I was driving back from Bible class, coming down the last hill before the river, rolling green fields dotted with black cattle on the right, and a couple of old trailer houses perched on the left, their yards littered with rusty old farm equipment, screens hanging loose on porches covered with peeling paint, and black and brown frosted-off weeds standing knee high.  It may surprise you that I was driving.  I have reached that point where the doctor is the one who decides if I can have a driver’s license, and it seems the general consensus is that it doesn’t matter if you can tell if that thing by the side of the road is a garbage can, a mailbox, or a midget, as long you know it’s there and don’t hit it.

              But I was really tired.  Most of my medications are beta blockers of one sort or another, or poisons that affect my heartbeat.  Sometimes I am lucky to have a pulse rate of 52 and blood pressure just scraping the bottom side of 100, the top number that is.  The bottom one might be half that. 

              I had just bought groceries for the week, picked up a prescription and some dry cleaning, stood in line at the post office for twenty minutes and taught a Bible class, not to mention driving the hour and a half round trip back and forth to town.  I was ready to sit out the rest of the day, after I got home and unloaded.

              But my weary mind forgot that I was driving and told me to lean back and relax.  I know my eyes weren’t closed longer than half a second, but when my brain caught up with what I was doing and I snapped to, my pulse was racing along just fine.  Good thing I was only five miles from home.              

              And that’s when I forgot that these medications are a blessing, that without them I wouldn’t see at all, and wouldn’t have for several years now.  That’s when I railed against a gift of God.  It’s not enough that I have no energy.  I must also put up with the discomfort of follicular conjunctivitis every minute of every day as a side effect, and nearly constant headaches from the blurry vision that accompanies it.  How can this be a blessing?

              Down days happen, usually when things pile up.  Once again we needed something we couldn’t afford.  Once again we had received bad news about a parent’s health.  Once again something broke down.  My vision had decreased another line at my last checkup.  Keith’s RA had broken through the latest, the third, layer of medication and we weren’t sure it could be knocked down without another layer.  And now I come dangerously close to an accident that could have hurt not just me but an innocent bystander.

              So down I spiraled.  When even blessings—like the medications that keep you seeing—become something you want to curse because all you can focus on are the side effects, you are too far down, and it’s time to find your way out.

             Down days aren’t so much about a lack of faith as they are about a moment’s forgetfulness.  They are about looking for the wrong things, or looking at the right things the wrong way.  This wretched medicine makes me feel horrible, I sometimes think on a down day.  On an up day I remember, this wonderful medicine has kept me seeing long enough to see my grandchildren.

              I don’t for a minute compare myself to John, and I certainly have no idea what his feelings were, but if I had been in his shoes—or in his cell—I might have needed a reminder too.  He had given up so much to fulfill his role in God’s plan as the forerunner of the Messiah.  Yet now, when he has done all that was expected of him, he is cast into prison for speaking the truth.  Surely God would save this righteous man, the one of whom the Messiah himself would say, “Of those born of women, none is greater than John,” Luke 7:28.  But no, day after day he languishes in a prison cell at the mercy of a wicked woman and her weak husband. 

              I would have had a down day or two as I came to realize that my work was finished, that perhaps I, too, was finished, at the completely un-ripe young age of 31 or so.  I don’t know if that is why or not, but he sent his disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the one, or should we look for another?” (7:20) 

              The Lord sent him what he needed to hear.

              "Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by me." Luke 7:22-23.

              John already knew those things; he had probably seen many of them.  He just needed to be reminded, and there is no shame in that. 

            God can remind each one of us too.  He does it by the providential words and actions of your brethren.  He does it when a hymn suddenly wafts through your mind.  He does it by giving us His Word, a resource of constant refreshment when we need it.  How many of us don’t have verses we go to in difficult moments?  If you don’t, then you need to make some time today to find one.  Find it before you need it.  Find it, and let the Lord remind you about all of your blessings, both now and to come. 

              You can come up from a down day, but only if you reach out and take hold of the help that is offered.
 
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. Isaiah 40:31.
 
Dene Ward

We’ve been studying faith lately in our weekly women’s class.  Part of that study involved looking up every passage we could find that contained the word, then categorizing the verses into some sort of sensible outline.  One of the categories we called “acts” of faith, all the verbs associated with the word. 

              That also had me looking up the original Greek word.  I have said before and constantly remind the class that I am not a Greek scholar.  I have enough trouble with English.  Yet looking at a Greek word can instantly bring another English word to mind and give you some insight into the word.  Here are some of the things we found.

