Flight Paths

Today's post is by guest writer, Doy Moyer.
 
The following are my own observations and opinions. I may be wrong; I ask only that you consider. But you won’t hurt my feelings by scrolling on.

Among the works of the flesh are strife, outbursts of anger, dissensions and divisions (Gal 5:20). There seems to be a great deal of this in the world, and that should not surprise us. But there also seems to be much of this among those claiming to follow Christ. I’d like to say that this is a surprise, but it’s not. Christians have long wrestled with being too influenced by the world and conforming to the attitudes and practices of the age (cf. Rom 12:1-2). Our lights are often dim because we partake of the darkness far more than we would like to admit.

We see this all over social media, which is, sadly, the most toxic of environments if we let ourselves get lost in its enticement. Disagreements quickly become divisive and anger-inducing, so the insults and derogatory insinuations begin. It’s difficult, it seems, to find discussions that are filled with grace, giving the benefit of any doubt, or believing the best intentions in others.
I get it. I’ve been guilty. And I know it’s hard to read something and get the full sense of what someone intends. We read what others say and hear it in our own voice, emphasize it as we think, and may well miss the point of what was meant. Many times I’ve thought that people go out of their way to swerve around the point and miss it entirely. Whatever it takes, don’t hit the point!

I’m being slightly facetious, but not by much. The irony does not escape me. We all make judgments about what others mean and how they mean it. We all have those “bad days” where we are in a bad place and easily snap at others because we take something the wrong way. It is in those times I have to remind myself that “this” is not the best time for me to say anything, for “a fool’s anger is known at once” (Prov 12:16). It’s hard to let an insult go and not respond in kind — or even respond at all (cf. Prov 26:4-5).

That “at once” part gets me. People might spend hours writing and rewriting, studying and working through an issue, carefully wording what they want to say only to be rebuffed in an instant by someone who got immediately triggered — someone who did no study and gave little thought before firing back. Social media platforms do not distinguish. In a moment we can make our thoughts known, for good or ill.

We need to remember that our words have power to encourage or discourage. We can lift up or pull down. We can help or hurt. I know that not everything posted is great and sometimes we need someone who can provide a gentle rebuke. May I offer some suggestions when thinking about entering a conversation with potential disagreement?

1. Give the benefit of the doubt. Assume the best first. Assume that the other means well and intends to do something beneficial to others. Be gracious and kind upfront.

2. If you disagree, sometimes (maybe most of the time) it’s okay to just move on. I don’t need to comment on everything I disagree with. I’d be most miserable if I did that, and it’s just not healthy mentally to spend all day online arguing and responding instantly to heated fusses.

3. If you feel the need to respond in strong disagreement (make sure this is really necessary), think about sending a private message first to ask about needed clarifications. I have been blessed by several who have done this with me, and this allowed me to make changes, clarify, and sometimes delete before it become a mess in the public arena.

4. Watch the words because words do mean something. Insults and evil surmising do not fit the child of God. We expect this from the world. It ought not be so among us. We are family, not enemies.

5. The world is watching. They will see how we treat one another on social media. They will know whether what we profess is real and meaningful to us. They will see whether we love one another or bicker so much that we despise each other. (See John 13:34-35 and 17:20-21 to see how important this is.)
The point? As Christians, let us not add to the toxicity of social media. Rather “Bless and do not curse.” By how we engage others, we can show the works of the flesh or the fruit of the Spirit. This matters eternally.
 
