This past summer we had a Bible class about God.  I bet you are sitting there thinking, “A Bible class about God?  What else would it be about?”

            Not what you think, I promise.  We often chide the Israelites for putting God in a box, either when they treated the Ark of the Covenant like a magic charm, or when they thought that as long as God dwelt in the large ornate box they called a Temple, they could do as they wished.  The prophets are full of sermons teaching them otherwise.

            But we often put God in another kind of box—our miniscule ability to understand Him.  We define him by the “omni” words and think we have it down.  But even those “omni” words put limitations on God.  We come across a verse like Gen 22:12, “for now I know that you fear God,” and suddenly find ourselves having to explain away a clear statement of scripture to make it fit our preconceived notions.

            So this class was about, not those “omni” words, but clear statements of scripture about God, many of them God’s very own words.  The brother teaching this class is a respected scholar in our congregation.  He regularly comes up with things you never saw before, even though you have read that verse a thousand times.  He would also not like for me to plaster his name on all the blog posts he has inspired from me (I asked and he firmly refused), but anyone who knows him, knows exactly who I am talking about.

            Many times, even though these were indeed familiar verses we were studying in the class, I found myself floundering around in the deep water desperately searching for a life preserver.  I am certain you would love for me to share those times.  But probably you are like me, much more comfortable splashing, not exactly in the shallows but somewhere closer to shore, and trust me, these “shallows” are plenty deep.  In fact, you may never have ventured this far out before.  Over the next few Mondays I will try to share a few portions of those lessons.  Grab your inner tube and come along with me.
 
O LORD, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O LORD, you know it altogether. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. ​Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it. Ps 139:1-6
 
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

1 Kings 14 tells of Jeroboam sending his wife to Ahijah, the prophet of God, to ask whether his son would recover from an illness.  Shortly before, another prophet had condemned Jeroboam’s unauthorized methods of worshipping God and prophesied the end of his kingdom, but Ahijah was the one who had foretold his taking of the northern kingdom from Solomon’s dynasty.  Ahijah would certainly give him a better prediction, he must have thought.

            Yet what did he do?  Ahijah was old and could not see well.  (Perhaps he had cataracts.)  Still, Jeroboam told his wife to disguise herself.  He told her to take gifts to the prophet.  Surely he must have felt some trepidation to take such measures.  But think how ridiculous those precautions were.  If he believes that Ahijah is a prophet of the God who controls all, how will this prophet not know who is standing before him?  Sin can make you do stupid things.

            And sure enough, when Ahijah heard the sound of her feet, as she came in at the door, he said, "Come in, wife of Jeroboam. Why do you pretend to be another?” 14:6.

            The scriptures tell other tales of people trying to disguise themselves—Saul when he went to the necromancer at Endor, and Jacob seeking the blessing of his father Isaac, among them.  But in every case, God knows who is standing before him and his purpose is fulfilled. 

            We often act like we are better than those foolish people, but, sadly, that is not the case.  It isn’t just the obvious cases we often mention—Sunday morning Christians who seem to think that God will not know what happens the rest of the week, pew sitters whose worship is only in form while their hearts are elsewhere, the disobedient and presumptuous who think that as long as they sing loud and pray long that their deviation from God’s commands won’t matter.  Sometimes we try to hide behind other methods of anonymity.  It’s an easy thing to do these days.

            When you talk to someone on the phone, it’s easy to be someone else isn’t it?  It’s easy to say hard things because you aren’t looking someone in the eye, maybe even because they are out of arm’s reach.  When you write a letter it’s easy to go on a tirade—no interruptions, no one to gasp at your audacity or become angry at your hyperbolic accusations.  When you sit behind the steering wheel, the other guy can’t hear you curse him.  It’s easier to blast away on the horn or do unto him as he did unto you because that tinted glass gives you a feeling of security and facelessness. 

            Be careful that you don’t do just as Jeroboam did and forget that there is no anonymity with God.  There is no rationalizing with him either—he can see right through your excuses just like he can phone lines, mailboxes, and windshields.  He sees every tyrant in the letter, every harridan over the phone, and every bully behind the wheel.

