More than once I have been outside weeding and accidentally pulled up a fistful of thorns.  Usually it’s a blackberry vine, though stinging nettles are not far behind on the list.  Either one makes for pain and blood loss for at least a little while and I try hard to look a little closer before the next pull.
            Not too long ago I saw a picture of a plant called “Crown of Thorns.”  It’s an import to our country, a type of cactus, but one that is notoriously picky about its surroundings.  You can only grow it in Zone 10 or higher, but once you get it going, it’s nearly impossible to kill.  It is heat and drought tolerant.  Long after other houseplants would have died from neglect, it will even bloom.
            The photos I saw made me think of the crown of thorns we are familiar with as Christians, the one the soldiers wove and placed upon Jesus’ head.  I doubt it was the same plant, but it looked as I imagined that one would, a thick stem covered with long sharp spines.  I cannot even imagine trying to weave the thing without leaving yourself a bloody mess.
           
            We sing a song with these lyrics by William Featherston:

1. My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine;
   For Thee all the follies of sin I resign;
   My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou;
   If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
2. I love Thee because Thou hast first loved me,
   And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree;
   I love Thee for wearing the thorns on Thy brow;
   If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
3. I’ll love Thee in life, I will love Thee in death,
   And praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath;
   And say when the death dew lies cold on my brow,
   If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
4. In mansions of glory and endless delight,
   I’ll ever adore Thee in heaven so bright;
   I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow,
   If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

            I missed it all my life until Keith pointed out the thirds lines of verses 2 and 4.  “I love thee for wearing the thorns on thy brow,” and, “I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow.”  Jesus wore a crown of thorns so I could wear a crown of glory.  If it was anything like those plants I saw, it was a bigger sacrifice than one might ever have thought, but the symbolism is profound because everything he went through that horrible night was for me.  And you.  Even that prickly crown.
            Now, as his disciples, what sort of crown am I willing to wear for others?  Can I, as the Corinthians were chided to do, give up my liberties?  Can I concede a point even if I know I am right because in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter?  Can I stop an argument instead of continuing one?      Can I let someone else have the last word?
          Can I give up my time and convenience for the sake of someone who needs an encouraging word?  Can I skip a meal to visit the lonely?  Can I miss a ball game to hold a Bible study?
           Can I stay up a little later to pray a little longer?  Can I turn off the TV to spend some time in the Word?  Can I make teaching my children about God a priority instead of something we just try to fit in when we can?
            None of those things will cause the kind of bloodletting those thorns did, but if I cannot even do those paltry things, how can I even hope to wear that “glittering crown on my brow?”  If that makes me uncomfortable and ashamed, good.  That’s why we sing those songs.  They are to teach and admonish, not produce feel-good pep rallies.
         When I am weeding in the garden, I do my best to avoid the thorns.  Maybe in life, I should be out there looking for a few to wear.
 
And the soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head and arrayed him in a purple robe, John 19:2
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing, 2Tim 4:7-8.
 
Dene Ward

Did you ever notice that the higher you advanced in the educational system, the quieter and more attentive the students became?  Finally, as we approached those last few years of college when the majority of our classes were in our chosen fields, discipline problems virtually disappeared.  We had matured to the point that we understood our need for the things we were being taught.  Maybe that explains a lot about those who choose to miss Bible studies or simply choose not to study the Bible at all, in spite of claiming to believe it.
(from Growing Toward Spiritual Maturity by Dene Ward) 

For everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child. But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil (Heb 5:13-14).

We are well over a thousand now—and counting.  I have been writing up these little things so long I can’t watch something happen without thinking the phrase above.  In fact, more than once Keith and I have looked at one another after some oddball event and said it in unison: “There oughtta be a devo in that.”
            “Go to the ant, thou sluggard.  Consider her ways and be wise,” Solomon wrote.  “Look at the birds,” Jesus said, and, “Consider the lilies.”  Both of them taught valuable lessons from the things around them.  The parables were nothing more than every day occurrences with analogous meanings.  Parables were not uncommon in the Old Testament either, and many of the prophets taught lessons with the visual aids of their own lives or actions.  Hosea and Ezekiel come instantly to mind.
            Even the writers of the New Testament used athletic contests, farming truisms, and anatomical allegories to teach us what we need to know about our relationship with God, with one another, and in our homes and communities.  Telling stories is a time-honored and perfectly scriptural way of teaching God’s word.
            In fact, maybe if we started looking at the world that way, at the things that happen in our daily lives as if they had some meaning beyond the mundane, some deeper spiritual use, it might just be that our lives would change for the better.  It might be easier to see where we need to grow, maybe a place we need to make a one-eighty before we get much further down the road.  There is something about watching a dumb animal and thinking, “I didn’t even have that much sense,” that will straighten out your attitude.
            If I have done nothing else for you in all these years, maybe I have accomplished this.  Maybe you have learned to look at the things around you and say, “There IS a devo in that—I need to make a change.”
 
