same issues of the same magazines in four different offices, you know it's so.  So the other day I actually found a new magazine to look at:  Country Living.  Let me look through this, I thought.  Maybe I am one of the few here who could appreciate it. 
            Boy, was I wrong.  In fact, the title of this magazine was wrong.  This was not country living it depicted.  It was some wealthy people who decided they wanted to get out of town and thought the peace and quiet would be wonderful, but only a few minutes a day of it.  I know them personally.  We have several within a mile of us.  One of their homes (well, it might as well have been one of the ones near us) was showcased in a ten page spread so you could copy their decorating schemes.  Notice these items:
            Plank floors in a 15 x 20 kitchen--(Are they planning to square dance in it?)
            A pedestal sink in the "powder room"--(A powder room?  A mud room out in the country, maybe, but forget powdering your nose if you're going out to the garden in June or July.) 
            Cabinet hardware at $25 each piece--(A $25 cabinet knob?  I mean, really, all you do is pull the thing, and sometimes you still have some of that garden mud on your hands when you do.)
            $35 each throw pillows in an all-white room--(An all-white room in the country?  Where there are no sidewalks and you have to walk through the mud to get to the steps?)
            $1400 each wicker chairs on the front porch--(I couldn't relax just walking ten feet away from a $1400 chair, much less sitting in it.  And no one in their right mind would shell peas or shuck corn in it. So what's it good for?)
No, this is not country living.  It is mere pretense.  In fact, our experience has been that these are the folks who pack up and head back into town (a 50-60 mile round trip) 5 or 6 days a week to go shopping, play a round of golf or a set of tennis, have lunch with the girls, or get a manicure.  The only thing they do in the country is sleep.  Try inviting them to help with hog-slaughtering day in return for a share of the meat and watch them melt into a pale puddle of angst.
            But—take a look around you on Sunday morning and you will find that this magazine isn’t the only place for pretenders.  Some people go to church because you are "supposed to."  That's what good, moral people do.  I grew up around a lot of folks like that.  Some choose a place out of convenience, not because they believe what it teaches.  Others go because their parents raised them that way, not out of any real conviction.  Some go for the benefits—people come see you when you're sick, someone will always help out if you have a need, and there is always a preacher handy for weddings and funerals.
            So let's think about it this morning.  Why am I where I am on Sunday mornings?  If I can't come up with an answer beyond the ones above, I just might have a problem.  I might be no more a Christian than those folks I know who are not "country people," no matter where their home happens to be located.  God expects a commitment—one of the heart, one of faith, one of understanding what you believe and why, and being willing to stand up for it. 
God expects Christians who really are.
 
“As for you, son of man, your people who talk together about you by the walls and at the doors of the houses, say to one another, each to his brother, ‘Come, and hear what the word is that comes from the LORD.’ And they come to you as people come, and they sit before you as my people, and they hear what you say but they will not do it; for with lustful talk in their mouths they act; their heart is set on their gain. And behold, you are to them like one who sings lovely songs with a beautiful voice and plays well on an instrument, for they hear what you say, but they will not do it. (Ezek 33:30-32)
 
Dene Ward