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

Yes, there are more obvious things we simply read over in Psalm 23.  (Scroll down for part 1 if you missed it.)
              When do you usually hear a reading of the twenty-third psalm?  Funerals and deathbeds, right?  We have consigned this little gem to those two occasions, probably because of the translation, “the valley of the shadow of death.”  Yet, if we had simply done a little study—very little, in fact—instead of just accepting what we always hear and assuming it the beginning and end of the matter, we would have found many other uses for this psalm.
              “The valley of the shadow of death” is actually one Hebrew word--tsalmaveth—and it can mean “deep darkness.”  It is, in fact, translated that way in the modern versions.  Yes, in Job 38:17 it seems to refer to physical death, but in Jer 2:6 it refers to the wilderness wandering, certainly a dark era for the people of God.  In Jer 13:16 it refers to the coming destruction and captivity, perhaps their darkest period.  In Job 34:22 I am not certain what it refers to, but it certainly isn’t death.  This is important because all of us experience times of deep darkness in our lives.  To know that God is with us during those times too, not just at death, is a comfort beyond any other.
              And do notice this, God is the one leading us to and through this dark place.  In fact, coming immediately after “he leads me in paths of righteousness” (literally, “right paths”), this dark place is the right place for me to be.  It may be a severe trial, but for some reason I need to be there.  It is right for me to be there, and God will lead me “through” it.  He will not put me there and leave me there.  Even something as severe as losing a child, becoming disabled, or becoming terminally ill, is one He has led me to and through, accompanying me all the way. 
              But there may well be other kinds of dark places I must go through, and will realize He has been with me when I get out on the other side.  That is, if I have remained His faithful servant, trusting in His wisdom and care.  As long as He is with me, “I will fear no evil.”  It may be that His presence involves correction or discipline (His “rod and staff”), but I know that He loves me and this is the right place for me to be, and that even in this dark place, “goodness and mercy follows me,” that is, “pursues” me.  His goodness and mercy are on the hunt for me, even in the dark places--especially in the dark places.
              Don’t miss out on the gold in this little treasure chest just because you have heard it all your life.  Use it to help you navigate those dark places, with Him as your guiding star.  Trust Him, as this particular genre of psalms is called, the Psalms of Trust, or Psalms of Confidence--in God. 
              You can make it through the dark to a light beyond, which is also implied, for you can’t have a shadow without a light shining somewhere.
 
The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? When evildoers assail me to eat up my flesh, my adversaries and foes, it is they who stumble and fall. Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war arise against me, yet I will be confident. One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple, Psalm 27:1-4.
 
