Hurricane Milton, despite a strong wind shear, still managed to come ashore as a Category 3.  Though the center made landfall at Siesta Key, the northern eye wall went right over Tampa, and seemed to camp far longer than necessary.  We were surprised how long we kept our power, certainly longer than the old days on our property in North Florida, but when it went out, it stayed out for almost 6 days.

   The roar of our reliable old generator became a constant.  In fact, with it running, we heard nothing else.  Whenever I stepped onto the back porch, I could feel that racket pounding on my ear drums.  We couldn't hear each other; we couldn't hear the cell phone notifications; we couldn't hear the next door neighbor knocking on the front door.  We heard nothing but that generator.

   Some times in life we become so distracted by the noise that we can't hear things much more important.  The squeaky wheel gets the grease, but the roar of society, of every day cares and worries, of expectations at work all drown out the more necessary things.  …And the cares of the world, and the deceitfulness of riches, and the lusts of other things entering in, choke the word, and it becomes unfruitful (Mark 4:19).  When you find yourself having to yell right into each other's ears to be heard at all, maybe it's time to turn off the noise of life so you can truly listen to each other, and especially so you can listen to God.

   Mind you, the generator was important.  It saved a few hundred dollars' worth of meat in our freezer and the milk and eggs in our fridge.  But we learned quickly to make a point to walk away from it when we needed to hear.

   Elijah learned in the wilderness that God was not in a noisy spectacle—not in an earthquake, not in a fiery inferno, not even in a strong, mighty wind—one even worse than Milton because it tore rocks!  No, God was in a "still small voice", one you might have to rid yourself of distractions to hear (I Kings 19:11-15ff).

   After a few days that seemed like forever, we were able to turn that generator off.  The silence was sheer bliss.  Before long we could once again hear the birds, we could hear children laughing in the street, the clicking of dogs' claws as their masters walked them down the neighborhood sidewalks, and the tinkling of the neighbor's wind chimes.  We enjoyed just sitting on our patio in the early morning with a cup of coffee listening to whatever we could hear again.

   If you've stopped hearing God due to the noisy distractions of life, turn them off now, before you miss something vital to your soul.

We are from God. Whoever knows God listens to us; whoever is not from God does not listen to us. By this we know the Spirit of truth and the spirit of error (1John 4:6).

Dene Ward

A long time ago my sister gave me a recipe for “Congo Bars.”  Congo bars are basically a blondie, extra gooey, with two kinds of chips in them, butterscotch and semi-sweet.  The recipe makes not a 9 x 13 pan, but a 10 x 15, and when I need a whole lot of something, I still go to that recipe.
            I have added a few twists of my own, though.  First, I toast the nuts.  The pan doesn’t stay in the oven but 15 minutes, which is not quite enough time, enrobed as they are in all that batter, for the nuts to really brown.  Believe me, the flavor difference is obvious. 
            The other change I made began as a desperation move when I didn’t have one cup each of butterscotch and semi-sweet chocolate chips.  Instead, I had about half a cup each of those bagged up in my freezer from previous recipes, and also the remains of a bag of peanut butter chips and one of white chocolate chips.  Together they made just over the two cups total I needed, so I threw them all in.
            I have never received so many compliments on a homely looking bar cookie in my life.  Things like, “Wow!  This is so interesting,” and, “I get a different flavor with every bite.  How did you do that?”  So now I do it on purpose.  Whenever I see those pieces of bags stacking up in my freezer, Congo bars are on the menu that week as the dessert I take to a potluck, or the bars I take camping, or the cookies in the cookie jar when the kids come home.  Weeks after they first taste them, people are still talking about these things, and all I did was stir a bunch of different flavored chips together in the batter.
            That is exactly what God expected from the church.  He never intended us to be homogenous groups, some all middle class, some all lower class, some all black, some all white, some totally blue collar workers, and some nothing but white collar workers.  “All nations shall flow in,” Isaiah prophesied in chapter 2, and it becomes obvious when you read about those first century churches that Jew and Gentile weren’t the only differences.
            But even in the first century, the people rebelled against such a notion.  “We can’t worship with them,” the Jewish Christians whined about the Gentiles.  “Come sit up here,” they said to the rich visitor, and gave the lesser seat to the poor man.             
            Hadn’t Jesus paved the way?  Even among the chosen twelve, there were differences—blue collar Galileans and urbane Judeans, men with Aramaic names and men with Greek names, some disciples of John and others not, fishermen, publicans, and Zealots.  They too had trouble with the notion of equality among them, but they overcame it.
            I worshiped once with a congregation of 300.  You know the wonderful thing about that?  Whatever I need, someone there can help me.  I have a physician, a plumber, a computer whiz, a chiropractor, a financial advisor, a legal consultant, an electrician, a carpenter, and a pharmacist.  As far as the church’s needs, we have an accountant, a couple of computer techs, lawn workers, housekeepers, teachers, photographers, several Bible scholars, and a host of others who step up when the need arises in their specialty.  We have babes in arms and folks in their nineties.  How likely is that to happen when there are only 30 of you?
            Sometimes you cannot help there being only 30 of you—at least for awhile.  That should be changing too as each fulfills his obligation to tell others about his faith.  But sometimes churches are small because people do not want to worship with other types of people.  Why should there be a small black group and a small white group in the same town except that people do not want to be together?  Shame on us for letting our comfort zones become more important than the good of the Lord’s kingdom in that particular locality. 
            The power of the gospel is seen not only in the changes in our lives, but in the way people of different backgrounds, cultures, and classes love one another.  Jesus prayed that we would all be one “so the world may know that you sent me.” 
            We have people who raise their hands when they sing, and people who don’t.  We have song leaders who lead more modern, syncopated music, and those who stick with the old standards.  We have people “raised in the church,” and those who are new to it; some who grew up knowing right from wrong before they were knee-high, and others who came to us from rehab.  There may be a different flavor in every bite, but we all get along.  To do otherwise would make a mockery of the plan of salvation. 
            “All have sinned,” and we are all saved by the grace of the same God.  That’s the only sameness about us that really matters.
 