              2 Cor 5:7 says “we walk by faith not by sight.”  That word is peripateo and you should instantly think of the word “peripatetic.”  Someone who is peripatetic is a pacer, constantly moving back and forth, usually talking at the same time.  Think ADD and you have the picture.  We aren’t to be just strolling on this faithful walk of ours.

              Gal 5:6 mentions “faith working through love.”  The word for “working” is energeo.  That brings to mind the English words “energy” and “energetic.”  This is not a lethargic faith that simply assents to a belief, but one that works because of that belief.

              Paul says we are to be “striving for the faith” in Phil 1:27.  That word is sunathleo.  Don’t you see the word “athlete” there?  We are supposed to be working at it the way an athlete works out—hard enough to raise a sweat.

              “Fight the good fight of faith,” Paul says in 1 Tim 6:12.  “Fight” is agon and if you don’t see the word “agony” there, you simply won’t see anything.  Then there is this, which I have gleaned from years of crossword puzzles—an agon was the fight between two gladiators in the coliseum, a public fight, usually to the death.  Are you publicly fighting for your faith, and fighting so hard that you often find yourself in agony from the sheer effort you are putting forth, understanding that it could very well mean spiritual life or death?

              We found several other passages as well, all of them strong active words.  None of them had anything to do with mental assent, with saying, “I believe,” and thinking that would do.  Even such simple things as “Ask in faith,” took on a new meaning when we discovered that the word is often translated “beg” or “plead.”  This is not a casual request.

              No one should ever need to ask if you are a believer.  It should be evident every minute of your life.  They should see it in your service to others (Phil 2:17), in your morality (Phil 1:27), in your love (Eph 6:23), in your confidence (Heb 10:22).  Believers do work and they work hard.  Lazy people need not apply.
 
For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. Ephesians 2:8-10
 
Dene Ward
 

I see one Bible study mistake made over and over and even by seasoned professionals—mixing up their metaphors.

              By this I do not mean what is usually meant in grammar class, using two different and unrelated metaphors in the same phrase of an analogy.  Like this one:  "That's awfully thin gruel for the right wing to hang their hats on."  (MSNBC, September 3, 2009).  Rather, what we refer to here is assuming that every Biblical metaphor means the same thing in every context.  Prime example:

              For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child. But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil. (Heb 5:12-14)

              So put away all malice and all deceit and hypocrisy and envy and all slander. Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation-- (1Pet 2:1-2)

              I don't know how many times I have heard these two passages equated just because babies and milk are mentioned in both.  Here is the problem:  they speak of two entirely different issues and if you don't separate them, you miss half the teaching. 

              In the Hebrews passage, the writer rebukes those who have not progressed in their knowledge of the word.  They are still babies who need milk.  They ought to have matured into adults who can handle a T-bone steak, but they cannot.  They have not "trained their powers of discernment."  In this case, the milk is the first principles, the ABCs of being a Christian, the easy stuff, and being a baby is something you definitely do not want to be.

              Peter, on the other hand, says we should desire the spiritual milk in the same way an infant desires its mother's milk.  The "baby" in this passage is a good example, not a bad one.  We have all seen a hungry infant open its mouth and grunt for that milk over and over until it is fed.  All of us are supposed to be like that little baby, hungering for the spiritual milk, no matter how long we have been Christians.  In this case, the metaphor is about hunger, not just for the Word but for all spirituality, and the baby is something you want to be. 

             These two passages may use some of the same words, but they are not about the same thing.  All it takes is a little slow reading of the entire context, and then maybe a little thought—pretty obvious thought as a matter of fact.  Perhaps one could even call it "milk."

Here's another set:
              According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid a foundation, and someone else is building upon it. Let each one take care how he builds upon it. For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw— each one's work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. (1Cor 3:10-13)

               Now in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver but also of wood and clay, some for honorable use, some for dishonorable. Therefore, if anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonorable, he will be a vessel for honorable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master of the house, ready for every good work. (2Tim 2:20-21)

           This one is a little trickier.  Both passages mention gold, silver and wood, along with a few other materials.  However, in the Corinthian passage, Paul uses the various building materials to say that all of us are different.  We each use whatever our abilities are to build on the spiritual foundation.  Some of us have greater abilities than others, but God will be the judge of how we use those abilities.  Being a "wood" disciple is not necessarily bad as long as we are doing what we can with that wood.  The analogy here is our various abilities, a subject he will eventually come back to in chapter 12, using the body as his analogy.

