Flight Paths

“Whew!” I always say when it’s over for another year.  Some of it is in the freezer—blueberries, strawberries, tomato sauce, corn, pole beans, white acre peas, blackeyes, and limas—but quite a bit sits on the shelves of the back pantry in those clear sturdy Mason jars: two kinds of cucumber pickles, squash pickles, okra pickles, pickled banana peppers, pickled jalapenos, tomatoes, salsa, tomato jam, muscadine juice, and muscadine jelly.
            The first time I ever canned I was scared to death.  First, the pressure canner scared me.  I had heard too many stories of blown up pots and collard greens on the ceiling like the hanging Gardens of Babylon, but once I had used it a few times without incident, and really understood how it worked, that fear left me.  I still follow the rules though, or it will blow up.  No amount of sincerity on my part will keep that from happening if I let the pressure get too high. 
            I also follow the sterilization rules and the rules about how much pressure for how long and how much acidity is required for steam canning.  Botulism, a food poisoning caused by foods that have been improperly canned, is a particularly dangerous disease.  Symptoms include severe abdominal pain, vomiting, blurred vision, muscle weakness and eventual paralysis.  You’d better believe I carefully follow all the rules for home canning.  I give away a lot of my pickles and jams.  Not only do I not want botulism, I certainly don’t want to give it to anyone else either.
            Some folks chafe at rules.  Maybe that’s why they don’t follow God’s rules.  They want to take the Bible and pick and choose what suits them.  “Authority?” they scoff.  “Overrated and totally unnecessary.”  Authority does matter and a lot of people in the Bible found out the hard way.  Whatever you do in word or in deed, do all in the name of {by the authority of} the Lord Jesus…Col 3:17.  You might pay special attention to the context of that verse too.
            God’s people were warned over and over to follow His rules, to, in fact, be careful to follow His rules, Deut 5:1.  I counted 31 times in the Pentateuch alone.  Not following those rules resulted in death for many and captivity for others.  When Ezra and Nehemiah brought the remnant back to Jerusalem, once again they were warned, at least five times in those two short books.  Maybe suffering the consequences of doing otherwise made the need for so much repetition a little less.
            David had a way of looking at God’s rules that we need to consider.  For I have kept the ways of the Lord, and have not wickedly departed from my God.  For all his rules were before me, and from his statutes I did not turn aside, 2 Sam 22:22,23. Many of David’s psalms talk about God’s rules, but the 119th mentions them 17 times.  David calls those rules good, helpful, comforting, righteous, praiseworthy, enduring, hope-inducing, true, and life-giving.  How can anyone chafe at something so wonderful?
            People simply don’t want rules, especially with God.  God is supposed to be loving and kind and accept me as I am.  No.  God knows that the way we are will only bring death.  We must follow the rules in order to live.  We must love the rules every bit as much as David did.  I will praise you with an upright heart when I learn your righteous rules…My soul is consumed with longing for your rules at all times…When I think of your rules from of old, I take comfort, O Lord…Great is your mercy O Lord, give me life according to your rules, 119:7, 20, 52, 156.
            I get out my canning guide and faithfully follow the rules every summer.  I never just guess at it; I never say, “That’s close enough.”  I know if I don’t follow those rules someone could die, maybe me or one of my good friends or one of my precious children or grandchildren.  I bet there is something in your life with rules just as important that you follow faithfully.  Why then, are we so careless with the most important rules we have ever been given?
 
For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome, 1 John 5:3.
 

