I was humming that old tune a few weeks ago when I suddenly thought of that phrase in a slightly different light.  “Tell me about it!” we sometimes say to people who are complaining about something, not realizing that we have had the same or worse experience.  Or sometimes people say it to us, and if we are as mature as we like to believe, we suddenly stop whining out of sheer embarrassment, realizing that here is not only one who has had the same experience, but to an even worse degree.  I often wish Jesus were here to say that to those who complain about his church.
            So they hurt your feelings?  They didn’t come see you when you were sick, they didn’t help you when you were depressed, they didn’t praise you in public after you did a good deed, the preacher preached a sermon that stepped on your toes, and you don’t like the way the Bible class teacher looked right at you when he mentioned a particular sin. 
            Tell it to Jesus.  No one complimented him on his sermons. They usually just got mad and walked away.  Even his own disciples scolded him for insulting the Jewish rulers.  They called him a liar, a blasphemer, a madman, demon-possessed, and a child of fornication, none of which was true.  He didn’t sit there pouting, he kept right on teaching, right on serving, even people who didn’t deserve it, like you and me.
            So the elders won’t listen to you, especially when you think you have discovered something new.  They won’t use you in the way you think you should be used.  You aren’t asked to lead the singing as often as you think you should, or teach the classes you think you should be allowed to teach.  They won’t give in to your pet ideas about how things should be said or done or presented.  So why should you bother to try any longer?  Why should you keep a good attitude, or do the things you are asked to do as well as you can when you aren’t even appreciated?
            Tell it to Jesus.  I found ten passages in the gospels where the people in charge “communed with one another” to see how “they might destroy him.”  At least seven of those ten were completely different events.  Has anyone in the church done that to you yet?  Has anyone taken up rocks to stone you?  Has anyone nearly pushed you over a cliff?  Has anyone even come close to crucifying you yet?
            No, but the church is full of hypocrites.  Why should I even have to sit in the same building with them?  Why can’t I just leave and do it my own way?  You know their two-faced worship isn’t acceptable to God, so why must I keep company with them? 
          Tell it to Jesus.  He never stopped attending the synagogues on the Sabbath, and that wasn’t even part of the Law, it was simply a tradition that had begun after the return from the captivity.  He still attended the feast days right along with all those horrible people, even the Feast of Dedication, which was just a civil holiday.  He never left the work God gave him to do because someone hurt his feelings.  He never quit because people didn’t give him the due he deserved.  He never allowed the sins of others to cause him to forsake the God who deserved his love and loyalty.
            Are you going to let those phonies do that to you?  If you do, doesn’t that make you one of them?
 
…The LORD is with you while you are with him. If you seek him, he will be found by you, but if you forsake him, he will forsake you. 2 Chronicles 15:2
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.
 
            In 1 Sam. 2 the man of God comes to Eli with a horrifying pronouncement.  Eli's family was to be removed from the priesthood; none of his descendants were to live to old age, and his two sons were both to die on the same day.  This would happen because Eli had not reined in his wicked sons and their perversion of the worship of God.  Then, in chapter 3, the first message received by Samuel as a child prophet is essentially a repeat with one addition:  "And therefore I have sworn unto the house of Eli, that the iniquity of Eli's house shall not be expiated with sacrifice nor offering forever." (1 Sam. 3:14)  Why the repeat?  Why the later statement that sacrifice would not work as a means to avoid the punishment?
            A similar thing happens later with King Saul.  In chapter 13, because of the sin with the offering, Saul is told that the kingdom would be removed from him and given to a man after God's heart.  Then in chapter 15 he is reminded that he was anointed at God's command and that he should listen to God.  After he fails to obey God's instructions against the Amelekites, Saul is again told the kingdom would be taken away from him.  This time God instructs Samuel to quit praying for Saul (16:1). 
            Why did God repeat his pronouncements against Eli and Saul?  I think in each case God was letting Eli or Saul know what was coming because of their sins and allowing them a chance to repent.  It is spoken as a done deal but is actually more of a warning.  We see this same kind of judgment declared against Nineveh in the book of Jonah.  Jonah's message was simply "Yet forty days and Nineveh shall be overthrown" (3:4) and yet when the city repented, God relented.  Jonah was so aware of God's mercy that he had expected it.  In all three cases we see bald statements of doom without an "unless", but it seems that in each case God was allowing for repentance.  Why else repeat the judgment to Eli and Saul?  And so we see a lesson of God's mercy.
            There is also another lesson here.  When Eli and Saul refused to correct the error of their ways God reached a point at which He would no longer show mercy.  Eli is told that sacrifices would no longer expiate the sins of his house and Samuel is told to stop mourning for Saul.  Their sins had reached a point at which God would no longer remove the earthly consequences of those sins.  So, while we see the mercy of God, we also see a warning.  Do not keep flirting with sin until God decides you are a lost cause.
 
