It was an accident that I saw it.  A bluebird landed on the birdbath and I thought it a little drab, so I looked it up in the bird book and there it was, the bird yes, but also this sentence:  "Like the blue jay, the bluebird isn't really blue."
            I looked again.  Sure looked blue to me.  In fact, the photographer had taken a pretty good picture of it in my book and it was blue there, too.  So what's up with this, I wondered?
            "Feather colors are determined either by pigments, called pigmented colors, or by light refraction called structural colors. Feathers contain two types of pigments. The melanins are sharply outlined, microscopic particles we see as black, dull yellow, red and brown. The lipochrome pigments are diffused in fat droplets and produce brighter yellows, reds and oranges…When sunlight strikes a bluejay feather, the beam passes through the barb's transparent outer layer to the air-filled cavities that scatter the blue light and absorb the longer red wavelengths. Any transmitted light that remains after passing through the box cells is completely absorbed by the melanin. The blue we perceive is actually enhanced in intensity by the underlying melanin-rich black layer."  (Anita Carpenter, Wisconsin Natural Resources Magazine, February 2003.)  Turns out, according to Ms. Carpenter, that blue jays and bluebirds are actually black.
            So, it's a trick of the light, basically, and she also says that the angle from which you look can actually change the blue you see a little bit.  But if you are familiar with the gospels the business about light shouldn't surprise you.
            There are a lot of black-hearted folks out there who do their best to look blue.  Just like the woman in Proverbs 7, they change the word and that keeps it from being sin, they think.  "Let us take our fill of love," she says, when what it is, is "adultery."  In fact, "Making love" in our society can be anything from pure married love to fornication, incest, and homosexuality.  What makes it which?  The light of the Word, that's what.
           ​And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. ​For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed. (John 3:19-20)
          Think about it.  When do most crimes occur?  At night.  What is one thing a lot of people do to deter it?  Leave lights on. 
          The gospel is God's power to salvation, but only for those who will come to its light and repent of their deeds of darkness.  It is no wonder that the Bible is no longer revered in some circles, that it is considered a book of myths, that it is in fact, a book of "Abominable Verses"  (look it up online if you want to see ignorance and lack of context to the nth degree). 
​         But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God.” (John 3:21)  When we are doing right, we don't mind the light.  We know that we will be justified in our works by the Truth of God's Word.  We will in due time become the "light of the world" ourselves when we live by it and the Light personified.
         The light will make our feathers blue, and the black underneath will no longer exist.  It will be washed clean and white.
 
For so the Lord has commanded us, saying, “‘I have made you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring salvation to the ends of the earth.’” (Acts 13:47)

Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

As one reads through the book of Joshua, two main themes pop out:  1) God always keeps His promises and 2) Joshua and the Israelites as a whole were very careful to keep the Law of Moses.  Almost everything in the book revolves around one of these two themes and the themes intertwine.

            Joshua's fidelity to the Law can best be seen in the minutiae of the law.  No one is surprised that he ordered the march across the Jordan as commanded nor that he gathered the people to Shechem to read the law and erect the memorial as Moses taught (Deut. 27:1-8).  What is surprising, perhaps, is that Joshua remembered the "minor" details even in the heat of battle or the rush of victory. 

Josh. 10:24, 26-27  "And it came to pass, when they brought forth those kings unto Joshua. . . .  Joshua smote them, and put them to death, and hanged them on five trees: and they were hanging upon the trees until the evening.  And it came to pass at the time of the going down of the sun, that Joshua commanded, and they took them down off the trees, and cast them into the cave wherein they had hidden themselves, and laid great stones on the mouth of the cave, unto this very day."
 
            He hung them in trees on display, and then tossed their corpses in a cave and sealed it.  So what?  Everything he did there was right out of the Law, that's what: 
"And if a man have committed a sin worthy of death, and he be put to death, and thou hang him on a tree;  his body shall not remain all night upon the tree, but thou shalt surely bury him the same day; for he that is hanged is accursed of God; that thou defile not thy land which Jehovah thy God giveth thee for an inheritance." (Deut. 21:22-23)

            Joshua had them cut down before sunset (same day) cast in a cave and sealed (buried) so the land would not be cursed.  How many God-fearing leaders in Israel's history would even have been aware of that command, much less remembered it after the longest single day battle there ever could be? 
 