Doy Moyer

I know I promised you lessons about some barely mentioned women in the New Testament, but I just cannot leave Apollos out of the mix, especially since his life was at least momentarily entwined with our last lesson on Priscilla.
            A certain Jew named Apollos, an Alexandrian by race, an eloquent man…mighty in the Scriptures, Acts 18:24.  Alexandria was a city in Egypt on the shore of the southern Mediterranean, known for its schools and its libraries.  It was the intellectual and cultural center of ancient times.  If you were Alexandrian, you were probably very well educated; it was like saying someone has a degree from Harvard.  More Jews lived in Alexandria than anywhere else in the world.  The Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Old Testament, was translated there.  Besides being well-educated, Apollos was an orator and a good one at that.  Oratory was one of the things wealthy young Greeks studied and was considered a fine art.  People went to hear speakers the same way we go to concerts or plays.  It was entertainment and the good orators had a following.  That means that Apollos might even have been a celebrity of sorts in the Greek world.
            So now we have a well-educated man, knowledgeable in the Scriptures, and something of a celebrity, who is approached by a couple of blue collar tradesmen, and one of them a woman, and told he does not know "the way of God" as accurately as he thinks he does.  What does he do?  He listens to them.  With an open mind.  And when he sees the truth of the matter, he changes.  Can you imagine that happening today?  Any celebrity nowadays would have a battery of bodyguards to keep ordinary people away, and anyone with that much education would simply sneer at someone with only the equivalent of a high school diploma.
            Unfortunately, listening carefully to another viewpoint doesn't even happen in the church as often as it should.  Too many times a man can't even be shouted down because he won't stop long enough to really hear and carefully and honestly consider what he is being shown.  He is too certain he is right, and that he knows so much more than the one trying to help him, especially someone younger, or less educated, or even less well off financially, as if somehow that could possibly matter.  And if a woman says something?  Forget it.  He cannot possibly learn anything from a woman.  In fact, it might be unscriptural, regardless the example of Priscilla.  I have seen those attitudes again and again.
            Apollos is one marvelous lesson on humility.  Any time we cannot be troubled to listen to someone else we need to remember this.  After his instruction by Priscilla (who had an important role in the discussion because her name is mentioned first) and Aquila, Apollos went on to powerfully confute the Jews…showing by the scripture that Jesus was the Christ (18:28).  He could not have done that without those two humble servants' help and instruction.  When our pride gets in the way, what will we not be able to do for the Lord?
 
​Seek the LORD, all you humble of the land, who do his just commands; seek righteousness; seek humility; perhaps you may be hidden on the day of the anger of the LORD (Zeph 2:3).  
 
Dene Ward