Dene Ward

Back in my younger years I was a jogger.  If you missed the story, slip over to the right sidebar under “categories,” and click on “Country Life.”  Scroll down to “One Fencepost at a Time”—even farther back than “Backwards One Fencepost at a Time”—and you can read about it with its own lesson of encouragement.
            When I finally progressed to jogging on the highway instead of the cow pasture (explained in that previous post), the first time I took nearly twice as long as I should have to jog the same distance.  Ordinarily, jogging on a firm surface is easier because your feet push off and the momentum is with you instead of all sinking down into the dirt, sand, mud, or grass of the softer surfaces.  That was not what slowed me down.  What kept distracting me were the things I had passed every day for three years and never seen before.
            In a car, you usually see the road, the signs, and possible problems—other cars, animals both domesticated and wild, pedestrians, potholes, discarded bottles, trash bags that fell off other vehicles, boards that might have nails in them, pieces of blown tires.  You must look for those things if you want to avoid an accident. 
            But that morning as I jogged slowly by I found out for the first time that a tiny creek ran through a four foot diameter culvert under the road just past the neighbor by the woods.  I discovered a path through those same woods that led to a ramshackle cabin a hundred feet off the road, nearly hidden by the ramrod straight pines.  I discovered that another neighbor had a second driveway, much smaller, that led to a shed behind the house.  Then as I approached the bridge over the New River, I found a path snaking off to its side, probably used by fishermen looking for bait, or kids swimming in the shallows.  All those things had been there the whole time I had, but it was as if I had discovered a brand new place.
            That is exactly how I felt after our ladies’ class studied Psalm 23.  I almost skipped that one—everyone knows it.  We all memorized it as children.  If there is a Bible passage in a movie, it is apt to be that one.  Why should we include that in what I hoped to be a study of brand new material for most of us?  Because it was brand new material, too.  I had gotten out of the speeding vehicle passing through it, and had jogged at a slower pace, seeing the details for the first time.  We are going to talk about what I found this time and next.
            Psalm 23 is classified as a Psalm of Trust.  I doubt that David, Ethan, Asaph, Solomon, Heman, the sons of Korah, Moses, or any other of the writers of the psalms actually made a decision to write a particular type of psalm and then followed some carefully laid out pattern.  No, the elements and patterns have been analyzed by scholars thousands of years removed from them, but it is interesting that they do follow something of a pattern.  For instance, Psalms of Trust (some call them Psalms of Confidence [in God]) tend to view God in metaphorical terms.  He is variously called a shield, a fortress, a rock, a shelter, a master [of slaves], and in this familiar psalm a shepherd.
            But here is the part I always missed—the metaphor in these psalms is apt to change abruptly, as it does here in verse 5.  Suddenly God is depicted as a host.  Some of the older commentators do not want to see this change, but please tell me, when was the last time you saw a sheep eating at a table or drinking out of a cup?  No, the shepherd feeds the sheep in verse 2: he makes me to lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters.  Sheep eat grass and drink water, and the shepherd has fed them exactly what they want and need.  Now it is the host’s turn to feed his friend in a brand new metaphor.
            And notice this, the host in verses 5 and 6 is not just an acquaintance fulfilling the obligations of hospitality in the Eastern tradition.  He is a close friend.  He takes you into his house not just for a meal but to “dwell forever.”  Indeed the Hebrew word for “house” often implies “household.”  That last verse could easily and correctly be translated “and I will remain in the family of the Lord forever.”  We’re not talking about being a pet sheep in the family, but a human member of the family, someone who eats at the table with the rest of the family, the truest sign of acceptance in that culture.
            See what you miss when you just breeze through an old familiar passage without a second thought?  You need to get out of the car and walk through it, paying attention to every detail and thinking about every nuance.  That’s how you learn new things.  And this new thing is nothing compared to the one I will show you tomorrow.
 
So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, Eph 2:19.
 
Dene Ward

Monday morning I was outside for a good while, exercising Chloe, feeding the birds, pruning some dormant perennials in hopes of a good summer’s bloom.  While I puttered around, my mind wandered here and there, but eventually stayed on an idea for a devotional.  By the time I finished I had the thing half-written in my head, a good introduction, a nice outline, and even a punchy ending.  But I came in needing to study for my Tuesday morning class, a study that took nearly three arduous hours and left my brain frazzled, my neck aching from poring over the books and papers, and my eyes needing to do something besides focus so intently.
            The next day I spent in town, our usual one day a week of Bible class and all the stops we need to do at once to save the gas required for more than one sixty mile round trip.  Then Wednesday we left early for a dentist appointment that was one of the worst ever, leaving me fit for nothing but going to bed with a pain pill.  Then Thursday we had more appointments and by the time I sat down on Thursday night to type, my half written devotional was nothing but a vague memory in the back of my mind.  I sat for nearly half an hour trying to grab onto it as it floated just out of reach.  Finally I gave up and here I sit without that wonderful piece I was so excited about.
            I know this forgetting thing happens to you too.  Do you know how frustrating it is to teach something in a class, then six months later when it comes up in a sermon by a visiting preacher you can hardly get your next class started because everyone is so excited about this new truth they "just heard" the past Sunday morning?  I find myself sitting there thinking, “Where was your mind when we did this six months ago?”
            Keith feels the same frustration when he un-teaches a faulty concept that many have grown up with, watching the light bulbs go on one by one, only to have those same people repeat that faulty concept yet again the next time that passage comes up.  Yes, it happens to all of us—we forget what we have learned all too easily.
            Do you know how to avoid that?  I keep a notebook handy to jot down ideas that come up in my head when I don’t have time to sit down then and write.  The problem last Monday was not getting inside as quickly as usual and so forgetting to even put the idea in my notebook. 
            Learning involves some work.  I just sat through a wonderful class on a prophetic book I have never studied before, and never heard taught in any church anywhere.  What amazed me was the fact that only two of us were even bothering to take notes.  How much do you think the others remember now, several months later? 
            Come let us reason together…God says to His people in Isa 1:18.  That Hebrew word also means argue, convince, correct, dispute, judge, and many other words that involve thinking.  God will not listen to anyone try to argue, dispute, or convince Him of anything if that person has no clue what he is talking about.  I will be that clueless one if I do not study the Word of God and meditate (think) on it.  I will be equally clueless six months later if I have done nothing to help myself remember what I have learned.  I certainly won’t get it by osmosis from the pew I am sitting on or by an airborne germ just because I am sitting in the building where it was taught.
            Rene Descartes was the French philosopher who came up with this famous notion:  I think, therefore I am.  The guy did a whole lot of thinking his whole life long, but on February 11, 1650, he stopped thinking.  He died.  At least he had that excuse.  What’s yours?
 