It was one of those recuperating days I have had so many of the past few years, so I sat in my lounger outside, the early morning autumn breeze ruffling my hair, a sweet little dog snuffling for a pat at my side, looking out over our domain, such as it is.  The east sun was filtering through the woods fifty yards in front of me, not yet high enough to cause me any trouble. 
            I had carried a pair of binoculars to do a little bird-watching, but saw on the northeast corner of the property what looked like a giant orange bloom.  So I lifted those heavy lenses and got a surprise.  The bloom did not really exist.  What I saw was the sun shining on a clump of dried out pine straw hanging on a low, dead limb.  I pulled down the binoculars and looked again.  I much preferred the big orange bloom.
            Then I started looking around and saw some more.  The dull green leaves near the top of the tree glinted like small mirrors in the few rays of sun that had pierced through to them.  Even the gray Spanish moss resembled icicles.  I knew in a few minutes the effect would all be gone.  The sun would have risen high enough not to perform these magic tricks.  Still, it reminded me of something important.
            All by myself I am nothing, I can do nothing, and I have nothing to hope for.  But the light of the gospel changes everything.  Through that light, we are able to see the glory of Christ and believe (2 Cor 4:3-6.)  When we are raised from the waters of baptism, God’s glory gives us the power to walk “in newness of life” (Rom 6:4).  We transform ourselves into the image of His Son by the renewing of our minds (Rom 12:2, 8:29).  When the glory of the Lord shines on us through our submission to his gospel, what looks plain and ordinary becomes beautiful, what looks dead and repulsive becomes glorious.  That’s us we’re talking about—you and me.  We can be beautiful.
            Look at your life today.  Would someone see a beautiful bloom, a sparkling mirror, a glittering icicle?  They only will if you have allowed that light inside you, if you have let it have its way, transforming you into the person God meant you to be from the beginning.  Some will not do this.  They fight it, and offer excuses of all sorts.  “I’m only human after all.”  “No one is perfect.”  “Someone has to have common sense around here and not be such an innocent babe!” “It’s my right after all.”  None of those will give anyone a beautiful view of a child of God.
            Peter reminds us, As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, "You shall be holy, for I am holy." 1 Peter 1:14-16.  If we are not submissive to his will, we will never be transformed to his image.  We will look like nothing but dried out pine straw on a dead limb, and all the excuses in the world will never change it. 
            “What would Jesus do?” may be an old denominational catch-phrase, but is it any different than, “Be ye holy as I am holy?”  God desires nothing more than for us to be exactly like Christ, “conformed to the image of his son” Rom 8:29, “that you might follow in his steps” 1 Pet 2:21.  If you find yourself looking through the world’s binoculars and seeing nothing but your old self, the light of the gospel has not reached your heart.
            Conform yourself today.  In every aspect of your life, in every action you take, and every word you speak, “be ye holy in all your conduct.”  You can do it, or God wouldn’t have asked it of you.
 
But we all, with unveiled face reflecting as a mirror the glory of the Lord, are transformed into the same image from glory to glory, even as from the Lord the Spirit. 2 Cor 3:18

I received this book as a gift and when I saw the author's name I was so excited that I read it immediately.  Brother Hall is a virtual legend and anything he writes is worth reading.
            First, recognize that this was written as a tribute to his late wife Caneta, "mother of five and wife of 69 years."  That makes everything in it that much more poignant.
            Second, I believe that this should be approached as a classbook.  Brother Hall has added discussion questions after each of the thirteen lessons (see? a teaching quarter) that could keep a class going far more than the requisite 45 minutes most allow and well into the hour that ladies' classes on weekdays usually allot. 
            Third, it is not just a young mothers' book.  Any mother or grandmother can gain from it, as well as others who serve as mentors and counselors for the women who approach them for advice.  We are all mothers our whole lives if we are willing to serve that way.
            The book also contains two appendices.  The first one, written by a teenager (I assume) about how she values her virginity, should be required reading for every teenage Christian, male or female.  Whoever and wherever this young woman is (brother Hall could not find her), she deserves our thanks for her frank and touching essay.
            As I first read through the table of contents on this book I was amazed.  I knew that we have a fair amount of material about Mary, including some logical inferences we can make, but I would have been hard-pressed to come up with 13 lessons.  Brother Hall in his vast experience and knowledge of the scriptures has done far more than I would have thought possible.
            Mary, Model of Motherhood was published by Mount Bethel Publishing.
 