All of a sudden I have a lot of magnifying glasses in my house:  a large “Sherlock Holmes” type, another that has a light and fastens to the side of the table, a whole magnifying page that can be laid over a book, and a small one I keep in my purse for fine print in places where I do not want to wrestle with my reading glasses.  Sometimes we are tempted to use spiritual magnifying glasses too, and not always in good ways.
           Often verses of the Bible are misinterpreted because of the use of the Middle English in the King James Version.  Even when newer, just as reputable versions come along and put the correct spin on a passage, the old interpretation sticks in the minds of those who learned it as children.  1 Thes 5:22 is one of those verses.  Abstain from all appearance of evil has come to mean that I must not do or say anything that might possibly be construed as wrong to an observer or listener.  “They might think you are __________.”  Fill in the blank with practically anything as long as it is a sin.
            Even if I did not have better translations to look at, here is my problem with that interpretation:  it directly contradicts the admonition of love in 1 Cor 13:7—love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things.  When I love someone I must look at what they have said or done and put the best possible construction on it, not the worst, or my love is a hypocritical love in word only, not in deed.  If there is a good way to take what they said, I should take it that way.  If there is a plausible excuse for a slight, I should automatically supply it.  I am not to take out my magnifying glass and search and search until aha!  I have found something I can misconstrue.
           Some of the things Jesus did looked awfully wrong to some of the people who saw them!  Remember all those times he healed on the Sabbath?  Even if he could prove the Old Law said nothing about that, the Pharisees could have correctly said, “But what does it look like?”  In fact, one of the rulers told the people, “You can come to be healed six other days in the week.  Why come on the Sabbath?” Luke 13:14.  He had a point, didn’t he?  Why not choose a time when no one would be able to question Jesus’ honoring of the Sabbath?  I can hear some of my brethren making that point exactly, totally ignoring the plight of this “daughter of Abraham,” 13:16.  Don’t you think Jesus described her that way on purpose?  To that ruler she was less important than his traditions, but Jesus made sure he saw her importance in the eyes of God.
          In Luke 11 Jesus was invited to a Pharisee’s home for dinner and ignored the ritual hand washing before the meal.  Since it was a ritual offered by every [Pharisee] host, there was no way he could have done it quietly—he openly refused to do it.  In Matt 12 he allowed his disciples to pluck grain on the Sabbath.  In Luke 7 he allowed a sinful woman to touch him.  In Luke 15 the Pharisees and scribes murmured, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.”  And think about this:  God even allowed him to be born only 6 months after his parents married.  Imagine what that looked like.  Imagine what people could have said—in fact what they did say—“We were not born of fornication (John 8:41).”
            What 1 Thes 5:22 really means, according to the American Standard Version, is abstain from every form of evil [every shape it takes].  Wherever, whenever, and however evil raises its ugly head, I am to stay away from it.
            I need to be very careful.  If I am using my magnifying glass just to find faults in you because of the way I think something might look, I need to throw it away.
 
