Flight Paths

National Carrot Day was begun in 2003 in an effort to increase awareness of the beneficial compounds of carrots.  I am told it is celebrated around the world with carrot parties, featuring carrot dishes and guests dressed in orange or in some cases in carrot costumes.
            Carrots do far better up north than down here in Florida.  Whether it's the climate or the lack of nutrition in the sandy soil, I don't know, but we seldom bother planting them.  One year we did though, planting them late by Florida standards, so I was just pulling carrots the first week of June.  It wasn’t difficult; I pulled the whole row in about 15 minutes.  Still, it was disappointing—a twenty foot row yielded a two and a half gallon bucket of carrots that turned into a two quart pot when they were cleaned and sorted, cutting off the tops and tossing those that were pencil thin or bug-eaten.
            Then I thought, well, consider the remnant principle in the Bible.  Out of all the people in the world, even granting that the population was much less than it is now, only eight were saved at the Flood.  Out of all the nations in the world, God only chose one as His people.  Out of all those, only one tribe survived the Assyrians, and out of all those, only a few survived the Babylonians and only 42,000 of those returned to the land out of the 1,000,000 or so in Babylon.  What's that?  4.2%?
            Jesus spoke of the wide gate and the narrow gate.  Surely that tells us that though God wishes all to be saved, only a few will be.  So out of a twenty foot row of carrots, I probably threw out half.  Then we threw out a third of those that were too small to even try to scrub and peel.  Yet we probably did better with our carrots than the Lord will manage with people!  And I learned other principles that carrot-pulling day, too.
            When I pulled those carrots some of them had full beautiful tops, green, thick-stemmed, and smelling of cooked carrots when I lopped them off.  Yet under all that lush greenery several had very little carrot at all.  They were superficial carrots—all show and no substance.  Others were pale and bitter, hardly good for eating without adding a substantial amount of sugar.  Then under some thin, sparse tops, I often found a good-sized root, deep orange and sweet.  Yes, they were all the same variety, but something happened to them in the growth process.
            Some of us are all top and no root.  It always surprises me when a man who is so regular in his attendance has so little depth to his faith.  Surely sitting in a place where the Word is taught on a consistent basis should have given him something, even if just by osmosis.  But no, it takes effort to absorb the Word of God and more effort to put it into practice, delving deeper and deeper into its pages and considering its concepts.  The Pharisees could quote scripture all day, but they lacked the honesty to look at themselves in its reflection.
            And there are some of us who have little to show on the outside, but a depth no one will know until a tragedy strikes, or an attack on the faith arises, or a need presents itself, and suddenly they are there, standing for the truth, showing their faith, answering the call.  I knew one man who surprised us all with his strength in the midst of trial, a quiet man hardly anyone ever noticed.  Yet his steadfastness under pressure was remarkable.  I knew another who had been loud with his faith, nearly boasting in his confidence that he was strong, yet who shocked us all with his inability to accept the will of God, his assertions that he shouldn’t have to bear such a burden when he had been so faithful for so long.  Truly those carrot tops will fool you if you aren’t careful.  “Judge not by appearance,” Jesus said, “but judge righteous judgment.”  Look beneath those leafy greens and see where and how your root lies.
            Evidently the principles stand both for man and carrots.  Don’t count on your outward show, your pedigree in the faith.  Develop a deep root, one that will grow sweeter as time passes and strong enough to stand the heat of trial. 
            And don’t assume you are in the righteous remnant if that righteousness hasn’t been tested lately.  God hates more to throw out people than I hate to throw out carrots, but He will.  Don’t spend so much time preening your tops that your root withers.  And finally, only a few will make it to the table; make sure you are one of them.
 