But ask the beasts, and they will teach you; the birds of the heavens, and they will tell you; or the bushes of the earth, and they will teach you; and the fish of the sea will declare to you. Who among all these does not know that the hand of the LORD has done this? Job 12:7-9.
 
Dene Ward

It's been a couple of years since I shared the Life of David game with you, a board game I made up and used with my children, my young Bible students, and now my grandsons.  That's not the only one I made.  This past spring my grandsons had their first time playing the Major Prophets game.
            First, let me explain this:  this is not about the five books we call the Major Prophets, Isaiah through Daniel.  This is a game about the four major literary prophets—Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel—and three of the major nonliterary prophets—Nathan, Elijah, and Elisha.
            Second, this is not a wind around the trail start to finish game.  This one is built along the lines of Monopoly, a repetitive rectangle with squares all around the perimeter.  You play for a certain amount of time or until someone reaches a certain point total, however you wish to do it.  My grandsons and I play for a half hour, after which the one with the most points wins.  And, when we hit the half hour mark, we finish a round so that each person has the same number of turns.  Each square around the board contains one prophet's name or a place that is important in one of their lives, scattered at intervals.  Only the names are repeated here and there; the places are not.
            Third, unlike the David game, you do not have to know much to start playing.  You learn as you play, as long as you keep control and don't let them try to rush from one person's turn to another's.  You have to explain the stories as they come up, and the children must listen as you go, so YOU need to know your prophets' lives even if they do not.
            In the center of the board are places to put stacks of card (each the size of one-third of an index card) for each of the prophets.  On these cards are events in the prophets' lives or events they prophesied.  For example, in the stack of Nathan cards you will find, "Go to Jerusalem.  Tell David the story of the ewe lamb, 10 points," and when a child draws that card it is up to you to tell that story.  Or you might find in the Elisha stack, "Go to Shunem.  A wealthy woman there has built a room onto her house for you to stay in when you travel through.  10 points."  Or you might find in the Jeremiah stack, "Go to Jerusalem.  King Jehoiakim burns your book.  Lose 10 points."  Each time you tell a story or explain an event, go over pertinent details carefully, and repeat them at least once.
            Also in the center of the board is a stack of questions.  If they have listened carefully to all the cards, which they will eventually hear again and again, they will be able to answer them when they land on a "?" square, several of which are also scattered around the perimeter of the board.
            And finally, you will find in the middle of the board the really bad places they might have to go should they pick up that particular card:  the Lion's Den, the Miry Pit, Prison, and the Cave of Mt Horeb.  At any time you might draw a card from the Daniel or Jeremiah or Elijah stacks and be sent to one of those places.  The only way to get out is to answer a question correctly.  Instead of rolling, they will choose one from the question stack.  If they get the right answer, then they come out one square (three squares lead out from each place), receive the points on the card, and the next turn they roll as usual, finding their way back to the outside perimeter trail.
            Just as with the David game, this is not rocket science.  And it must be painfully obvious that I am not any kind of artist at all, but it has never bothered any of the children who played these games.  You can do this yourself.  This one does require more work for you than the David game did.  Not only do you have to know your prophets, but then you have to make the cards for each prophet and the question cards, besides drawing the board itself.  Click on the gallery in the left sidebar to see what it looks like, but you can use and adapt  this idea for any number of things you wish to teach your children or your Bible class.  You will have also taught them that Bible study can be fun and interesting as well. 
 
I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their brothers. And I will put my words in his mouth, and he shall speak to them all that I command him (Deut 18:18).
 
You can find the article on the David game in the book Two Little Boys or the July 2018 archives at July 12.  Also a picture in the gallery at left.