Speak not one against another, brethren.  He that speaks against a brother or judges his brother speaks against the law; but if you judge the law, you are not a doer of the law, but a judge.  One is the lawgiver and judge, he who is able to save and destroy, but who are you who judges your brother? James 4:11
 
Dene Ward

When I was 14 a new young doctor came to town, one who was not afraid to “think outside the box.”  My older doctor turned me over to him and he decided to try contact lenses on me.  I had been wearing coke bottle glasses since I was 4 and my vision declined steadily year after year with the bottoms of the coke bottles getting thicker and thicker.
            In those days, hard, nonporous contact lenses were all they had.  Usually they were the size of fish scales.  Mine were not any broader in circumference but they were still as thick as miniature coke bottle bottoms and nearly as heavy on my eyes.  Most people who wore normal lenses could only tolerate them for six to eight hours.  Now add a cornea shaped like the end of a football, a corrugated football at that, and these things were not meant to be comfortable on my eyes, certainly not for the 16-18 hours a day I had to wear them.
            So why did I do it?  My prescription was +17.25.  The doctor told me there was no number on the chart for my vision.  (“Chart?  What chart?  I don’t see any chart.”)  He said if there were, it would be something like 20/10,000, a hyperbole I am sure, but it certainly made the point.  Hard contacts were my only hope.  If they could stabilize my eyesight, I would last a bit longer.  When I was 20, another doctor told me I would certainly have been totally blind by then if not for those contact lenses.
            Then soft contact lenses were invented and their popularity grew.  But they were not for me.  They would not have stabilized my vision.  I lost count of the number of times people who wore soft lenses said to me, “I tried those hard ones, but I just could not tolerate them.  You are so lucky you can wear them.”
            Luck had nothing to do with it.  My young doctor was smart.  He sat me down and said, “The only way you will be able to do this with these eyes is to really want to.  You must make up your mind that you will do it no matter what.”  That was quite a burden to place on a fourteen year old, but his tactics worked.  Despite the discomfort, I managed, and managed so well that most people never knew how uncomfortable I was.  Finally, when what seemed like the 1000th person told me they just could not tolerate hard lenses, I said, “You didn’t need them badly enough.”  Most of us can do much more than we ever thought possible when we really have to.
            Need is a strong motivation.  A couple of thousand years ago, it motivated a woman to go where she was not expected, normally not even allowed, and certainly not wanted. 
            Simon the Pharisee decided to have Jesus for dinner.  I read that it was the custom of the day for the leading Pharisee in the town to have the distinguished rabbi over for a meal when he sojourned there.  While the man would invite his friends to eat the meal, an open door policy made it possible for any interested party to come in and stand along the wall to listen--any interested man, that is.  Of course, it was assumed that only righteous men would be interested.
            In walked a “sinful” woman.  Luke, in chapter 7, uses a word that does not in itself imply any specific sin, but it was commonly used by that society to refer to what they considered the lowest of sinners, publicans and harlots.  The mere fact that she was a woman also caused someone in the crowd to exclaim, “Look!  A woman!” in what we assume was horrified shock.
            The men were all lying around a low table with their bodies resting on a couch and their feet turned away from the table in the direction of the wall, while their left elbows rested on the table.  The woman came into the room, walked around the wall, and began crying over Jesus’ feet.  Immediately, she knelt to wipe his feet with her hair.  I am told that this too was unacceptable.  “To unbind and loosen the hair in public before strangers was considered disgraceful and indecent for a woman,” commentator Lenski says.  We later discover that these were dirty, dusty feet from walking unpaved roads in sandals.  How do we know?  Because Simon did not even offer Jesus the customary hospitable foot washing. 
            Then she took an alabaster cruse of ointment, a costly gift, and anointed his feet—not just a token drop or two, but the entire contents--once the cruse was broken open, it was useless as a storage container.
            What did Simon do?  Nothing outward, but Jesus knew what he thought, and told him a story. 
            One man owed a lender 500 shillings, and another owed him 50.  Both were forgiven their debts when they could not pay.  Who, Jesus asked him, do you think was the most grateful?  The one who owed the most, of course, Simon easily answered.
            And so by using his own prejudices against him, Jesus proved that Simon himself was less grateful to God than this sinful woman.  His own actions, or lack thereof toward Jesus was the proof.  This man, like so many others of his party, was completely satisfied with himself and where he stood before God.  And that satisfaction blinded him to his own need, for truly no one can stand before God in his own righteousness.  His gratitude suffered because he did not feel his need.  Would he have gone into a hostile environment and lowered himself to do the most menial work a servant could do, and that in front of others?  Hardly.
            So how much do I think I need the grace of God?  The answer is the same one to how far I will go to get it, how much I will sacrifice to receive it, and how much pain I will put up with for even the smallest amount to touch my life.  Am I a self-satisfied Simon the Pharisee, more concerned with respectability than with his own need for forgiveness, or a sinful woman, who probably took the deepest breath of her life and walked into a room full of hostile men because she knew it was her only chance at Life? 
 