Rom. 11:22  "Behold then the goodness and severity of God: toward them that fell, severity; but toward thee, God's goodness, if thou continue in his goodness: otherwise thou also shalt be cut off."
 
Lucas Ward

I truly hope that things are better now, but as late as 30 years ago, the Lord's church was possibly one of the most unloving, unsympathetic organizations on God's green earth—at least when it came to these women.  And you are wondering what in the world I could be talking about, aren't you?  Look at the title of this essay and think a moment.
            I am talking about women whose husbands have abandoned them, and often their children too, for the world and other women.  Let me use the words of several of these women—I have known about a dozen of these poor souls—to make my point.
            One of them said to me when I invited her to our services some time ago, "It's been my experience that the churches of Christ are not welcoming to divorced women."  Nothing I could say about my then church family could persuade her otherwise.  Another told me, similarly, "They always wonder what I did wrong, and a few have had the nerve to ask me."
            Let me tell you, that's the first thing these women ask themselves when their husbands leave.  They don't need us asking too.  When Jesus gave this one exception for divorce he did not add, "unless she was a nag, or a bad cook, or a poor housekeeper, or gained too much weight, etc."  If a man commits adultery against the woman he vowed to love and cherish for the rest of his life, that's all it took in Jesus' eyes to put him away and still be right with God.  How dare any of us add to His Word?
            Another woman said she was shunned by the other women of the congregation, and somehow it came back to her that they were afraid that now she would want their husbands.  Excuse me?  She wasn't the one who broke up a home, her husband was.  Talk about unjust judgment.
            Another told me it wasn't just she who was shunned, but her children as well.  After all, statistics say that people from broken homes are more likely to have broken homes themselves. We wouldn't want our sons or daughters to be dating her children and possibly marry them!  And so we shun innocent children?  Shame on us.
            As if these terrible injustices were not bad enough, the faith of these women is also questioned.  One had lost her home when her husband left and paid no alimony or child support.  She, who had been a stay-at-home mom, had to work two jobs to keep a roof over their heads and food in their tummies.  When she was offered a job that had great benefits and paid enough for them to survive on only the one job, she counted it a blessing from God and took it.  But others looked only at the fact that it was an evening shift job and she had to miss both Sunday evening and Wednesday evening services.    One of the church leaders' wives said to her, "If you had enough faith, you wouldn't take that job."  Yet this was a woman who came to both Sunday morning services plus the weekday morning women's Bible study without fail.  She is one of the kindest, most generous, good-hearted Christians I have ever known.  She loves to study the Word of God, and does so every day.  Neither she nor the other women I have known, except the first one I spoke of, have left the Lord despite how His other children have treated them.  Now let's compare faith, shall we?
            I hope this situation has changed everywhere, instead of just the few churches I am aware of who are, indeed, better.  Imagine struggling to make ends meet, trying to overcome for your children the horrible example of a faithless father, and having no one to turn to, not even in that group who should be comforting, loving, helping, and encouraging.  Now imagine what the Lord himself would say to that group.  You do not want to hear those words.
 