             However, in the Timothy passage, we are talking about pots, and what the pot is made of determines whether it is honorable or dishonorable.  He goes on to say that we will be honorable vessels, i.e., gold or silver, if we cleanse ourselves, making ourselves suitable for God's use.  We will be dishonorable, wood or clay, if we don't.  Do you see the difference in how this metaphor is used?  In the first, wood is not necessarily wrong, but in the second it is definitely wrong.

            These are not the only two by a long shot.  In one place Christ is the foundation; in another the apostles are.  Stop tying yourselves in knots and just realize that you are using figurative, not literal, language—metaphors, in this case.  The way some people go on, you would think Jesus and the apostles were real stones!  Separate your metaphors rather than mixing them and you will come much closer to the truths they are trying to teach you, without missing any of them.
 
Dene Ward

Since Keith has retired we sit on the carport nearly every morning with a final cup of coffee, talking and tossing treats to Chloe, watching the hummingbirds dogfight, listening to the squeaky whine of titmice fussing over the feeders, counting blooms on the Mexican petunias, and trying to decide if the clouds bode well or ill for the day.  Even in the summer, we enjoy our time, but in the summer one thing changes—the quiet of the country becomes the roar of the big shop fan.  That fan makes it comfortable enough, as it blows away the gnats and mosquitoes, and turns the early morning humidity into a cool breeze instead of a heavy and suffocating blanket.
              I was looking up the history of fans and discovered in a patent office publication some interesting ideas for fans:  a centrifugal fan, a horse fan, and a rocking chair fan among them.  Then I came across the patent filed on February 10, 1926, not for the original oscillating fan, but improvements upon it.  I suppose we have a tendency to think the idea was invented in full form, but such was not the case.  This patent applied for by Harve Stuart, would allow an oscillator on the fan to be connected or disconnected while the fan was in motion, and hold firmly stationary during operation without set screws.  Imagine what that fan was like before then.
              As a born and bred Florida girl, fans were a large part of my childhood.  We did not have air conditioning until I was a teenager, and central air did not come along until Keith and I had been married three years.  Not that it wasn’t invented, but it had not yet reached our income level.
              I remember summer afternoons at my grandmother’s house, sitting on the porch under the shade of oaks and chinaberries, listening to the soft whir and tick-tick-tick-tick as her old oscillating fan swept back and forth across us, evaporating the sheen of sweat and cooling us in the process.  That fan felt wonderful.  In an air conditioned world, I doubt many but my generation have known that feeling.
              This morning I came across Genesis 3:8 and saw a margin note I had never noticed before.
              And they heard the voice of the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day…
              Did you know that word “cool” can also be translated “wind” or “breath?”  God created everything, including the cooling effects of wind and, thus, an evening breeze to cool off His earth.  So even the perfect garden must have become a bit warm during the “heat of the day.”  Surely God had already created the ability to perspire, as well, since that is essential to the function of the body.  Man, as he worked in the garden (Gen 2:15), must have become warm and must have sweated.  Then God sent the evening breezes to cool him off.  It wasn’t until after he sinned that the work became difficult and the heat and the sweat became intolerable, just as it wasn’t until after then that conception, which I view as the whole of the female condition, became painful.
              You can find that word again in Prov 17:27:  He who spares his words has knowledge, and he that is of a cool spirit has understanding.  “Spirit” is “wind” is “cool.”  So now I have fans and breezes and dispositions in my mind, and it all came out this way: 
              If I have a hot nature, I need the cooling effects of the Spirit, and what better way than to read the word he “breathed” to cool me off?
              Many of us are foolish enough to put ourselves in situations where we know we will be tempted to anger, where we know we will be pushed and prodded and even shoved right in its path.  Why?!  We tell our children to avoid situations of temptation.  We tell them it’s downright stupid to go certain places and not expect trouble.  But we sometimes even contrive them, almost as if to flaunt our freedom to do so.  Then we shout out, “That shouldn’t have been so hard,” as we fall, flailing our arms for some sort of lifeline that isn’t there.  We decided we didn’t need it.
              This might be more motivating:  Not only can God cool us, but with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked, Isa 11:4.  One word seems to say it from every angle, just as the old oscillating fan hit from every angle.  Cool yourself off with the Word of God, and don’t go near the torrid zones.
 
​Whoever is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit than he who takes a city, Prov 16:32.
​Good sense makes one slow to anger… Prov 19:11.
​Be not quick in your spirit to become angry, for anger lodges in the heart of fools, Eccl 7:9.
 
