Now that we have this wood floor, it seems I am sweeping all the time.  I simply can’t stand the sound or feel of sand under my feet when I walk in the house, and living in the country where there is no outside concrete for it to fall on beforehand, we track it in several times a day, despite door mats and runners.  Those treads on sneakers must surely have glue in them that wears off the moment you step indoors. 
 
           At least once a week I do “the clean sweep.”  I pull everything out, pick everything up, and sweep every square inch I can possibly get to, followed by the dry sweeping cloths that pick up things the broom missed, as well as all the dust bunnies under the beds and sofa.  The rest of the week I make do by “sweeping the middles”—every place I can reach without moving anything.  It isn’t perfect, as evidenced by what I sweep up on the day of “the clean sweep,” but it will do.  I really have more important things to do than clean the floors.

            I looked up “sweep” and “broom” in the concordance and found that God does not believe in “sweeping the middles.”  Three evil kings were told that God would “utterly sweep away their houses,” I Kgs 14:10; 16:3; 21:21.  Notice that word “utterly.”  In addition God said of Babylon, “And I will make it a possession of the hedgehog, and pools of water, and I will sweep it with the broom of destruction," Isa 14:23.  Do you want a good picture of how God sweeps?  Read the first chapter of Zephaniah.  God moves the furniture and gets under the beds when He decides to destroy sinners.

            So how do we avoid that?  By not just sweeping the middles when it comes to our lives.  We need to clean up every nook and cranny, every hidden corner of our minds, every space beneath the larger items in our lives that we think can hide the sin from God.  And grace means that after we do our best to clean the place up, God will come in to clean up what we could not, in the places we cannot reach. 

            When it comes to life, don’t ever be satisfied with just “sweeping the middles.”  Do “the clean sweep” every day of your life so you don’t get caught up in “the broom of destruction.”
 
I indeed baptize you in water unto repentance: but he that comes after me is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear: he shall baptize you in the Holy Spirit and fire: whose fan is in his hand, and he will thoroughly cleanse his threshing-floor; and he will gather his wheat into the garner, but the chaff he will burn up with unquenchable fire, Matt 3:11,12.
 
Dene Ward

Then Amos answered and said to Amaziah, “I was no prophet, nor a prophet's son, but I was a herdsman and a dresser of sycamore figs, Amos 7:14.
 
           Amaziah, the [false] priest at Bethel had just told Amos to go back to Judah.  They were tired of his scare tactics, what they viewed as rebellion against their king, Jeroboam II.  That is how we learn of Amos’s occupation.  While some view him as the owner of the sheep rather than the shepherd who actually slept outdoors watching his flock, you cannot get away from the humble position of fig picker.

            Sycamore figs (also spelled sycomore figs) were not the figs of the upper classes, but a smaller fruit, slightly sweet, watery, and a little woody.  This is what the poor people ate.  The only way a sycamore fig would ripen was for someone to pinch it, causing it to bruise.  About four days later it was fit to pick and eat.  Can you imagine anything much more tedious than pinching every single fruit on every single tree in an orchard?  Then going to the next orchard and doing it all again?  And again?

            As I was pondering this in our Tuesday morning class, I suddenly thought, “And isn’t that what happens to us?”  The only way for us to ripen as a disciple of our Lord is to be bruised.  In my ever increasing number of years, I have seen only those who reach their lowest point realize their need for God.  If I am proud, smug, self-reliant, self-righteous, all too sure of my own knowledge, I will never be able to prostrate myself before an Almighty Creator and commit my life, my belongings, MYSELF to Him.  I will never be able to take up the cross of self-denial and self-sacrifice and serve my Savior and my neighbor. 

            Some people have a stronger spiritual sense and can recognize their need for salvation quickly.  Their bruising is a bruising of the spirit that occurs when they recognize their sin and remorse hits them like that proverbial ton of bricks.  Others need a physical bruising.  You see it often when tragedy strikes—a serious illness, a devastating accident, the loss of a loved one.  A bruising in this physical life may be necessary for them to see the need in their spiritual lives.  I have often heard it said by preachers that the best time to reach your neighbor is in a time of tragedy, and the scriptures bear that out as well.