And count the patience of our Lord as salvation, just as our beloved brother Paul also wrote to you according to the wisdom given him, as he does in all his letters when he speaks in them of these matters. There are some things in them that are hard to understand, which the ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction, as they do the other Scriptures. You therefore, beloved, knowing this beforehand, take care that you are not carried away with the error of lawless people and lose your own stability. But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be the glory both now and to the day of eternity. Amen, 2 Pet 3:15-18.
 
Dene Ward

Another checkup, another new disorder.  I did not realize there were so many things that could go wrong with an eyeball.  Remember freshman biology in high school?  The model of the eye sat up on its white plastic pedestal stand, and you could lift off the layers and see the various parts of the eye:  the cornea, the pupil, the iris, and the retina.  You might see the optic nerve running off from the back, and if you had a particularly diligent teacher you might hear the words sclera (eyeball skin) and vitreous humor (eyeball fluid), but that was it.  That is what we were all taught an eyeball was made up of.  Let me tell you, that is not even half of it!
              My knowledge has come a long way in the past 17 years, but once again I have learned something new, something else that can go wrong.  I won't trouble you with the four word disorder or describe it.  Here is the frightening thing:  within five years I could need a cornea transplant to save the eye.  HOWEVER, in all caps, italicized, and underlined, the so-called easy cure is not for me.  All these other problems I have make me a horrible candidate for that surgery—unless there is just no other choice.  And should that be the case, the complications may very well cost me the eye.
              My vision may now have a real, concrete time limit.  So what do I do in the meantime?  Of course I pray.  That is obvious.  I have already had one timely "coincidence" save my vision for a while longer.  God can certainly make that happen again.  But in the words of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, "Even if he doesn't…" how shall I prepare myself for the days of darkness ahead of me?
              Instead of making this a totally self-absorbed post, let's consider your days of darkness, too, because it does not have to be blindness we are talking about here.  What is troubling you?  What lies ahead in your life that either might come or definitely will come, all things being equal?  What should any of us do to prepare for those frightening times?
              Let us fill our minds with the good.  Are you reading his Word on a daily basis, not just a minimal chapter a day, but a good hour of real study time?  Are you spending time with brothers and sisters in worship, in study together, in encouragement and exhortation?  Have you ever taken advantage of the extra studies that take place during the week, both at the building and in homes?
              Do you follow the admonition of Paul?  Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honorable, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. The things which ye both learned and received and heard and saw in me, these things do: and the God of peace shall be with you. (Phil 4:8-9)
             Or do you spend more time on Facebook, surfing the web, playing video games, watching mindless or, worse, worldly entertainment, or any number of other time-wasters that are using up the precious time you have left?  How are you preparing for the moment when all you will have due to a disability or an illness or other circumstance is what you have stored in your heart?
              The days of darkness will come, sooner or later, for all of us.  What will see you through it?
 