Behold, I stand at the door and knock: if any man hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me. Revelation 3:20            
 
Dene Ward          

Out here in the sticks we are surrounded by hundreds of acres of pine woods planted by the paper companies.  Do not let anyone tell you that we are depleting our forests by using so much paper.  Old growth forests are not used for paper goods; they are used for that pretty furniture you own.  The paper companies regularly plant the trees they eventually send to the mills. 
            I always get a start when I pass a wooded section that has been standing for several years, and find that it has been taken down, soon to be replanted with small saplings.  And I have noticed several times that when the trees are removed, a rundown wooden shack sits in the open, formerly hidden by the rows and rows of sixty foot tall pines.  The porch sags, the roof waffles, the windows are paneless, with dangling shutters or none at all.  There are no power lines and no well tanks.  These dilapidated houses may have been empty nearly a hundred years.
            I find myself wondering who lived there.  None of these places could be more than twenty by twenty, many smaller, probably with one or two rooms, three at the most.  Kitchens were often on the back porch because of the heat and humidity in this area; families bathed in wash tubs in the kitchen or on the back porch, and outhouses were the plumbing of the day.  Did a young couple raise a family there?  In those days, they often had as many as nine or ten children.  When it rained they all had to play inside! 
            And when it rained the roof leaked.  When the winter wind blew, it seeped in between the board or log walls.  And no telling what might crawl in through the cracks in the floor boards—if there was even a floor.  Yet I know happy families lived there, and good citizens grew up from such poverty.  I know some of those elderly people and they talk of those days with a lot of smiles and chuckles.
            Yet here I sit, complaining because sometimes on a clear, still day in the country your electricity goes out for no apparent reason, and if the wind blows at all you can count on it.  No electricity means no air conditioning and no well pump.  Whenever a new neighbor moves in between me and the highway, the phone company will inevitably cut my line when they put in the new one.  And I don’t have a thing to wear!  Well, if I lost ten pounds I might.  I wonder if those folks who lived in that shack had enough food to even worry about getting too heavy. 
            These little shacks are reminders to me to be grateful for what I have, and not to covet the material blessings of another.  I can be happy anywhere.  I can raise godly children anywhere.  I can make a good marriage anywhere.  I can be a child of God no matter where I live or how.  But no mansion on earth will make me happy if that is all I care about. 
 
Godliness with contentment is great gain, for we brought nothing into this world for neither can we carry anything out; but having food and covering we shall with that be content. 1 Tim 6:6-8.
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.

Growing up, I thought of the Passover Feast as a memorial primarily of God's mercy.  God sent the Angel of Death to punish the wicked, and the righteous marked themselves by putting blood on the doorposts of their houses.  When the Angel saw the blood, he passed over that house, sparing those inside.  The Passover feast would therefore be a quiet feast, a somber feast commemorating God's great, and undeserved, mercy.
            Reading through the Hallel Psalms (113-118), which were traditionally sung at the Passover feast, shows us that the ancient Hebrews saw this feast very differently.  The Passover feast was a time to rejoice, a time to remember a great victory and to praise God for a great salvation.  For example, Ps. 116 begins in verse three, “The cords of death compassed me and the gates of Sheol got hold of me.”  Then the writer records their plea for help, and we see God’s response in verses 5-8.  “Gracious is Jehovah and righteous, Yea our God is merciful.  Jehovah preserves the simple:  I was brought low, and he saved me.  Return unto thy rest, O my soul, For Jehovah hath dealt bountifully with thee.  For thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears.”  Verses 12-13 praise God for his salvation. 
            Psalm 118 is nothing but a paean to God for the victory he brings.  “Out of my distress I called upon Jehovah, Jehovah answered and set me in a large place,” verse 5.  Verses 10-13 speak of being surrounded by enemies, but easily destroying them, “They compassed me about like bees; they are quenched as the fire of thorns:  In the name of Jehovah I will cut them off,” verse 12.  God is joyfully praised throughout this Psalm for the salvation he brings to his people. 
            Psalm 114 portrays the almost arrogant boasting of a people who had just escaped from generations of slavery because their God had set them free.  God was on their side, they knew it, and who could stand in their way?
            So it is obvious that the Passover was more than a solemn dinner, it was a joyous feast celebrating the wonderful victory God had wrought to free his people from bondage to the Egyptians.   It was not a memorial to not being killed; it was a celebration of being set free to live!
 
