Today is a day for lovers, or so the merchandisers of the world say.  Do Keith and I do anything special?  You better believe it.  It’s usually nothing huge—a card, a homemade gift, a bouquet of handpicked wildflowers, a special dessert.  We don’t try to single-handedly support Madison Avenue.  Sometimes Keith simply takes the day off and we spend time together talking—what a novel idea, especially for some married folks!  Not because we celebrate some Catholic “saint” or because we feel pressured by society, but because we take every opportunity to revel in our love.  How do you think we have managed to put up with each other for all these years?

            Romance is not an un-Biblical concept.  While the description of the body in several passages in the Song of Solomon may not appeal to our Western ears, it is still used in the courtship rituals of some Eastern countries today.  The Proverb writer speaks of romance like this: There are three things which are too wonderful for me, yes, four which I do not understand:  the way of an eagle in the air, the way of a serpent upon a rock, the way of a ship in the middle of the sea, and the way of a man with a maid, 30:18-20. 

            The writer of Ecclesiastes tells us to live joyfully with the wife whom you love all the days of your life of vanity, which he has given you under the sun…for that is your portion in life, 9:9.  “Live joyfully” is an injunction; it is not passive.  Do not wait for it; initiate it yourself.  These passages were originally spoken to couples whose marriages were arranged.  Imagine what God expects of those of us who chose our own spouses after “falling in love.” 

            Two or three times a week as I clean out Keith’s lunchbox in the evening, I find red, heart-shaped love notes he has cut out of some office scrap paper and written—I know he has taken time out of a busy day to think of me.  And he usually calls during his lunch hour.

            Eating a nice dinner out is in our budget only a couple of times a year—and that is up from the early days of our marriage--but I can make a four course meal for two for the price of one entrée in an upscale restaurant, and enjoy doing it. Several times a year, we dress up, get out the china, light the candles, and have a meal I have worked on all day.  When the boys were little, I fixed them their own special meal—more along the lines of pizza than boeuf bourguignon--then explained how they could help mommy and daddy have a special time together by going to bed early, and staying there.  Besides the reward of their favorite meal, they could stay up late reading and talking to one another.  We occasionally heard thumps and giggles long after we would have ordinarily put a stop to it, but never once did they not fulfill their part of the bargain by interrupting us because we stressed to them how important their part was and they were thrilled to do it. 

            Marriage is a high maintenance relationship.  If you neglect it, it goes downhill in a hurry.  Do something today, no matter how small it may be—and whether or not the other one reciprocates--to keep that from happening.  Make sure it is something that will mean something to your spouse, not just to you!  Men and women are different that way (as if you hadn’t noticed).  Then choose another time to do it again—not just your anniversary or Valentine’s Day.  Do it sometimes for no good reason at all. Or isn’t keeping your marriage alive reason enough? 

            God expects you to romance one another.
 
Drink waters out of your own cistern, and running waters out of your own well.  Should your springs be dispersed abroad, and streams of water in the streets?  Let them be for yourself alone, and not for strangers with you.  Let your fountain be blessed and rejoice in the wife of your youth.  As a loving hind and a pleasant doe, let her breasts satisfy you at all times, and be ravished always with her love.  Prov 5:15-20   
 
Dene Ward

I started teaching women’s classes far too long ago.  I was too young to have any idea either what I was doing or even what I was supposed to be doing.  But at the first place Keith preached—it was a part-time position under the oversight of elders—one of those elders asked me to teach the teenage girls.  I was only 20, but he said no one else would do it.  Then at the next congregation the ladies elected me the first night I attended the class that was already in existence.  Even though there were women forty years older than I, they thought that being “the preacher’s wife” made me automatically qualified.  I, who should have been sitting at the feet of older women, was frantically learning as I went.  I cringe sometimes wondering how many women I confused or misled with my inexperience and lack of wisdom.