And he said unto his disciples, It is impossible but that occasions of stumbling should come; but woe unto him, through whom they come! It were well for him if a millstone were hanged about his neck, and he were thrown into the sea, rather than that he should cause one of these little ones to stumble (Luke 17:1-2).
 
Dene Ward
 

I do not mean to leave you discouraged, so let me share some success stories with you.  After all these years, we have a few, and I do believe God meant us to share them with one another (Acts 14:27). 
            I remember a lot of baptisms.  Keith has baptized in swimming pools, sunken bathtubs, and ponds.  I remember standing right at the shore, cold water lapping at my feet on a chilly January night as a young woman came up out of the water with him, and wrapping her in blankets as quickly as I could.  I remember him coming home one night, sticking his legs out of the truck door to show me the damp hems because a Bible study had resulted in the birth of a babe in Christ.  I remember the night we stood on the edge of a swamp, bullfrogs croaking a bass chorus and headlights shining over the weedy waters, as he baptized a young man he had studied with for several weeks.  I believe it was May and I remember thinking, surely God will keep the snakes at bay tonight!
            I remember some neighbors up the street in another state, who had started coming to services, and her to our women’s class, and who wanted so badly to be baptized one Sunday morning, they wouldn’t even change into robes.  “We came in these clothes, and these clothes are going down with us, right now!” the man said.  I think we did persuade him to remove his wallet and take off his shoes.
            I remember another young man who faithfully completed the correspondence course, asking good questions along the way, and then sent back his final lesson with the note, “I’m ready to be baptized.”  He attended faithfully until he moved away.  I remember another young man whose commitment was restored after a long talk, who brought his wife to us, and has gone on to begin a church in an area where there was none, still faithful after thirty years
            God sends you other encouragements if you just pay attention.  One neighbor had seen us leave every Sunday morning, and when suddenly she had custody of her three grandchildren, she called, wanting us to take them to church with us.  We certainly would have loved to have her as well, but we didn’t look down on the opportunity.  For two years those children were dressed and waiting every Sunday morning at 8:00.  I have no idea if that has borne fruit, but I do know this—when the woman died, her children asked Keith to speak at her memorial.  Something had been planted and it did have some effect.  That’s all God asks us to do.
            Sowing the seed is not a part-time job.  For a Christian, it’s a career.  Get on with it.  No one will be judged by the results.  Just remember that every person you come across is a potential field and everything you do can affect the results of your planting.  That is what you will be judged on, not the number of splashes.
            God wants sowers.  He wants waterers, and, we hope, plenty of harvesters.  The seed will yield its crop, but don’t get so busy counting ears of corn that you forget to plant the next row.
 