May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God. (Romans 15:5-7)
 
Dene Ward
 
Click on Dene's Recipes if you want to make your own Congo bars.

My high school class was just a year or two too young to lose many to the Vietnam War, but we knew upperclassmen who went, and Keith was in the Marine Corps from ‘67 to’71.  My life could easily be different now.
            The way those men were greeted when they came home from that horror is a shame to our country.  They did not start that war; they were just pawns on a larger political chessboard.  The ones who spat on them and called them names were, by and large, a younger group who had never fought in a war, never experienced any sort of economic deprivation, but rather, had their lives handed to them on a silver platter. 
            In 1994 another group of veterans was finally given the honor they deserved in the many 50th anniversary observances of D-Day.  They were called “the Greatest Generation,” for making it through the Great Depression and then going on to fight for their country.  Many gave the ultimate sacrifice, as we call it.  Of the few still left, others still suffer from the injuries they incurred.  Many more still bear the pain of emotional scars from that awful conflict.  Truly they deserve our respect and our gratitude. 
            So what has happened?  1994 is gone.  I live in Florida, where a great many retirees, many of whom are veterans, finish their lives.  They are regularly the brunt of jokes and disrespect from a generation that may never know the trials that group went through, solely because those people went through those trials.  Funny how time can wreak such havoc with attitudes isn’t it?
            Unfortunately, I have seen the same thing happen in the Lord’s body.  A younger generation sneers at an older one because it is older, because it doesn’t understand that society is a bit different, and what was once expedient no longer is.  Yet that older generation is the one who saw the problems in the work force during the 40s, a war machine grinding out supplies at a pace unheard of before.  They were the ones who saw the need for a Sunday evening service so that those Christians who were working shifts would not be left out of the group activities, so they too could experience the encouragement that comes from praising and thanking God together. 
            You know what?  When they came up with that idea, it was new, it was different--it broke all the traditions.  Don’t sit there on your high horse and accuse them of not being able to change with the times.
            That is why those things are so hard for them to give up.  Yes, for some there may be an attitude problem, perhaps a willfulness or stubbornness that should be dealt with, but I would suggest that is not the case for most.  Just because someone has a difficult time seeing the need for an expedient change, does not mean he is a Pharisee, which seems to be the accusation du jour.  Too many times we act towards them with a disrespectful scorn and impatience, while at the same time being happy to stand on those same tired, hunched shoulders, shoulders that bore the burden of fighting the battles that have kept the church sound and faithful to the Lord.  Where would we be now without them? 
            My generation and the one just younger need to be careful.  Trying to withhold respect and honor and cloaking it as righteousness is simply another facet to the same Phariseeism we claim to abhor (Mark 7:8-13).  Our Lord would not like it now any more than he did two thousand years ago.
            So please, be a little more careful how you speak to and about the old warriors.  Be understanding of the feelings they must have, seeing their world change perhaps more than any other generation before.  Be grateful to them for what they have been through and the battles they have fought.  One of these days, another generation will come along and look at you and the things you don’t want to change.  What kind of example will you have left them?
 
