Things change so rapidly these days it seems impossible to keep up.  I had carefully collected a library of classical music LPs for my students to listen to.  By the time my studio was large enough, with students advanced enough to get much use out of them, I was collecting cassettes.  Before long I had to switch to CDs.  At least I don’t have a collection of 8 tracks collecting dust as well.  Somehow I missed that phase.

The same thing is happening in the church, and I don’t mean changing doctrine to suit the situation, I mean changing the means by which we teach that unchangeable Word, and the ways we edify one another while still clinging to the constraints of obedient faith.

Gone are the charts drawn on white bed sheets and the overhead projectors flashing carefully covered up lists, revealed one line at a time when the speaker moves the sheet of paper he laid on top.  Now we use power point and remotes.  Even my three year old grandson Silas knows to pick up something rectangular and point it at his make-believe screen when he pretends to preach like Daddy.

We must beg people to use the carefully selected library of books we have in the back hall—they are happier with the internet and Bible study programs, not to mention Kindle and Nook.  Even the riffling of Bibles during the sermon has decreased—many now have all 66 books on something the size of a wallet.  You are more likely to hear beeps or mechanized “plops” than the quiet shuffling of pages.

Now the preacher doesn’t just have to raise his voice when an infant begins to cry; he has to raise it when someone forgets to turn off his cell phone.  Now the song leader must wrestle with an audience who not only wants to sing at their own pace regardless of his direction, but with the ones who cannot for the life of them understand or “feel” syncopation.  Fanny Crosby would never have set words to a syncopated tune.

But some things will always be the same.

Children whose parents tell them to “Listen!” will still come up with ways to keep their wandering minds on the sermons, counting how many times the preacher says certain words or writing down every passage he uses, and in that play will begin to memorize scriptures that stay with them for a lifetime.

Someone will still sniffle a bit during the Lord’s Supper, and someone else will momentarily hold up the collection while he tries to persuade his two year old to put the coins in the plate, and the children will learn what is done and why.

A deacon will stand in back and count while another one makes last minute notes for the closing announcements, those precious words that help us “weep with those who weep, and rejoice with those who rejoice.”

Serious men, in khakis and open neck shirts instead of suits and ties, will still listen carefully to the preacher while their wives juggle their own listening with trying to decide if a requested potty trip is really necessary or just a ploy to get out of this boring seat for a few minutes.

People will still ask for prayers when life deals them a harsh blow, and brothers and sisters will gather round with hugs and tears, and offers of help.

Excited new converts will still sit closer to the front than old ones, listening with rapt attention, diligently taking notes to study at home, and thinking up questions that will keep the elders busy for weeks.

Young parents will be suddenly motivated to attend regularly for the first time in their lives by the responsibility of the small souls God has placed in their hands.

Widows will contentedly sit, patiently waiting for the time when they can meet their mates “at the gate,” as my mother asked my daddy to do just moments before his passing.

Older couples will do as I do, looking around at all the new but still seeing the old in spite of the new, comforting themselves that God’s way still works, even in this perplexing age of technology and unparalleled advancement.

As long as there are people to hear it and hearts to believe it, planting the seed will make Christians spring up out of any plot of good soil. It has worked for nearly two thousand years now and we, in spite of the wow-factor of our inventions, will never outdo the results God can get with one Book.  If you ever forget that, then look around some Sunday morning, not for the differences, but for the things that never change, and that never will as long as faith exists on the earth. 

"O my God," I say, "take me not away in the midst of my days-- you whose years endure throughout all generations!" Of old you laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands. They will perish, but you will remain; they will all wear out like a garment. You will change them like a robe, and they will pass away, but you are the same, and your years have no end. The children of your servants shall dwell secure; their offspring shall be established before you. Psalms 102:24-28

Dene Ward

On June 4, 1876, the Jarrett and Palmer Special Fast Transcontinental Train crossed the country from New York City to San Francisco in 83 hours and 39 minutes.  Actually it involved several engines and several crews, but the point was to make it as quickly as possible as publicity for a theatrical production the acting company was to perform less than a week after the previous one on the East Coast.  The play was Henry V, not as if that really matters after all these years.  The only thing that matters this far from the event is the time and the speed.  They traveled 3000 miles at an average speed of 40 miles per hour.  You and I would probably go nuts, but for those people it was almost a miracle.

 How were they used to traveling?  A wagon train usually left from Independence, Missouri, so add the time to get that far to the usual 4 to 5 ½ months it took to reach the West Coast.  By stagecoach it took four weeks to traverse the country and at a far steeper price.  By boat you had two choices.  If you stopped at the Isthmus of Panama and traveled across it by train, picking up another boat on the other side, it took 45 days to go from New York City to San Francisco—there was no Panama Canal at that time.  If you sailed on the same boat all the way around the tip of South America it took 200 days.  So you see what an important thing it was when this transcontinental train arrived so quickly.  And there, perhaps, we can see the seeds of our culture's penchant for speed, which filters all the way down to our children at vacation time—or any time they get in the car for that matter.  "Are we there yet?"