Dene Ward

I used to wonder why Mary, Queen of Scots, was beheaded.  I never knew the whole story and to me she was always a victim, never a criminal.  Now I know better.
              Mary ascended to the throne of Scotland in 1549 when she was 6 days old.  She was educated in the courts of France and returned to resume her place as monarch at the age of 17, already a widow.  In 1565 she married her English cousin in order to reinforce her claim to the English throne after Elizabeth's death.  But over the next couple of years she became a focal point in several plots to overthrow Elizabeth, and Elizabeth was forced to put her under house arrest, even though she counted her a friend.
              In 1586 a major plot to kill Elizabeth was uncovered and Mary was found complicit and beheaded on February 8, 1587, thanks to the discovery of a coded letter she sent to her co-conspirator Anthony Babington. 
              Codes have been used at least as far back as Julius Caesar, who used a simple alphabetic code.  Mary's code was the type called "frequency analysis."  It depends upon the number of times certain letters are used in the language.  In English, E is the most common letter, T the second most, and A the third, etc.  By looking at the message, the cryptologist can crack the code when he sees how many times certain symbols are used.  They tell me it's simple math.  Well, math maybe, but not necessarily simple to me.
              On the other hand…  
            Before he was a year old, Silas started talking.  Sometimes I knew what he was saying and sometimes I didn’t.  For some reason he said, “Bear,” over and over and over.  He and another toddler at church carried on quite a conversation across the aisle with just that one word.  But there was no question at all what he meant when he looked across the room, spied Brooke, then smiled, held out both arms and said, “Mamamamamamama,” as he toddled across the floor.  No, he was not saying, “Mama.”  He was saying, “There is the most important person in the world.”  Then he looked at Nathan, pointed to the ceiling and said, “Up!”  No, that didn’t mean, “Pick me up.”  It meant, “Throw me up in the air as high as you can,” something he loved for his daddy to do.
              Mothers can decode better than anyone.  When Lucas was eleven months old, he had already been walking five or six weeks.  He often padded to the refrigerator, hung on to the door, and said, “Dee.”  That meant, “I want a drink, please.”  Nathan, at thirteen months, would hold out his biscuit half and say, “Buuuuh.”  (Pronounce that like the word “burr” but without the “r,” and draw the “u” out as long as possible.)  That meant, “Please put more butter on my biscuit so I can lick it off again.”  Needless to say, he only got a little dab of butter at a time.
              Marriages have special codes too.  “Are you wearing that?” could mean a lot of different things, depending upon the marriage.  In some it means, “I don’t like that outfit.”  In ours it means, “Oh, so I guess I can’t wear my blue jeans, huh?”  Relationships may be about communication, but that does not mean they are about hearing; they are about knowing what the words you hear mean.  Sometimes people decide they mean what they want them to mean instead of what they really do mean, and that can lead to all sorts of problems.
              Jesus is a specialist in decoding our words.  “He who searches the reins and the hearts” (Rev 2:23) can figure it out, no matter how awkwardly we phrase things.  We don’t have to worry about being eloquent in our prayers, about saying something that might be misunderstood or taken the wrong way.  People may do that, but our Lord never will.  He partook of humanity so he would understand the stresses we undergo and the turmoil they create in our minds.  He knows that things sometimes come out wrong, not because we are selfish or mean, but because we are anxious and distressed.  Isn’t that when we find ourselves talking to Him the most?
              Make a relationship with Him that will calm your worries.  Know that He is listening to your heart, not the inept words you sometimes utter.  Don’t worry about eloquence, just talk.  Let your prayers be a comfort to you today, not another source of worry.  That’s how a real relationship works.
 
Who shall lay anything to the charge of God’s elect? It is God who justifies, who is he who condemns?  It is Christ Jesus who died, yes rather, who was raised from the dead, who is at the right hand of God, who also makes intercession for us…For there is one God, one mediator between God and man, himself man, Christ Jesus, Rom 8:33,34; 1 Tim 2:5.
 