For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it. Isaiah 55:10-11
 
Dene Ward

I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase, 1 Cor 3:6. 
            We should probably talk some more about that discouragement issue because it never goes away.  You teach and teach and teach; you invite at every opportunity that comes along; you serve and reach out, and yet it seems like nothing comes of it.  If you aren’t careful, you stop trying.  It isn’t doing any good, is it?  That is not for me to say. 
            I told you before of the young woman I tried to reach so long ago.  Just because I have no contact with her now, doesn’t mean nothing came of it.  I remember having discussions during free periods in high school.  I took friends to Bible study with me.  I wrote essays in English class that I knew would be passed around the class for comment.  I have never seen anything come from any of that, but as Keith often says, I don’t need to be whittling on God’s end of the stick.  He is the one who gives the increase.  When I start meddling in His affairs, I become disheartened.  If I stick with my own end, I will stay too busy to worry about the results.
            I suppose my biggest dose of discouragement came a couple of years ago.  Some new neighbors had moved in a few years before and she and I became friends.  I easily recruited her to a local community service club, but anything religiously oriented was a different story.  So I invited her to a coffee at my home where she met some of my church family.  So far, so good.  I invited her to our women’s Bible study, and immediately she distanced herself.  Too much too soon, I thought, so I had a church friend whose decorating ability she had shown interest in, invite her to lunch at her home, along with another church sister.  An instant yes, but then as the day approached my neighbor suddenly developed something else she had to do.
            So I backed off again.  I still mentioned the church to her as often as possible, telling her how wonderful they were.  I made sure she knew about all the help I received after all the surgeries, and she was genuinely impressed so I invited again, including a written invitation.  Still nothing. 
            Then one day, her husband called to tell me she had died without warning.  No one even knew she had been sick.  In fact, we had talked on the phone just three days before.  It was like a kick in the stomach.  I do not believe I have ever felt quite so discouraged in my sowing duties.
            That is exactly what the enemy wants, and that is exactly why you need to stop worrying about God’s end of the stick.  When the depression is accompanied by grief it is especially debilitating.  All you need to remember is this:  Just. Keep. Sowing! 
            Since that time I have suddenly had more opportunities to speak to people.  God is encouraging me, I thought, so I have tried to do my part as well.  I am anything but the Great Evangelist, but here are a few things I have tried. 
            When I have the car maintenance done, I purposely make the appointment right before ladies’ Bible class so I can use the shuttle service to the class.  You would be surprised how many drivers want to know what I will be teaching, and then ask about the church.  I have even managed to give out a few tracts.
            When I buy my groceries I do it before Bible class and then have the bagger put the cold things into my cooler.  “I have to teach a Bible class before I go home,” I explain, and that has led to conversations too.
            I carry my Bible and my notebook to doctor’s appointments and write these little essays there.  As many appointments as I have, surely someone will be interested some day.  Even the cleaning lady recognizes me now.
            I have no idea if any of these things will bear fruit, but I do “consider him faithful who has promised,” Heb 11:11, and he promised to see to the growth of the seed if I just sow it.
            Don’t become depressed when you don’t see results from your work.  That part is none of your business.  Just keep sowing the seed.  You do your part, and He will do His.
 
What then is Apollos? What is Paul? Servants through whom you believed, as the Lord assigned to each. I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. He who plants and he who waters are one, and each will receive his wages according to his labor. 1 Corinthians 3:5-8.
 
Dene Ward

A long time ago a young woman I had met in the small town where we lived asked me for some advice.  Her marriage was suffering and she didn’t know what to do. 
            I was too young for her to be asking me, but she had found out I was “a preacher’s wife,” and thought that automatically made me a font of wisdom.  When she finally asked her question, my answer came easily (and with a sigh of relief).  The problem was a perfect fit for a scripture in Corinthians and I simply had her read what the inspired apostle said about it.  I didn’t have to say a word.
            Her mouth hung open in shock.  “That’s the answer,” she said.  “But why haven’t my own church leaders been able to show me this verse?”  It was not a difficult passage to find.  Anyone who has grown up attending Bible classes in the church would know where to find it.  The fact that men who called themselves her spiritual leaders could not help her with the same passage gave me an opening, and we began a Bible study that lasted several weeks. 
            I was far too idealistic.  I thought when people saw it in black and white, they would instantly change, and that left me wide open for hurt and discouragement.  We finally reached a point where her conscience was pricked and she was floundering about, wondering what to do. 
            “Would you come again next week and talk to my church leaders too?” she asked, and what could twenty-two year old me say, but “Of course, if you don’t mind if my husband comes with me.”  She agreed enthusiastically.
            All of us met the next Tuesday evening at her home, me with all sorts of great expectations, and an hour long discussion ensued.  To make a long story short, they simply told us that they had more faith than we did because they would accept a piece of literature as inspired which contained neither internal nor external evidences, the kind of evidences that make the Bible obviously true.  I was flabbergasted, and learned my first lesson—some people will believe what they want to believe, not what is reasonable to believe.
            The next week I went to her home on Tuesday morning for our usual study.  She met me at the door and, with tears in her eyes, she said, “I’m sorry.  They told me I can’t study with you any more.”
            “But don’t you want to?  I helped you when they couldn’t.” 
            “I know,” she said.  “But they are my leaders, and I have to obey them.”
            Talk about discouraging.  What do you do when someone who is good-hearted and clearly sees the truth allows herself to be taken in by people who obviously cannot—or will not--even help her with her problems?  It isn’t just the stubborn and willful who reject the word of God, another new lesson for me to learn.  In fact, it takes strength of will to accept it when it means you must stand against friends and family, and when your life will experience an instant upheaval. 
            So here is the main lesson today:  Be careful whom you trust.  Be careful whom you allow to direct your path, and have the gumption to take responsibility for your own soul.  If someone who wanted the truth could allow it to slip through her fingers so easily at the word of people who were never there for her until it became obvious their numbers might go down, it could happen to you too.  The religious leaders in Jesus’ day looked down on the people with scorn (John 7:49), yet those very people followed them right down the road to Calvary, berating a man who had stood up for them more than once to those same leaders, pushing him to his crucifixion. 
            And here is another lesson:  don’t let your idealism make you vulnerable to discouragement.  I will always remember that young woman.  We moved far away not long afterward. As far as I know she stayed where she was religiously, and never found her way out of it.  But I do have this hope—I planted a seed.  God is the one who sees to the increase, 1 Cor 3:6.  Don’t ever in your mind deny God the power to make that seed grow.  I am not as idealistic as I used to be, but I still hope that someday I will meet her again, standing among the sheep.
 