            What he had rather see is our doing right.  Nineteen times in the Old Testament I found the phrase “he did right in the eyes of God.”  Jesus told us we should give in secret, pray in our rooms, and do our best not to let others know when we are fasting for religious purposes (Matt 6).  Just as God will see the wrong we try to hide, he will see the good we don’t brag about—one just as easily as the other.  Give him something nice to look at today.
 
The eyes of the LORD are in every place, keeping watch on the evil and the good, Prov 15:3.       Dene Ward

We have always shared our garden produce.  We have never had a lot of disposable income, but every summer we have extra beans, peas, squash, cucumbers, corn, cantaloupes, okra, peppers, tomatoes, and melons.  Every trip into services includes handing out bag after bag after bag of whatever we are inundated with that week.

            Once we gave a friend a bag of fordhooks.  Knowing she was a city girl, we did not do so without instructions.

            “You will need to shell them tonight, or if you must wait until tomorrow, then spread them out on newspapers.”

            A week or so later we asked her how she liked the beans.  Her red face and downcast eyes told the story before she said a word.

            “I left them in the bag overnight on the kitchen table and they soured and sprouted.  I’m so sorry.  I thought you were just exaggerating.”

            Yes, we still speak and are still good friends.  In fact, she is not the only one who has ignored our instructions and lost good produce as a result.  All these people help me understand a couple of verses in the book of Hebrews.

            And to whom swore he that they should not enter into his rest, but to them that were disobedient? And we see that they were not able to enter in because of unbelief. Heb 3:18-19

            In one verse, the Hebrew writer accuses the Israelites in the wilderness of disobedience and in the next of unbelief.  To him they were one and the same, and my disbelieving non-gardening friends prove the point.  When you do not believe what you are told, you will not do what you are told.

            Now granted, Keith and I are just ordinary people who might possibly be wrong, but you would think that forty years’ gardening experience would make us at least a little credible.

            And certainly God should have been credible to people who saw Him send the ten plagues, part the Red Sea, send water gushing out of a rock, and rain manna night after night.  But people always have an excuse if they do not want to obey.

            “It can’t be that important.”
            “God doesn’t care about such a little thing.”
            “God is merciful and loving.”
            “After all, I have done so many good things.  That ought to count more than this.”

            And so they deceive themselves into believing that the beans won’t spoil.  And their unbelief becomes disobedience, something God has never tolerated for an instant.

            Believe it!
 
For good news came to us just as to them, but the message they heard did not benefit them, because they were not united by faith with those who listened. Let us therefore strive to enter that rest, so that no one may fall by the same sort of disobedience. Heb 4:2,11
 
Dene ward

Hiking can be precarious these days.  My trekking poles usually keep me upright on difficult terrain, but they don’t fix everything.

            The last time we hiked the Juniper Creek Trail in the panhandle I did very well.  Lucas was camping with us for the first time in 16 years and I was happy to show off my new ability to keep a decent pace without tripping and falling.

            The path was narrow and covered with the roots of the trees that sheltered it.  I had to keep my eyes on the ground to keep from tripping on one or turning an ankle.  I wore my pink camping cap with the visor pulled low to block not only the sun but the glare of the clear, blue, noonday sky.  You never knew when a ray would filter through the tree canopy and these eyes just cannot take it any longer, even in winter. 

            I was determined not to slow the guys down and motored along at a pretty good clip.  All of a sudden I ran headlong into a low tree limb.  Whack!  I hit it so hard I nearly fell down.  When you can see well and your eyes can handle the sunlight, you look up occasionally, so the guys assumed I would see a limb a good four inches in diameter, and I would have if I had been looking at something besides my feet!

            No damage.  Evidently I am as hard-headed as some people accuse, and the swelling knot on my forehead was high enough above my eye not to threaten it either.  I didn’t even bruise, which is amazing considering that it still hurt a week later.

            Sometimes we get too focused on one area and forget the rest.  The Pharisees had that problem.  “You strain out a gnat and swallow a camel,” Jesus told them in Matt 23:34.  They were so focused on the little parts of the Law that they overlooked the bigger parts.  Some of them were the same ones who refused to put Judas’s flung-back money in the Temple treasury because it was “blood money,” but had no trouble seeking false witnesses against Jesus and manipulating the Roman government to murder him for them (Matt 27:6).  Single-minded focus can warp your vision in ways you would never have believed possible.