              I hope I have improved.  I certainly have age and experience now, but the wisdom is an open question—always.  One thing about the age factor:  I have heard every excuse there is for not attending the women’s Bible study.  Are there truly valid reasons?  Yes, of course there are.  But there are far more of the other kind.  Let’s examine a few.

              “It’s so difficult to pay attention with the little ones in tow, and it’s so embarrassing when they cause distractions.”  Yes, it is difficult, but there is no need to be embarrassed.  Nearly thirty years ago when my current Tuesday morning class started up, we all had children still at home.  We made comments over the heads of playing toddlers and it was not uncommon that a few mothers would occasionally have to throw down their books and Bibles and run comfort a crying baby or settle a small-fry squabble.  We were all in the same boat and understood, but we never let our children be the excuse we gave the Lord for not finding time to get together and study.

              “But these lessons are so hard and take so long to do.”  I am afraid my lessons do tend to be this way.  But really now, what kind of hours would you expect to put in if you went back to school either to improve your job (vocation) or to get a promotion?  This is your spiritual education we’re talking about, and what you know will make a difference in how you conduct yourself in your spiritual vocation (Eph 4:1; 2 Pet 1:10) 

           A long time ago a brother went to the elders about one of Keith’s classes.  “It’s too deep,” he complained.  Those good shepherds were wise enough and strong enough to tell that brother what he needed to hear instead of what he wanted to hear.  “If I had been a Christian for forty years like you have,” they said, “I would be ashamed to say something in the Bible was too deep for me.”  Are you aware of Jesus’ statement when the apostles asked him why he spoke in parables, making it harder for people to understand?  Because the ones who care enough will work hard enough to understand it, he told them.  Do you care that much?

           I don’t make my lessons hard on purpose.  They seem difficult because the material is new to you.  I am trying to teach things you do not know, not rehash the things you do know.  That really would be superfluous and not worth a busy woman’s time.  Isn’t gaining a deeper knowledge and understanding of the Word of God worth rearranging your schedule, both in time to study and time to attend?  Can’t you give up something in order to study—like a TV show in the evenings?

           “Well they are so hard I don’t even know what to write down in the blanks.”  Ask anyone in the class how I run it.  Despite the reputation I must surely have for being a mean old lady who likes to mortify people, I never put anyone on the spot.  If you don’t know the answer, leave it blank.  But how will you ever find the answer if you don’t come and listen for it?  A good percentage of the class does exactly that, and one even laughs about how much erasing she has to do.  Now that’s a great attitude.  Can’t you follow her example?

           “My schedule is just so full.”  So is mine.  So is everyone’s.  The difference between those women and the ones who do not come (but could) is priorities.  They decided to make the time in their schedules for a Bible class.  They schedule things around it instead of the other way around.  They have trained their families to know, “Oh! It’s Tuesday,” or “the third Sunday,” and it really wasn’t that hard to do when they insisted on it.  And let’s just put this out there in black and white, plain and simple:  if you are too busy to study the Bible, you are too busy, and yes, maybe even sinfully busy if it causes you to neglect your Lord and His Word.

           “Once I get older and have less to do, then I will start attending ladies’ Bible class.”  Wait a minute!  Who are the older women told to teach?  Not the older ones who “have less to do” but the younger ones, that’s who!  The things we older teachers have to tell you will actually help you during your younger years.  If you listen and use these things, you might just avoid the problems that so many of your friends have.   What good will it do you when you finally come to class and all you have to offer are the things you have learned not to do from hard experience instead of wise teaching?  All my “old faithfuls” began young.  The vast majority have stayed with it—that’s why the class looks like a bunch of older women, not because they are the only ones who have time. 

           Many of the ones we have lost have moved to other areas.  I regularly hear from them how much they miss a class where they actually learn something new.  “We don’t have deep classes like this,” a visitor to our class once told me.  But here it is free for the taking to anyone who cares enough—and so few do. 

