I was not sure what to expect with this book.  All I knew was that Keith kept exclaiming over it every other page or so when he read it.  So I went in expecting great things.  And found them.
            People have a habit of treating the Old Testament like it is passé and no longer useful.  I know that I grew up hearing so often that it was no longer in effect that I wondered if we really needed to study it anymore.  Others must have felt the same because, as a child, I remember men bringing "testaments" to church—small, slim editions of the New Testament only.  Oh, and the Psalms too, which I could never figure out since they were in the Old Testament.  A friend told me that when her husband preached in a church we will not name, that he was told not to preach any more lessons from "the Old Bible—we don't need it now."  Thankfully, I have learned better and I hope the majority of the church has as well.
            This book kept amazing me.  Mr. Wright starts in Matthew 1, and manages to cover most of the Old Testament in its first 17 verses.  What?   In a genealogy?  Trust me, it's there.  We have just trained ourselves to ignore it.   As the author says, "…the Old Testament tells the story which Jesus completed.  It declares the promise which he fulfilled.  It provides the pictures and models which shaped his identity.  It programmes a mission which he accepted and passed on.  It teaches a moral orientation to God and the world which he endorsed, sharpened, and laid as the foundation for obedient discipleship."  That statement summarizes the six chapters, all of which are lengthy, but handily divided into digestible sections.
            My favorite section was probably the one where he proves the Deity of Jesus—by using the Old Testament!  It is far more obvious than just the well-known events of John 8 where Jesus ultimately declares, "Before Abraham was, I AM!"  It becomes more and more apparent that Jesus very carefully chose his words and actions to parallel passages in the Old Testament that apply to God the Father in order to astound, and even appall, the religious leaders of his day.  But then, as God, he had every right to.
            This book has two companions, one each for God and the Holy Spirit.  I will let you know how those go too.  This one has more than passed muster.
            Knowing Jesus through the Old Testament is published by InterVarsity Press.
 
Dene Ward

I saw him first in the early spring, the days still cool and breezy, the sun only barely warming the greening grass.  I am not sure exactly how he reached the feeder next to my window, but later I saw him hopping down one limb at a time to the ground.  His right wing was broken, dragging on whatever surface he stood; he was unable to lift it at all.  Yet by hopping upward one limb at a time, I surmised, he had managed to get to a plentiful food supply and ate as much as he needed.
            All spring he came, usually after the other birds had eaten their fill and left.  I made sure he had plenty and he seemed to appreciate it, eying me from the safety beyond the window where I sat as he pecked the seed.  Finally his wing began to mend.  After a couple of weeks he was able to pull it up a bit.  Gradually he pulled it closer and closer to his body, and suddenly one afternoon he gave it a try and flew to the feeders out in the yard, the ones on straight poles that he couldn’t reach before.  His flight was wobbly, swooping down toward the grass in a dive I thought would crash-land, but then he managed to flap a bit and rise to land on the red plastic perch.
            His wing and his maneuvers have both improved.  I can still tell which one he is, though, because that wing healed crookedly and still bows out from his body as if he has his hand in his pocket, elbow stuck out, but his flying is straight and sure now.  He survived what might have brought death to any other bird, perhaps because of the free and easy meal he could still manage to reach while he healed.
            Isn’t that why God put us here together?  When one of us has a broken wing, the rest of us do what we can to help.  It may be physical—taking meals to the ill or injured or those recovering from surgeries.  But far more often it is a spiritual break, a soul in jeopardy from the pitfalls of life that have left him maimed and unable to care for himself.
            And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all. 1 Thessalonians 5:14
            We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Romans 15:1
            Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. Galatians 6:2.
            In this way we follow the example of our Lord:  a bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not quench…Matt 12:20.  Just as he healed so many broken souls, he expects us to do the same.
            Sometimes it is difficult to deal with these broken souls.  It takes time, it takes effort, sometimes it even takes heartache and tears. It means we might miss a planned outing, a meal, or maybe some sleep.  Taking care of those in pain can take up your life—but then, isn’t service supposed to be our life when we give it all to the Suffering Servant?  Service by definition is never convenient. 
            Look around for those broken wings.  God expects you to be His agent in taking care of His ailing children.  Feed them, care for them, listen, advise, and if necessary, correct.  Above all, be patient—healing takes time.  If you aren’t willing to do that, then maybe the broken wing is yours.
 
Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who have an anxious heart, "Be strong; fear not! Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God. He will come and save you." Isaiah 35:3-4

Dene Ward

We just bundled several services for a better price and more items.  In fact, the price we were quoted for four services was what we had before paid for two.  We asked every question we could think to ask.  Everything sounded good and we were thrilled.
            We just got the first bill.  I spent the next half hour on the phone trying to find out why this bill was 30% higher than I was told it would be.  Easy one, as it turns out.  The quote I got was the base price and did not include taxes, surcharges and all sorts of fees. 
            I was not happy. Yet, after I sat down and refigured everything, we were still getting four services for the price we had formerly paid for three.  We are still saving money, which was the reason for the whole switch.  Everything had become higher than our new retirement budget allowed and now, despite my disappointment, we are still under budget. 
            Don’t you just hate fine print?  I would much rather know what the total price is, not be surprised with it when the first bill arrives.
            Jesus did not believe in fine print either.  He laid it on the line. 
            “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.”
            “I came not to bring peace but a sword.”
            “Go and sell all you have and follow me.”
            “If any would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”
            “You shall be hated of all men for my name’s sake.”
            “Some of you will be put to death.”
            “If you do not repent, you shall all likewise perish.”
            “Go thy way and sin no more.”
            Jesus told everyone what to expect.  He never sugar-coated it.  He never promised wealth and ease in this life.  What he did promise was a life of bliss and glory--in Eternity, not in Time.  And it isn’t a bait and switch.   
            He never said you won’t be persecuted.  In fact, he told his people to count on it.  He told them to rejoice when they were badly treated.  It puts us in good company.  “For so persecuted they the prophets before you.”
            He never said wealth would accompany our conversions.  In fact, he called wealth a danger to our souls. 
            He never said we would be healthy; that no trials of life would ever touch us.  He simply said, “I know how you feel.  I will not forsake you.”
            Jesus spelled it out.  We can know the final bill before it ever arrives.  If we are shocked because we have to suffer, then we just ignored what we did not want to hear.  He never tried to hide it.
            He also told us exactly what He will give us.  I am still getting a good deal on my little bundle, but it doesn’t compare to the deal I get with the Lord.  What the Lord offers is beyond our imaginations.  Even the words God uses for our frail intellect cannot express the glory that awaits a child of God.
            Go ahead and sign the contract.  You won’t have a nasty surprise in the mail.  And if you have signed already, remind yourself of the bundle that awaits you, especially if you are in the midst of trials now.  It is well worth the cost.
 
His lord said unto him, Well done, good and faithful servant: you have been faithful over a few things, I will set you over many things; enter you into the joy of your lord. Matthew 25:23
 
Dene Ward
 

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.

Normally in Florida, oak leaves fall in January and February and pollen and new leaves come in a week or two. But, this year after I finished blowing, raking and bagging, we were sitting on the patio and watching green leaves fall from the trees. It's not that unusual to see the grass turn brown or flowers wilt, but when the trees start dropping green leaves, one knows he is in the middle of a drought! Just as the human body shuts down the extremities under extreme trauma, the plants wilt or the trees shed green leaves in attempt to save the life of the tree itself.

When members start falling away, we must ask one question, are they dropping off because the body is not getting enough water of life? Many of the members may be wilting in the pews, attending every week but no fruit borne from relationships with the other members. Failure to develop relationships with sinners with a goal to convert them is a dangerous symptom of a lack of life giving sustenance. The knowledge level of the members stays about the same year after year and faith actually declines. The hearing that produces faith requires applying and living the words heard. Attendance may be fine and truth may be preached but churches are shedding green leaves all over the country during spring season.