And turning to the woman, he said unto Simon, See this woman? I entered into your house; you gave me no water for my feet: but she has wet my feet with her tears, and wiped them with her hair.  You gave me no kiss: but she, since the time I came in, has not ceased to kiss my feet.  My head with oil you did not anoint: but she has anointed my feet with ointment.  So I say unto you, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much: but to whom little is forgiven, loves little.  And he said unto her, Your sins are forgiven… Your faith has saved you; go in peace, Luke 7:44-48,50.
 
Dene Ward
 

Many years ago we lived in an old frame house in front of a train track, on a corner lot right next to the crossing.  The boys were four and two, and they loved to run outside as soon as they heard the horn so they could wave to the engineer and watch the cars pass—boxcars, flatcars, tankers, and finally the caboose, usually with another trainman standing on its “back porch,” who also received an excited wave.  Before a week had passed, those men were craning their necks, looking for the two towheaded little boys so they could be sure to wave back. We learned the train schedule quickly:  one every morning about 8:30, one every afternoon about 4:00, and one every Saturday about midnight. 
            That first Saturday night train took about ten years off my life.  I came up out of a deep sleep when the horn sounded.  We had only been in the house two days and in the fog of sleep, I did not know where I was or what was happening.  Then I heard that train getting closer and closer, louder and louder.  I realized what it was then, but my perspective was so out of whack that it sounded like the train was headed straight for the middle of the house.  I sat straight up, frozen in terror until it had passed.
            Within two weeks I was sleeping through the din.  Not even the sudden wail of the horn woke me. During the day it took the tug of a little hand on my shirttail for me to hear the train coming so we could go out and wave.  Your mind tunes out what it doesn’t want to hear, and does a grand job of it.
            How many times do we tune out people?  When we learn another’s pet peeves, the things he goes on about at the least provocation, we no longer listen.  If we have the misfortune to deal with someone who nags, we tune that out.  Maybe we should learn the lesson to choose our battles.  If we want what we say to matter to people, don’t go on and on about the trivial or they will have tuned us out long ago and never hear the things they really need to hear.  Parents need to learn that.
            Then there is the matter of tuning out God.  Oh, we all want to hear how Jesus loved the sinners, but let’s not hear His command to, “Go thy way and sin no more.”  Let’s remind ourselves that the apostle Paul was not above preaching to some of the vilest sinners in the known world, fornicators, idolaters, adulterers, effeminate, abusers of themselves with men, thieves, covetous, drunkards, revilers, extortioners.  But let’s ignore the fact that he says they changed:  such were some of you; let’s ignore the fact that he said that in their prior state they were unrighteous and could not inherit the kingdom of God, 1 Cor 6:9-11.  That’s just one of the many things people don’t hear.
            Today, maybe we should ask ourselves what it is we don’t want to hear.  I imagine that it is the very thing we need to hear the most.
 
Why do you not understand my speech?  Because you cannot hear my word. He that is of God hears the words of God: for this cause you hear not, because you are not of God, John 8:43,47.
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.
 
Previously I wrote about John 13.  Jesus demonstrated, and then commanded, a love that was shown in self-sacrificing service even to one's enemies.  The devotional was concluded by quoting Phil. 2:3-4:  "Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.  Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others."  Paul provides an example of this type of love (aside from the Lord) later in this very chapter. 
 
Phil. 2:25-30  "I have thought it necessary to send to you Epaphroditus my brother and fellow worker and fellow soldier, and your messenger and minister to my need, for he has been longing for you all and has been distressed because you heard that he was ill.  Indeed he was ill, near to death. But God had mercy on him . . . . So receive him in the Lord with all joy, and honor such men, for he nearly died for the work of Christ, risking his life to complete what was lacking in your service to me."
 
            First, understand Paul's opinion of Epaphroditus.  "MY brother, MY fellow worker and fellow soldier".  Great men often are reluctant to claim any as equals.  Given how many of us view Paul, we might expect him to be similarly remote, yet he holds Epaphroditus close.  This was clearly a great man!  Epaphroditus' love for others is first evident in his concern for the anxiety his brethren in Philippi would feel when they heard that he was sick.  He wasn't worried for his own things (he was sick!), he was thinking of the things of others.
            The love shown by service that Jesus demonstrated in John 13, the looking out for the interest of others, is seen in how Epaphroditus became sick.  Paul says Epaphroditus "nearly died for the work of Christ".  What was that work?  "Service to me," Paul says.  While Paul was in prison, Epaphroditus was so focused on filling Paul's needs that he didn't take care of himself.  He worked himself to exhaustion.  I can almost hear the conversation:
 
Paul:  "Epaphroditus, you don't look so good.  Maybe you should get some rest."
Epaphroditus:  "Right after I get the food put away in the pantry, Paul.  Oh! and then your next shipment of parchment comes in later this morning.  And someone needs to get you a new robe.  And this afternoon I'm interviewing a new stenographer for you.  I'll rest later." 
 
            Epaphroditus' total devotion to the needs of others is a great example for us in learning how to "love one another even as I have loved you" John 13:34.
 