           I know I am not some popular, funny, good-looking teacher.  I know my lessons stomp on toes because I make applications that are real to life instead of feel good fluff.  The truly good teachers I know do the same.  We want to help you.  We want to share with you what we have worked hard to obtain, what means the world to us and should mean the world to you. 

           We also want to find young women who can take our places someday.  You simply must start early if you ever hope to do that.  I was 21 when I began serious, deep Bible study, and there is still so much left for me to learn and to share.  You could carry it on if you prepare yourself, but I can only give it if you are there to take it.
 
Older women likewise…are to teach what is good and to train the young women…Titus 2:3,4
And what you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses entrust to faithful [women] who will be able to teach others also. 2Tim 2:2
 
Dene Ward

We have already discussed an adult child’s obligations to his parents.  What about the parents’ obligations?  As we have indicated by the title, this relationship is a changing one.  After a child has grown, gone are the days when the parent can speak his opinion freely and expect it to be instantly accepted.  Instant obedience as a child was required.  Not so when the child is now running his own life.

              In fact, my first no-no for parents of adult children is to never try to control their lives.  “Adult” means “responsible” and unless you are willing to admit that you did a poor job of raising them, you should now be ready to sit back and see the results of your training, what should be a pleasant and satisfying prospect.  Failure in this area is usually caused by parents who want the vicarious thrills of their child’s achievements.  It’s not about you and what you want any longer.  This is his life and we need to be adults who can accept that fact.

              Another important no-no:  Do not come between couples.  And do not separate them either.  When my son comes to visit, I expect his wife to come too.  I would never ask him to come alone, yet I have heard of that very thing.  Your child-in-law should never feel unwelcome.  My husband and I are a unit.  You want one, you get both.  The same is true for your child and spouse. I covered this earlier in an in-law series, but it bears repeating:  your child’s spouse should feel love and acceptance in the family.  It is nothing but shameful when that does not happen.

              Next, and yet another big one, do not manipulate your adult child.  Do not use guilt trips.  Put “No one loves me,” “I guess you just don’t have time for me any more,” and “You never come to see me,” out of your vocabulary.  Recognize that your perspective may be skewed because you are not as busy as you used to be or you can no longer drive yourself a great distance so time passes more slowly and intervals between visits seem longer than they actually are.  Recognize that your child has obligations, obligations that you taught him to fulfill, like those to God, his wife and children, her parents, and his work.  Just what exactly were you doing at his age?  Probably the same things s/he is.

              Do not make the holidays a source of pain for everyone.  There are now two sets of parents to spend time with.  Accept your children’s  division of the time.  Believe me, they are doing their best, but too often both sets of parents want it all.  That simply will not work, and all your complaining does is ruin it for everyone.  They will grow to hate the holidays, and some of that is bound to rub off on you if you are the ones causing the problems.  Don’t allow your lives to be ruled by a calendar.  Work it out and make their time with you—whenever it is and for however long—something they will always cherish.

              And never, never, never use your grandchildren to get your way.  Anyone who uses a child is the lowest of the low.  Don’t even consider it.  And that includes deluding yourself that you are actually doing this in the child’s best interests, when it is obvious to everyone else that it is you who matters the most to you.

              Then there is the issue of losing your independence and their caring for you.  Sooner or later it will happen.  When the time comes, make caring for you easy and pleasant.  Stubborn refusal to follow doctor’s orders, take your medications, etc., will only cast a stumbling block in front of them as they try to fulfill their scriptural obligations, and you know what Jesus had to say about that.  Be realistic.  No one goes on forever.  (“Our outer man is decaying…”2 Cor 4:16.) When it is time to give something up, perhaps driving or living alone, do it gracefully.  Make caring for you the joy it should be to a grateful child.  Make your final years things they will miss instead of a relief to have over.

              This relationship bears obligations both ways.  I probably haven’t even touched them all, but these, and yesterday’s, are a good start.
 