Positive preaching that never offends anyone creates a false sense of security. The word was preached. The members heard it and everyone is happy. We have close fellowship and interactions. All is good. Nothing false is preached and challenges are even offered in a kindy way. The green leaves keep on falling.

I sometimes wonder if people read the gospels like they were some sort of saintly fairy take with no meaning for real life. Not even Jesus could preach without words that seem harsh and overly demanding to our sensitive ("itching"?) ears. In the Sermon on the Mount alone, Don't pray like the hypocrites; Don't give like the hypocrites; Don't cast out motes like a hypocrite who has a beam in his eye. To those who would follow, he offers demands, Leave everything for me; Let the dead bury the dead; Whoever loves Father or Mother more is not worthy. To those who followed closest, her reserved the harsh, "O you of little faith;" and he called Peter, "Satan."

The apostles learned even though modern applauded preachers have not, Peter accused his first two audiences of murder, Stephen called his audience "stiffnecked and uncircumcised in heart and ears;" Paul shook the dust from his feet against the chosen people of God after his second sermon to them.

So, all teaching does not need to be sharp and demanding, but if you have not felt the call to make major sacrifices in your lifestyle, or to repent of sins, or to get out of the pew and go to work for God, maybe the sermons lack water. If you have not felt a touch of the fear of hell, maybe you are better than I or hearts have become calloused by a positive, unoffensive gospel, " which is not another gospel: only there are some that trouble you, and would pervert the gospel of Christ."

When green leaves start falling, the life of the tree is in danger.
 
Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; so neither can you, except you abide in me.  I am the vine, you are the branches: He that abides in me, and I in him, the same bears much fruit: for apart from me you can do nothing.  If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered; and they gather them, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned John15:6.
 
Keith Ward
 
 

In the winter sparrows invade my yard, swarming the feeders like ants.  It is nothing unusual for 15 or so to cover the trough by the window, while a dozen more sit in the azaleas waiting for an opening.  Meanwhile, thirty to forty hop along the ground, flitting back and forth to the smaller hanging feeders, which sway from the impetus of their continual take-offs.  After several frosts the brown and black grass successfully camouflages their drab brown and gray feathers.  I can only tell they are there because frosted off grass doesn’t ordinarily move, but that grass literally writhes.
            Brown and gray—drab colors compared to the brilliant red cardinals, the bright yellow goldfinches, the contrasting red and yellow bars on the blackbird’s wing, and the patchwork quilt feathers of the painted bunting.  Even the brown of the Carolina wren is comparatively bright, and the stark contrasts of the zebra-striped black and white warbler perched pecking at the suet cage draws your eye far sooner than the mousy little sparrow.
            But someday you should sit at my window when one of them lands on the trough not six inches from your nose.  Up close the intricate patterns on their wings suddenly turn those drab colors into a source of wonder and delight.  Like delicate lace, the brown and gray sections, outlined by white and spotted with black, will keep your attention for a half hour or more as you struggle to discern the pattern God has placed in their tiny feathers.  No artist could have created anything so exquisite, especially using those colors.
            And what about you?  God can take your drab colors and create a creature far beyond your imagination.  He can take a miserable life and give it purpose, a sorrowful spirit and make it joyous, a selfish heart and tenderize it with compassion.  He can take a soul overwhelmed by the darkness of sin and make it bright with the reflection of its Savior.
            There is nothing drab about the life of a Christian.  God can make even the most ordinary person extraordinary.  We have no need for garish colors, for manmade ornament, or the laurels of worldly praise.  We know who we are—new creatures, “created in Christ Jesus for good works,” each of us beautiful in His glory.  If all you see are drab colors, you just haven’t gotten close enough.
 