            This sums up Joshua's every action as recorded in this book.  He did make mistakes -- the Gibeonites come to mind -- but he was diligent in following the Law.  Even the people were obsessed with following God.  They were angry with Joshua and the leaders because they couldn't follow God's commands due to the vow made to Gibeonites (9:18) and almost began a civil war when they thought the tribes east of the Jordan were building their own altar in contravention of the law (chapter 22). 

            While Joshua and the people were following God's commands, God was busy keeping His promises.  The people got the land promised to Abraham and became a great nation.  God fought for them (Deut. 3:22).  God magnified Joshua (Josh. 3:7; 4:14).  God gave them cities already built, wells already dug, and vineyards already planted (Deut. 6:10-12; Josh. 11:13; 24:13).  This is all summed up by Joshua when he says, "you know in your hearts and souls, all of you, that not one word has failed of all the good things that the LORD your God promised concerning you. All have come to pass for you; not one of them has failed."  (Josh 24:13) 

            Of course, the intertwining of these themes is in the provisional promises of God.  While the Abrahamic promises were not conditional, those to fight with Israel and magnify Joshua were.  If, God says, you follow me, then I will do these things.  In many ways the period under Joshua was a Golden Age because the people did follow God, and therefore He rained blessings on them.  That object lesson is the theme of this whole book. 
 
Lucas Ward
 

Anyone who has sold a home and bought a home understands the dilemma.  Your home must be inspected on behalf of the buyer and the home you are buying must be inspected on your behalf.
            As it happened, the inspection on the home we were buying went first.  Check this, check that, check every tiny detail, we implored, even though I am sure the professional inspector did not need our advice.  Two days later it was our turn.  "Hope he doesn't see that," we thought.  "Hope he remembers that it is 41 years old and cosmetic blemishes should be expected!"
            Isn't it funny, or not, how our standards change when we are personally involved?  But that has always been the case.  Jesus spoke about it in the Sermon on the Mount.  Judge not, that you be not judged. ​For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye (Matt 7:1-5).  Yet somehow, when it's me, things seem so different—even when it is not.
            And so when my neighbor is rude, I reply with rudeness because "he deserves it."  When my co-worker is inconsiderate, I am inconsiderate to him because "why should he expect otherwise?"  When my spouse bites my head off, we preach Ephesians 5 at them, forgetting that both of you are in the middle of a stressful situation or not feeling too good or have lost a parent, or some other event that can have one forgetting to watch his words, and try to be patient.   When the driver ahead of me "gets in my way, goes too slow, forgets to use his turn signal, etc." I can do the same back to him because "he is harming others besides me"—conveniently forgetting the many times I have done the same thing that irritates me.
            And so we go on our way conducting our inspections in the minutest detail while expecting everyone else to inspect us with blinders on.  It has been going on for thousands of years.  Everyone does it, in every culture, in every age.  But our Lord did not call us to be like everyone.  He called us to be like Him.  Even if it is really hard to do.
           
For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy. Mercy triumphs over judgment (Jas 2:13).