You shall stand before the gray head and honor the face of the old man, and you shall fear your God.   I AM Jehovah, Lev 19:32. 
 
Dene Ward
 

It takes us three days to pack for a camping trip.  I have a list saved on the computer that I print out every time—three pages.  Yes, I said three pages.
            Just for meals, for instance, I pack cups, mugs, plates, soup bowls, a measuring cup, grill tools, saucepans, skillets, the coffee pot, propane stoves, matches, gas canisters, coffee filters, a griddle, a folding grill, a mixing bowl, silverware, mixing spoons and spatulas, foil, Ziplocs for leftovers, a bacon drippings can, paper towels, dish soap, a dish pan, dish towels, hot pads, and trash bags, and that doesn’t count the food!  Now imagine things you need for every part of your day, from brushing your teeth, to hiking, to showering, to sitting around after dark reading, to going to bed, and you begin to see why the list is three pages long.
            We use this list because I have found that if I don’t have it to cross off, I will invariably forget something.  From time to time we delete something on the list or add something as our situation changes.  When we were young we didn’t need to take two boxes of medications. 
            We keep a backup disk of items saved on the computer.  That list is on it.  Should we ever lose it, I might even be tempted to never go camping again.  I cannot imagine having to remake the list from memory.  More likely, we would remake it around the fire the first night after discovering all the things we forgot.
            When we had boys with us, I had other things on the list that were equally important.  In fact, I was probably more careful about their things than mine.  I wanted them to have enough clothes, especially enough warm clothes.  I learned that lesson the hard way when we woke up by a mountain stream one June morning to fifty degree temperatures and they had nothing but shorts and tee shirts to wear.  Fifty degrees in June?  As a Florida native I didn’t even know that was possible, and I felt horrible, quickly mixing up some warm oatmeal and hot chocolate while Keith built a campfire for them to huddle around as they ate.
            We are all on a trip every day of our lives.  What have you packed for your children?  Too many parents just let life happen without a plan.  Do you teach them?  Do you talk with them every chance you get about a God who loves them, who made them, and who expects things of them?  Do you discuss the things that happen in their lives and the decisions they made, or perhaps should have made?  Do they know that those decisions will affect their eternal destiny?  Do you allow them to pay the consequences for their mistakes, or do you shelter them?  Do you tell them what the world is really like out there, how to recognize the traps, the enemies in disguise and the true values of life?  Are you sure you have everything they could possibly need to assure their eternal destiny?
            Maybe you need to make a list.
 
We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the LORD, and his might, and the wonders that he has done. He established a testimony in Jacob and appointed a law in Israel, which he commanded our fathers to teach to their children, that the next generation might know them, the children yet unborn, and arise and tell them to their children, so that they should set their hope in God and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments; Psalms 78:4-7.
 