Dene Ward

A lot of folks declare her presumptuous to even make such a request, but most of those people aren’t any better than she was when you come right down to it.
            Salome, the wife of Zebedee, mother of James and John, came to Jesus in Matthew 20 asking what seems, at first glance, to be an audacious favor.  Grant that these two sons of mine are to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left in your kingdom, v 21.
            Before you think to take her to task, read also Matt 27:56, Mark 15:40, and John 19:25.  If you take a moment to match up those women standing at the cross with the writers’ various descriptions of them, you will find excellent evidence that Salome may have been Jesus’ aunt, Mary’s sister.  When you sift through other facts it makes excellent sense.  If James and John were his cousins, no wonder they were in that special inner circle, and Peter would have been included because he was their close friend and business partner.  If John (the disciple whom Jesus loved) was indeed the youngest apostle, as seems likely, the “baby cousin” could have had a special place in Jesus’ heart from his birth, and it certainly makes sense that Jesus would put his mother, John’s own aunt, into his care after his death.
            It also means that Salome was Aunt Salome, and asking her nephew for this favor was not that much of a request, especially if these two cousins were his only relatives among the twelve.  Why shouldn’t they be his first and second “vice-presidents?”
            Then there are those who will fuss about her misunderstanding of the kingdom.  “Tsk-tsk,” it was all about the physical with her. Wasn’t it all about the physical with just about everyone, including his closest companions?  How many times did they fuss about who was the greatest among them, even the night Jesus was betrayed?  Even after his resurrection when he had been “speaking about the kingdom” for forty days, Acts 1:3, they questioned him just moments before his ascension, “Will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” (v 6).  Obviously, they still thought in terms of a physical kingdom.
            Was it only once that he had to resist the urge of the people to make him king, John 6:15?  I doubt it.  How many times did he have to say, My kingdom is not of this world, John 18:36, or, Behold, the kingdom of God is within you, Luke 17:21?
            Even the early Christians had to be reminded that the kingdom was spiritual; that the things that might have counted in a physical kingdom were of no value in the spiritual domain.  Wealth didn’t matter; race didn’t matter; gender didn’t matter; status didn’t matter, Gal 3:28; Col 3:11.  Our weapons are spiritual, not of the flesh, but mighty before God, 2 Cor 10:4.  The greatest in the kingdom is the servant of all, not the master.  Yet they still had trouble.
            The mainstream religious world today has the same problem.  Still carnal minded, still “immature” as Paul calls it in I Cor 3, they expect a physical kingdom for a limited amount of time on a physical earth.  What is that but the same old notion the Jews had, who laughed at the idea of a humble man with uneducated followers ever conquering anything, much less the world?  What is that but the disciples placing grandiosity ahead of humility?  And what is that any more than a mother wanting the best for her sons?  When you read the gospels, you can almost hear Jesus sigh in frustration, “How long must I bear with you?”
            We have exactly the same problem today when we expect nothing but physical blessings as a Christian.  How can it be right for me to suffer illness and loss, “after all I’ve done?”  How can it be right for me to face a severe financial setback from the relative wealth I have grown accustomed to or, horror upon horrors, to live in poverty “when I’ve been faithful to you Lord?”  Once again we are asking God to restore a physical kingdom with physical blessings.  Our shallow-mindedness has made it impossible to see that the spiritual is far more important, and that, I am afraid, will make us unsuited for that spiritual kingdom.
            But God is patient.  Jesus did bear with those apostles a little longer.  However, notice this—they finally came to grips with the reality of a spiritual kingdom, enough so that they gave up everything, including their lives.  Jesus will bear with us for awhile too.  Just don’t wait too long to figure it out.
 
For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. Whoever thus serves Christ is acceptable to God...Rom 14:17,18.
 