…Put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and…be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and…put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness, Eph 4:22-24.

Dene Ward

I looked in the pantry the other day for a box of pasta.  Know what I found?  Spaghetti, penne rigate, orzo, linguini, lasagna, shells, and elbow macaroni.  I stood there at least five minutes trying to figure out which one I wanted to use.  Then I needed vinegar.  There was apple cider vinegar, white vinegar, balsamic vinegar, rice vinegar, white wine vinegar, red wine vinegar, and homemade rosemary vinegar.  That took even longer. 
            I remember the old days when I had spaghetti and macaroni, apple cider vinegar and all purpose white.  I didn’t have enough money in the grocery budget to play around with anything else.  We still aren’t rich, but we are certainly better off than thirty years ago, and being better off has cost me a lot of time lately, trying to figure out what I want to use instead of just grabbing the only thing available and throwing it in the pot.
            That made me wonder what this economy and this culture is costing the Lord’s body.  Things may be changing, but we can still worship without fear.  So what do we do?  Since we don’t face actual physical persecution, we find silly things to fight about among ourselves.  Since we have plenty in the coffers due to our more affluent membership, we argue about what to do with it, and often wind up “burying our money” in bank accounts. 
            In the very old days, the brethren were too busy fighting pagan culture and hostile government to fight among themselves.  In the more recent old days, money was hard to come by for everyone so when they got a little they were quick to share it.  I’ve seen that in secular organizations.  I was involved with a local music teacher’s group that regularly emptied its bank account giving to needy students for lessons and school music programs for supplies.  Then we put together a community cookbook, made $1000 in one month and had to practically pry anything past several members who, once they had gotten a taste of financial security, didn’t want to give it up.
            We often say, “Be careful what you wish for.”  When we can read in the scriptures of churches so poor they didn’t have enough themselves but still begged to be a part of the giving, I think I understand why wealth is such a dangerous thing.  When things are so easy for us that we look for petty things to fight about, Satan is using that wealth, that security, that life of ease to tear us apart and make us ineffective at the mission God has set before us. 
            Maybe that’s why persecution is looked at favorably in so many passages.  Maybe that’s why wealth in the New Testament is never pictured as anything but dangerous. 
            I just looked in my pantry again.  I have all-purpose flour, cake flour, bread flour, almond flour, semolina flour, 00 pizza flour, and whole wheat flour.  Despite my protestations, I am too wealthy. 
            It’s time to go fix dinner.  I don’t know whether to use the basmati rice, the brown rice, or the Arborio rice.  Do you know what to do with the blessings you have?
 
We want you to know, brothers, about the grace of God that has been given among the churches of Macedonia, for in a severe test of affliction, their abundance of joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part. For they gave according to their means, as I can testify, and beyond their means, of their own accord, begging us earnestly for the favor of taking part in the relief of the saints-- and this, not as we expected, but they gave themselves first to the Lord and then by the will of God to us.
2 Corinthians 8:1-5
 