Dene Ward

I grew up wearing homemade clothing.  My mother was a master seamstress and I was always proud of the things she made me.  We certainly could not have afforded for any of us to be so well-dressed if not for her great talent.  She even made dress pants and a sports coat or two for my father.  Nothing was obviously homemade; she was that good.
            If you do any research into the history of clothing manufacture, you will find that until the last half of the nineteenth century almost everyone wore homemade clothing.  If they were rich, they had their clothes made by professional seamstresses or tailors, but the rest of the world simply made things themselves.  Then on November 7, 1850, Isaac Singer ran the first advertisement for his sewing machine, which would be patented the next year.  Suddenly the ready-made clothing industry took off.  The machines were too expensive for the average family then, but soon enough, due to sewing machines, undershirts and pantaloons were not too expensive to purchase ready-made.
            The Bible talks a lot about clothing.  In Genesis we read about the first clothing ever—fig leaves, which God soon replaced with animal skins.  Even in that, God foreshadowed our need for atonement (covering), for it took the blood of animals to make a suitable covering for Adam and Eve's bodies.
            God continues the implied metaphor in several passages. 
          I will greatly rejoice in the LORD; my soul shall exult in my God, for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation; he has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself like a priest with a beautiful headdress, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels. (Isa 61:10). 
And now arise, O LORD God, and go to your resting place, you and the ark of your might. Let your priests, O LORD God, be clothed with salvation, and let your saints rejoice in your goodness (2Chr 6:41).
          Awake, awake, put on your strength, O Zion; put on your beautiful garments, O Jerusalem, the holy city; for there shall no more come into you the uncircumcised and the unclean (Isa 52:1).
          Her priests I will clothe with salvation, and her saints will shout for joy (Ps 132:16).
          And from there we move on to the New Covenant of His Son. 
         But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires (Rom 13:14).
         For as many of you as have been baptized have put on Christ (Gal 3:27), or as the Christian Standard puts it, For as many of you as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ like a garment.
          And don't for a minute think you are wearing tacky homemade clothing.  You are wearing clothes designed by God, covered completely with His Son through a ritual that represents His death, burial, and resurrection (Romans 6).  Wear it like you would the most expensive dress you ever bought, caring for it lovingly, trying your best not to soil it.  You know that old saying, "Clothes make the man?"  Act like the person who should be wearing those holy garments.  You might find it easier to be good when you realize the price paid for the "clothes" you have on.
 
The Spirit of the Lord GOD is on Me, because the LORD has anointed Me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and freedom to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor, and the day of our God’s vengeance; to comfort all who mourn, to provide for those who mourn in Zion; to give them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, festive oil instead of mourning, and splendid clothes instead of despair. And they will be called righteous trees, planted by the LORD to glorify Him (Isa 61:1-3).
 
Dene Ward

On March 4, 1865, Alexander Gardner photographed Abraham Lincoln at his second inaugural.  “With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right,” Lincoln said that day, “let us strive on to finish the work we are in—to bind up the nation’s wounds; to care for his widow and his orphans; to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations.”
            There in the photo behind him stands his betrayer, John Wilkes Booth, the man who would shoot him in the head at Ford’s Theater just over a month later on April 14, right after the intermission ended and the play, “Our American Cousin” began again.  It seems ominous that Booth would have been in that picture--some speculate the he had intended to do the deed that very day--but by definition, betrayers are always somewhere close to the ones they will betray, looking for an opportunity.
            If there had been a camera invented that Passover night 2000 years ago, don’t you think you would see Judas there, dipping his bread with Jesus, perhaps sharing a smile or warm word with a fellow apostle?  I am not certain when Booth made his plans to murder his leader, but Judas that night already had his plans made.  In fact, Jesus sent him off to carry them out.
            Usually we don’t have cameras going on Sunday mornings, but if we did, I wonder how many betrayers would be caught communing with their fellow disciples and their Lord?  Do you take the Lord’s Supper planning to go out and continue in sin the next week?  Do you already have it on your calendar?  Will you leave His presence and refuse to confess your faith in Him before your friends and acquaintances?  Will you sigh and give in just because the fight is long and hard and you don’t like what it will cost you to win?  Do you simply approach the week with absolutely no plans of how to thwart the enemy and his lures, stumbling like a fool straight into his hands?
            How many of us take the bread that represents “the body” God “prepared” for Him to live in an ignominious life (Heb 10:5), then refuse to present our own bodies in a living sacrifice every day?  How many of us take the juice that represents the horrible death He died, then refuse to crucify ourselves so He can live in us?  How many of us sit with Him weekly in this family meal, then go out and act like someone else’s brothers instead of His?
            If God took a picture of us all on Sunday mornings, which ones of us would be called the Betrayers?
 