Dene Ward
 

I remember when they started, just barely, on July 1, 1963.  I was still in elementary school and never sent any mail myself, but I remember my parents having to memorize our brand new code—the US Postal Service Zone Improvement Plan, or ZIP code for short. 
            If you never knew it, those numbers do mean something.  The first number is the National Area.  The next two are the Sectional Center or Large City Post Office.  The last two are the Associate Post Office or Delivery Area.  It all came about because of the huge increase in mail and the new automated systems.  At first, using zip codes wasn't legally required, and actually, it still isn't, but if you want a relatively quick delivery, I wouldn't buck the system if I were you.  It works so well that it has become a model for other countries.  Imagine that (of something run by the government).
            Did you know that four people have their own personal zip codes?  The President of the United States (20500-0001), the First Lady (20500-0002), Smokey Bear (20252), and of course, Santa, who takes the Canadian postal code HOH OHO.  Not so in the US, where all his letters are sent to North Pole, Alaska, and he shares his zip code with that town, 99705.
            Although zip codes are supposed to help mail carriers and others find addresses more quickly, it doesn't always work that way.  In central Pennsylvania off interstate 80, the town of Conyngham, with the zip code of 18219, sits right smack in the middle of Sugarloaf, PA, with the zip code of 18249.  The residents of Conyngham, then, live within the zip code of 18249, but they don't live in it—like a hole in a doughnut isn't actually part of the doughnut.  You may not think this is important, but it can affect your insurance rates and property taxes, your voter registration, jury duty, and more seriously, emergency response time.  Conygham is known as the town that got swallowed up by a zip code.
            That's one thing you don't need to worry about with God.  He knows exactly where you are any time of day.  If you need Him, He can find you and your zip code doesn't make any difference at all.  In fact, His response time can beat anything man has to offer with or without the help of a zip code.
             Behold, the eye of the LORD is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his steadfast love,  (Ps 33:18).
            ​When the righteous cry for help, the LORD hears and delivers them out of all their troubles,  (Ps 34:17).
            That can be very comforting to the faithful, but don't forget the negative aspect of this promise:  For a man's ways are before the eyes of the LORD, and he ponders all his paths, (Prov 5:21).  Not only can God always find you to help you, but He also knows exactly what you are doing, whether good or bad.
            But for today, ponder this comforting promise.  Not only will God never forsake you (Psa 37:25,28; Heb 13:5), He doesn't need a zip code for rapid response.  He will not become confused should you, like the residents of Conyngham, Pennsylvania, be lost in the middle of the wrong zip code.  In fact, it is not a matter of His "finding" you, because to Him you are never lost at all.
 
For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and his ears are open to their prayer. But the face of the Lord is against those who do evil, (1Pet 3:12).
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer, Keith Ward.

My mother grew up in times both kinder and gentler, but terrible for their poverty—The Great Depression.  Her Dad owned a moderate sized farm. He had been mustard-gassed in WWI, and had a pension, so times were not as tough for her family as they were for many. Gardening was learned before there were so many hybrids and as a child, I can recall her doing what she learned as a girl – saving seeds from the best tasting fruit and vegetables for planting the next spring. Hybrids are bred to be at the pinnacle of a number of desirable traits and though seed from hybrid corn will still be corn, it will revert to its lower quality ancestors. Saving seed from a hybrid is fruitless.
 
Fruit from wild oranges is sour and useless.  But they have hardy, disease resistant roots. The well bred flavorful oranges we have come to expect have roots that will not last more than a few seasons. The solution was to graft the tree from the good orange onto the root from the wild orange and create a tree with the best qualities of both. They did this with olives in New Testament times (Rom 11:16-24).
 
One year when I was “home” to northwest Arkansas, Mom gave me a small orange tree, “because you live in Florida.” I understood that a neighbor had given it to her. I put it in a larger planter, unsure what to do with it as North Florida is not orange country. By the time I tried to do anything, it had rooted through the bottom of the planter and there it still grows by a corner of the shed, partially under a live oak. When the big thorns began to appear, I knew. On a subsequent trip home, I asked and learned that the neighbor had not given Mom a tree, but an orange from a tree that she had cultivated on her enclosed porch. Now, seed from a graft reverts to its roots, not to the trunk and branches that are seen bearing luscious fruit.  My mom reverted to her roots and saved the seed from the best tasting fruit, planted it, and gave it to me.  I continued to let the wild orange grow, an ironic tribute to my Mom.
 
What are your roots?  Too many who claim to follow Jesus try to graft some good into their lives without changing what they are deep down inside. So, out of them grows ugly fruit, sour and useless as Jesus said, “A corrupt tree cannot bring forth good fruit” and “out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.” (Mt 7:18; Lk 6:45). What passes through your mind when the leader prays, Forgive us our secret sins?” (Psa 19:12). What corruption lies within us that you and I hope that no one ever finds out? 
 
Look to your roots and change them –change who you are. Then you can bear good fruit.
 
“Wherefore if any man is in Christ, he is a new creature: the old things are passed away; behold, they are become new.” (2 Cor 5:17).
 
Prayer:
Father, help me to see that the things that I do that are wrong are the fruit of a fundamental wrong within me. Open my eyes to discern the hidden fault. Strengthen my faith and my will to change who I have always been into a new person who will bear good fruit for you.
 