But false prophets also arose among the people, just as there will be false teachers among you, who will secretly bring in destructive heresies, even denying the Master who bought them, bringing upon themselves swift destruction. And many will follow their sensuality, and because of them the way of truth will be blasphemed. And in their greed they will exploit you with false words. Their condemnation from long ago is not idle, and their destruction is not asleep. 2 Peter 2:1-3
 
Dene Ward

In the country the power can go out for no apparent reason.  You expect it in a storm.  Limbs break and fall on power lines.  Ground becomes saturated with rain and the trees uproot themselves and fall over, taking the lines underneath with them.  Lightning strikes sub-stations and transformers.  All of that is understandable.  What is not is an outage on a calm, sunny day, something that happens far more often in the country than in town.
            When you are not expecting an outage, it can cause problems.  I once put a sour cream pound cake in the oven only to have the power go out twenty minutes later.  (Yes, the sun was shining brightly.)  I needed another 40-60 minutes of 325 degree heat.  I was afraid to take the cake out, but unsure how the residual heat would affect the cooking time, nor how the reheat time would affect it when the power came back on.
            I decided to leave it in the oven, thinking that it was less likely to fall from that than from suddenly moving it from the oven heat to room temperature when it wasn’t even half-cooked.  Two hours later, the lights came on and the oven began reheating itself.  I compromised on the time and with the aid of a toothpick was able to find the moment when the cake was done but not over done.  It was a little more compact than usual, but it didn’t fall, and it tasted fine.
            When you live in the land of unexpected outages, you really appreciate the consistency of God’s power.  Eph 1:19 tells us it is immeasurable, which means it cannot be contained and is therefore infinite.  Romans 1:20 simply mentions “the eternal power” of God.  Whenever we need it, it is there for the asking and nothing can deplete it.  Every time I hear someone say, “There are so many others with bigger problems, I hate to bother God with mine,” I wonder if they really understand the “eternal” power of God.
            God’s power guards us (1 Pet 1:5); it strengthens us (Eph 6:10; Col 1:11); it preserves us (Psa 79:11); it supports us in our suffering (2 Tim 1:8); it redeems us (Neh 1:10).  Paul prayed that the Ephesian brethren would know that power, the same power that raised Christ from the dead (1:19,20) and the same power that can answer any request we might possibly think of (3:20).  And, he says, that same power works within us as well.
            When the storms of life rage around you, you will not have to worry about the power going out.  In fact, that power will be stronger the more you need it.  Paradoxically, we are never stronger than when we need God the most because we are letting Him take care of things.  Counting on yourself is the weakest you will ever be, and that usually happens on the sunny days, the days when life is easy.  On stormy days, the days when we finally give up and lay it all before God, the power at our disposal is awesome. 
            The Light never goes out, or even dims in a brownout, when run by the power of God.
 