            Sometimes we turn the Lord's Supper into the same solemn, somber feast I had mistaken the Passover for.  We huddle soberly and focus on the horrible suffering Christ went through on our behalf.  We literally bow under the burden of guilt, knowing it was our sins for which he died.  The Lord's Supper thereby becomes a sad, almost depressing reminder of the monumental sacrifice our Lord made for us when we did not deserve it, not even a little.
            Wait a moment!  The Lord's Supper was built out of the Passover feast.  That's what Christ and his Apostles were eating when he instituted the new feast.  Christ was declared to be our Passover in 1 Corinthians 5.  Our feast ought to resemble the celebration we have just learned about, should it not?  Just like the ancient Hebrews, we were enslaved to a horrible enemy, in our case sin.  Just like them, the gates of Sheol had hold of us.  As we were being overwhelmed, God sent his Son to work an awesome salvation.  Instead of being freed from slavery we have been freed from sin and the paralyzing fear of death.  The Hebrews writer calls God's efforts on our part a “great salvation.” (Heb 2:3)  Paul revels in our victory over death in 1 Cor. 15: 53-57 “For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality.  But when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written, 'Death is swallowed up in victory.'  'O death, where is thy victory?  O death, where is thy sting?'  The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law, but thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” 
            Isn't it obvious that our Passover feast should be a jubilant celebration, just as the shadow feast of the Old Law was?  Our God, through his great love for us, had mercy on us, sacrificed his Son for us, and defeated all our enemies.  We stand clean from the filth of our sin due to the magnitude of this victory.  As the psalmist boasts in 118:6, “Jehovah is on my side, I will not fear.  What can man do to me?”  Or Paul in Romans 8:31, “If God is for us, who can be against us?” 
            Instead of continually mourning our old ways of life that made God and Christ's sacrifice necessary, let us rather rejoice and celebrate the new life we are privileged to live because God won so great a victory.
 
For I through the law died unto the law, that I might live unto God.  I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I that live, but Christ lives in me: and that life which I now live in the flesh I live in faith, the faith which is in the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself up for me (Gal 2:19-20).
 
For God appointed us not unto wrath, but unto the obtaining of salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, that, whether we wake or sleep, we should live together with him (1 Thess 5:9-10).
 
the mystery which hath been hid for ages and generations: but now hath it been manifested to his saints, to whom God was pleased to make known what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory (Col 1:26-27).
 
Keith Ward

I wish I had a dollar for every hour I have sat in waiting rooms in the past five years, especially at the eye clinic.  I had a 3:30 appointment once, and finally saw the doctor at 7 pm.  Then there was the time we discovered that I needed an emergency procedure.  My appointment had been at 11:00.  I was finally pronounced fit to leave at 5:30. 
            The shortest amount of time I have ever spent at the clinic is two hours.  Sometimes the doctor is overbooked because he has critical patients who simply must be seen that day; I have been one of those patients.  Sometimes he runs late because an emergency arrives that must be worked in; I have been one of those emergencies.  I can hardly complain when someone does it to me.
            Yet, even the night I had to wait until 7:00, I never doubted that I would be seen.  I have never worried that someone would forget I was there and the doctor would leave.
            It makes no sense to doubt God either.  Sometimes we must wait a long time for the answer to a prayer, but it will come.  Sometimes we must endure a trial far longer than we ever expected, but He has not forsaken us.  How long did those faithful Jews wait for their Messiah?  I have never waited that long for God, have you?
            The world thinks that because the promised second coming has not happened in 2000 years it won’t happen at all.  They think that proves God doesn’t even exist, completely ignoring the evidence of His existence all around them.  That makes about as much sense as me deciding my doctor doesn’t exist because I have been sitting here waiting for three hours now, and my fellow patient in the next seat has waited four.
            My doctor is worth the wait.
            If ever anyone was worth a longer wait, it’s God.
 
Knowing this first, that in the last days mockers shall come with mockery, walking after their own lusts, and saying, Where is the promise of his coming? For, from the day that the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation. For this they willfully forget, that there were heavens from of old, and an earth compacted out of water and amidst water, by the word of God; by which means the world that then was, being overflowed with water, perished: but the heavens that now are, and the earth, by the same word have been stored up for fire, being reserved against the day of judgment and destruction of ungodly men. But forget not this one thing, beloved, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.  The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some count slackness; but is longsuffering to you-ward, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance, 2 Pet 3:3-9.
 