Dene Ward

Some responsibilities are tougher than others.  Some responsibilities deserve the word “onus,” a responsibility that is so big it is almost terrifying.
              I imagine the first time you really understood that word was when they put that tiny, squirming baby in your arms.  Suddenly you understood that it was your responsibility to care for another human being, one who was completely helpless and dependent.  It wasn’t like a friend who was having a problem so you spent some time with him and then went home to your own life again.  This was a responsibility that completely changed your life—your schedule, your budget, your chores, even your habits. 
              I bet you said, “I have to stop (blank)ing now.”  You didn’t want your child to develop those same bad habits you were always fighting and suddenly you had the motivation to deal with them.
              I bet you sacrificed a lot of things.  Suddenly spending an hour to put on makeup wasn’t quite so important.  Suddenly you forgot to watch a few ball games on Saturday.  Suddenly you didn’t need to eat out quite so often, or see so many movies, or go shopping as much.
              I bet you suddenly felt a love you never even knew existed before then, something nearly overpowering in its strength.  While the word onus means a “burden” of responsibility, I bet you never thought of it that way once.  You were happy to do those things for that precious child. 
              I was studying a few weeks ago and came upon something that put another onus on me.  Once I really understood what I was reading, I actually shivered a little and felt a peculiar sensation in the pit of my stomach.
              …That they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive remission of sins and an inheritance among them that are sanctified by faith in me, Acts 26:18.
              We are “sanctified” by faith.  Okay, so we are “set apart,” (yawn).  What of it?
              Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name, Matt 6:9. 
              The Greek word for “sanctified” is the same Greek word translated “hallowed.”  We are “sanctified” just like God’s name is “hallowed.”  Do you realize the burden that places on us in our behavior?  Only let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ, Paul says in Phil 1:27.
              Suddenly our lives should have changed.  We should have been anxious to rid ourselves of the bad habit of sin.  Worldly affairs should have found their correct place on the bottom of our priority list.  Sacrificing for a Lord who sacrificed Himself for us should have come naturally, and an overpowering love and gratitude should have overwhelmed us.
              That’s what should have happened.  Did it?  Maybe this little reminder will help.  God expects you to be as hallowed, as sanctified, as His name is.  We always told our boys, “Remember who you are.” 
              All of us need that reminder.
              As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, "You shall be holy, for I am holy." And if you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one's deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile, knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot. 1 Peter 1:14-19.
              Now read all those underlined phrases one after the other.  That is the onus that is placed upon you.
 
Dene Ward

The day after a camping trip is my least favorite.  It isn’t just that the fun is over.  It isn’t just the unpacking and the piles of extra-dirty laundry.  It’s the complete lack of order in the house.
              The linens box, the pots and dishes box, the two food boxes, the tent and sleeping bag box, the boxes of gas canisters, batteries, light bulbs, extension cords, insect repellent, clothesline and clothespins, books and Bibles, along with the tool box, first aid kit, two suitcases and two coolers lie stacked or scattered on the carport and porch, in the kitchen and living room.  Although the linens are all camp linens, no longer used on an everyday basis, they must all be washed—and bleached—before I can put them away.  Everything else must be sorted through.  Some stay packed with the camping gear and others are returned to their regular homes in the pantry, on a shelf, in a cabinet, or in the shed.  The tent must be set up in the field to finish drying and sleeping bags hung to air out.  It is often two or three days before my home is back in order.
              Over the past few years, I have learned to accept a little less order.  Keith’s idea of order does not match mine, but he has had to take over the housekeeping several times so guess whose sense of order reigns then?  But when I go into the shed looking for the garden trowel, I can never find it while he knows exactly where it is.  In fact, he wants the item put right back where I got it, even if it doesn’t make sense to me because of his sense of order.  I learned a long time ago not to touch the top of his dresser, no matter how much it aggravates me.
              We each have a sense of order—no matter how messy others might think it—and we don’t want people rearranging things.  Why do we think God wants us messing with His sense of order?
              God’s sense of order has always had a reason, and while my sense of order is nothing but a selfish desire to keep things the way I want them, God’s sense of order is always for our good.
              The order he imposes upon our assemblies is for the ease of edification.  Camp awhile in 1 Corinthians 14.  If there is no interpreter, don’t speak in tongues because no one will be edified (vv 15-19), and visitors will simply be confused (v 23).  If more than one of you has a revelation, take turns so people can be edified rather than confused by the chaos of more than one speaking at a time (vv 27-28).  Women should not be asking questions to put their husbands forward, when some other topic might be more important to the group at that time (vv 34-35).  Surely we can see applications to today’s assemblies in all of that.  God’s sense of order isn’t about who gets the most floor time, or how much we are entertained—it’s about how much edification occurs.
              God’s sense of order for our lives helps us live happier, safer, and healthier.  We take better care of our bodies, our relationships, and our minds when we follow His order.  Even the ordinances that seemed to have nothing to do with us reinforce the goodness, the righteousness, and the holiness of God—things that are important to making us fit for an eternal life with a spiritual and holy Deity.
              “Surely God wouldn’t mind” presumptuously ignores the fact that the Creator is the only one with the right to impose order in our worship of Him and in our lives of service to Him.  “But I like it this way,” is simply selfishness and a slap in the face to God who has given everything to make it possible to be with Him forever.
              God doesn’t really care if I keep my spare items on the bottom shelf of the pantry and the things actively in use at eye level.  It doesn’t matter to Him that Keith keeps all the garden sprays and powders to the left of the middle pillar on the third shelf.  But the order He does care about, should be my first concern too.  In those things, God’s sense of order is the only one that matters.
 