For it is you who light my lamp; the LORD my God lightens my darkness. (Ps 18:28).
 
Dene Ward

Don't ever think that a seven year old doesn't listen to the conversation around him.
              Judah probably heard it several times, the story of his great-grandfather's death, when his great-grandmother—Gran-gran—sat next to the bed and told her beloved just before he passed to wait for her at the gate.  He heard it again at her funeral just before we sang "When All of God's Singers Get Home," when his uncle said, "I can imagine them walking through that gate hand-in-hand, two of God's singers just got home."
              That was two days before Thanksgiving, and a few days later he told his parents that he wanted to add something to his prayer list:  that Gran-gran could find her husband in Heaven.  He had never known "her husband," who passed almost exactly a year before Judah was born.  Evidently he had imagined the scene and wondered how they could possibly find each other in the crowd and he didn't want Gran-gran to be lonely.  His daddy assured him that they had probably already found each other and were together again. 
              He continued asking questions about the man he never knew, so when he came for Christmas I asked if he would like to see some pictures.  We had just gone through my mother's things and I had several at hand, from the seventeen year old high school graduate to the twenty-five year old Army draftee in Korea to the sixty-five year old gray-headed retiree, many with his sweetheart from high school days, Judah's Gran-gran.  I told him that we all called him Papa because that is what I had called my grandfather too.  By the end of the session, he could point to even a picture from the 1950s and say, "There is Papa."  Gran-gran's husband had become a real person to him, someone he was related to.
              I was thinking about the preciousness of all of this when it suddenly occurred to me that I knew people who would have tsk-tsked me for telling my seven year old grandson that his great-grandparents were back together in Heaven.  They would have pointed to stories in the Bible to prove that is not what life after death actually is—at least not yet.  In fact, I can think of a few who would have accused me of lying to the child.
              I recall at least three Biblical depictions of life after death.  Each is different, and every one of them involve some sort of figurative language.  Who are we to say that one or the other is the true and literal picture?  God gave us those images to comfort us.  Each has a point that makes us less afraid of death and more confident in our own destiny.  As a parent or grandparent, God expects me to give my own children images they can relate to just as He did for His children.  It isn't lying to talk about "waiting at the gate" any more than it is for God to tell us about streets of gold and pearly gates or for Jesus to say, "I am the good shepherd," when he was actually a carpenter.  I am simply following my heavenly Father's example in comforting my children.
              Like the Pharisees, somewhere along the way we have missed the point of it all.  We have, as Jesus cautioned, "strained out the gnats and swallowed the camel," Matt 23:24.  We have forgotten how patient Jesus was with the weak and the babes:  "a bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not quench, until he brings justice to victory; (Matt 12:20).  Instead we go plowing through the shrubbery heedless of anything but making our point and "being correct," when the whole point of figurative language is not to be literal at all.
              A seven year old child is now comforted.  As he matures in the Word he will come to know that what he was told was an image to help him understand and make him feel better.  He will know that no, it probably was not exactly that way—those gates are figurative after all.  But he will have learned the point in a way he will never forget:  that God loves His children and plans to live with them forever, and that his great-grandparents are among those children.  And, even better, he can be with them again one day.
 
But whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to stumble, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.  (Matt 18:6).
 