Dene Ward

Do a little research and you will find that the term “comfort food” was added to Webster’s Dictionary in 1972.  It refers to foods that are typically inexpensive, uncomplicated, and require little or no preparation at all; foods which usually bring pleasant associations with childhood, just as an old song can remind one of a long ago romance, or a smell can instantly bring back situations both good and bad. 
            Comfort foods vary from culture to culture, but in our country usually include things like macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, fried chicken, ice cream, peanut butter, and brownies.  Folks tend to use comfort foods to provide familiarity and emotional security, or to reward themselves.  It’s not surprising that many of these are loaded with carbohydrates which can produce a soporific effect as well.  Comfort food followed closely by the comfort of sleep.
            Since it became fashionable I have tried to figure out my own list of comfort foods. Here is my problem:  my mother was such a good cook and so adventurous, trying many recipes day after day, that I never had one dish often enough to form an attachment to it.  One cooking magazine actually runs the column, “My Mother’s Best Meal.”  I could not possibly pick one.  I would need a whole page to list them.  So for me it isn’t comfort food, it’s comfort cooking.  When my mind is in turmoil, I cook all day long, trying, I suppose, to recreate the warm, homey, safe atmosphere of my mother’s kitchen.
            Comfort food works for the soul too.  The best part is, you don’t have to be a good cook.  You just open the word of God and feast.  You turn on the water of life and drink to your heart’s content.  You produce the fruit of the lips in praise to God whenever and wherever you desire.  You gather with your brothers and sisters and wallow in a fellowship that has absolutely nothing to do with coffee and donuts.
            You can get fatter and fatter with all that spiritual nourishment and still be healthy.  In fact, in this context at least, the skinnier you are, the sicker, the sadder, and the weaker you are.
            So grab a spoon today, and everyday, and dig in.
 
Work not for the food which perishes, but for the food which abides unto eternal life, which the Son of man shall give unto you: for him the Father, even God, has sealed, John 6:27.
 
Dene Ward

I taught piano lessons (and later added voice lessons) for over 35 years.  By the time I had to quit due to my eye problems, I had a full studio with a two year waiting list.  My students participated in three competitions a year, and no less than four joint recitals, depending upon their ages and their pieces.  At the end of the year, we had what I billed as "the Spring Program," because most people considered recitals "boring" and our programs were anything but.  We put on a show and we had fun.  And afterward I handed out sometimes as many as 20 awards, including some state competition trophies.  Yes, it was a very big deal in our lives.
            "Our lives" because my boys were part of it.  I taught them both.  Lucas went on to focus on voice and theory, while Nathan stayed with the piano.  It's always satisfying to see your children follow in your footsteps.  One day Nathan and I sat down and sightread duets for a half hour or so.  I don't know about him, but I had a blast.  He had grown and learned enough that we could share on an equal footing, a truly exhilarating experience.
            And now, thanks to seeing Daddy play at home, my grandson Silas has started piano lessons.  Last spring I went to his first recital.  He had wowed me all morning, playing a hands-moving-together piece at a difficulty that no 6 year old student of mine had ever reached—with only 8 months of piano under his belt.  We not only practiced his piece, but his bow as well. (Any of my old students reading this will understand.)  And so we all went to the auditorium and sat four rows from the front while he walked up to the grand piano and played his piece.  Perfectly.  With the classiest bow of the evening.  Just last week he did the same thing, this year playing three pieces—perfectly with an almost professional bow.
            I couldn't stop smiling.  And I also couldn't stop the tears from welling in my eyes.  Somehow I managed to get them under control before he saw them, and I gave him a huge hug.  "I am very proud," I said.  "You have made me very happy."
            As proud and happy as I was that day, there are a few other things that would make me even happier.  I doubt I even have to list them.  You know exactly what I am talking about because you wish them for your children and grandchildren too.
            I still help Silas with his piano practice.  With a new piece I often play the left hand while he plays the right, and then we swap places.  By then he can manage to put both hands together himself.  I still help with the theory homework, clapping out rhythms and asking questions that lead him to the right answers.
            But more often than that, we talk about Bible characters, narratives and principles.  We talk about God.  We pray together and sing together.  We memorize verses and recite them together.  Doesn't he get this from his parents?  Of course he does, but the more he gets from more different people—especially people who mean something to him—the more it will mean to him, and the better it will stick.  Just like his Grandma and Daddy playing the piano.
            That first recital was wonderful.  But a first public prayer, a first sermon, and of course, the first commitment--when the time is right--will be even better.
 