Dene Ward

The past few years big black gnats have reached almost plague proportions.  Generally they begin about May and before we know it we are swatting in the kitchen, under the lamps, and especially at the table.  You look down and if you aren't quick enough, the one that lands in your soup drowns in it.  If you talk too much, you swallow one, and you never, ever leave a piece of pie sitting out for longer than five seconds without covering it up.  They breed in the garbage can, in the bathroom drains, and in the burn box.  Every fruit fly trap holds forty bodies in one day's time, and still you swat.
            So we replaced our defunct atomizer, the one that puffs out a spray of insecticide every 15 minutes from its place high on the book case—and noticed no difference whatsoever.  Until we went south to babysit for three days.  When we arrived back home, we trudged in, bodies weary from child love and heavy traffic, and came to a complete halt.  The floor was covered in dead gnats.  You couldn't walk through them without smashing them and tracking them everywhere.  A broom and a dustpan garnered us a half cup of dead gnats.  Now that is a load of bugs!
            You can think you don't make a difference in this world.  Your kind deeds to your neighbors, your level of patience in restaurants and doctors' offices and on the road, your invitations to worship or Bible study, your words of encouragement to a brother or sister in distress seem small and insignificant.  But they are not.  They add up and they will have an effect. 
            You may never know about it.  I meet people all the time who, when discovering who my parents were, suddenly pour out their appreciation for things that I never knew about.  I hear about their love, their generosity, their encouragement, their examples.  I hear praise and gratitude for people I never really thought of as great heroes of faith, and why?  Because I was watching them one atomizer puff at a time.  I never saw the floor full of gnats that accrued after a lifetime of righteousness.
            The same thing can be true of you.  You may not be able to teach a Bible class that converts a dozen sinners in a year, much less a day.  You may not have the time and money to give much more than a couple hours a week to serving, and that scattered about among a large bunch of needy folks.  But you can puff out a kind word here and there, a card of encouragement every week or so, a visit or two every week, a meal for a sick family when needed, and a consistent example of faithfulness in your meetings with the assembly and your daily example of life. 
            So a half a cup of dead gnats is not exactly the metaphor you want to be remembered by, but consider this.  Every dead gnat is a defeat for Satan; a bout with selfishness or an impatient lack of consideration or the distraction with the world that you have overcome by your faithfully pursuing righteousness in your life, one word or deed at a time, again and again and again.  Satan tries to tell you that it won't matter, it's all too small to make a difference.  Show him your dustpan and gloat in his face.
            One puff at a time will get you, and maybe a few others with you, to Heaven.
 
The saying is trustworthy, and I want you to insist on these things, so that those who have believed in God may be careful to devote themselves to good works. These things are excellent and profitable for people. Titus 3:8
 
Dene Ward
 

Today's post is by Philip Strong.

The New Testament is pretty clear when it comes roles and duties in the church that are not the responsibility of women. They are not to be burdened with the obligation of leadership or preaching, cf. 1Corinthians 11:3; and 1Timothy 2:8 - 3:13. Though the reasons for being liberated from these particular aspects of service have to do with creation order, the consequences of ancient transgression, and having other critical duties that take precedence (read carefully 1Timothy 2:13-15), it is also easy to see, if we really look, God’s manifested wisdom in gender-based division of labor within the church. Though women certainly have the capacity for preaching and leading God’s people- as demonstrated by in the Old Testament through the examples of women like Deborah (cf. Judges 4-5) and Esther (Esther 1 -10), their particular nature and skills make them more valuable in other areas of usefulness and service. So, perhaps we’ve been looking at women’s roles in the church from the wrong perspective- as restricted, rather than freed to perform vital tasks for which they are particularly endowed, and for which men are neither particularly suited nor especially capable. Let’s consider an illustrative example.
 
Acts 9:36-42, Tabitha (or in Greek, Dorcas). The text records that “this woman was abounding with deeds of kindness and charity, which she continually did.” If Dorcas had been burdened with the task of preaching and church leadership in Joppa where she lived, who would have performed these vital roles? The men of Joppa? Hardly. While men are created, suited, and tasked with cultivation and provision (see Genesis 2:15; 3:17-18; and 1Timothy 5:8), they are not nearly as well-equipped by the Creator for deeds of “kindness and charity” as women. Though men’s heads and backs are well-suited for growing and harvesting crops of cotton or flax, neither their hearts nor hands are well-suited for the gracious and compassionate act of turning such raw materials into “tunics and garments” for those in need. But Dorcas, being endowed with both the heart of compassion and the hands of particular skill, was free to use them both to the glory of God in service to others.
 
Consider another aspect of this account from v.42, “And it became known all over Joppa, and many believed in the Lord.” The “it” to which the text refers is surely the raising of Dorcas from the dead in v.41, but ponder a much-related question: Why was Dorcas raised? Surely, women died in Joppa almost if not daily. Why was this woman resurrected? The answer seems obvious enough- Dorcas was raised because the content of her heart and the quality and quantity of her service prompted her fellow Christians to call for Peter, cf. vv.36-39. I do not believe they wanted him to simply “preach her funeral.” Understanding at least somewhat of the power of the Holy Spirit wrought through this apostle (cf. Acts 5:14-16), they wanted Dorcas back! And they got her back, vv.40-41! Her miraculous return to life resulted in many believing in the Lord. Why? Because God through Peter raised a woman from the dead? Yes, in part. But why was this woman raised from the dead in the first place? Because she was a valuable preacher and leader in the church at Joppa? Certainly, but her preaching wasn’t done in the pulpit nor was her leadership over the assembly! She proclaimed Jesus through the compassion of her heart and the skills of her hands, and led and inspired others through service in the kingdom. Being liberated from the roles of public preaching and leadership, both her nature and abilities were free to be better utilized to great effectiveness in the private sector- resulting in many becoming believers!
 