Keith Ward

We were singing this song a few weeks ago when I noticed yet another word I have been singing all my life without understanding.  So I spent some time looking it up and in the process discovered something else too.  This song is another one of those gems that alludes to a scripture in nearly every phrase.  Grab your Bibles—a King James if you can since that is what these older songs are based upon—and follow along below.

Soldiers of Christ, arise, (2 Tim 2:3)
And put your armor on, (Eph 6:11)
Strong in the strength which God supplies, (1 Pet 4:11)
Through His Beloved Son; (Matt 3:17; 17:5)
 
Strong in the Lord of Hosts, (over 250 verses)
And in His mighty pow'r, (Eph 3:20)
Who in the strength of Jesus trusts (Isa 12:2)
Is more than conqueror.  (Rom 8:37)
 
Stand then in His great might, (Eph 6:10)
With all His strength endued;  (Luke 24:49)
And take, to arm you for the fight,  (2 Cor 10:24)
The panoply of God.
 
That, having all things done,
And all your conflicts past, (Eph 6:13)
You may o'ercome through Christ alone,
And stand complete at last.  (Col 4:16)
 
            Here is the first thing I learned from this exercise:  I know Eph 6 so well I tend to skip over it whenever it’s referenced.  Don’t do that!  I never realized half those other phrases were in those verses.  Don’t ever think a scripture is too familiar to be worth looking at again.
            And here is the thing that had me looking in the first place:  what in the world is a “panoply”?  Webster tells me it is 1) a full suit of armor; 2) something forming a protective coating; 3) a magnificent or impressive array.  God gives us such a complete suit of armor, such a strong protective coating, and such an impressive array of weapons that there is absolutely no excuse for failing to overcome.  If we fail to use the resources at hand, we have let Satan win.  Look at Ephesians 6 again.  With this armor we can “stand against the wiles of the devil,” (v 11); we can “withstand in the evil day” (v 13); we can “quench all the fiery darts of the evil one” (v 16)—all of them, not just some.
           Notice verse 13 one more time.  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.  If we do not overcome, then we did not “do all;” we did not take full advantage of the panoply.  We left something out, or something off, or something undone.  God has given us everything we need, and our own negligence is no excuse.  We did not behave like a faithful “Soldier of Christ.”
 
For though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ, being ready to punish every disobedience, when your obedience is complete.  2Cor 10:3-6
 
Dene Ward

Last winter we had a whole flock of turkeys come out of the woods to visit our property.  I assumed they would find their way to the bird feeders as a couple of lone turkeys had done a few years ago, but for some reason they did not.  We watched them strut down the fence line from the southwest one morning, then one by one hop/fly over the fence.  They headed straight for our fallow garden, but found precious little in the plowed ground, so they continued east toward the old pigpen where at least a few weeds might have offered them some dried seeds.  After about a half hour they started back again, just as slowly as before, did that one-hop/fly over the fence, and strutted back to the woods.
            A day or two later, I headed toward the firepit on the east side of the property, just fifteen feet or so this side of the eastern fence.  I never saw a thing until 13 turkeys suddenly flew out of the oak trees on the other side.  We are talking thirty pound birds up in the trees, big blobs of brown and I never saw them until they flew in a racket like a dozen sheets flapping on a clothesline in a stiff breeze.  How had I not seen those great big birds in winter-bare trees not a stone's throw away?  I'll tell you how—I never expected to see such a thing.  Turkeys avoid flying if they can at all for one thing, and I certainly never saw one that high up, not to mention thirteen of them!
            Which goes to show, I suppose, that we see what we expect to see, and miss what we don't expect.  Everyone does.  Jesus was certainly not the Messiah the Jews expected nor his kingdom either.  Even his apostles had trouble with that.  It can happen to us as well.  We don't see the real Jesus because society has painted such a prevalent picture of a weak, namby-pamby, accept-everyone-as-they-are picture of him.  I actually heard someone say recently, "Jesus never offended anyone."  Are they reading the same Bible I am?
            And he called to him the multitude, and said unto them, Hear, and understand: Not that which enters into the mouth defiles the man; but that which proceeds out of the mouth, this defiles the man. Then came the disciples, and said unto him, Know thou that the Pharisees were offended, when they heard this saying? But he answered and said, Every plant which my heavenly Father planted not, shall be rooted up. Let them alone: they are blind guides. And if the blind guide the blind, both shall fall into a pit (Matt 15:10-14).  And that is just one of many examples.  Jesus had no problem at all saying what needed to be said whether others liked it or not.
            Then I heard someone say, "Jesus will accept me the way I am."  Well, yes, at the beginning, but he expects change and commitment.  "Go your way and sin no more," he told the adulterous woman in John 8:11.  And what did he say to a few who wanted to follow him?  And he said unto another, Follow me. But he said, Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father. But he said unto him, Leave the dead to bury their own dead; but go thou and publish abroad the kingdom of God. And another also said, I will follow thee, Lord; but first suffer me to bid farewell to them that are at my house. But Jesus said unto him, No man, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God (Luke 9:59-62).
            And do you realize that, "O ye of little faith," was always spoken to his disciples?  Not just interested people, but people who had left all to follow him.  Kind of drill-sergeant tough, don't you think?
            Do you know why we miss those things?  Because we don't expect to hear them from Jesus, and worse, we don't want to hear them.  When the crowds of disciples turned and left after the hard sermon in John 6, Jesus did not chase them down, saying, "Wait!  I didn't mean to be so harsh.  Come back and let me try again."  No, he turned to the Twelve and said, "Are you going to leave too?"
            I pray we all have the faith Peter did at that moment and can say even to a Jesus who is not always what everyone expects to see in the Scriptures, "To whom shall we go Lord?  You have the words of Eternal Life.  And we believe and know that you are the Holy One of God" John 6:66-69.
 