:Lucas Ward

Keith recently showed me the following quote by John Stott:  "A servant girl who was once asked how she knew she was a converted Christian replied: 'Well you see I used to sweep the dust under the mat, but now I don't.'  It is possible to visit somebody else as if Jesus Christ lived there, to type a letter as if Jesus Christ were going to read it, to serve a customer as if Jesus Christ had come shopping that day, and to nurse a patient as if Jesus Christ were in that hospital bed.  It is possible to cook a meal as if we were Martha in the kitchen and Jesus Christ were going to eat it."  Authentic Christianity
            The thought was so good I wondered if we might expand it this morning. 
            It is possible to drive as if Jesus Christ were in the car in front of us.
            It is possible to call a company we had a beef with as if Jesus Christ were going to answer the phone.
            It is possible to greet the cashier as if he were Jesus Christ, or to stand behind a slow customer in the line as if that customer were him as well.
            It is possible to speak to the waiter in a restaurant as if he were Jesus Christ, even if we need to return an unacceptable dish.
            It is possible to speak to a neighbor whose dog woke us up in the night as if he were Jesus Christ.
            I believe you could add a few yourself from your own experience.  The Lord is at hand, Paul tells us in Phil 4:5, which means he is always within arm's reach any time you have any of those situations listed above happen to you.  And isn't it interesting that the first half of that particular verse is, Let your forbearance be known to all men.  "Forbearance" means reasonableness, moderation, graciousness, gentleness.  And truly isn't that what we want the Lord to see in us in all those situations?  If not, why do we even bother to call ourselves his disciples and wear his name?
 
But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. ​Give to the one who begs from you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you. ​“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, ​so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. ​For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? ​You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect (Matt 5:39-48).
 
Dene Ward

A few weeks ago I got out a pretty dress, put on my heels, found a pretty pair of sparkly, dangling earrings, and dabbed on some lipstick.  Keith and I went out to celebrate our anniversary.  He trimmed his beard, wore a coat and tie, and polished up his dress shoes.  Do you think either one of us for a moment thought that because we chose to dress up for each other on that evening that we didn’t love each other the other 364 days of the year?  If we had, we would not have been celebrating number 49.
            Our assemblies have gotten more casual in dress as the years have gone by.  I understand that dress has nothing to do with the heart.  Sometimes people clean up the outside when it’s the inside that matters.  I would never judge a person as being less than devoted to the Lord because he wore jeans to the assembly, or because he waited on the Lord’s table without a tie on.  I think most of us have gotten past such superficiality. 
            Recently, though, someone said in my hearing that we needed to realize that we serve God all the time, not just on Sundays and that dressing up on Sundays was a sign of being a “Sunday morning Christian.”  I certainly agree with the first part of that statement, but I think the second half goes too far.
            I still wear a dress to our Sunday morning assemblies because that is what I have done all my life.  I see nothing wrong with dressing up—it’s one of the few chances I get.  It does not mean I don’t love the Lord the rest of the week, any more than dressing up for an anniversary dinner means I don’t love my husband the rest of the year.
            Why is it wrong to judge a person who does not dress up, but perfectly fine to judge a person who does? 
            That is just a small example of a big problem we all have—one way or the other we often do exactly the same things we criticize others for doing.  We may be just as judgmental, just as tactless, just as inconsiderate as others.  We have just wrapped ourselves in such an aura of self-righteousness that we cannot see it in ourselves.  Our vision has been clouded by what we want to see, not what is really there.
            I have developed another eye problem—a growth that is fogging up the vision I still have, and which will gradually worsen unless it is removed.  Unfortunately, because of all the other conditions, the surgery to remove the growth is as dangerous to my vision as allowing the growth to continue on. 
            But there is no argument here: it is far more dangerous to our souls to allow that spiritual haze to grow unabated than to remove it.  Self-righteousness breeds true, and becomes more and more difficult to see in ourselves as the years go on. 
 
Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye, Matt 7:1-5.
 