            Sometimes we focus too hard on keeping the rules and forget to show mercy and kindness.  That doesn’t mean keeping the rules is wrong.  If I had tripped over a root in the path, I might have been badly hurt, even a bone broken, but because I was only careful in one area, I made a misstep in another, and the same is true of anyone who fails to keep their eyes open to everything around them.

            How do we treat our neighbors?  Do we use the excuse that since they are unbelievers we don’t need to help them?  How do we greet visitors?  Do only those in good standing with another congregation get the handshakes and invitations to Sunday dinner?  How do we act during the week?  Are we careful to cross all the T’s and dot all the I’s on Sunday, then forget “the weightier matters of the Law, justice and mercy and faith” (Matt 23:23), in our dealings with others the rest of the week?

            Be sure to watch where you are going when you travel the road as a follower of Christ.  Sometimes the path is treacherous with roots and rocks.  But don’t get so caught up with your footing that you forget to watch your head—and your heart!
 
 Oh that my ways were established to observe your statutes!  Then shall I not be put to shame, when I have respect unto all your commandments, Psalm 119:5,6.
 
Dene Ward

 
O LORD, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not hear? Or cry to you “Violence!” and you will not save? ​Why do you make me see iniquity, and why do you idly look at wrong? Destruction and violence are before me; strife and contention arise. ​So the law is paralyzed, and justice never goes forth. For the wicked surround the righteous; so justice goes forth perverted. Hab 1:2-4

            Who among God’s people has not cried out to God these past few years something akin to the above?  Who hasn’t wondered why God doesn’t change things, why He doesn’t make Himself known in such an obvious way that this nation will once again become God-fearing and moral, a nation of strength and integrity and compassion?  Who hasn’t stood with Habakkuk and dared to ask why?

            If you have studied the prophets, you understand without a doubt that God has a hand in this world, absolute control of the nations and their politics.  And that hand has its own purposes, its own way of dealing with the wicked and their ways.  Sometimes those ways are indecipherable to us.

            “Look among the nations, and see; wonder and be astounded. For I am doing a work in your days that you would not believe if told. For behold, I am raising up the Chaldeans, that bitter and hasty nation, who march through the breadth of the earth, to seize dwellings not their own. They are dreaded and fearsome; their justice and dignity go forth from themselves… They all come for violence, all their faces forward. They gather captives like sand. At kings they scoff, and at rulers they laugh. They laugh at every fortress, for they pile up earth and take it. Then they sweep by like the wind and go on, guilty men, whose own might is their god!” Hab 1:5-11.

            God was sending a nation even more wicked than His own people to punish them.  How did that make sense, Habakkuk wanted to know.
And now, as mystified as Habakkuk, we are looking at the choices God has put in front of us this election eve, two different people who are ultimately alike:  “their own might is their god.”  Neither is a good choice.  Neither will lead this country back to God.  So what do we do?  This is what God told Habakkuk:

            And the LORD answered me: “Write the vision; make it plain on tablets, so he may run who reads it. For still the vision awaits its appointed time; it hastens to the end—it will not lie. If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay. “Behold, his soul is puffed up; it is not upright within him, but the righteous shall live by his faith. Hab 2:2-4.

            Have faith in me, He says.  I have made up my mind so accept it.  If you are arrogant, thinking you can handle this better than I can, if your motives are not upright, you will perish.  But the righteous man, the man who trusts me and obeys me with a pure heart, who doesn’t give up on me, he shall survive this.  It may not be easy, life may become difficult and even dangerous, but you show who you are when you stand and wait and trust me to know what I am doing.

            Do you know who will win this election?  I do, absolutely.  The one God wants in office will win.  Late tomorrow night His decision will be revealed.  It isn’t my business whether she or he deserves it.  My business is to trust God—He has a plan.  He does not need my opinion or my help.  He just wants me to be faithful no matter what because this world is not the one that matters anyway.  And more than that, no matter how bad things may get, and I do believe they will no matter who wins, he wants me to stand with his servant Habakkuk and say:

            Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, ​yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. Hab 3:17, 18.
 