“But I can’t sew and make garments.” You don’t have to sew garments to “sow seeds of the kingdom.” There are many other areas of private service that, like Dorcas’ deeds, can have great impact in preaching Jesus and leading souls to Him. Consider 1Timothy 5:9-10 where a partial list is provided. Women can serve through:
• Being the wife of one man; being a suitable helper by freeing him from other tasks to perform those for which he is more suited by the Creator, Genesis 2:20; by assisting him in the private teaching role which she is permitted, Acts 18:24-28; and by being the kind of wife that allows him to fulfill his public responsibilities of preaching and leadership, 1Timothy 3:1-13 (especially v.11);
• Having a reputation for good works; obviously, Dorcas is a prime example, but consider also the instructions of Titus 2:3-5;
• Bringing up children; the importance of this role and responsibility cannot be overstated, cf. 1Timothy 2:15, and can be well-illustrated through Eunice and Lois with regard to Timothy, cp. Acts 16:1-2 and 2Timothy 1:5;
• Showing hospitality to strangers; men, by nature and responsibility, are somewhat suspicious of strangers and protective of their families; women, again by both nature and responsibility, are more caring and nurturing- not only of their own, but also of others in need, cf. 1Kings 17:10-16 and Mark 12:42-44;
• Washing the saints feet; though this particular act of service is not needed now as it was when most travel was done on foot, a willingness to serve, in whatever capacity, is still needed- even if only to rejoice or weep with those who rejoice or weep, cf. Romans 12:15;
• Assisting those in distress; which may include helping those whom others are unable to help, 1Timothy 5:16; and,
• Devoting themselves to every good work; the eternal judgment scene depicted in Matthew 25:43-40 is predicated upon assisting and providing for those in need.
 
So, rather than viewing the role(s) of women “in the church” as restrictive because they are prevented from public preaching and leadership, we need to see that with these areas of responsibility given to the men, women are freed from such to provide services for which they are uniquely qualified and eminently capable. Through the divine grace of their hearts, and the endless compassionate nurturing and provision of their hands, women are much better suited to provide tremendous impact in and for the kingdom through these vital areas of service. In these things, we need to understand the wisdom of God’s order in division of labor. “For just as we have many members in one body and all the members do not have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually members of one another. And since we have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let each exercise them accordingly: if prophecy, according to the proportion of his faith; if service, in his serving; or he who teaches in his teaching; he who exhorts, in his exhortation; he who gives, with liberality; he who leads, with diligence; he who shows mercy, with cheerfulness,” Romans 12:4-8. In the Lord’s body, there are no unnecessary parts, or unneeded roles. Perhaps we’ve just been looking at them from the wrong perspective!
 
(Philip C. Strong; Southport Church of Christ; 7202 Madison Ave, Indianapolis, IN 46227; online at southportcofc.org; email to mrpcstrong@hotmail.com)

I have had my bird feeders now for over ten years.  What began with one wooden trough and one hummingbird feeder is now that trough plus five hanging feeders, two suet cages, and two hummingbird feeders.  If you have been with me long, you know all the lessons we have gleaned from all those birds.  I keep a list now of every type of bird we have seen and it has grown to 47. 
            If you had asked me before I would have told you no, we don't have more than a dozen varieties here in the backwoods.  Part of that mistake came because all we offered our birds was bird seed.  We put out a block of suet after a couple of years, and suddenly we had a couple more kinds.  Finally I read that offering them water would increase the number you saw.  Not every bird is a seed-eater, but they all need water.  Suddenly instead of just cardinals, titmice, chickadees, wrens, sparrows, and catbirds, we had brown thrashers, blue jays, black and white warblers, bluebirds, grosbeaks, ovenbirds, buntings, and a host more.
            We need to think of these things in terms of offering our congregations to our friends and neighbors.  What are we offering our communities?  A place to "worship right"?  Or a vibrant, supportive community of believers, growing and active, constantly involved with each other and the work?  Which one do you think will inevitably attract more people?  Let's be honest.  A church that "worships right" won't mean a thing to most unbelievers in the beginning, not like it did sixty or seventy years ago, but a group that shows their care and devotion to one another and the Lord, and who reaches out to them, even and especially in their need, can break down walls that can eventually, with time and teaching, become an understanding of Truth and the Mission the Lord has left us with.  "Worshipping right" will take care of itself.
            Stop throwing seed at the meat-eaters.  Put out some living water and watch them come!
 
Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” The woman said to him, “Sir, you have nothing to draw water with, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob? He gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did his sons and his livestock.” Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I will not be thirsty or have to come here to draw water.” (John 4:10-15)

Dene Ward

It's like my Heavenly Father knows exactly what I need.  Why should I be so surprised?
            This spring God has sent me all the birds one rarely sees, just one more time as they pass through on their way north.  Goldfinches, bluebirds (that hatched in our own bluebird houses), northern parulas, indigo buntings, red-winged blackbirds, a Cooper's hawk, a yellow bellied woodpecker and a rose-breasted grosbeak.  It took 17 years to see all those birds, usually one or two kinds of those a year along with the usual crowd, and now here they all are, sitting on my water pans and at my feeders.  When I sit at my chair by the window, I already miss them.  Then I look around where my boys played in the big cluster of live oaks they called "the fort," the big oak where they built the doghouse with their Dad, where they swung off the limb 15 feet up (because swinging on a normal limb was not exciting enough), the field where they played football, baseball, basketball, and even croquet, and I get a little weepy.
            And wouldn't you know it—we have been reading through old journals and right now have come upon those we wrote when we first moved to this place.  The memories are flooding back like a dam has broken, not always good ones I must admit.  Many times we wondered if we had made a huge mistake coming here, but now, after all the toil, after all the worry, after all the stress, we understand how much we have grown, how much stronger we are, and what a wonderful home we managed to make for our family—in spite of it all.
            And now we can leave with some pride.  It may not be a mansion.  It isn't even a House Beautiful photo shoot.  We won't even make enough off of it to buy a new place outright and will have mortgage in our old age, something we never intended.  But this time we are sure we can handle whatever happens.  We have handled things you wouldn't even believe, and we can do it all again, if a little more slowly.  All those trials we came through have given us confidence—not in ourselves, but in the God who helped us for so many years before.
            And now He is reminding us with all those little birds—not sparrows, but birds that are rarely seen in any of our neighbors' backyard feeders.  He is watching them, and he is watching us—again.  And with that kind of help, we can make it through anything.
 
The LORD is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O LORD, have not forsaken those who seek you (Ps 9:9-10).
 
Dene Ward

When life hands you a need to move to another location, you suddenly see your home with fresh eyes.
            We have been on this property 38 years.  Our boys were 6 and 8 when we bought this land, so most of their growing up memories are here.  Our pets are buried on this land, several under blooming perennials so we will always know where they lie and can see them from a distance.  Between landscaping the rain flow with a shovel and the boys' little red wagon (we couldn't even afford a wheelbarrow in the early days!), growing an 80 x 80 garden every year, then canning and preserving and pickling all summer, cutting wood for the woodstove which kept our electric bill where we could afford it in the winter, shooting poisonous snakes, marauding bobcats in the chicken pen, and rabid animals, and hauling water for days after every hurricane until the power came back on, we have watered this property with our literal blood, sweat, and tears.  Little by little we fixed it up exactly like we wanted it.  No other manufactured home of this age has a kitchen the size of mine with the umpteen feet of counter space stretched over 17 cabinets and 13 drawers.  And no other has a porcelain-tiled screened porch connected to an oversized carport.  No other has a shower you could have a party in! (We didn't.)
            Then there is the property itself.  Driving down the lane canopied with live oaks makes guests slow down just so they can look around.  In the spring, the entrance to the "yard" portion of our five acres is guarded by azaleas covered with blooms, and the same blooms surround the house.  But let's back up. 
            We start the year with the yellow trumpets of Carolina jessamine in January, followed by azaleas of all shades in late January and throughout February.  The amaryllises begin to open in March.  About that time the climbing roses start in and last a good month before taking a break through the heat.  In April the jasmine nearly knock you over with their fragrance, and the wildflowers show their first color with fire engine red and pink and white phlox.  In May we can count up to 70 day lilies every morning.  The wildflowers will last through June with loads of bright yellow black-eyed Susans finishing up the color parade of red, pink, orange, purple, and yellow that began back in late April.  Then the heat kicks in and things slow down, a few blue plumbago brightening the heat waves rising from the ground and maybe a rose or two and the crepe myrtles.  By October we are back in full swing—mums overflowing their bed, followed by camellias in late November and December, and on we go to the jessamine again in January as the cycle begins anew.  But now…
             Now we will start all over again, with something smaller and nowhere near like we want it, and with very few years left to make it that way.  And it will be in a subdivision!  In the city!  I am certain that when we turn our heads for one last look as we drive down this beautiful lane on our way to a new place and a new life, our eyes will tear up and our throats will tighten.  Most of our lives were lived on this ground and in this far from luxurious home, but it was ours and we loved it.
            And then we will both remember—there is a far better home awaiting us.  One with far more glory than even the billows of colorful blooms, and far more warmth and love than even the memories of little boys climbing trees and chasing balls of all sorts, rolling around on the grass with their beloved yellow lab Bart, gathering eggs, silking the corn before the assembly line of putting it up in the freezer, cheeks full of fresh blueberries along with blue-stained lips and fingers.  Yes, something far better, far more glorious, so far above what we think is special here that we cannot even imagine the truth of it despite God's attempts to describe it in our language.
          And we will never, ever have to drive away, leaving it all behind for someone else who won't realize how precious it all is.  That last home will be our forever home, and that is the only one that really counts.
 