Fathers [and mothers], do not provoke your children, lest they become discouraged. (Col 3:21)

Dene Ward

Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right. Honor thy father and mother (which is the first commandment with promise), that it may be well with thee, and you may live long on the earth.  Eph 6:1-3. 

             Sometimes it seems to escape us of all people, we who preach the innocence of children as opposed to inherited total depravity, that the above passage cannot be directed at unaccountable children because children do not sin.  Jesus, in fact, directed this command to adult children in Matt 15:1-9.
So how do we as their children, but independent adults at the same time, honor our parents?
 
             Starting with Jesus’ point in Matt 15, we care for them, and that may indeed involve financial support.  But if a widow has children or grandchildren, let them first learn to show godliness to their own household and to make some return to their parents, for this is pleasing in the sight of God...But if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.  1Tim 5:4,8
 
            It may mean taking them into our homes as they near the end.  It may also mean completely changing the family dynamic, where you become the parent and they the children, doing what is in their best interests whether they want it or not, and even if it adversely affects the relationship.  What used to be their responsibility is now yours.

            Part of that care involves your companionship.  Try telling your wife you love her and then never spending any time with her!  Especially if you are down to one widowed parent, you are the one who can come closest to replacing what she has lost.  If a Christian is commanded to “visit” (Matt 25:31-40; James 1:27), surely a child is expected to.  If you live a distance away, regular telephone calls, emails, or letters if your parent eschews electronics, should be part of your routine.  No matter how busy your life, this should be on your schedule, like brushing your teeth or taking a shower.  You may as well spit in their faces as ignore them or put them at the bottom of the “if I have time” list.

           Honoring your parents may involve some forbearance and longsuffering.  They are slower now, in body at least, if not in mind.  Things that seem trivial to us may mean the world to them.  Respect them by tolerating those things equably.  Don’t stand there tapping your toes and heaving frustrated sighs.  They do notice and all you will accomplish is stealing that small amount of happiness from a life that is nearly over. We cannot claim to be the Lord’s disciple and do otherwise:  We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to build him up. For Christ did not please himself, but as it is written, “The reproaches of those who reproached you fell on me.” Rom 15:1-3
             
             Honoring your parents literally involves your speech to and about them.
           “Whoever curses his father or his mother shall be put to death. Exod 21:17
             Consecrate yourselves, therefore, and be holy, for I am the LORD your God. Keep my statutes and do them; I am the LORD who sanctifies you. For anyone who curses his father or his mother shall surely be put to death; he has cursed his father or his mother; his blood is upon him. Lev 20:7-9
             
            Most of us wouldn’t stoop so low as actually cursing our parents, but how do you handle a disagreement?  How do you speak about them to others?  Is love and concern apparent, or just aggravation and annoyance?  What stories do you tell your children about their grandparents?  Do you spread your inability to get along with them to the next generation, even if you do feel justified, and so ruin any hope of a wonderful grandparent/grandchild relationship for them?  Remember, gossip is gossip no matter who it’s about.

              Honoring parents is a command we must obey as surely as baptism.  Too many times we rationalize our way out of the commandment just as our unbaptized neighbors do.
 
They were filled with all manner of unrighteousness, evil, covetousness, malice. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, maliciousness. They are gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, foolish, faithless, heartless, ruthless. Though they know God's righteous decree that those who practice such things deserve to die, they not only do them but give approval to those who practice them. Rom 1:29-32
Dene Ward

Many years ago we were in a discussion with a group of Christians about the word “temptation” when Keith mentioned that “tempt” by its very definition means a possibility of and a desire to give in to that temptation.  No one wanted to accept that statement, probably because we all want to believe that we don’t want to sin.  We happened to know a certain brother’s dessert preferences because we had often eaten with that couple, and suddenly the solution came to me.
 
           “Bill cannot be tempted off his diet by a coconut cream pie,” I said.  “He cannot be tempted that way because he hates coconut.  Maybe chocolate, but not coconut.”  Click!  The light bulb went on for practically everyone.  Suddenly they understood what it meant to be tempted. 