Dene Ward

"False Christs will arise," Jesus prophesied.  And it has been so.  There have been religious quacks advancing great claims for themselves, and poor psychotics saying, "I am Jesus Christ."  There have also been misrepresentations of Christ, caricatures, which depict him as fiery zealot, failed superstar or circus clown.  And coming nearer home, there are our own distorted images of Jesus.
            "Follow me," he said.  "Yes, Lord," comes our glib reply, "We will follow you."  But which Christ are we following?  The Christ some follow breathes love but never judgment, brings comfort but never challenge, while others among us are alert to his commission to evangelize, but have somehow never heard his call to care for the poor, the sick, the hungry and the deprived.
            The apostles took up the theme of following Jesus.  We are to "imitate" him, they wrote, "to follow in his steps."  What it will mean to do this depends on our understanding of the Jesus in whose shoes we are to walk.  So let's look again for the real Jesus, the authentic Jesus of the gospel records, over against the popular dreams which men have dreamed.  Certainly our Christian lifestyle depends on the kind of Christ we envisage and believe in. 
John Stott, Authentic Christianity

We lived on five acres for 38 years, but did not have the equipment to handle it sometimes.  Most everything we accomplished has been with a shovel, a wheelbarrow, and Keith’s strong back.  We certainly didn’t have a tractor to keep it manicured properly.     
            We decided a few years ago that we had rather see some splashes of color here and there instead of waist high green grass and assorted head high weeds, so we planted several cans of mixed wildflower seeds around the perimeter of the mown section.  The first year they did not do much, but the second year we had a nice showing of coreopsis, gaillardia, and gloriosa daisies.  They come up again every spring and have even spread out into the field in a few places.
            Four summers ago I started cutting the deadheads and scattering them around.  I thought it might be nice to have some up by the gate to greet our guests and scattered a few up there.  The next year I had two orange firewheels, the more colloquial name for gaillardia.  The year after that we had about six.  Last year I quit counting at 20.  They were so thick it was hard to tell exactly how many there were—we’re talking plants, not blooms, which were many times more than 20.  I can hardly wait to see what happens this year.
            You’ve seen deadheads. They are gray or brown, shriveled and dried up.  You would never think they had once been beautiful blooms or were any longer valuable at all.  But “deadhead” is a most inaccurate name for them.  Inside those ugly old blooms lay the potential for thousands more beautiful blooms.
            Have you looked in the mirror lately?  Some of you are a lot younger than I, but no matter how young you are, you are not as young as you used to be.  Someday you will be my age, and most of you will get even older than that.  It’s easy these days, especially facing a major disability, to think that I am no longer useful in the kingdom.  It’s easy to say that since I might not be able to get out much any more, that I cannot serve.  When you grow older, you will face the same feelings.  If you are older, you may be facing them already.
            But that is not the case.  Just like those dried up flowers, you have the potential to reach thousands through your example.  Maybe the only example you are able to give any more is faithfulness—but it is a powerful one, and always needed.  You are there when the doors of the meetinghouse are opened if you can drag yourself out at all.  Sometimes you are there when you ought not to be. You have been married for 40, 50, 60 years to the same husband or wife, and the devotion between you is still obvious.  You sit quietly and never cause any trouble.  In Bible classes you make comments that show you have lived by the scriptures.  You have children who are faithful to God, to their mates, to the body of Christ, and who are good citizens of this earthly country as well.  Do you think none of that counts?
            If you are young, you need to start making good use of these resources.  Too many times the young are stuck in the self-centered ways of youth, forgetting that older Christians have lived a life every bit as interesting as theirs.  Get them to talking sometime about their past.  You just might be amazed at what they have been through and survived; things you will probably never face in these prosperous times.   And you will find one of the helps God always intended you to have—the wisdom of the aged.  I have learned more valuable lessons from quiet people with halos of silver hair than from any pulpit preacher I have ever listened to—and I have heard some pretty good ones.
            Setting an example is not something we have a choice about.  As long as we are alive we do just that.  And it may be the most powerful thing any of us do.  You are never shriveled, dried up and useless as far as God is concerned.  You are always sowing seeds.  Be sure you sow the right ones.
 
The hoary head is a crown of glory; it shall be found in the way of righteousness, Prov 16:31
 
Dene Ward