A man who has set at nought Moses’ law dies without compassion on the word of two or three witnesses: of how much sorer punishment, do you think, shall he be judged worthy, who has trodden under foot the Son of God, and has counted the blood of the covenant wherewith he was sanctified an unholy thing, and has done despite unto the Spirit of grace? For we know him that said, Vengeance belongs unto me, I will recompense. And again, The Lord shall judge his people. It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. Hebrews 10:28-31
 
Dene Ward

Because of my membership in three professional organizations and their local branches, my students were able to participate in several piano and voice competitions a year.  By far their favorite was the Florida Federation’s Junior State Convention and Competition.
            We discovered this event by accident when I overheard two teachers talking about it at our District Festival, a ratings-only non-competitive event.  So I asked, and after being told about this competition for district-rated superiors, was also advised not to bother taking any students.  “There are as many as 70-80 in each category, and the winners are always students of some retired concert artist or college professor.  You’ll never win.”
            My students, despite being from the smallest county in Florida, and a rural one at that, took it as a challenge, and every year after that “going to state” was the goal for them all.  And guess what?  We did win, several times, in several events.  My students had come up with their own little uniforms—white shirt, black pants or skirt, and Looney Tunes tie—and it got to the point that I heard people in the audience say things like, “Uh-oh.  It’s one of the kids with the ties!” when they approached the piano or stood up to sing.  We were not only recognized, but actually feared!
            When you make a superior in a group event, like piano duet or piano trio, all parties must attend State in order for that group to compete.  Imagine my surprise when a parent called me a few weeks before the competition telling me that her daughter, who had made a superior in piano duet, would not be attending State Contest.  I knew the partner would be very disappointed.  Then the mother really burst my tea bag when she said, “It’s not like they have any chance of winning anyway.”
            What?  As a matter of fact, piano duet was one of our best categories.  And the partner had already won a second place the year before with another partner.  If my students had gone to State feeling like they could never win anything, they never would have.  They won because they believed they could, and worked toward that goal. 
            I have heard Christians say some things that sound just like that mother.
            “I don’t know if I’m going to Heaven or not, but I sure hope so.” 
            “I don’t know if I sinned Lord, but forgive me if I did.”
            “We’re only human.  We all sin every day.”
            "Even the best of us sin all the time!"
            Just what kind of God do these people think we serve?  A capricious, malicious God who toys with us like a cat with a mouse, or a loving, faithful God who helps us in every way He can, including giving us clear instructions for life, the means to overcome sin, and promises that are real?
            Do you think Paul went at Christianity with such a defeatist attitude?  Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified, 1 Corinthians 9:25-27.  It sounds to me like he expected to win.
            Do you need a little help getting over that defeatist attitude?  Just look at these passages this morning:
            No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it. 1 Corinthians 10:13
            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. 1 Peter 1:3-5
            Therefore, brothers, be all the more diligent to make your calling and election sure, for if you practice these qualities you will never fall. For in this way there will be richly provided for you an entrance into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. 2 Peter 1:10-11
            In case you didn’t notice, when we have a defeatist attitude, it isn’t so much ourselves we doubt as it is God.  Satan is making inroads in our hearts and calling it “humility.”  It isn’t humility to wonder about my salvation; it’s a lack of faith and trust in a God who has furnished everything I need to know that I am saved. 
            Who are you listening to this morning?
 
Such is the confidence that we have through Christ toward God. Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God, 2 Corinthians 3:4-5
 
Dene Ward

Remember a few weeks ago when I told you how I got to be this age without reading any of Lewis's works?  That leaves me in a bit of a quandary about how to write this review.  Surely nearly everyone out there already knows the premise and most have read the book.  But this is supposed to be a review, so I guess I should treat it as one.
            This is, in my own made-up term, fictionalized theology—maybe one of the only examples out there.  Some describe it as a novel but novelette might be more accurate if the word applies at all.  Screwtape is a Senior Demon who is mentoring his nephew Wormwood, a recent graduate of Demon College.  Wormwood has been assigned a young Englishman whose soul he is to gain for Satan.  World War II is about to begin and this young man has just discovered religion and fallen in love, both of which, Screwtape says, make him ripe for picking by a demon, even a young inexperienced one.  Reading his justification for that statement is a real eye-opener, a sort of "If you think you stand, take heed lest you fall."
            The whole book is made up of letters from Screwtape, both giving instructions and taking Wormwood to task when he fails.  Since you never read Wormwood's letters you surmise from Screwtape's exactly what his nephew has done.  It is full of theology, philosophy, and general observations about society, marriage, the church, and war.  You must always be aware of the "opposites" in the discussion.  God is the Enemy, Satan is Our Father Below, and success means the loss of the young man's soul.  It will make you think deeply about things like temptation, and how some things that look good can actually work in Satan's favor.  If it puts you on your toes in that regard, then Mr. Lewis has probably accomplished what he set out to do.
            My copy includes "Screwtape Proposes a Toast," a commentary on American education.  It is not as successful an effort, in my opinion, but maybe that is because I am an American.
            My copy is about 60 years old and we found it in a used book store.  You should have no trouble at all finding it somewhere if you are one like me who is late arriving to the party.
 