            That understanding can lead to all sorts of discussions and get you into some deep water, but consider this one thing with me this morning.  I was “raised in the church,” as we often put it.  I had parents who taught me right from wrong in no uncertain terms.  Frankly, I have never even been tempted by most of the “moral” sins out there in the world.  I know a lot of others in the same situation.  But that doesn’t make us any better than someone who has just recently given his life to the Lord.  I am afraid that sometimes we think it does make us better.  When a young Christian tells me that older Christians look down on him when he says he still struggles with sin, I know we think so.

            Yet how does the fact that you have never struggled with a certain sin make you stronger than one who does?  In fact, since you have never struggled with it, how do you know you could win the fight at all?  There may be other temptations that cause us to fall, and not needing to fight one doesn’t mean we would be any better at fighting others.

            It only shows how weak we are when we pride ourselves on the fact that we have never been tempted in certain areas.  Ironically, that very feeling is our weakness, the thing that tempts us, and the thing in which we usually fail--pride, self-righteousness, unjust judgment, and a failure to love as we ought.

            What is your coconut cream pie?  What distaste keeps you from even being tempted in one area, and as a result, makes you fail the test of humility?  I might have to have a piece of pie while I think about it.
 
 And he spoke also this parable unto certain who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and set all others at nought: Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican.  The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank you, that I am not as the rest of men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week; I give tithes of all that I get. But the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote his breast, saying, God, be merciful to me a sinner. I say unto you, This man went down to his house justified rather than the other: for every one that exalts himself shall be humbled; but he that humbles himself shall be exalted, Luke 18:9-14.   
 
Dene Ward

At least one other rule of economics is fairly easy to comprehend.  The more the commodity costs the manufacturer to make, the more it costs the supplier, and therefore, the more it will cost the consumer.  It only makes sense, and it is only fair.  Capitalism depends upon this very rule.

It is an easy rule to misunderstand though.  Our idea of “cost” is the cost of the raw materials to make the product.  Over the years I have learned better. 

At some urging from one of the elders where we attended, I have written, published, and sold Bible class material since I was 25.  I never expected to get rich with it—that certainly wasn’t my purpose--but I discovered quickly that there was more to “cost” than simply printing the books.  I needed high quality boxes for shipping because books are heavy.  I needed padded envelopes and packing tape.  There was the cost of gas to go to the post office to mail orders, especially after we moved thirty miles from town.  There was the price of advertising.  Businesses larger than mine also need a place to store inventory, salaries for employees and the benefits that attract them to the job, utilities and insurance for the store.  That’s not even half of it, but you get the point.  I am no longer outraged when I discover that the markup for some items is two or three hundred percent.  The “cost” is a whole lot steeper than the simple cost of manufacture.

Then there was my other sideline.  When I first started teaching piano lessons, I was still a student myself, so I only charged half of the amount my teacher charged.  Then I graduated from college and joined several teaching organizations.  When I looked around at other teachers, I suddenly understood that I needed to be paid based on my qualifications and my experience, and on the things I offered my students. 

I spent over $200 a year on professional dues so I could offer the competition, scholarship, and performance opportunities those organizations afforded its members’ students.  I spent more on workshops to keep myself up to date.  I had a degree in music that none of the others in my county had, and that education cost money.  I knew what it took to prepare for a college audition while no one else in the county did.  My students needed theory and history classes and for those I needed tapes, CDs, reference books, teaching materials like flash cards and rhythm band instruments, a music library for my older students to borrow from, and computer music theory games as well.  All of that cost money and my rates reflected that.

But once again, grace doesn’t follow the rules of economics.  Grace cost God, the manufacturer and supplier, an unconscionable amount—it cost his son.  I know there are some things in life that will always be beyond my means.  I will never drive a luxury car.  I will never live in a real house.  I will never visit a foreign country.  Knowing that, and based on the cost alone, I should never be able to afford grace.  Not even the wealthiest of us is able to pay for it.  But I can, and so can everyone else, because regardless the steep cost, for all of us this invaluable commodity is free.