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls (1Pet 1:3-9).
 
Dene Ward

You would think after all these years that I would know better.  You should never take a brand new recipe to a potluck or try it out on guests.  There is a reason cooks talk about "tried and true" recipes.  But I saw this gorgeous "Chocolate Glazed Peanut Butter Filled Torte" in a magazine, one that is usually trustworthy, and wanted to make it.  Keith and I do not need rich desserts around the house for just us two, so taking one somewhere else means we seldom have more than a piece or two to splurge on when we bring the remains back home—which may sadden my heart, but not my waistline.  It looked good, the ingredients sounded good, and I had them all which was an added bonus.  So here we go…
            This was one of those uber-rich cakes with scarcely enough flour to hold it together.  When I read that I was to cut this two inch thick layer in half, fill it, and then put the top back, I should have known there would be trouble with so little flour.  And there was.  First, it sank about halfway in the middle.  That meant when I took my long serrated knife and tried to cut it in "half" there was nothing in the middle to cut.  What I cut off looked like a tire.  Calm down, I told myself as my pulse and respiration increased, the filling will show through there and it will look like it's supposed to be that way. 
            But then I tried to remove that top.  It came away in sections.  You would have thought a Lamaze class was going on I was panting so hard by then, but I carefully put the pieces on another plate and kept them all where they were supposed to go.  "There is a chocolate ganache glaze," I kept chanting.  "Ganache fixes anything!"
            I got the peanut butter filling on and learned immediately to be careful spreading it, otherwise the cake sticks to it and rolls right up over the knife.  More panting and chanting.  Finally I got the filling spread on the bottom layer.
            Now it was time to reassemble the jigsaw puzzle of a top.  Except the cake was so moist that a thin layer of it stuck to the plate the top was sitting on.  And the large sections broke into small chunks.  Gradually, I got all the pieces put back on top of the cake.  With the peanut butter filling, the torte was now nearly 3 inches high, in spite of losing a good eighth of an inch on that other plate, but it looked like a chocolate mosaic.
            No one has been happier to make ganache than I was that day.  This will cover all sins, I told myself.  It will be shiny and beautiful.
            Oh, it was nice and shiny all right, but underneath that glistening surface you could see every lump and bump, every nook and cranny, every place where anything underneath was not absolutely perfect.  Kind of reminded me of the last time I tried on a dress a size too small.
            So now what?  Do I take this monstrosity to our potluck?  Well, it was a tiny little potluck made up of one of my classes and their families and they always count on me for an entrée and a dessert.  I had no time left to make another after having spent not only two hours on this ugly thing, but another one on the entrée and another couple studying.  And besides that, this thing was expensive.  I sure couldn't afford to throw it away.
            So the next afternoon I took my so-called torte and apologized for bringing the ugliest thing on God's creation to our lunch.  For some reason, it didn't stop them from eating it, and one even asked for the recipe.  "Sorry," I told her, "I threw it away."
            Well, guess what?  Every one of us is an ugly cake.  God took beautiful ingredients and made us "in His own image," but for some reason we all eventually turned out just plain ugly.
            We have all sunk into the morass of sin and crumbled beneath its weight.  Even when we proclaim our commitment we often manage to stick to things we should have let go of.  We fall to pieces in trials and temptations instead of standing strong.  It took Him a few thousand years of piecing things together, fixing the things we made even more messes of, and spending the most awful cost to do it, but He made us into a cake that tastes pretty good when we follow His directions.  Oh, the lumps and bumps may still show through occasionally.  Our imperfections may leave scars that simply cannot be hidden, but He is ultimately satisfied when we forget about trying to fix things ourselves and just do it His way, not worrying what others might think about how we look.  He won't give up and throw us away, but will take us to the Feast he has prepared, and will not be ashamed of what an ugly cake we were to begin with.  After all, ganache—in this case, grace—can fix anything.
 
Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me. (Rev 3:20)
 
Dene Ward

The cliché is now true—my doctor is my social life.  When you start seeing the same issues of the same magazines in four different offices, you know it's so.  So the other day I actually found a new magazine to look at:  Country Living.  Let me look through this, I thought.  Maybe I am one of the few here who could appreciate it. 
            Boy, was I wrong.  In fact, the title of this magazine was wrong.  This was not country living it depicted.  It was some wealthy people who decided they wanted to get out of town and thought the peace and quiet would be wonderful, but only a few minutes a day of it.  I know them personally.  We have several within a mile of us.  One of their homes (well, it might as well have been one of the ones near us) was showcased in a ten page spread so you could copy their decorating schemes.  Notice these items:
            Plank floors in a 15 x 20 kitchen--(Are they planning to square dance in it?)
            A pedestal sink in the "powder room"--(A powder room?  A mud room out in the country, maybe, but forget powdering your nose if you're going out to the garden in June or July.) 
            Cabinet hardware at $25 each piece--(A $25 cabinet knob?  I mean, really, all you do is pull the thing, and sometimes you still have some of that garden mud on your hands when you do, or maybe a bunch of pie dough.)
            $35 each throw pillows in an all-white room--(An all-white room in the country?  Where there are no sidewalks and you have to walk through the mud to get to the steps?)
            $1400 each wicker chairs on the front porch--(I couldn't relax just walking ten feet away from a $1400 chair, much less sitting in it.  And no one in their right mind would shell peas or shuck corn in it. So what's it good for?)
No, this is not country living.  It is mere pretense.  In fact, our experience has been that these are the folks who pack up and head back into town (a 50-60 mile round trip) 5 or 6 days a week to go shopping, play a round of golf or a set of tennis, have lunch with the girls, or get a manicure.  The only thing they do in the country is sleep.  Try inviting them to help with hog-slaughtering day in return for a share of the meat and watch them melt into a pale puddle of angst.
            But—take a look around you on Sunday morning and you will find that this magazine isn’t the only place for pretenders.  Some people go to church because you are "supposed to."  That's what good, moral people do.  I grew up around a lot of folks like that.  Some choose a place out of convenience, not because they believe what it teaches.  Others go because their parents raised them that way, not out of any real conviction.  Some go for the benefits—people come see you when you're sick, someone will always help out if you have a need, and there is always a preacher handy for weddings and funerals.
            So let's think about it this morning.  Why am I where I am on Sunday mornings?  If I can't come up with an answer beyond the ones above, I just might have a problem.  I might be no more a Christian than those folks I know who are not "country people," no matter where their home happens to be located.  God expects a commitment—one of the heart, one of faith, one of understanding what you believe and why, and being willing to stand up for it. 
God expects Christians who really are.
 
“As for you, son of man, your people who talk together about you by the walls and at the doors of the houses, say to one another, each to his brother, ‘Come, and hear what the word is that comes from the LORD.’ And they come to you as people come, and they sit before you as my people, and they hear what you say but they will not do it; for with lustful talk in their mouths they act; their heart is set on their gain. And behold, you are to them like one who sings lovely songs with a beautiful voice and plays well on an instrument, for they hear what you say, but they will not do it. (Ezek 33:30-32)
 
Dene Ward