Dene Ward

We had no land when we first moved to the country and were forced to rent a house in the hamlet nearby.  We were only in that big old frame house for 5 months, but I will never forget it.  Uneven flooring, tall drafty ceilings, and, when we moved in, no heat and no running water.  It was January 1st.  We sat around the table in hats and coats eating oatmeal or soup for every meal, and hauling water in buckets.  Eventually the truck company next door let us hook our garden hose to their well spigot.  We pulled the hose through an inch wide gap under the kitchen window and ran it into the sink beneath, which at least made the haul shorter. 
            After about a week the well man came out and fixed the pump, and the gas man filled the tank.  Still it wasn’t warm.  Room-sized gas space heaters in the bathroom, kitchen, and living room did little to mollify the effects of fifteen foot ceilings and cracks between the planks in the floor through which we could see the ground three feet beneath.  It was the coldest winter I remember in this area—but maybe it was just that house.
            When early spring rolled around I remember standing on the back stone steps in the sun—probably for the warmth.  Keith was on his haunches petting the dog, a black and brown mixed breed we had picked up at the pound a year earlier and named Ezekiel.  The boys were standing next to him listening, probably to some daddy advice.  They were 4 and 2, oblivious to our living conditions, and perfectly happy. 
            Suddenly the breeze picked up and over the house something floated down out of the sky and landed across Keith’s shoulders, hanging down on each side of his chest.  It was a snakeskin.  When we figured out what it was, he couldn’t get it off fast enough.  It must have been four feet long, with perfect scale imprints all along its length.  It creeped me out, as the kids say these days.  I still shudder when I think of it.  Maybe that’s why I still remember that house so well.
            I remembered that house and that event again recently when we passed a fifty gallon drum by the woodpile and there lying across it was another perfect snakeskin, three feet long, hanging over each side of the barrel.  They still give me the creeps when I see them, or the heebie jeebs, or whatever you choose to call that horrible feeling that runs down your spine, makes you shiver to your shoes and your hair stand on end.  Maybe it’s because I know that somewhere nearby there is a real snake.  I can’t pretend there aren’t any out there simply because I haven’t seen one lately.
            I’m sure you could make a list of things that give you that feeling.  What worries me is that nowhere on anyone’s list is the three letter word “sin.”  It ought to give us the creeps to be around it, to see its effects on the world, people fulfilling their every lust, their hearts full of hate and envy and covetousness, lying as easily as they breathe.  It ought to make us shiver to hear the Lord’s name taken in vain from nearly every mouth, even children, or the coarse, crude, vulgar language that passes for conversation—and entertainment!-- these days.  Why?  Because you can be positive the Devil is somewhere nearby.  He’s just waiting to drop out of nowhere and drape his arm around your shoulder.  Before you know it, you will be dressing like everyone else, talking like everyone else, and acting like everyone else.  In short, you will be like everyone else, walking around swathed in snakeskin, hugging it to yourself instead of ripping it off in disgust.  
            Don’t think it can’t happen to you, especially if sin doesn’t give you the creeps to begin with. 
 
The fear of the LORD is hatred of evil. Pride and arrogance and the way of evil and perverted speech I hate... Seek good, and not evil, that you may live; and so the LORD, the God of hosts, will be with you, as you have said. Hate evil, and love good, and establish justice in the gate; it may be that the LORD, the God of hosts, will be gracious to the remnant of Joseph…Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good, Prov 8:13; Amos 5:14,15; Rom 12:9.
 
Dene Ward