Dene Ward

Cursed be the day on which I was born! The day when my mother bore me, let it not be blessed! Cursed be the man who brought the news to my father, “A son is born to you,” making him very glad. Let that man be like the cities that the LORD overthrew without pity; let him hear a cry in the morning and an alarm at noon, ​because he did not kill me in the womb; so my mother would have been my grave, and her womb forever great. ​Why did I come out from the womb to see toil and sorrow, and spend my days in shame? Jer 20:14-18.

               I can remember times when Keith knew he had to confront someone, either about their lives or their teaching.  I remember how quiet he became before he left the house, how pensive he looked, his inability to eat or laugh or even smile, and the amount of time he kept to himself in a back room with the door shut, praying. 
           
            A preacher’s job is not an easy one.  Look at Jeremiah in the passage above.  This man was vilified, threatened, imprisoned and virtually kidnapped all because he preached the message God sent him to preach.  And he knew what was coming—because it always has come since the days of Noah’s ridicule to now.  Especially now, when the world, and often the brethren, have deemed that the worst crime of all is to hurt someone’s feelings by telling him he is wrong. But a man who has dedicated himself to the Word of God cannot turn from his God-given mission.

            The Spirit lifted me up and took me away, and I went in bitterness in the heat of my spirit, the hand of the LORD being strong upon me. Ezek 3:14.  God told Ezekiel from the beginning that his was a hopeless task.  The people would not listen.  They would be “hard-headed,” and to help Ezekiel, He would make him just as stubborn as they.  But still he did not want to go.  He went “in bitterness of spirit.”  Yet this man, of all the prophets to God’s people, was probably the most successful.  Pay attention:  success does not make it any easier.  It was years before Ezekiel was respected by his countrymen, and then only after he was proven correct by the fulfillment of his prophecy.  In all the years before he was a nutcase, a lunatic, at best a fanatic who was woefully misled. 

            Amos was flat out told to leave.  “Go home, you country bumpkin and preach there.”  And Amos replies, “Hey!  This wasn’t my idea…”
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. But the LORD took me from following the flock, and the LORD said to me, ‘Go, prophesy to my people Israel.’ Amos 7:14-16a

            Of all places for God to send this unsophisticated southerner, the urban capital of the northern kingdom, where people lived in luxury and only listened to prophets who praised them really stretches the understanding.  But God knows what we need better than we do, and those folks needed a plain-spoken man of justice whose objectivity might possibly reach a few.

             So let me leave you with a couple of thoughts.

            When the preacher comes to see you, or when he simply preaches a tough sermon that steps on your toes, be kind.  He is not “out to get you.”  He does not want to hurt your feelings.  What he wants to do is obey His God and save both your soul and his.  It was not easy for him to say, or preach, what he did.  Give him the benefit of a doubt.  Appreciate what he went through before he even got there, and the fact that he cares enough about you to say anything at all.

            And remember—this isn’t just the preacher’s responsibility.  It’s yours too.  Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted. Gal 6:1.  If you are a child of God, you will be putting yourself on the line too.  Just remember what it cost you as you fulfilled the mission when the preacher stands in the pulpit.  He does it every Sunday, and every other day of the week when you are not even aware.
 
My brothers, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and someone brings him back, let him know that whoever brings back a sinner from his wandering will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins. Jas 5:19-20
 
Dene Ward

After reading them for so many years, I can skim a recipe and garner all sorts of necessary information in that quick once-over.  Not just whether I have the ingredients, but how long it will take, what I can do ahead of time, what equipment I will need, the substitutions I can make if necessary, and whether I can cut it in half or freeze half of it.  Sometimes, though, a recipe needs a closer reading.

            I made a vegetable lasagna once that turned out well, but was way too big.  I took over half of the leftovers to my women’s class potluck and it got rave reviews and several requests.  So I went home and started typing the two page recipe containing at least two dozen ingredients.  The typing required a careful reading of the recipe so I wouldn’t give anyone wrong amounts or directions, and as I did so I discovered that I had completely forgotten one ingredient and had missed one of the procedures.  Just imagine how good it would have been if I had done the whole thing correctly.

            Too many times we try to read the Bible like I read that recipe, especially the passages we think we already know.  I have said many times to many classes, the biggest hindrance to learning is what you think you already know.  Today I am going to prove it to you.