Ascribe power to God, whose majesty is over Israel, and whose power is in the skies. Awesome is God from his sanctuary; the God of Israel--he is the one who gives power and strength to his people.  Blessed be God! Psa 68:34-35
 
Dene Ward

Sometimes I wish we taught classes in our churches specifically about what to look for in a mate.  I have seen too many young people looking at only the outer man to decide whether he is suitable to marry.  One of the best pieces of advice I ever got was to imagine your boyfriend as the father of your children.  Do you want them to grow up like him?  Sometimes I think young ladies get a little more desperate than young men and are willing to settle for just about anyone, as long as he has been “dunked” and sits on a church pew.  Big mistake, girls.  I am not sure I did a better job of looking for the right things, but I sure wound up with better than most, so let me tell you what makes a real man, having been married to one for 50 years now.
            A real man is not too embarrassed to worship God with all his heart and let everyone see it.  So what if he cannot sing like one of the “Three Tenors” or even the latest teen idol?  If it is obvious that his heart is in it when he sings, let him bellow all he wants!  David, a warrior-king, surely a man’s man in every sense of that phrase, wrote unabashedly emotional songs to God, prayed to him night and day, and worshipped so fervently he embarrassed his wife, 2 Sam 6:16ff.  Don’t let yourself get caught in her trap, and ultimate curse.  If your present boyfriend cannot even make himself mutter loud enough for you to hear right next to him, and makes it obvious that the assembly of the Lord’s people bores him to death, particularly if he claims to be a Christian, do you really need another reason to question staying in that relationship?  Training your children to love God is hard enough without having to fight the example of the other parent.
            A real man takes care of his family, no matter what that involves.  What is your fellow’s record at home?  Does he willingly do the chores his parents have given him, or do they have to nag?  Does he balk at particularly dirty jobs and even refuse to do them?  I do not mean complain once in awhile—that should be allowed.  But there may come times when your husband has to get out there and do things for the family which are pretty disgusting.  I can remember a time when all of the plumbing in the house was totally plugged up and my man had to go outside at ten o’clock at night, dig up the top to the septic tank, then lean down into that nasty, smelly hole with a long stick and manually unplug the drainpipes.  He never balked at changing diapers or cleaning up after a sick child.  He has even held my head while I was sick.  If your guy is too finicky for such things, he is a weakling!  Real men are strong enough to do what has to be done.  Mine has dug ditches in a driving rainstorm to keep our house from washing away, and dug a well in a cold January rain despite a 102 degree fever because we had had no running water in the house for a month and could not afford a professional.
            Third, real men are not selfish.  Does your boyfriend ever do what you want, or are you always stuck with his choices in entertainment and activities?  (On the reverse, do the two of you only do what you want?  A real man has opinions of his own and is not run by his woman.)  Does he go out of his way for you?  Does he act like a gentleman, dropping you off under the covered entry and then running through the rain himself?  …offering you his coat when you are cold?  …carrying heavy things for you?  Or does he just treat you like one of the boys and let you fend for yourself?  And most important, has he ever hit you?  Does he constantly criticize you, and ridicule you, even in front of others?  Does he order you around and act jealous every time another man even looks at you?  Does he get angry and yell, then blame his explosion on you?  Drop everything right now and leave as fast as you can.  A husband is supposed to nourish and cherish his wife, and treat her as well as he treats himself, Eph 5:25ff.  He is kind and considerate, and looks out for his wife’s best interests, whether they are in his best interests or not.  That is God’s description of a real man.
            Every marriage will have its ups and downs, dealing with hardships and sorrows along the way:  financial problems, health problems, family problems.  Look at him now.  How does he deal with mishaps?  With upsetting circumstances?  With aggravating people?  Does he whine?  Does he crack under stress?  Is he volatile, even frightening?  Can you tolerate even being around him when he is not happy or does he make everyone miserable?  Whom does he rely on?  Whom does he go to for advice and comfort?  Is it even possible to comfort him, or is he inconsolable?  It’s one thing to comfort the man you love in a crisis.  It’s another to put up with an immature, irresponsible man with no self-control, and even need protection from him because he has hit a rough spot in the road and cannot deal with it like an adult.
           A real man keeps his word.  If your boyfriend has gone back on any promises to you or anyone else, what makes you think he will honor the vow, “For better or for worse, till death do us part?”
            Last, but certainly not least, is he romantic?  If he is already your fiancé and you are not hearing, “I love you,” even once a week, you will find yourself starved for it in ten years, and even wondering if it is true any longer.  Every relationship needs the grease of affection to handle the natural frictions of living together.  I hear those three magic words no less than half a dozen times a day, sometimes limited only by the number of times he can call and still give his employer a full days’ work.  Along with love notes and wildflowers, hand-picked on the way home from work, and more hand-holding than a couple of teenagers, I have no doubt that this man would give his life for me without a moment’s thought, “as Christ also loved the church and gave himself up for it,” Eph 5:25.  Will you have that kind of assurance?
            So don’t go out there looking for a cute one, a popular one, or a rich one.  When it comes down to real life—not some fairy tale fantasy—none of that makes a difference.  In fact, if that is all you go by, you probably won’t live happily ever after.  I lucked out and got a guy who gets better looking as the years go by, but even if you don’t, you can still be like me and be happier as the days go by, instead of more and more miserable because you made a rotten choice based on shallow, fleeting values.  Be careful.  This is one of the most important decisions of your life.  Whom you marry will affect you as a Christian, and your ultimate destiny, more than any other decision you will make.
 