Remember to thank God today for his rules of economics.
 
Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift, 2 Cor 9:15.
 
Dene Ward

Economics was not my favorite subject in school.  Too much of it sounded like gobbledy-gook and the “rules” seldom seemed as logical to me as they did to the teacher—they were far too complicated.  One principle I did understand, though, perhaps because it was played out right in front of me in the early 1970s. 

            After working the whole summer between my freshman and sophomore years of college, I managed to buy my first car, a ’67 Mustang.  I commuted to Florida College and, in those days, a music major had to take 21-24 hours a semester just to get all the requirements in, plus stay for extra rehearsals.  I was on campus from 7:30 am till about 9 pm nearly every day.  Then I went home, grabbed a bite of leftovers, fell asleep across my homework about 2 am, got up at 6 and started again.

         That was the year of “the gas shortage.”  Many stations closed completely.  Others opened for only three or four hours a day—till the gas ran out.  Sometimes purchases were limited to five gallons per vehicle so that more customers could be served.

            We patronized one particular station in Temple Terrace.  One evening every week, the proprietor called us and his other regular customers.  Early the next morning, while it was still dark, we all lined up our cars behind the station so we wouldn’t attract attention, and he filled us all up, the station sign remaining dark and the office and service bays unlit.

            Eventually even that ran out.  Everyone in town was on the look-out and word passed quickly when a station opened, an attendant setting out the sandwich board sign, “Gas Today.”  In particular I remember sitting in my little blue Mustang with the red painted wheel wells in a long snaky line that reached from the station on the corner out to the southeast shoulder of 56th Street at Fowler Avenue, all of us hoping we would reach the pump before the owner turned the sign around to read, “Out of gas.”

            The supply was small, but the demand was just as great as ever, so I am sure you know what happened.  The price jumped from thirty-five to sixty-five cents a gallon.  In those days, minimum wage was $2.00 an hour, $12,000 a year was a good salary, and $25 bought a week’s groceries, so a tank of gas jumping from three or four dollars to nine or ten was a hardship.

            The rules of economics say that when the supply is small and the demand great, the price will rise.  On the other hand, when the supply is great and the demand small, the price will drop like a rock.  Things don’t work that way with grace. 

            Some of the early Christians, understanding how wonderful grace was, had the mistaken notion that since grace covered sin, they should sin more so there would be more grace.  Paul answers this error in Romans 6:1,2.  What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound?  God forbid. We who died to sin, how shall we any longer live therein? He then goes on to explain that baptism into the death of Christ requires a death to sin on our part.  We should be living like baptized people, like people who are “no longer in bondage to sin,” v 6. 

           After a long discussion he starts talking about the price of that grace, a point he had begun in chapter five, and do you know what?  The price of grace to us has nothing to do with how much we need it or how much we sin.  The price of grace does not fluctuate like the price of gasoline.  No matter how much you need it, there is always plenty.  No matter how much you need it, it is always free.  We will never have to sit in line hoping we make it to the front before it runs out, and we will never be too poor to receive it.  The laws of supply and demand have absolutely nothing to do with grace, and aren’t we glad?
 
But the free gift is not like the trespass. For if many died through one man's trespass, much more have the grace of God and the free gift by the grace of that one man Jesus Christ abounded for many. And the free gift is not like the result of that one man's sin. For the judgment following one trespass brought condemnation, but the free gift following many trespasses brought justification. For if, because of one man's trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ, Rom 5:15-17.
 
Dene Ward

My mother moved into a one bedroom apartment recently and that meant some serious downsizing.  We have been going through her things, pricing them for a yard sale, and the memories come flooding back as I handle them. 