            Have you ever said, or even taught, that turning the water to wine was the first miracle Jesus ever did?  I know, it’s what all the Bible class curricula say.  Well, it’s your job to check out those lessons with your own careful reading.  Most of the time that means reading far beyond the actual lesson text.  This isn’t even hard to see, but you do have to think about what you see.  Some time today when you have the time—okay, make the time—read the following verses.
 
John 1:45-51—Jesus tells Nathanael that he saw him before it was possible for him to see him.  This was enough of a miracle that it brought a confession from Nathanael: “Rabbi, you are the Son of God, you are the King of Israel”, v 49.

2:11—“This is the first of his signs” (water to wine)

2:23—“Now when he was in Jerusalem at the Passover Feast, many believed on his name when they saw the signs that he was doing.” (Notice, this is an unknown number of signs,)

4:16-19—Jesus tells the woman at the well all about her life, a life he could not have known about except miraculously.  She would later tell her neighbors, “Come see a man who told me all that ever I did.  Can this be the Christ?” v 29.  She certainly thought she had seen a miracle.

4:46-54—Jesus heals the nobleman’s son, which John labels “the second sign that Jesus did.”  What about John 1?  What about 2:23?  What about Samaria?
 
            For years I read “first” and “second,” knowing full well about the other signs before and between them, and didn’t even think about what I was reading. I was reading it like a recipe, a quick once over because I already knew the story.  Now, having seen all the passages together, you can see that “first” and “second” in John 2:11 and 4:54 obviously do not mean the simple chronological “first” and “second” you might think at first glance.  You need the entire context of John to figure it out.

            Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name, John 20:30,31.  Right there John tells you not only why he wrote his book, but that he simply chose certain signs to discuss in detail.  If you do a careful study of the entire book, you will discover that he chose seven, each making a particular point about the power of Jesus that proves his Deity.  No, I am not going to list them for you.  You need to take up your Bibles and figure it out for yourself so you know firsthand.   

            When John says “This is the first,” and “this is the second,” he is simply referring to the list of seven he intends to discuss more fully.  Turning the water to wine was the first on his list, NOT the first miracle Jesus ever did, and all you have to do is read earlier in the book to see at least one more—Nathanael’s.  In fact, you cannot even count the number he did in between the “first” and the “second,” 2:23.

            So, be careful what you believe.  Be even more careful what you teach because that could affect many others.  Pay attention to the details and don’t pull events and verses out of context.  Do you want to know why so many false doctrines spread?  Because people read the “proof texts” like a recipe, a quick scan instead of a careful reading, if indeed they read them at all.

            Don’t skim the Word of God.  Give it the attention it deserves.     
 
And we have something more sure, the prophetic word, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts, 2 Pet 1:19.
 
Dene Ward

 
Come, we that love the Lord,
and let our joys be known;
join in a song with sweet accord,
join in a song with sweet accord
and thus surround the throne,
and thus surround the throne.
Chorus

We’re marching to Zion,
beautiful, beautiful Zion;
we’re marching upward to Zion,
the beautiful city of God.

Let those refuse to sing
who never knew our God;
but children of the heavenly King,
but children of the heavenly King
may speak their joys abroad,
may speak their joys abroad.

The hill of Zion yields
a thousand sacred sweets
before we reach the heavenly fields,
before we reach the heavenly fields,
or walk the golden streets,
or walk the golden streets.

Then let our songs abound,
and every tear be dry;
we’re marching through Emmanuel’s ground,
we’re marching through Emmanuel’s ground,
to fairer worlds on high,
to fairer worlds on high.

            We sang this song not long ago and I paid more attention to the words than ever before.  As a result I found so many new things in it that I sat there stunned and missed the first few minutes of the lesson that followed.  When I got home I did some research and found scripture references on a couple of websites that I might not have found all by myself.  But before we get to that, let’s build a foundation.

            We have been studying the prophets lately and have hung our interpretive hats on Hebrews 12:22-29.  In a day when the Messianic words of the prophets are construed every which way but the correct one, this passage can be a lifesaver.  Just read through it and you find that all of the following phrases are synonymous:  Mount Zion, the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, the general assembly and church of the firstborn, [those] whose names are written in heaven, the [unshakable] kingdom.  None of these things have to do with a millennium at the end of time—they are all Messianic in the prophets and occur now.  If we are faithful believers, we are these things.
 