Dene Ward

Too many couples make this one sad mistake.  Things might seem to be going along smoothly, but finally, one day they will realize what they did wrong, and what they have lost in the process, and it might be too late to get it back.
            I remember exactly what we were doing.  We were on the way home, my mother driving while my sister and I sat in the backseat.  She pulled into the left turn lane on 56th Street and as we sat there waiting for the traffic to clear so we could head home, she said, "Girls.  You know I love you both very much.  You are my sweet girls, and I am so proud of you.  But you also need to know this one important thing:  your Daddy will always be first to me.  It doesn't mean I don't love you.  It just means he is the most important part of my life and that's the way it's supposed to be. Okay?"
            I was a young teenager at the time, no more than 14, and my sister about 10.  Somehow, probably her voice and demeanor—in spite of the fact that she was driving—told me that this was important and I should remember it.  Here I am over five decades later and now I know.  Yes, it was important, and it was important for us to hear it because within six years I had a husband and I needed to make certain that no matter how much I loved my children—and I was a fierce mother, let me tell you—I needed to know that he must come first. 
            The marriage must be the center of the family, not the children, for so many reasons.  First, one of these days those children will fly the nest.  In fact, that is a parent's job—to make sure they do, and that they know how to.  What happens when they are all gone if you have neglected your marriage?  You find yourself married to a stranger.  I have seen marriages disintegrate at that stage for exactly that reason.  "We have grown apart."  Nonsense—you just neglected your relationship.  Marriage is high maintenance.  If you do not take care of it, it will die.
            Second, you are supposed to be showing your children how to run a home, and that means showing them a strong marriage at its center.  This is how to keep the relationship alive in spite of growing responsibilities and the stresses of life.  You rely on one another and you support one another.  If she has a down time, he lifts her up.  When he has trials and struggles, she is there to help him.  When you show them these things, you insure that their own marriages will work better.
            Third, the children need to learn early on that they are not the center of the universe.  No one else will treat them that way, so if you do, you are setting them up for a hard fall.  Their teachers, their bosses, even their friends (if they have any) will not treat them that way.  It will be a very hard lesson to learn.  I have seen fathers give up a chance for a promotion because their children did not want to move away from their friends.  I have seen mothers nearly run the family bankrupt trying to get everything a child thinks s/he simply "must" have.  Here's a clue:  no one likes entitled, ungrateful people.  If you want your children to grow into good and kind people, do not let them run your home.  It will cause a disaster sooner or later.  Teach them, instead, how to be part of a loving group that works together for the good of all.          
            And then there is this simple fact.  The marriage is the center of the home because it is the foundation of it all.  If the marriage is stable, no matter how catastrophic the ordeal the family is going through, it is far more likely to survive.  Your children should know that they always have you to look up to when things get tough.  That you will show them how to get through hard times.  They need to see the two of you leaning on one another, while at the same time welcoming them into your sheltering, but tightly clasped together, arms. 
            My mother was right.  Yet, even though I knew my Daddy came first with her, I never doubted that she loved me.  Your children need to know that too.
 
And Jehovah God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and he slept; and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof:  and the rib, which Jehovah God had taken from the man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man.  And the man said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man.  Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh, Gen 2:21-24.
 