 God's people have always had the same question.  “How long?” David asks, not once, but four times in the first two verses of Psalm 13.  Habakkuk’s psalm begins, “O Lord, how long shall I cry for help and you will not hear?”Hab 1:2. The martyrs pictured around the throne of God cry out, “O Sovereign Lord...how long before you will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?” Rev. 6:9,10.  “How long” is indeed a common complaint in the scriptures—I found it listed 52 times!

 And the point is this, these people are undergoing not just trials, but long, drawn out trials.  “Time flies when you’re having fun,” we often say, and that means it crawls when you aren’t.

 “It is not under the sharpest, but the longest trials that we are most in danger of fainting,” Andrew Fuller says in Spurgeon’s Treasury of David.  It is so true.  Just last week I nearly lost it over something small and inconsequential. 

Being married to a deaf man can be extremely frustrating.  Three times in one hour Keith and I had a misunderstanding based totally on the fact that he could not hear what I was saying.  If he could have heard just three words, none of it would have even mattered, but because he couldn’t, it made the situation more and more complex, and more and more exasperating as it went on.  And the reason I couldn’t handle it that morning?  Not because it was three times in one hour, but because we have been dealing with it for  over fifty years now.

 But who am I to complain?  The woman in Luke 8 had her issue of blood for 12 years.  The woman who had the spirit of infirmity in Luke 13 had been suffering for 18 years.  The man who lay at the pool of Bethesda (John 5) had done so for 38 years.  The blind beggar in John 9 had been that way from birth.  Sarah had waited for a child for decades.  The people of God waited for a Messiah for thousands of years!  These people had far more reason than I to ask God, “How long?”

All of us are prone to ask, “Are we there yet?”  and sometimes the answer does not come in this lifetime.  That may be the most difficult thing to deal with.  Some are born into suffering and never get out of it.  Some, due to random accident or maybe even their own bad choices, suffer for the remaining years of their lives and never see a reason.  God has His plans and we are not always privy to them. 

 But one day we will receive the answer we want to hear: “How long? Now! We are there!”  The waiting will be over, no more suffering of any sort, even the petty little annoyances that no one else can understand, that drive you up a wall on a bad day, that fill you with guilt when your mind clears and you finally recognize just how blessed you truly are. 

 Some day we will arrive, and we won’t be going on any more long difficult journeys ever again.

It is the LORD who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed. Deuteronomy 31:8.

Dene Ward

After a few years of working at it, my flower bed is now one mass of yellow every spring.  We planted a few of those daisy-style flowers known as rudbeckia several years ago and they have gradually increased over time.  The gallardia died off, the coreopsis moved to the back field, and even the “invasive” Mexican petunias have waned as the more commonly named black-eyed susans exercised dominance in the bed.  Even most of the weeds gave up.  These flowers are here to stay now, and they are gradually spreading, with just a little help from us, over other areas of the property.

But come the end of June the stems turn gray and furry and the flower heads brown as they “go to seed.”  It’s a long couple morning’s work to pull them up and toss them out to the field southeast of the flower bed.  We’ve noticed over the years that things tend to spread to the northwest, and sure enough, if we toss things to the southeast we will get an even fuller bed the next year.  What would happen if we just left them?  Ugly, is what would happen, and that is not what flowers are for.  Something has to be done if we want them to continue to flourish.

I’ve noticed the same about churches.  The longer you sit on your pews with no winds stirring, no rainstorms, no blight to kill off the weak plants, no insects to fight, no cultivating to uproot the weeds, the more likely you are to go to seed.  Every church needs a good stirring up once in a while if it wants to survive.  When a church starts to “go to seed,” it can get just plain ugly.

I’ve seen a church become the property of one family, where visitors aren’t welcome and no one even thinks about reaching out to the community.  It’s just there for convenience as they “fulfill their Sunday duty.” (Amos 5:21-24)

I’ve seen a church become so set in its ways that, while still claiming expediency, things are done in as inexpedient a way imaginable because it would upset anyone to change a tradition.  In fact, they come close to considering it a sin to even think of it. (Matt 15:7-9)

I’ve seen a church become, not the pillar and ground of the truth, but a source of hatefulness and division.  They call it standing for the truth when it’s really just barring the doors to anyone who might need a little more help than the type of new convert they would prefer.  (I Cor 6:9-11)

I’ve seen churches so interested in keeping peace, they sacrifice purity, or let an obstinate brother have his way, even if it hurts the mission of the church in that community, or a weaker brother. (James 3:17)

I’ve seen so-called sound churches spout nothing but memorized catch-phrases and slogans with the requisite “proof-texts,” none of which they can explain or use in its true context.  They talk about “no creed but the Bible” while explaining to every visitor an unwritten creed of do’s and don’ts if you want to be accepted by “us.” (3 John 9,10)

And I’ve seen many, many churches become so afraid of doing something wrong they never manage to do anything good.  (Matt 23:23,24)

The first of July I start pulling up plants and tossing them to the southeast.  Then Keith will come along a day or two later and run the mower over those old plants to help disseminate the seeds for next year.  For a while my bed looks pathetic, but soon it will be a sea of bright yellow waving in the spring breeze once again, in fact, it will be fuller and brighter than ever.  That will only happen after I turn it upside down and inside out.  Maybe a few more churches need to do the same thing.