            I can tell you what she served in every one of her serving dishes and which casseroles bubbled away in which pans.  I pulled a few things out for myself and last week I cooked a pot roast in her Magnalite roasting pan, used her pale blue plastic shaker to mix flour and water for the gravy, and then poured that gravy into her small blue bowl, just like she did for us Sunday after Sunday for years.  And I remember the Sunday, under her compassionate direction, we carted all that food to a neighbor whose husband had been killed in an automobile accident the night before.

              I emptied a file cabinet that held a folder for every major appliance in the house, plus its manual and even the sales slip with either her or my daddy’s signature on the bottom.  I found a letter sorter with “Gulf Oil” etched on it, a tape dispenser with “Gulf Credit Union” and its phone number taped to the side, and even a Gulf Oil hardhat with “Gerald Ayers” on the front of it.  And I remember the people at that company who learned to respect a man who was honest in everything and whose language was pristine.

              I found a recipe card collection that I remember from my early teens, which contains some of my favorite recipes.  Some are printed cards with color pictures, but others are handwritten, including one for “Rice with Backbone.”  Tell me where you will ever find that recipe anywhere else.  In fact, tell me where you will find backbone!  And I remembered all the recipes she made for company who graced our table, family, brethren, college students who loved having a home cooked meal, and the showers she hosted, the gospel sings, and the meeting preachers.

              And that’s not the half of it.  I found myself tearing up again and again as the memories flooded back, memories of a loving family and an extremely blessed childhood.  How many times have I thanked God for the parents who raised me, who taught me right from wrong, who turned me into a responsible adult, and most of all, who taught me about God.  And here is the fruit of it all:

              My parents raised two daughters.  Each of those girls married a godly man.  Between them they raised 9 grandchildren, all of whom are Christians.  Of the three married grandchildren, all married Christians as well.  And now six great-grandchildren are being taught the same way we were.  My parents’ progeny speaks well for them.

              They were not famous.  They were not influential in worldly ways.  But each one of us carry memories of them that keep us on the right track, memories that inspire us and make us want to be like them.  No, they were not perfect.  Show me anyone who is.  But they did what was necessary to raise us in the nurture and admonition of the Lord and to teach our children and those children teach theirs what they need to know to serve God. 

              You are creating memories for your children.  One day, they will go through your things.  What will mean the most to them?  What will they think of when they see your signature, when they read a letter you wrote, when they pick up a bowl or a mug or even a wood-cased thermometer that used to hang in your shed by a piece of green twisted wire?  What have you taught them about serving God?  You have taught them something, whether you intended to or not.  Maybe it’s time to spend a little more time on the eternal things.
 
“Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children's children-- Deut 4:9
 
Dene Ward

I wonder what Punxatawny Phil saw this morning.  According to folklore, when this 120 year old groundhog leaves his burrow on Gobbler’s Knob each February 2nd, his shadow, or lack thereof, predicts the length of winter.  If he sees his shadow, there will be six more weeks of cold.  This has never made much sense to me.  The only way to see your shadow is on a sunny day.  It would make far more sense if the day was cloudy and gray and he did not see his shadow.  A cold gray day should mean more winter, not less.  Besides, how can Phil predict my weather over 1000 miles away?  My own local weatherman changes his five day forecast every twelve hours, and still misses it half the time.

            The idea of shadows is used a lot in the scriptures.  I was raised on the concept of “foreshadowing”—items under the Old Covenant used as types of things in the New, Heb 8:5; 10:1; 1 Cor 5:7,8, etc.  I think I had the notion that esoteric concept was the primary use of the word “shadow” in the Bible.

            Then I discovered Psalm 102:11, 144:4, and Eccl 8:13.  Our lives are depicted as shadows that decline and pass away.  Have you ever stood outside when a breeze was blowing those puffy cotton ball clouds across the sky?  One minute you are in the sun and the next in the shade—one minute you have a shadow and the next you don’t.  Life is just as ethereal in several ways.  One moment you are basking in the warmth of happiness and good times; the next your life is dark and gray with trials.  One minute you are here, and the next you are gone.  Remember not to lay up treasures for this world, but for the lasting one to come.