And by this we know that we have come to know him, if we keep his commandments. Whoever says "I know him" but does not keep his commandments is a liar, and the truth is not in him, 1 John 2:3-4.
 
Dene Ward

I have always spent a lot of time planning my family’s meals.  In the first place, I had a limited budget.  In the second place, I had to use what we grew, and here in Florida that, too, is somewhat limited.  The climate may be warm, but for some things it is too warm, and too humid, and too buggy.  Root cellars, for example, don’t work, not just because of the heat, but because the ground water lies only three or four feet below the topsoil.
              I did my best to provide nutritious meals with the resources I had and that often meant several hours a week combing through recipes and grocery ads, clipping coupons and sorting them while not falling into the coupon traps, and keeping an eye on the pantry and freezer.  After awhile you develop a working knowledge of which store has which brands and their everyday price.  If I buy this piece of meat this week while it’s on sale, I can divide it and freeze half for another week.  At the same time I have something left from a few weeks ago that I bought extra then.  This recipe makes enough for two nights, and I can get away with very little meat in that one because of the [beans, cheese, etc] it also uses.  I should buy the milk at that store this week because it’s on sale there, while that brand is not available at the other store and I also have a coupon that makes it a dollar cheaper.  Some days I feel like I have put in a full day’s work when I pack the coupon box, throw away the clippings, and stow my precious list in my bag.  I don’t know what the boys would say about the meals they grew up on, but they turned out healthy so I must have done all right. 
              We did have dessert often, but we didn’t have ooey-gooey Mississippi Mud Cake every night, nor Elvis’s [hyper-fat, artery-clogging] brownies, nor any of the other super-rich desserts.  Those were for special occasions.  More often it was a blueberry pie, or an apple pie, a homemade chocolate pudding (made with skim milk), or a dish of on-sale ice cream.  Even dessert was a tempered affair.
              We didn’t eat much in the way of junk food and hardly any processed food at all.  I bake from scratch.  I cook with fresh food or food I put up from my own garden, blueberry patch, grape arbor, apple trees, or wild blackberry thickets.  Even those canned soup casseroles were few and far between.  (But they did come in handy and were not banned completely.)  I was careful what I fed my family.
              I am a little worried about some younger Christians these days, who seem to feed their souls on things besides the Word of God.  The same women who almost arrogantly boast that their families never touch anything with high fructose corn syrup or hydrogenated vegetable oil in it, will swallow whole a book of spiritual marshmallow fluff.  Sometimes “inspirational” writings are nothing more than junk food, processed with so much spiritual salt and sugar in them that we develop a taste for them and use them not with the Bible, but instead of the Bible.  I know that’s the case when the Bible way of doing things is considered “too harsh.”  When something sounds saccharin sweet, it’s easy to indulge.  When it’s warm and fuzzy, you want to cuddle right up, not realizing it’s a wolf about to make you his dinner.
              What does God say about all this?  The wisdom of the world cannot “know God” (1 Cor 1:21; 2:6-10).  The wisdom of the world will “take you captive” (Col 2:8).  The wise men of the world have “their foolish hearts darkened” (Rom 1:21,22).  Even what I am writing can do these things if I am not telling you what the Bible says accurately.  It’s your business not to gobble something up just because it tastes good--even my “something.”
              Some of the stuff out there is good and wholesome and may well help you live your life.  But a lot of it is junk food.  It will not only cause you spiritual health problems, it will fill you up so that you cannot take in the real nutrition you need.  Stop and read the ingredient label before you buy it—develop critical thinking skills instead of just blindly slurping up the syrup.  Don’t fall head over heels for the writings of men who are handsome and have a way with words, or women who make you laugh or bring a tear to your eye, especially if they are not even following the Lord accurately in their own lives.
              Watch your spiritual diet and avoid the junk.
 
Let no one deceive himself. If anyone among you thinks that he is wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise. For the wisdom of this world is folly with God. For it is written, "He catches the wise in their craftiness," 1 Corinthians 3:18-19.
 
Dene Ward

So faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of Christ Rom 10:17.