           Now look at Psalm 137:  By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down and wept, when we remembered Zion. On the willows there we hung up our lyres. For there our captors required of us songs, and our tormentors, mirth, saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!” How shall we sing the LORD's song in a foreign land? If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill! Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth, if I do not remember you, if I do not set Jerusalem above my highest joy!
 
           This psalm is written of the exiles in Babylon.  Their despair is palpable.  They no longer have a country, much less a city.  Their temple on Mt Zion is in ruins. They have no king, no worship, no way to sacrifice to God or even try to keep the covenant if they were of a mind to—and many were not.  And so they gave up.  They hung up their lyres on the willow branches and sat down and cried.  They “refused to sing.”

            How many times have we done the same thing?  How many times have looked at the rampant sin around us and, instead of continuing to do our best, we not only quit but wallowed in our misery, complaining loud and long about the hopelessness of our situation?  How many times have we almost gleefully whined to one another—in Facebook posts by the score--about the perfidies that surround us and the moral turpitude of our culture?  Our delight is no longer in the law of the Lord but in recounting the iniquities of others. 
  
          But how can we keep singing?   The psalmist said if those exiles could not remember their own city of God, their own Mt Zion, their own Jerusalem, then let their fingers lose their musical skill and their tongues stick to the roofs of their mouths.  Is that what we want to happen to us?  Even your memories are enough to sing about, he told them.

            We still have plenty to sing about too, if “we love the Lord.”  We are “children of the heavenly king.”  We “know God.”  We have been given “a thousand sacred sweets” before we even get to Heaven—prayer, spiritual blessings, physical blessings, a spiritual family, and salvation, a beautiful world to live in and joyful occasions in our lives.  “Every tear” should be dry because we are “marching through Emmanuel’s ground”—“God with us”--a Lord who came and died for us, who acts as our high priest, who intercedes, who takes every care of ours on his shoulders.  And we want to sit by the waters of Babylon and cry?

            Shame on me if I do not “set [the heavenly] Jerusalem above my highest joy.”  Shame on me if I cannot sing this song with the unmitigated joy it deserves.
 
How lovely is your dwelling place, O LORD of hosts! My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the LORD; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God. Ps 84:1-2
 
Dene Ward

Two year old Silas has a funny way of asking us to put him down.  “Oh the down,” he says wistfully with a sigh that communicates far beyond his years.  If we don’t do it fast enough, he squirms to the point that we put him down in self-defense.  At nearly thirty pounds now, he is getting a little too heavy for this grandma to handle without his cooperation.  The eye surgeon probably wouldn’t be too happy either.

            I would hold him longer if he would let me.  I would hold him all day and all night.  I can’t get enough of holding him, in fact, but I don’t want to make him stay in my arms.  Holding a prisoner is not the same as holding a cherished grandchild.

            Too many folks have the wrong idea about the security of the believer.

            My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: and I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, and no one shall snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father's hand, John 10:27-29.

            As long as we stay in God’s hand, we are safe.  He will not allow us to be tempted more than we can stand.  He will give grace that not only forgives our sins, but helps us through the storms of life.  Nothing can separate us from the love of God, Paul reminds the Romans in 8:39.  There is your security of the believer.

            But God will hold no prisoners.  As soon as we start squirming, as soon as we wistfully sigh, “Oh the down,” he will let us go.  Unlike aging grandparents, he could hold on to us, but God wants a child who wants to be in his arms, not one who kicks and screams and begs to be let go. We will have no one to blame but ourselves if we lose our souls. 

            For if, after they have escaped the defilements of the world through the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, they are again entangled in them and overcome, the last state has become worse for them than the first. 2 Pet 2:20.
            You know what?  Many times after I put him down, Silas comes running back.  “Grandma!” he says with arms held up high, and I will pick him up gladly, even if my back does complain a bit.  There is yet another bit of security.  God will pick us up when we come back, eager to be held again in his loving arms.  It is entirely up to us whether we stay there.
 
Who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time, 1 Pet 1:5.
 
Dene Ward