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children's children, to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments. (Ps 103:17-18)
 

In the past year I have heard of several who have found the Lord's body by remembering things from long ago.  Some of them were good memories about a group of God's people and others not so good, but both kinds had them searching out the Truth and they wound up finding it, obeying the gospel or coming back to the Lord, whichever fit the occasion.  Seeds planted long ago finally germinated, which reminded me instantly of I planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase (1Cor 3:6).  Again and again I remind myself to just plant the seed and don't worry about the results; that part isn't my business.
            All of that made me wonder why we so constantly judge a preacher or teacher's efforts by the numbers.  Is it really fair, when his part is to plant or water?  If you want to count the numbers, you should be counting how many he preached to, not how many times the water splashed.  That's what the inspired writer Paul said.
            Sometimes you can teach your heart out only to see a class steadily shrink in size.  You can invite everyone in your neighborhood to come hear the gospel, knock on doors until your knuckles chafe, and speak to every waiter, cashier, or repairman, and never see any of them show up on Sunday morning.  If you planted the seed, you did what you were supposed to do.  Sometimes it takes a while to sprout.  In fact, you may not live long enough to see those tiny green leaves push up through the ground.  Sometimes that's just the way it works.
            We must stop judging by the numbers, by how many have been baptized and how much the membership has grown numerically.  There may well be other growth going on that is not quite so obvious but healthy for the kingdom just the same.  When we do judge by numerical results, just who are we judging?  I think the Book says we are judging God.  After all, He is the one who gives the increase.  I am not real sure I would want to be standing in those shoes!
 
For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it (Isa 55:10-11).
 
Dene Ward
 

Once, long ago and far away, I answered a knock at the door and found an FBI agent on my doorstep.  He had not made a mistake; he had indeed found the address he was looking for.  And why would a federal agent be looking for us? 
            About a week before, we had received a letter in the mail.  It bore no return address and when we opened it, we found a hand printed letter full of foul language and tons of misspelled words and bad grammar.  I will always remember the last line of that letter:  "If you don't get out of town, I will burn you out."
          We took it to the postmaster of the small town where we lived and, because sending a threatening letter in the US Mail is a federal crime, he called the FBI.  And that is why the agent knocked on our door that morning.  He had come from a larger town about 30 miles away. No warning—we had no idea he was coming, but that might have been a strategical move. 
           We spent about a half hour answering questions:  who we were, what we did, if we had any known enemies.  When he discovered that Keith was a preacher, his attitude seemed to soften a bit.  He began pointing out things in the letter that I, young and inexperienced, had not even noticed.  The misspellings and bad grammar were inconsistent.  The same word was misspelled a different way later in the letter.  One time the writer said, "isn't" and the next time "ain't." 
        "I really think it is someone trying to disguise himself because it is someone you know," he finally said.
         He eventually apologized as he left.  His hands were tied unless someone actually made an attempt to harm us or succeeded in doing so, especially since we had no idea who it might be.  We were supposed to call if anything happened, or we received another threat of any kind via any method.
            It happened to be a Wednesday.  That night we went to Bible study and Keith began talking about the letter.  Then he mentioned the federal agent who had come to our door, "Because sending threats in the mail is a federal crime, you know."  Most people crowded around to hear the story and expressed horror that we had received something like that.  We made sure they knew the letter was counted as evidence in the case and was still in the agent's hands.
           We never received another letter, phone call, or threat of any sort while we lived there.  Of course we cannot prove it, but we think someone in the church had his toes stepped on and was trying to run us off.  We wonder if we were making progress with some and that others were afraid their sins would be uncovered.
          "But," you say, astounded, "would a Christian really stoop so low as to issue what could be taken as a murder threat?"
           Just who was it who plotted to kill Jesus?  The very religious leaders who should have recognized who he was and followed him—scribes, Pharisees, priests.  When people do not like your message, they will go farther than even they would have ever imagined to get rid of the messenger.  We have been lied about more than once.  We have been kicked out precisely because of what was preached—it wasn't even denied. 
          How did "Hosanna" become "Crucify him" in a week's time?  Corrupt leadership, the Lord's demand for commitment, humility, and sacrifice, refusal to see the true nature of the kingdom, and a mob mentality that always strays far from the personal ethics one claims.
           Any of us can fall prey to this.  It's hard to hear that we need to change.  It's difficult to face up to our sins.  It's challenging to realize we have faulty expectations of the Lord and what He expects of us.  It's tough realizing you have been wrong about something your entire life.  The devil will take your heart and twist it to the point that you won't even see the wrong you are doing in retaliation.
          Whoever sent that threatening letter got a rude awakening when he found out the FBI was involved and he could go to prison for what he had done.  There is a far worse imprisonment than that when we blame the Message on the messenger.  Getting rid of him won't change your stance before your Maker.
 