So the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and while he slept took one of his ribs and closed up its place with flesh. And the rib that the LORD God had taken from the man he made into a woman and brought her to the man. Then the man said, "This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man." Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh. Gen 2:21-24
 
Dene Ward

Wrens are known for making their nests in strange places.  On the carport, the old exercise bike has become the place to hang things, including the old coffee can we use to scoop Chloe’s feed from the fifty pound bag, and then shove sideways on one handle bar until the next morning.  One Saturday afternoon, after Keith had used the can in the morning, a wren couple went to work right under our noses and built a nest inside it in less than an hour.  When we discovered it, Keith grabbed some duct tape and ran a piece along the side of the can onto the handlebar to hold it steady.  We both hated the thought of the wind or a jostle by one of us knocking the can to the ground, especially after the eggs were laid.
            We have been checking the nest every few days, bending down with a flashlight to look inside.  That mother is obviously devoted, sitting there staring at us through the beam, not moving a muscle though we are only a few feet away from her.  We try to make our intrusions short and no more than once every other day or so.  Last Saturday we looked in and saw a mouth.  An hour or so later there were three more--a fuzzy gray mound of down and four wide open mouths, swaying back and forth, eagerly searching for whatever we might have brought.  I hated to disappoint them.
            From time to time we see the parents flying back and forth.  They come with a mouthful and leave just a few seconds later—over and over and over.  The only time those tiny mouths are closed is when the babies are asleep.  While they are awake, mama and daddy get no rest for they are never satisfied.  It is never enough.
            That is exactly what God should see from us—wide open mouths.  If you think attending every service and even extra Bible studies makes you one who “hungers and thirsts after righteousness,” you have missed the point.  Certainly we need the nourishment provided when the flock is fed the word of Life, but that isn’t even half of it.  Like newborn infants, long for the spiritual milk that by it you may grow up unto salvation, Peter tells us in his first epistle, 2:2.  The point is the longing for the spiritual instead of the physical; understanding that the point of this life is training for the next.
            Yes, you need a good background in the scriptures.  I am often appalled at how poorly my brethren know them.  But where there is no desire for righteousness there will be no spirituality.  Where there is no longing for God, learning facts will simply be an intellectual exercise.  We must be like baby birds—nothing but a wide open mouth that will not be satisfied until the bread of life has completely filled it. 
            What are you longing for today?  Wealth will not satisfy.  Health will not satisfy.  Status and fame, not even our fifteen minutes’ worth, will satisfy.  The only true satisfaction can come from God. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore…For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water…, Rev 7:16-17.
            The only way to receive that promise—for your hunger and thirst to be filled--is to be hungry and thirsty in the first place. We should all be nothing less than another hungry mouth to feed.
 