Dene Ward

Our bird watching has spilled over into our camping trips.  Somewhere along the way it dawned on us that we could see different birds in different areas of the country.  So we began carrying small bags of birdseed and scattering it around the campsites.  I saw my first savannah sparrow at Blackwater River, my first nuthatch at Cloudland Canyon, and on our latest trip, my first dark-eyed junco at Black Rock Mountain.
            That’s not all we saw.  We had laid the seed along the landscaping timbers that both defined the site and kept our little aerie from washing down the mountainside.  As long as we sat fairly still and talked quietly, the little gray birds with the white vests hopped closer and closer down the long chunk of weathered wood, pecking at the free and easy meal.  Suddenly a loud crunch behind us caused the birds to fly.  We turned and there sat a fat gray squirrel enjoying the free meal himself, and much more of it.
            “Shoo!” we yelled simultaneously.  He reached down and pawed another kernel.
            Keith hopped up and spun around his chair, clapping his hands with every “Git!” and every step.  Finally the squirrel hopped away, not nearly as scared as I wished.
            Since he was up anyway, Keith started the cook fire and I walked around the tent toward the back of the truck where we stowed our food supplies.  There on the other side of the tent sat the squirrel, once again noshing on the birdseed.
            “Scat!” I shouted, running right at him.  Again he turned and leisurely hopped away.
            After that we were up and around a bit and he kept his distance.  But soon Keith had stepped back into the woods to pick up some deadfall for a later fire in the evening while he waited for the flame to die down to coals, and I was in the screen tent setting the table and prepping the chops for grilling.  I looked up just in time to see that little marauder headed straight for the open screen door, gently waving in the breeze.  He had bypassed the birdseed and was aiming to score people food.
            Only my clumsiness and advancing years kept me from vaulting the table.  Instead, I ran around it, knocking both knees on the corner of the bench and nearly laming myself in the process, stomping, yelling, clapping, and every other noise I could manage.  For once he showed a little alarm and scooted through the brush surrounding us.
            Keith returned and we both bustled around the tents, the truck, and the fire, cooking and laying out the meal.  Half an hour later we sat down to inch thick, herb-rubbed, wood-grilled pork chops, Spanish rice, and skillet corn and red peppers.  Meanwhile, the squirrel sat down to more birdseed.  He crept up behind Keith, he crept up behind me.  He hopped along the timber behind the fire, then tried the one behind the tent.  Every time Keith jumped up and scared him off.
            After the sixth or seventh time that I touched Keith’s hand and pointed, he hung his head in defeat.  “Let him eat,” he said, ferociously stabbing a fork into his chop and sawing with far more exertion than necessary, “so I can.”
            That’s exactly the way Satan comes after us.  Do you need a Biblical example to believe this?  How about Potiphar’s wife (Genesis 39)?  She appealed to Joseph’s natural appetites first, by far the strongest appeal to a young man.  She made it look rewarding—she was the Master’s wife after all, imagine the extra privileges he might have received.  She spoke to Joseph “day by day,” a constant and growing pressure on him.  Even though he seems to have made it his business to avoid her, finally she managed to catch him alone—now it was even easier to give in.  And boy, did she make him pay when he didn’t.
            Satan is persistent.  He comes from every angle and tries every trick.   Sometimes he comes as often as every few minutes.  He will never give up.  Even just fighting him will cost you—time, comfort, convenience, security, wealth, friends, freedom, maybe even your life.  But if you give up, the cost is even worse.  If you say, “Let him eat,” he will—he will “devour” your eternal soul, every last bite.
 
Be sober, be watchful: your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, prowls about, seeking whom he may devour…Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our wrestling is not against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world-rulers of this darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. Wherefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and, having done all, to stand…To that end keep alert with all perseverance…1 Peter 5:8; Ephesians 6:11-13, 18.
 
Dene Ward

One of the most challenging aspects of studio teaching is switching horses midstream.  Every forty-five minutes I not only had to rev up the excitement when greeting a new student, I had to change my perspective.
            I had one voice student who could scarcely carry a tune.   We spent a good deal of the lesson practicing matching pitches.  The next student was singing Italian art song and learning to trill.  One I applauded for simply getting through the song in key, the other I reprimanded for breathing in the middle of a word.  A five year old piano student would walk in with her eight bar tune, followed by a senior in high school working on a concerto.  One I praised for playing the right rhythm while only missing two notes.  The other I castigated for poor phrase shaping and improper execution of an appoggiatura.  It would have been unfair to expect a five year old to understand an appoggiatura when he didn’t even know key signatures yet.  It would have been cruel to try to teach a voice student with a challenged ear to trill.
            So I should not have been surprised at what I found in this study of faith that has consumed the past year of my life, but I was.  I wonder if it will surprise you too.  Every time Jesus said, “O ye of little faith,” he was talking to his disciples.  Sometimes other people heard it too, but if you check every account, he was addressing those who followed him daily—“ye of little faith.”  Yet the only times I could find people praised for their “great faith” they were Gentiles!
            That tells me a lot.  First, faith isn’t just a one-time first principle.  If even those who had enough faith to “leave all and follow” could be told their faith was “little,” then faith is something alive and growing.  Jesus expected it to carry them through their lives and become an asset to them, not a burden that might be “lost.” 
            Perhaps the most important thing we learn is something Jesus said in another context:  To whom much is given, of him much shall be required, Luke 12:48.  Those men had been with Jesus 24/7 for a year or more and he expected them to have matured.  I know a lot of people who like to claim they have “strong faith.”  Be careful when you do that.  God may just test your claim: “and from whom they entrusted much, they will demand the more.” 
            So examine your faith.  Is it growing?  Can you handle more adversity today than you did a decade ago?  God expects quick growth.  The people in the first century committed their lives to Him, knowing they might be thrown to the lions the next week.  I worry that too many of us commit our lives to Him expecting all of our problems to disappear in a week.  It’s supposed to be an instant fix to all earthly woes, instead of what He promised--an instant fix to our sins. 
            What exactly are you expecting of your relationship with God?  Some of us try to hold God hostage with our expectations.  “I have faith that God will…” and then we sit back confidently waiting for him to do our will, instead of waiting on His will. 
            Which would the Lord say to you:  “O ye of little faith,” or “I have not found so great faith, no not in Israel?”
 