“You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you always resist the Holy Spirit. As your fathers did, so do you. Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute? And they killed those who announced beforehand the coming of the Righteous One, whom you have now betrayed and murdered, you who received the law as delivered by angels and did not keep it.” (Acts 7:51-53)
 
Dene Ward
           

I remember those exciting mornings when, as a child, our parents woke us for an early start on a vacation trip.  It was dark and, even though it was summer in Florida, cool and damp.  Those were pre-seat belt days and often I would be carried straight out of bed and laid on the back seat, while my little sister got the back window.  Then we drove for several hours before the light finally woke us and we stopped for breakfast.
            We didn’t do much in the way of vacations—we couldn’t afford them.  Usually they were visits to distant family.  My parents left early so we had more driving time and avoided a motel bill, but those trips were still exciting.  We could not afford weekends away or trips to resorts or amusement parks, so any sort of trip was special.  And that breakfast out was special too because it was rare.  But we weren’t unusual—everyone lived that way.  Rising early for something that special was common to us all.
            We still have things we rise early for—work, school, a hunting trip, tailgating before a ball game, Black Friday, and yes, even leaving early for a vacation.  But do we ever rise up early for God?  Did you know that one of the hardest things for people to give up is their Sunday mornings?  At least it would seem that way when they skip the Bible study hour or at best swarm in at the last minute so they can get every extra minute possible of sleep.
            We are not living up to our heritage.  God’s people have always risen early to pray, to meditate, to worship.  Abraham (Gen 19:27), Jacob (Gen 28:18), Moses (Ex 24:4), and Job (1:5) all rose early to make sacrifices and meet with God.  Elkanah and his family rose early to travel to the tabernacle for the feast days (1 Sam 1:19).  Jesus rose early to go to the Temple (John 8:2) and so did the crowds who went to hear him.  It may not have been early when Jesus went to pray, but it was by the time he finished, having “prayed all night” (Luke 6:12). 
            The psalmist woke early to pray.  My eyes are awake before the watches of the night, that I may meditate on your promise. (Ps 119:148).  The Jews recognized three night watches, beginning at sunset the night before and ending at dawn the next morning.  It may have been a bit hyperbolic but if not, he evidently awoke before each one began just to pray.  How many times have you or I ever interrupted our sleep to pray as often as that?  How many times have we done it even once?
            Obviously, their prayers and their worship meant a lot to those faithful people.  Neither was viewed as a duty, but as a privilege and a pleasure, just as much a pleasure as that long awaited vacation trip that has us up and at it and ready to go before dawn.
             More than that, we should be gratefully rising early to serve a God who rose early to save us.  And now, because you have done all these works, says Jehovah, and I spoke unto you, rising up early and speaking, but you heard not; and I called you, but you answered not: (Jer 7:13)  Those words to a faithless people can apply to us too.
          Maybe the problem isn’t attitude, but a simple lack of preparation.  Maybe Saturdays should not be for wearing ourselves out and staying up late.  Maybe they should be, at least a little bit, about preparation for our worship together on Sunday mornings.  God went to a lot of trouble to prepare things for us.  It seems a small thing to ask to prepare ourselves physically and mentally for Him at least one day a week.
 