Dene Ward

So you're hungry and decide to make yourself a quick sandwich.  Do you realize what a luxury that is?  A hundred years ago you had to either bake your own loaf of bread or go buy a whole loaf and then come home and slice it yourself.  Bakeries did not have a machine that could slice warm bread or even slice cold bread evenly.  A man named Otto Rohwedder fixed that problem. 
            Born in Des Moines, Iowa, he later moved to Davenport as a child, and eventually entered the Illinois College of Optometry.  After graduation he became a jeweler in St. Joseph, Missouri.  But he always had the dream of a machine that could slice warm bread.  Everyone told him he was crazy and no one took him seriously.  But he never let go of his dream, working at it in his spare time, even building a small factory.  One day his factory burned down, destroying both the prototype and the blueprints for his invention; his idea was put off yet again.  Finally, he came up with another prototype, a machine that would slice bread straight out of the oven without squashing it.  But no one would buy the machine.  They didn't believe it would work.
            Finally, Frank Bench, the owner of the Chillicothe Baking Company in Chillicothe, Missouri, ordered one of the machines.  He sold his first loaf of sliced bread on July 7, 1928.  His bread sales increased 1000% in just two weeks.  Word spread and orders came in from across the country for Rohwedder's machine.  He had changed bread baking.  In fact, in 1943, President Roosevelt tried to ration sliced bread.  A vocal rebellion among homemakers changed his plan.  In 1951, comedian Red Skelton coined the phrase, "The best thing since sliced bread," showing just how momentous this invention was—the phrase has stuck since then.
            Indeed, change can be momentous, especially a change in thinking.  In ancient times, most people did their best to stay out of the limelight, avoiding anything that might make the gods notice them.  Gods, to the pagans, were beings who had no love for mortals and played with them like a cat with a mouse—just before pouncing for the kill.  So no one wished to be noticed by the gods.  In fact, the best life you could hope for was not to be noticed by the gods. 
          Then along came people like the apostle Paul, teaching them about a God who actually cared about them.  A God who loved them and wanted to help them and even be with them forever.  A God who would send His Son to die so all of those things could happen.  Is it any wonder that they flocked to hear about Him?  A God who would do this for you, and who promised you would live with Him in glory for Eternity, was a God worth devoting yourself to, spending your life serving, and even dying for.  And many did, in some truly horrible ways.
            To the Jews He was presented as a God who kept His promises to their father Abraham, and who would bring a kingdom that lasted forever and which no earthly kingdom could destroy.  And His Son, the promised Messiah, also died for a covenant that meant no more Day of Atonement, no more daily sacrifices, no more Passover, because, "Your sins I will remember no more."  No more weight of guilt in your life—another momentous change.
            And our grandmothers thought sliced bread was great?  Sliced bread shouldn't even be mentioned in the same breath as our God.  He can change your life in ways you never thought possible, and loves you far more than you deserve.  …remember the former things of old; for I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me (Isa 46:9).
 
For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die— but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us (Rom 5:7-8).
 
Dene Ward
 
 
 

It did not take long for this city girl to discover one common problem with country life--mice.  One morning I walked out to the kitchen to discover that the dog had had a playmate all night, and it was lying right in the doorway to the kitchen, all “played” out.  So we set out traps, especially in the large walk-in pantry/laundry area.  If anything would attract the mice we figured it would be the warmth from the water heater and the food on the shelves.
            The pantry shared a wall with the dining area.  One frigid morning we were eating breakfast when we suddenly heard a sharp snap, followed by a thump on that wall’s other side, then squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak, and a scrambling of tiny feet.  I didn’t think this was the way mousetraps were supposed to work, but what did I know?  Before that fall, I had never even seen one except on cartoons.
            Keith walked around, peered into the pantry, and started laughing.  When we had set the trap inside the door, we had pushed it in with the peanut butter side against the wall and the spring on the side toward the door.  Evidently the mouse had climbed onto the spring and when he started nibbling on the peanut butter, it had snapped, catapulting him into the wall.  Having survived the trap, he had run away unscathed except, perhaps, for a nasty bump on the head.
            That night we reset the trap, this time pushing it in the other way around.  Sure enough, as we were eating breakfast the next morning we heard the snap, followed by a deathly quiet.  Keith disposed of the interloper after we finished eating.
            That mouse thought he had found a way around the trap.  That dumb animal thought he was safe because one time he had had a nibble without it killing him.  If mice could think such things, I could just imagine, “It won’t happen to me,” coming out of his mouth, just like a few dumb humans I know of.  It isn’t enough to stay out of the trap—you have to stay completely away from it.  Thorns and snares are in the way of the perverse; He who keeps his soul shall be far from them, Prov 22:5.
            Job pictures the life of the wicked as nothing but snares, 18:8-10.  Jeremiah says they lay snares for the righteous, 5:26.  How do they do that?  By their very lifestyles.  We look, and we want, and we wish, and suddenly we do—just like they do.  God warned the Israelites not to even covet the gold and silver covering the idols, lest you be snared therein, Deut 7:25.  It is not enough to just want their lives and “not do the sins they do—I know better than that!”  How can we not eventually fall into the same things they did?  Because, like that mouse, we think we have found a way to nibble on one side and not be caught by the other.
            The Proverb writer says we are often ensnared “with the words of our own mouths,” 6:2.  We say we abhor sin, we say we don’t want to do bad things, but with the same mouth we idolize people who live without morals, without integrity, and without self-control, people who care nothing at all about God.  They may even wear crosses around their necks and thank the Lord in public, but they turn right around and profane Him with their lives.  And we think we wouldn’t be trapped by sin the same way they are?  How foolish, how immature can we be?
            Don’t glamorize sin.  Don’t worship those who do.  Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can sit on one side of the mousetrap and have a bite of something good, and a fun, and exciting ride to boot.  The next time you nibble, someone may very well have turned the mousetrap around.
 