And the Lord said: “Because this people draw near with their mouth and honor me with their lips, while their hearts are far from me, and their fear of me is a commandment learned by rote, therefore, behold, I will again do wonderful things with this people, with wonder upon wonder; and the wisdom of their wise men shall perish, and the discernment of their discerning men shall be hidden,” Isa 29:13-14.

Dene Ward

We planted the main garden the second week of March.  It looks great this year, and I have already put up what we need and more, and shared with people who probably wish I wouldn’t any more.

When the cantaloupe row came up, which is Keith’s baby, he was happy to see it full with no bare spots.  I heard about it the day he saw the first bloom.  Then a couple of weeks later he came in with a funny look on his face. 

“Let me show you something,” he said, and I followed him out the door straight to that row of cantaloupes.  “Look at those baby cantaloupes.”  So I bent over, lifted the leaves and looked, only to discover baby cucumbers instead.  He had gone out to plant without his glasses and used up the remains of what he thought was a packet of cantaloupe seeds on the first two hills.  Turns out that packet, which did not have a picture let me hasten to add, must have said, “Cucumber.”  So the first two hills in the cantaloupe row are cucumbers.

Is that bad?  Well, yes and no.  I already had plenty of cucumber hills planted, and these two extra hills are some of the most prolific bearers I have ever seen.  I have made my pickles and still my refrigerator is overflowing. 

And it turns out these two hills are the best tasting of the bunch.  But since he tossed that empty packet of “cantaloupe” seeds, we have no idea what kind they were.  I have been experimenting with new varieties the past two years and these were leftovers from the year before.

Then there is the fact that his row is two hills short of cantaloupe, which to him is a catastrophe.  So what can we learn from all this?

Well, I doubt he will ever forget to wear his glasses when he plants the garden again.  But what about us?

I suppose the obvious point is this—you will reap what you sow.  Thinking it is cantaloupe won’t make cucumber seeds produce them.  That old “sowing his wild oats” adage is the stupidest thing I ever heard.  All he will get, whoever he is, is wild oats.  You don’t “get it out of your system” and think you will produce anything else.  “Be sure your sin will find you out.”

What are you sowing in your children?  What do they hear you say?  Please do not make the mistake of thinking they do not pick up on sarcastic comments and hypercritical statements, even at a very early age.  Children tend to think that everything that goes wrong is their fault, usually because they have to deal with the foul tempers of parents who take it out on them.

What about their entertainment?  What words are being sown in their active little minds?  What ideas?  What priorities?  What character traits?  Do you even know what they are watching? 

What about their friends?  I have had children in my home whose parents never once called or even darkened my door.  One time I had a young man for the whole weekend.  He came home with my sons on the bus on Friday and we put him back on the bus Monday morning!  We didn’t mind a bit, but where was his mama?  I still haven't met her.

What about yourself?  What are you sowing?  What is your entertainment?  What is your reading material?  Where do you go and with whom?  If you find yourself saying things you never said before, maybe it’s time to change friends.  They are sowing more in you than you are in them.

Check the seed packet this morning before you go out.  Check it again when you come in.  Make sure you are sowing the seed of the Word of God, not only in your friends, but in your children, and in yourself.  And put on your glasses when you do.

For they sow the wind and they shall reap the whirlwind…Sow to yourself in righteousness, reap according to kindness…Hos 8:7; 10:12.

Dene Ward

On April 1, 2024, I wrote on this blog a review of Becoming A Woman of Excellence by this same author.  In it I mentioned that she has other books in this series.  This is one of those.  This one, I think, might be more helpful.  Many of us live our lives worried about our past, about what others think about us, unable to forgive and too busy with things of this world.  Those are just a few of the lessons in this book, as the author seeks to show us how to free ourselves of extraneous, unhelpful, or even sinful things, and "run the race" as Jesus would have us do.

Please reread that first book review.  Everything in it, except the subject, applies here—the way the lessons are laid out, what to watch out for (very little), and how to go about studying and/or teaching them.  And speaking of freedom, do feel free to ignore anything that is not grounded in scripture or smacks a little of Calvinism or any other –ism that is not Biblical.

As with the other book, this one is published by NavPress.

Dene Ward