            The word is also used in terms of protection, hiding in the “shadow” of God.  David conveys thoughts like these in Psalm 17:8; 36:7; and 57:1.  Jeremiah uses the figure in Lam 4:20.  In a hot land with several desert areas, the protection of shade is important and that figure spoke volumes to these people.  Down here in Florida we have a healthy respect for shade which can make a ten to fifteen degree difference in the temperature.  We will walk the entire length of two parking lots in order to park a car in the miniscule shade of a thin-limbed sapling.  I wonder why so few are interested in the huge cooling shadow of a loving God.

            But then maybe I do understand.  When you step into the shadow of someone who is bigger than you, your own shadow disappears.  Our lives “are hid with Christ,” Col 3:3.  Maybe we just cannot stand the notion of giving up self.  We want to retain just a touch of independence.  “That’s just who I am,” becomes an excuse for our failure to overcome sin and become new creatures.  We fail to realize that we have merely swapped dwelling in the protective shadow of God for dwelling in the outer darkness of the Devil.

            Think today about shadows—about the interesting study of Old Testament items foreshadowing those in the New; about the fleeting nature of life, like a shadow dissolving when a cloud sails across the sun; about the great protection found in God’s shadow.  Think too about hiding yourself in the larger shadow of a Big Brother whose life we must emulate if we ever hope for that Father’s protection, and a life that is no longer as ephemeral as a shadow.
 
He that dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in Him will I trust, Psalm 91:1,2.  
 
Dene Ward

We visited our son a couple of months ago—the bachelor son.  He always spends nearly a full day cleaning before we arrive.  I know it’s true—you can smell the pines, the lemons, and the bleach when you walk in the door.  The vacuum, the broom, and the mop are usually still standing in the corner.  The bed is made with fresh, crisp sheets and his best towels hang in the bathroom.  He has obviously worked hard.

              But he is a man.  Some things he just doesn’t see or even think to look for.  I was loading the dishwasher one morning and after rinsing a plate my eyes fell on the window sill.  A layer of dust coated it, which, being in the kitchen where cooking grease rises in the steam and settles with an adhesive and almost audible thump, couldn’t just be quickly wiped away. 

              That evening when I stepped out of the shower, I saw the top of the baseboards.  And that’s when it hit me.  What about my baseboards?  What about my kitchen window sill?  When was the last time I cleaned them?  When was the last time I even thought to look and see if they needed cleaning?

              It’s so much easier to see someone else’s dirt—and that goes for spiritual dirt too.  Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye but don’t notice the log in your own eye?  Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ and look, there’s a log in your eye?  Hypocrite! First take the log out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye,  Matt 7:3-5.  Jesus warns us about judging others more harshly than ourselves, about expecting perfection from others who might actually be closer to it than we are.  My son’s apartment was a lot cleaner than the house I left behind at that point.

              It takes a practiced eye to see the dirt.  I still remember the day I really learned to wipe off the dinner table.  I thought I’d done exactly that, but my mother called me back.  Indeed I had gotten every crumb and obvious spill but she showed me how to lean so that the overhead light shone on the table.  I had wiped, but had only smeared butter, gravy, and other assorted foodstuffs.  First you wipe up the crumbs and spills, then you rinse your cloth and actually clean the table.

              Experienced housekeepers know that kitchen surfaces collect greasy dirt and that any flat surface—even narrow little baseboards—collect dust.  They know ceilings “grow” cobwebs and shower doors amass soap scum.  They know that wiping off the top of anything isn’t even half the battle.  There are sides, a bottom, and sometimes insides that need our careful attention.

              Maybe it’s time to do a real housecleaning on ourselves.  If you don’t know where to look for dirt, try all those places you find it so easily in others.
             
“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence! Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup, so the outside of it may also become clean. Matt 23:25,26.
 
Dene Ward