Dene Ward

She took him into her home.  She fed him.  She offered him a place to rest, a place he felt safe.  Then, when he was sound asleep, she knelt next to him and pounded a tent pin through his temple. 
            Many times I have heard Jael, the wife of Heber, described as a sneaky, devious, blood-thirsty woman.  We in our civilized, politically correct, white collar world decry any ancient blood-letting as barbaric, even though people of our own era commit atrocities, from the mega-massacres of Stalin and Hitler to the mob mentality that runs rampant in both the inner cities and suburbia at the lowest flashpoint, be it outrage or fear.  So, in our blindness to our own hidden savagery, we read the account in Judges 4 with a jaundiced and arrogant eye.  If we had spent any time at all on the song of Deborah in Judges 5, we would have avoided contradicting divinely inspired opinion about Jael’s actions.  Blessed above women shall Jael be, v 24.
            Certainly that should settle the matter.  Just for the added emphasis of common sense, though, let’s ponder this question:  What was this nomadic shepherd woman, alone at home, supposed to do?  Should we require that she meet a trained warrior, the captain of a mighty army, in a fair fight?  Indeed, I read that the customs of the day said for a man to force his way into another man’s tent, or to merely enter that same tent when the man was not at home, was an action worthy of death. 
            But how do we reconcile this type of behavior with Jesus’ teaching.  I say unto you, love your enemies, do good to them who hate you; bless those who curse you; pray for those who despitefully use you.  To him who smites you on the one cheek, offer the other also; and from him who takes away your cloak, withhold not your coat also.  Give to everyone who asks and from him who takes away your goods, ask them not again.  And as you would that men should do to you, do also unto them likewise, Luke 6:27-31.  Some would say, “Jael was under the old law. Things are different now.”  While that is so, it only skims the surface of the matter.
            Old Testament Israel was a physical kingdom with a physical king sitting on a physical throne.  They fought physical wars using physical weapons.  Isaiah prophesies a coming kingdom where they shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks, nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more, 2:4; a kingdom that would have no physical boundaries, but would encompass the whole world, one into which all nations shall flow, 2:2.  Jesus established that kingdom, the church, his throne not on this earth but in Heaven.
            Yet we still fight battles.  Paul spent a good amount of time detailing our armor (Eph 6), our weapons and battle tactics (2 Cor 10), and the characteristics of a faithful soldier (2 Tim 2). 
            Every time we overcome temptation, we win a battle; every time we speak of our faith to others, we take an enemy captive; every time a Christian leaves this world, having been faithful to the end, we pound a tent pin into the temple of Satan.  If we are too politically correct to fight a battle, if we are too finicky for hand-to-hand combat, if we are too “civilized” to pick up a sword and slash our way through the enemy forces, we don’t have what it takes to be a follower of Christ.
            Make no mistake about it.  You are going to war today.  Be prepared to fight in it.
 
Suffer hardship as a good soldier of Christ, for no soldier on service entangles himself in the affairs of this life, that he may please him who enrolled him as a soldier, 2 Tim 2:3,4.
 
Dene Ward

“Do you love me, Peter?”
            “Lord, you know I love you.”
            “Feed my sheep.”
            Most of us are familiar with the scene on the seashore recorded in John 21.  I think we make a lot of fuss over the word “love” in its various permutations because we have read a Greek dictionary and think we have suddenly become scholars with great insight.  In reality there is considerable disagreement about what Jesus and Peter may or may not have intended. 
            However, most people agree that Jesus repeats the question three times because of Peter’s three denials.  Peter had already repented in bitter tears and was surely forgiven, but this gave him the opportunity to make amends in another, more direct way.
            Peter takes a lot of grief for his failings.  I have heard many say, and have more than likely said myself, “Peter gives me hope.  If the Lord will take him, surely he will take me.”   Why do we think we are any better than Peter? 
            Is it any less a denial of the Lord as the master of my life when I fail to act as He would?  Is it any less a denial when I fail to speak His word in an age of political correctness?  Is it any less a denial when I fail to follow His example in forgiving my neighbor, my brother, my spouse, or simply the other driver or shopper or the waitress or store clerk?  Is it any less a denial when my life matches the world instead of my Savior’s?  I may stand up and confess His name on Sunday morning, but it’s how I live my life the rest of the week that truly tells the story, and neither the circumstances nor the provocation matter.  All of my reactions to the circumstances of life and to other people are either a confession or a denial of Jesus as the Lord of my life.
            How many times should the Lord ask me, “Do you love me?”  How many second chances do I need?  How many will I need just today?
 