But my eyes are toward you, O GOD, my Lord; in you I seek refuge; leave me not defenseless!
Keep me from the trap that they have laid for me and from the snares of evildoers!  Psalm 141:8,9.
 

My back and feet were aching and my hands cramped from peeling by the time I finished.  The seals on the pint jars of apple butter popped and I started the clean-up of unused jars and lids, the large pot covered with sticky residue, and the measuring cups and spoons.  Finally it was over. 
            The apple tree had borne far more than ever before.  I had made several pies, a couple dozen muffins and a cake, and canned two dozen quarts of applesauce, a gallon of apple juice, a dozen pints of apple jelly, half a dozen quarts of apple pie filling, and finally a half dozen jars of apple butter.
            As I stood over a sink full of soapy water I muttered, “I hope I never see another apple as long as I live.”  The next spring my apple tree died.
            When it became apparent that we couldn’t save the tree, Keith looked at me and muttered something about not really knowing what that might mean—the fact that I could curse a tree and it up and die for no obvious reason so soon afterward.  Just exactly who, or what, was he married to?
            The county agent saved my reputation.  The tree was planted too close to an oak, he said.  Oaks carry a disease that kills fruit trees, especially apples and peaches.  Sure enough, we soon lost our peach tree too.
            All these years later, the story came up again, and with it a new perspective.  Here I had cursed a tree that bore too much, while the Lord cursed one that bore too little. 
            And seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to see if he could find anything on it. When he came to it, he found nothing but leaves, for it was not the season for figs. And he said to it, "May no one ever eat fruit from you again." And his disciples heard it.  And as they passed by it in the morning, they saw the fig tree withered to its roots, Mark 11:13,14,20.
            You might do as I did at first and wonder why the Lord would expect to find figs when it wasn’t fig season.  Yet every commentator I read said that figs produce their fruit before they leaf out.  When the Lord saw a fig tree fully leafed out, he had every right to expect to see some fruit, even if it was small and green.  As a gardener I know that nearly every plant has at least one “early-riser”—a tomato or pepper or blueberry that ripens before the others.  Even if there was nothing ripe, there should have been plenty of fruit hanging there, gradually ripening on the leafy branches.
            Now how about us?  Is anything ripening on our branches?  Is the fruit of the Spirit perhaps still a little green, but nonetheless visible as we become more and more what he would have us be?  Or are we nothing but leafy show: lots of pretty clothes on Sunday morning but behavior like the rest of the world throughout the week?  Lots of talk in Bible class, but no good works in the community?  Quoting catchphrases to our neighbors, but never opening the Book in our own homes?  More concerned with winning arguments than winning souls?
            The Lord will come looking for figs in our lives, more than likely at a season in which we are not expecting him.  He told us we would recognize false teachers by their fruits (Matt 7:16-20).  What will he recognize about us from ours or will there even be any for him to see?
 
And so, from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God, Col 1:9,10.