As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like the bread the fathers ate and died. Whoever feeds on this bread will live forever. John  6:57-58.   

Dene Ward                 

When we first moved to our property in North Florida, we were surrounded by twenty acres of woods on each side.  We sat at the table and watched deer grazing at the edge of the woods while we ate breakfast.  Our garden was pilfered by coons and possums that could ruin two dozen melons and decimate a forty foot row of corn overnight.  We shot rattlesnakes and moccasins, and shooed armadillos out of the yard.  At night we listened not only to whippoorwills singing and owls hooting, but also to bobcats screaming deep in the woods.
            Then one morning I walked out to the chicken pen to gather eggs.  I stepped inside warily because the rooster had a habit of declaring his territory with an assault on whoever came through the gate, and as I watched for him over my shoulder, I realized that my subconscious count of the hens was off by one or two.  So I scattered the feed and carefully counted them when they came running to eat—one, two, three, four…nine, ten, eleven.  One was missing.
            I scoured the pen.  No chickens hiding behind the coop or under a scrubby bush.  I checked the old tub we used to water them just to make sure one had not fallen in, as had happened before.  Nothing quite like finding a drowned chicken first thing in the morning, but no chicken in the tub.  Then I left the pen and searched around it.  On the far side lay a trail of feathers leading off to the woods, but Keith was away on business and there wasn’t much I could do.  The next morning I counted only ten chickens and found yet another trail.
            We were fairly sure what was going on.  So when he got back home that day, he parked the truck up by the house, pointed toward the chicken pen, and that night when the dogs started barking, he stepped outside in the dark, shotgun in hand, and flipped on the headlights.  Nothing.  Every night for a week, he was out with the first bark, and every night he saw nothing.  But he never stopped going out to look.  At least the noise and lights were saving the chickens we still had.
            Then one night, after over a week of losing sleep and expecting once again to find nothing, there it was--a bobcat standing outside the pen, seventy-five feet across the field.  Keith is a very good shot, even by distant headlight.
            I still think of that trail of feathers sometimes and shiver.  I couldn’t help hoping the hen was already dead when she was dragged off, that she wasn’t squawking in fear and pain in the mouth of a hungry predator.
            Sometimes it happens to the people of God.  We usually think in terms of sheep and wolves, and the scriptures talk in many places of those sheep being “snatched” and “scattered.”  It isn’t hard to imagine a trail of fleece and blood instead of feathers.       
            I think we need to imagine that scene more often and make it real in our minds, just as real as that trail of feathers was to me.  Losing a soul is not some trivial matter.  It is frightening; it is painful; it is bloody; it’s something worth losing a little sleep over.  If we thought of it that way, maybe we would work harder to save a brother who is on the edge, maybe we would be more careful ourselves and not walk so close to the fence, flirting with the wolf on the other side.
            Look around you today and do a count.  How many souls have been lost in the past year alone?  Has anyone bothered to set up a trap for the wolf?  Has anyone even acknowledged his existence?  Clipped chickens, even as dumb as they are, do not fly over a six foot fence, but a bobcat can climb it in a flash and snatch the unwary in his jaws.  Be on the lookout today.
 
I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. He who is a hired hand and not a shepherd, who does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and flees, and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. He flees because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep. John 10:11-15

Dene Ward