And…evening had come, since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath, (Mark 15:42).
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer, Matt Bassford.

I’m a simple man. I believe that the Bible is the inspired word of God and that it is sufficient to equip us for every good work. My favorite hymn is “Give Me the Bible”. Consequently, whenever I encounter a problem that afflicts the soul, I presume that the solution lies in learning and following the whole counsel of God.

This also leads me to raise an eyebrow when I see brethren coming up with extra- Biblical cures for spiritual ailments. The phenomenon occurs in several different areas, but it is perhaps most prominent in brotherhood teaching on marriage and family. Though marriage counseling based on secular wisdom varies greatly in quality, all of it pales in comparison to the word of God. If Christians want to treat such counseling as a side dish, fine, but they must not mistake it for the main course.

That main course consists of all Biblical teaching about human relationships. Too often, we behave as though the only texts about marriage are the ones that mention marriage: Ephesians 5:22-33, 1 Peter 3:1-7, and the like. Indeed, this apparent paucity of Scriptural material becomes justification for the use of material from elsewhere. We can't just go on preaching the same three marriage sermons, can we?

For those with eyes to see, the list of relevant passages is far longer. In fact, thousands of verses of Biblical ethics apply with greatest force in our marriages. If we can't seem to manage treating our spouses in a Christlike way, it calls into question the sincerity of our godliness in every other area of our lives. James would ask us if the same spring can send forth both sweet and bitter water. A bad marriage is a fundamental and potentially soul-destroying problem for at least one spouse.

Sadly, Christians in difficult marriages commonly use this truth as an opportunity to pin all the blame on the other spouse. I suspect that most of the time, brethren go to marriage counseling because they want to get their partner fixed. Almost always, they try DIY counseling and berate their husband or wife for perceived failings.

This is exactly backwards and dangerous besides. Christ does not call us to control others. He calls us to submit to His control.

He also warns us in Luke 6:37-38 that according to our standard of measure, it will be measured to us. We are on notice, then, that if we harshly judge our spouses, God will treat us the same way, only more so. Thus, unless we are James’ hypothetical perfect person, able to bridle both our tongues and our bodies, our desire to improve our marriages amounts to the familiar call to improve ourselves.

At this, thousands of voices cry out in outrage, “But what about them???” What about them, indeed? Conveniently, the Bible gives us instructions for how to handle a spouse who is not merely engaged in questionable behavior but is clearly and actively sinning. They appear in 1 Peter 3:1.

The way for a wife to win over a disobedient husband is by submission and godly living, all without a critical word being spoken. It is the way, not an occasional break from a campaign of nagging. Neither does this text exist to provide moral cover for a well-I-tried-that refusal to obey in the present and future. The passage addresses women specifically, but it is excellent advice for men as well.

Along similar lines, consider the relevance of Philippians 2:14 to marriage. It is one of the shocking verses in the Bible. Surely when Paul says, “Do all things without grumbling or disputing,” he is using hyperbole! He doesn't actually mean for us to do that!

It is not hyperbole. It is a commandment, and its edge is sharp. If you want a better marriage, you know what you can do? Don't dispute with your spouse. If they invite you to a fight, decline the invitation. Don't grumble to your spouse. Don't grumble about your spouse. If you obey, your marriage will be better, if only because it will contain less shouting.

There are many, many other passages with equally sharp edges that concern our marriages too. They are not easy to follow. In fact, they are quite difficult, which is why many Christians do not honor them. It is, alas, much easier to complain that our husband or wife is toxic, narcissistic, and gaslighting us.

Additionally, even if we do what is right, our godliness is not guaranteed to win over our spouse. Some Christians are married to people with hearts like rock. They will stubbornly pursue evil all the days of their lives to their ultimate destruction. If so, nothing we can do will change them.

We do not imitate Christ because it is effective in influencing others, though it is more effective than anything else. We imitate Him because it is right. Even if godliness does not lead to a better marriage, it invariably leads to glorifying God. When we are tested in our marriages, may He help us to steadfastly seek Him regardless!

Matt Bassford