            Isaiah preached imminent destruction.  In the latter chapters of his book he tells those impenitent people that God will be waiting to take them back—not before the calamity, but afterward—after they have been bruised by a physical destruction the like of which they had never seen before.  That, after all, would be the time when they would finally listen.

            For thus says the One who is high and lifted up, who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: “I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite. ​For I will not contend forever, nor will I always be angry; for the spirit would grow faint before me, and the breath of life that I made. Because of the iniquity of his unjust gain I was angry, I struck him; I hid my face and was angry, but he went on backsliding in the way of his own heart. I have seen his ways, but I will heal him; I will lead him and restore comfort to him and his mourners, ​creating the fruit of the lips. Peace, peace, to the far and to the near,” says the LORD, “and I will heal him. Isa 57:15-19.

            Ezekiel says much the same:  I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I myself will make them lie down, declares the Lord GOD. I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak, and the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them in justice,  Ezek 34:15-16.

            And who does Jesus offer His invitation to:  Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke on you and learn from me, because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Matt 11:28-29.

            And so each of us must face our bruising.  The more quickly we yield, the easier that bruising will be, not because trials will cease, but because our humble hearts will accept both them and the help we will have to face them.  We won’t be alone any longer, a state of affairs that only comes to the stubborn, who refuse to surrender to Divine love and protection.  Sometimes it takes a “fig-pincher” to help with the process, someone who, like the prophet Nathan, can stand before us and proclaim, “Thou art the man.”  And like the sycamore fig, we will ripen into the fruitful child of God each of us has the potential to become.
 
He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint, Isa 40:29-31.
 
Dene Ward

My boys were typical boys.  They played outside more than in.  They had their own variations of football, baseball, and basketball for two players, or three when their dad was home.  They swam like fish, climbed trees, and traipsed through the woods exploring.  Since they have grown up, my hair has turned grayer and curled tighter listening to some of the things they did that I never knew about. 
 
           Their Dad encouraged them in their daring feats.  He wanted them to grow up to be strong men who would not flinch when a job needed doing, even if it was dirty, difficult, or a little scary. 

            I remember many times when he would hold out his arms and they would jump into them.  As they learned to swim, he stood out in the deeper water and they leapt as far as they could, with him reaching to pull them out before they went under for good.  Gradually he moved back farther and farther, and they were swimming to him before they realized it. 

            Once Lucas climbed a tree with a rotten limb.  He found out when the limb beneath his feet broke under him, leaving him hanging by the limb above, the bottoms of his feet a good twelve feet off the ground.  We were sitting nearby when we heard the crack and the “whump!” of the falling branch. 

            Keith walked over to see what he could do.  Nothing, as it turned out, except stand beneath his son to break the fall.  When he was certain he was in the right place, he told Lucas to let go, and he did, nothing doubting—and nothing broken on either of them when the whole thing was over.

            My sons never doubted their father.  If he told them to jump, they did.  If he told them to let go, they did.  They knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would catch them and keep them from harm.  Why can’t we have that same faith in God?  Keith could have made an error in judgment; he could have miscalculated what needed to be done to save his sons, or just missed when they jumped.  God can’t, and He won’t.

            How would you feel if your child told you he did not believe you would help him?  How would you feel if he showed absolutely no trust at all in your promises?  How do you think God feels when we do that to Him?

            It’s called a “leap of faith” because that is what it takes—faith.  When we won’t do it, we don’t have it.  It is as simple as that.  It has nothing to do with wisdom or good stewardship or common sense.  It simply means we don’t trust God enough to take care of us.  Sometimes what He asks of us seems foolish and impractical.  Those words mean nothing to Him, except to describe the people who think their own wits are better than His promises.  How foolish and impractical can you get?
 
For you are my lamp, O Jehovah; And Jehovah will lighten my darkness. For by you I run upon a troop; By my God do I leap over a wall. As for God, his way is perfect: The word of Jehovah is tried; He is a shield unto all them that take refuge in him. For who is God, save Jehovah? And who is a rock, save our God? 2 Sam 22:29-32.
 
Dene Ward