But as for you, O man of God, flee these things. Pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses. 1 Timothy 6:11-12.                                              
 
Dene Ward
 

The 1930s were famous for more than one disaster.  Besides the Great Depression they were also known as the Dirty Thirties.  Drought, over-farming, and over-grazing turned the once fertile land of the Great Plains into the Dust Bowl.  100 million acres of farmland were affected.  Dozens of massive dust storms blew through every year of that decade. 
            Those storms were far more dangerous than we realize.  All during that decade, schools were often closed to prevent "dust pneumonia" in those traveling back and forth.  If the children were already at school when a storm began, they were often kept overnight to keep them out of the filthy air. Cars drug chains behind them to ground them due to the high voltage static electricity that the dust caused and which led to several electrocutions.  People knew to sweep the dust off their roofs, but they forgot that dust seeps into cracks and many attics collapsed on the families beneath.
            After reading all that I knew that my incredibly dust-producing house was not as bad as I always thought.  Still, though, it is the dustiest place we have ever lived. A few weeks ago I got out the dust rags and the polish and went to work.  It had been over two months since I had dusted anything at all and it was showing, not just on the furniture, but in my nose and lungs—I have a dust mite allergy. 
            I knew it would take awhile and it did, dusting every flat surface and every item on them, including a large dinner bell collection, vases from Bethlehem and Nicaragua, and those porcelain bootee-shaped vases that flowers had come in when the boys were born, figurines inherited from grandmothers and great-aunts, a wooden airplane Keith’s grandfather whittled inside an empty bottle, candles, telephones, a small piano collection, a metronome, fan blades, jewelry boxes, and beaucoup picture frames.  I dirtied up four rags in an hour and a half, sneezed a couple dozen times, and required a decongestant in order to breathe the rest of the day.
            When I finished I looked around.  The pictures all reflected brightly in the wood they sat on, the porcelain shone, the candles looked a shade brighter, and the brass gleamed.  What a difference it made to dust things off.
            So what do you need to dust off in your life?   Sometimes we become satisfied with our place in the kingdom, happy with where we are in our spiritual growth, comfortable in our relationships with others and our ability to overcome.  Sometimes we sit so long in our comfortable spot, be it a literal pew or a figurative one, that we soon sport our own layer of dust.  Maybe we aren’t doing anything wrong exactly, we have just stopped stretching ourselves to be better and do more. 
            “Dusting off” seems a good metaphor for “renewal.”  Paul tells the Colossians we have “put off our old selves” (past tense) but that the new self is “being renewed” (present tense), Col 3:9,10.  Being renewed has not stopped and never should.  Every day is a new beginning for the child of God.  When we forget that, the dust starts to settle, and our light is dimmed with a layer of uselessness that builds every minute.  Soon, as the light weakens, no one will notice us, or is that the point?
            When did you last dust yourself off and get to work, “transforming yourself by the renewing of your mind?” Rom 12:2.  That layer of dust will build and build until it collapses on your unsuspecting spirit, giving you a case of dust pneumonia from which you may never recover.
 
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me, Psalms 51:10.
 
Dene Ward