We all know that verse and quote it by rote, which is the problem—we don't think about what it says.  What we have just acknowledged in our quoting is that we can only have as much faith as our knowledge (or lack of) allows.

Every place we have worshipped, we have started a women's Bible class.  We could make a few points about that—about how women are the ones who willingly gather on a continuous basis for extra Bible study—but that's not the issue today.  Today I want to share with you things I have learned over the past 40 plus years about how to have a profitable women's Bible class.

1.  Do not allow it to become a hen party or a gossipfest.  I have heard that accusation in many places.  I have even had women refuse to come to my class because they assume that is what it is.  In fact, even after assurances, I had one woman tell me I was a liar and walk away "because they're all that way." 

It is one thing to have a pre-determined amount of time set aside at the beginning of class (no more than 10 minutes) to share who needs our service that week—meals, visits, prayers, etc., especially before a prayer.  It's quite another to gossip.  

2.  Make it a real study time.   Everyone should understand that there will be work involved outside of class time.  We aren't coming to rehash the same old stuff, things we have known since childhood and can discuss off the cuff.  That would be a waste of a busy woman's time.  Don't allow it to become a gabfest either, but a directed discussion that will actually help people learn and grow.

I have always had a trusted partner to help get the conversation back on track with a carefully worded question.  That way it doesn't sound like a rebuke when we suddenly stop the scattergun approach that has caused the class to stray from topic and go back to the matter at hand—which is learning something new.

I have lost count of the times women have come to class only to leave after a week or two "because it's too much work."  Yes, it's work to learn something new.  You actually have to think a little bit.  You might even need to change your mind about a few things, but isn't that more exciting than the same old same old?

3.  Choose good, deep material that is suitable to the group.  If most of you are widows, why study "How to be a Good Wife?"  In fact, though it is never wrong to revisit those types of studies, even a class full of young wives and mothers needs to learn other things too.  How about the Psalms?  How about the prophets?  How about a topical study like faith?

And don't judge a workbook by its title.  Ask someone who has used it.  For example, my Born of a Woman is often dismissed as "just another women of the Bible book."  Ask someone who has studied it.  You couldn't be more wrong.  I am sure the same is true of many other books out there. 

And a word of caution:  I am hearing about a lot of classes using material that is not Biblical at all.  It isn't that I am against using anything written by someone from a denomination.  I pick up commentaries and Bible dictionaries all the time and the vast majority of the time, they are written by Calvinists of various stripes.  But I know what I am reading, I know what those folks believe, and I know what to beware of.  If you don't, you had better put it down until you do.

And that also means you need to choose a knowledgeable teacher.  She needs to be willing to work harder than ever before in finding those things that are new to everyone, and be willing to go to others (perhaps a preacher or elder?) for help.  What would I have done without a husband who is a walking concordance, whose specialties include Romans, Ezekiel and Revelation, and the history of the Biblical text?  I don't know, but he isn't even the only one I have mined for information.  Don't be too proud to ask for help.

4.  Make it practical.  We are just finishing a three year study I wrote on the prophets.  But we always include the question:  So what does that mean for me?  How can I use this lesson that Isaiah or Micah or Haggai taught?  If all you are learning is pie-in-the-sky theory, how much good will that be to you tomorrow morning?  Theology is great, and yes, women can learn it no matter what anyone else might think, but it won't help you when your life falls apart, when your faith is tested, and you wonder how to put the pieces back together if you haven't learned how to apply the lessons it teaches.

5.  Make your class a safe place.  "What happens in class, stays in class."  Your gathering should be a place where women can ask questions that might raise eyebrows, where women can share faults and weaknesses, and where they can seek advice on touchy, extremely private problems knowing that it won't wind up spread all over the church, where they won't be laughed at, and where their faith won't be questioned. 

However, as a wiser, older woman, that doesn't mean you can't share with a preacher that a certain topic might be a good one for an upcoming sermon without mentioning any names at all.  It doesn't mean that if a soul is in mortal danger you shouldn't go to the elders and ask for help to deal with it.  If you can't trust them to be discreet, why are they your elders?  And they are ultimately responsible for every soul in their care.

6.  Use this class not only to gain knowledge but to deepen relationships.  It really shouldn't have, but it has astounded me how close these groups of mine have become.  Part of that comes from getting together outside of class as well.  The Tuesday morning class breaks about 11:15 and many go out to lunch.  The third Sunday afternoon class eats a fast potluck lunch together, along with the husbands and children, before returning to the building for our 2 hours of study.  We have gone to the hospital together.  We have visited homes together.  When you feel comfortable and safe with one another (see number 5) you want to be together, and togetherness fosters closeness and understanding.  Use it.