Dene Ward
             

I don’t need to tell you the story of the Prodigal, or Wasteful, Son.  I am sure you have heard the lesson so many times you might shut this book if I tried.  All I want you to think about this morning is the point that young man had to reach before he could truly repent.  He had to hit rock bottom.  He had to wake up and find himself completely alone with nothing but the pigs for company and the food he fed them for sustenance. 
            We raised pigs when the boys were still with us.  Every fall we put a new one in the freezer and it kept us well fed for a year.  But after raising them, I can say with authority that it was a brave man who first ate one.  Leaning over to put the feed in the trough and coming face to face with a snorting, muddy, ugly, animal whose head was twice as big as mine, and who nose was always running and caked with a mixture of dirt and feed was nothing short of disgusting.  I never had a bit of trouble come slaughtering day, despite the fact that we named them all—either Hamlet or Baconette, depending upon gender. 
            When we have sinned against God, we need to reach the point that young man did, bending over and finding himself face to face with a filthy, reeking, disgusting animal.  We need to understand how low we have sunk.  For some it may not take as much.  Their “rock bottom” may be a realization that comes from private study and its conviction, or someone’s chance comment in a Bible class that hits the mark.  That may be enough to turn their hearts.  But for the stubborn, the arrogant, and the foolish, it will always take more.  They have to have their noses rubbed in the mud of the sty to realize that they are indeed eating with the pigs.
            But we must not think this is only for those who have “left” and then returned.  This needs to happen every time we sin, not just the “big ones.”  Why do you think those little sins keep plaguing us?  Because we have never seen them as anything but “little.”  We have let our culture and our own pride keep us from comprehending the enormity of sin and what it does to our relationship with our God.  Nothing that caused the death of the Son of God is “little.”  For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, Rom 3:23.  We don’t understand “glory” if we think that even the tiniest amount of sin can stand in its presence.  We have to, in the words of Ezekiel, remember your evil ways and your deeds that were not good, and loathe yourselves for your iniquities and your abominations, 36:31.
            So the next time you pray for forgiveness, ask yourself first if you recognize how far you have fallen; if you understand that any sin is horrible; that even the tiniest sin, as men count them, makes you forever unworthy to stand in the presence of an Almighty God.
            Ask yourself if you realize that you have been eating with the pigs.
 
For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death. For see what earnestness this godly grief has produced in you, but also what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what fear, what longing, what zeal, what punishment! At every point you have proved yourselves innocent in the matter, 2 Cor 7:10,11.

Dene Ward

My class has spent several weeks on some women in the New Testament whose lives barely cover three or four verses.  But the number and depth of the lessons these women have taught us is staggering.
            Can we start with Lydia?  Evidently, Lydia was a believer in God, but a Gentile.  Paul encountered her in Philippi, down by the river where several other women like her met together on the Sabbath.  So what, one may ask.  First this, Lydia was not from Philippi, she was from Thyatira.  For some reason or other she had relocated and set up shop.  That involves a whole lot more than you might think.  According to Everett Ferguson in Backgrounds of Early Christianity, that meant she had to go through the same red tape we would have to today, first joining a guild of dyers and second, applying for permits and probably paying a fee to set up her business in the agora.  And that means she must have been a successful businesswoman if she was able to do all that.
            Yet, she is also a believer in God somehow.  Whether she encountered the teaching in her hometown or in Philippi we don't know.  But we do know that she knew enough to worship on the Sabbath and cared enough to find a community of believers (since there was evidently no synagogue) and meet with them.  The first lesson she teaches us is to always travel with the Lord.  She didn't leave him behind and she never "went on vacation" from Him.  Perhaps those other women were all like her—Gentile believers, another thing we don't know.  But we do know that she accepted the gospel and became part of the fledgling church in that town.  Even Jews learned in the Scriptures had a hard time doing that, and so her open-mindedness is another lesson.
            And here may be her biggest lesson of all.  Immediately after her baptism, she looked at Paul and Silas and said, "If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come to my house and stay.” And she prevailed upon us  (Acts 16:15).  When Paul taught her the gospel, he taught her that it was not about what she could get out of it; it was about following a suffering servant by serving others, and she did so, insisting she be allowed to, immediately.  I have actually heard Christians tell elders exactly what they expected from the church now that they were members.  Others may not say it, but certainly act like it.  Lydia knew better.  She was so grateful for her salvation that she couldn't wait to give something back, even knowing it would never actually repay the bill.
            So she took Paul and Silas into her home, and here we see another lesson.  She may have known these two men, but did her neighbors?  More important, did her customer base?  All they knew were two rabble rousing jailbirds, but Lydia had no qualms about taking them in or the effect it might have had on her reputation or business.  This was how she helped spread a gospel that had saved her, and she was ready to sacrifice whatever necessary.
            All those lessons from the three verses that mention her name, Acts 16:14,15,40.  Lydia was truly a remarkable woman, one who deserves far more notice than she is usually given.  If we learn her lessons, we can be too.
 