But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.  All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and Jehovah hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. Isa 53:5,6.
 
Dene Ward

We were standing on the carport one evening when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.  I turned just in time to push Keith out of the path of a garter snake determinedly chugging his way up the slope to the concrete slab.  We called the dogs off and allowed him to meander under the mower and off the edge of the pad to the cool darkness under the porch.  A few days later he made another appearance and we discovered his home when he wriggled away—the hollow pipes supporting the metal roofing of the carport.
            I have come a long way in 35 years--from a city girl who screamed and ran from a foot long, pencil-thin, bright green garden snake to a country woman who understands the value of a snake on the property—God’s original mousetrap.  I will never be a snake lover.  I went out one afternoon and found him stretched out at the foot of my lounge chair.  I got the broom and shooed him back into his pipe.  My dogs can sit at my feet and have their heads scratched, but with Mr. Snake it is only a matter of “live and let live.”
            Too many times we take that attitude with Satan.  Yes, he is out there every day.  Sometimes we even bump elbows in passing, but we don’t have to stop and politely say, “Excuse me.”  Don’t give him a cool spot on the carport and an idle belly rub with your bare toes.
            If this garter snake were one of the four poisonous varieties we have in this area—all of which we have seen on our land—he would not be tolerated.  Although my guys may tell funny stories about me and snakes, they cannot deny that I know how to make like Annie Oakley when a bad one comes along.  I have killed them with a shotgun, a .22 rifle, and a .22 pistol.  I have killed them with rat shot and buckshot.  When necessary I have used a shovel.  I have lost count of how many poisonous snakes I have killed.  They get fewer every year.
            How are we doing with Satan?  Does he think his presence is tolerated, even welcome?  Or does he know that it’s dangerous to be around us?  He is fighting a losing battle and he knows it, but that won’t keep his poison from killing us if we allow him to get too close.
 
Do not give opportunity to the Devil, Eph 4:27.
 
Dene Ward
 

On our recent camping trip we had a lot of wildlife for company.  Yet it was neither frightening nor bothersome.  The only animal we saw besides the usual birds and squirrels that lived in the campground itself was a young raccoon who moseyed up to the woodpile, so interested in the spot where Keith had slung some cold coffee that he didn’t see us until about the same time we saw him.  All of us were startled and he fled for cover.  Yet I am positive we had much more company out in the woods.
            If I did not see them, how do I know?  Because as we hiked the park’s fifteen miles of trails over the next four days, we saw their tracks: the cloven hoof prints of many deer, the tiny handprints of other raccoons, the small padded paws of bobcats, and the deep, heavy prints of wild boars, along with places they had torn up the ground rooting and wallowing.  There were not just a few of these tracks either.  We saw far more animal tracks than people tracks on our daily hikes.
            I bet you believe me now, don’t you?  Yet God’s fingerprints are all over this world of ours and it seems that every year fewer people believe in Him.  They might as well believe that animals don’t exist in the forest; it would make about as much sense. 
            But people have been behaving this way for thousands of years. I am reminded of Moses performing his signs before Pharaoh.  The Egyptian ruler did not want to believe in Jehovah as the one true God.  He had his many magicians replicate Moses’ signs with their tricks.  Finally though, they reached a point where they could not do so. 
            “This,” they said to Pharaoh, “is the finger of God.”
            Would that men would be so honest today.
 
For the invisible things of Him since the creation of the world are clearly seen, being perceived through the things that are made, even His everlasting power and divinity; that they may without excuse, because that knowing God, they glorified Him not as God, neither gave thanks, but became vain in their reasonings and their senseless heart was darkened.  Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools, and changed the glory of the incorruptible God for the likeness of an image of corruptible man, and of birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping things.  Wherefore God gave them up…Rom 1:20-24.
 
Dene Ward