7.  Invite others.  Sometimes it's hard to change the dynamic of a group.  We tend to want to keep it all to ourselves.  That's not what a Christian does.  Just as we want to share the gospel, we should want to share with our sisters what we have found in our Bible study group. 

Don't be discouraged.  If you have a class of depth that requires some work, it won't be as popular as the old hen parties of old.  But somewhere more women hunger for the Word just like you did, and they will be forever grateful if you find them.
 
Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation— if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good. (1Pet 2:2-3)

Dene Ward

A few years ago. after an unseasonable two weeks in the month of January that left our azaleas and blueberries blooming, the live oak leaves falling by the bushel, and the air conditioner humming away instead of the woodstove, we finally had a night in the thirties and woke February 1 to frost on the ground—and on all those blooms.
 
             Keith rose earlier than usual to start the sprinkler on the blueberries so when the sun hit them as it climbed behind the trees in the eastern woods, the frost would be washed off and the blooms left undamaged.  He also built a small fire in the fire pit beside them, pulled together from the remains of a fire we had enjoyed the night before with a cup of hot chocolate. 

              Ever since we moved to this plot of ground we have had a fire pit for hot dog fires and marshmallow roasts.  Now with the boys gone, we still like to sit there on a cold night and talk.  We sit there in the mornings too, if coals remain, and some did that day, so, thanks to a considerate husband, I had a fire to warm me along with my second cup of coffee.

              The world was waking up.  Wrens warbled loudly in the shrubs, in between perches on the suet cage.  The hawks cried out as they flew overhead, hunting breakfast.  A neighbor’s cow bawled so loudly I wondered if it needed milking or was just hungry.  Frosted off brown grass may be crunchy, but probably doesn’t offer much nourishment.

              I watched the small fire and scratched Chloe’s furry head.  Suddenly the wood shifted, and the whole fire lowered a bit as the wood beneath completely lost its framework and became nothing but ashes.  Slowly and surely the rest began to burn and fall, and within a few minutes only a twig or two was left glimmering in the white debris beneath.

              One morning recently, when we were sitting by a similar fire planning a camping trip, we suddenly realized that we could no longer plan “twenty years from now” with any reasonable expectation.  I suppose it hit me first when I did the math and thought, if Keith makes it twenty more years he will have outlived all of his grandparents and his parents.  One of my grandmothers lived to 97, but then I realized that I take after my other grandmother more and that would give me only ten more years.

              I am not being morose.  After all, for a Christian, it means the reward is closer, but I think the day it hits you will suddenly change everything you say and do from then on.  It needs to hit you sooner rather than later—life is short, a breath, a wind, a shadow, the grass, the flowers—all of these things are mentioned in scores of places in the scriptures.

              We are just like that small morning fire.  Only half the size of a normal campfire and built on the half burnt remains of the night before, it was gone in moments.  But it still accomplished two things. 

              It provided some warmth in the early morning chill.  The thermometer next to the house said 37 that day, but Keith said the car thermometer, which was not next to a warm wall, registered between 29 and 33 as he drove to work.  In a nightgown, sweatshirt and denim jacket, I needed some warmth while I sat there.  So does the world.  It’s up to me to provide that warmth, which translates as comfort and compassion, to everyone I meet.  As Paul said in 2 Cor 1:3,4, Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.  God gives us spiritual life so we can give comfort to others, not just for our own joy.

              The morning was still dim that day, and the fire also provided me with the light to see around me.  God appeared as a pillar of cloud to lead the Israelites during the day.  What about travel after dark?  And the LORD went before them by day in a pillar of cloud to lead them along the way, and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, that they might travel by day and by night. Exodus 13:21-22.  Isn’t it in the dark of trial, indecision, and despair that we need guidance most?  And when do our neighbors need our help the most?  God means for us to be a light, a city set on a hill, bright enough for all to see even at a distance.

              And then we gradually burn down and the light and the warmth disappear.  Or does it?  Don’t you still remember people who have helped you along the way?  Don’t you still recall their wise and comforting words and their kind deeds?  It only looks like the fire has died, for underneath those feathery white ashes lie smoldering coals that will still warm you and give you light.

              That’s what God expects of this small morning fire we call our lives, and the fire that keeps on giving will be the one that springs to life again on that bright and glorious morning to come.
 
So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom, Psa 90:12.
 
Dene Ward