But it shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:43-45).
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.

"Self-love is the biblical understanding of sin."
 
"That self-centeredness is a worldwide phenomenon of human experience is evident from the rich variety of words in our language which are compounded with "self".  There are more than fifty which have a pejorative meaning—words like self-applause, self-absorption, self-assertion, self-advertisement, self-indulgence, self-gratification, self-glorification, self-pity, self-importance, self-interest, and self-will."
 
"Pride is more than the first of the seven deadly sins, it is itself the essence of all sin. For it is the stubborn refusal to let God be God, with the corresponding ambition to take his place."  (All quotes taken from John Stott.)
 
The above very accurately nails the emphasis on self-esteem so prevalent today right in its place.  Truly it must be the first plank in the Devil's platform for winning our vote.
 
Keith Ward

If you were like me as a child, you learned quickly that you do not talk back to your parents.  You don't argue, you don't make sarcastic comments, you don't mock, you certainly don't say, "NO," when you are told to do something.  I tried it once and never did it again.
            I think that's one application of the passage in Habakkuk:  But Jehovah is in his holy temple: let all the earth keep silence before him. (Hab 2:20).  God had just pronounced a judgment that Habakkuk did not think was fair.  He asked God how he could allow a nation even more wicked than Judah to destroy them.  While God was willing to answer Habakkuk, the prophet knew there was no sense arguing.  The Creator of all the universe had made his decision.  "Let all the earth keep silence before Him."  No talking back.
            Sometimes God makes decisions about the things we pray for that we do not understand.  No matter how hard we try, it simply makes no sense to us.  Perhaps we are thinking too highly of ourselves and our ability to know what is best, even though we are stuck here in time on a physical earth, unable to see the larger ramifications.  It is up to us to do as Habakkuk did and accept an Almighty God's decision with the reverent attitude, "Thy will be done," and mean it.
            But there is another aspect to this silence.  Habakkuk contrasts our approach to God with the approach idolaters take--must take—in order to gain their god's attention—and even then it doesn't work.  Woe unto him who says to the wood, Awake; to the dumb stone, Arise! Shall this teach? Behold, it is overlaid with gold and silver, and there is no breath at all in the midst of it. (Hab 2:19)
            Remember the contest on Mt Carmel?  The prophets of Baal called from morning until noon…but there was no voice, and no one answered. (1Kgs 18:26)  Elijah called out ONE TIME.  That was all it took, and the fire came down immediately. This is not to negate the persistence in prayer taught in other passages, but sometimes we treat God as if he, too, were an idol who needed to be roused from sleep, when closer inspection shows that WE need to learn to accept God's decisions.
            How do we know when to do what?  I am not sure, but that closer inspection must surely involve a lot of self-examination.  Why do I keep asking for this particular thing?  Too many times the reasons are selfish, immature, or covetous.  Too many times we refuse to see our own failings in the problems we have.  It's much easier to blame it on someone else than to change ourselves.  It's easier to blame the church than to accept individual responsibility.  How many times have I heard parents say the church is the reason their children are lost?  How many times has Keith heard convicted felons blame their lives on society?
            The answer again is to keep quiet and listen.  Keep quiet and think.  Keep quiet and accept God's judgment.  Repentance doesn't involve excuses—verbalizing a list.  It means we face our sins and change.
            God won't accept backtalk any more than your parents did.
 
Be silent, all flesh, before the LORD, for he has roused himself from his holy dwelling. (Zech 2:13)
 
Dene Ward