…blessed is the one who is not offended by me (Matt 11:6).
 
Dene Ward

Twice now I have made peanut butter cookies with my younger grandson, Judah.  The first time he was quite young and the best he could do was add whatever I gave him to add.  This last time he was 8, and although he still had to stand on a stool, he was much more capable of "helping." 
            I already had the sugar in the bowl when he pulled up his stool.  I added the peanut butter to the new-fangled doodad that you use for semi-solid ingredients like shortening and peanut butter, that two part contraption where you pull the inside cylinder down, fill up the resulting measure, and then push out the peanut butter.  Judah managed to use the "plunger" quite easily, pushing out that two-cup blob of the main ingredient.  Then I took the tiny measuring glass, the one that measures two tablespoons.  I showed him how far to fill the vanilla, just "this much" under the 1 (tablespoon) mark, using my thumb and forefinger to indicate about an eighth inch.  He leaned over and very carefully filled the little glass a tiny bit then checking, then a bit more, then checking, until he got it just right, and then poured it in around the spinning beater that was busily creaming away the sugar and peanut butter.
            Then it was egg time.  I cracked the first egg just enough to get him started.  He took it and instead of gently pulling the two halves apart, he mashed with both thumbs against his fingers so hard they both flattened completely.  The egg splashed into the cookie dough.  Then he got down off his stool and, without being told to, took the shell to throw into the garbage.  I surreptitiously checked the batter for smithereens of eggshell.  Somehow, none had made it down into the bowl.  One more egg to go.  "Do you think you can crack it yourself?" I asked.  A very serious nod followed, so I handed him the egg and held my breath.  Let's just say, that boy does a number on eggs.  But once again, no shell pieces migrated to the batter, and the vast majority of the egg went into the mixer bowl, so we were okay.
            He really didn't want to handle the dough, making one-inch balls, so I did that myself, spacing them carefully on the parchment lined cookie sheet.  Then he got to work again, using a fork for the characteristic crisscross pattern of all peanut butter cookies which I had shown him how to make.  "It's a hashtag!" he cried, and was quite pleased with himself as he turned and mashed and turned and mashed two sheets worth of cookies.  Obviously it took a little longer to make cookies that day, but it was worth it.  He could hardly wait for them to cool enough to eat, and we had an experience we could share for our entire visit, every time one of us wanted a cookie.
            I think we in the church may have forgotten the patience a new convert takes.  Many of us are spoiled by having only the next generation of those "raised in the church" be baptized.  They are easy to deal with, already having been taught right from wrong at an early age, and sitting in Bible classes since before some of them could even say a word.  Of course most of them will know what to say, how to act, and how to tell true doctrine from the false.  But what about someone who is converted "off the street," so to speak?  I have heard of some churches that have a list of things they require a person to learn before they will baptize them.  Tell me, how much do you think the Philippian jailor knew before Paul baptized him "in the same hour of the night?"  If these "lists" are indeed necessary, God must have made the moon stand still.  No, Paul made sure that man knew enough to say, "I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God."
            God expects us to be patient with the newcomers.  Look at this passage:  But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth. Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator (Col 3:8-10).  Did you catch that?  These were people who had already "put off the old self and put on the new self," in other words, Christians.  Yet they were still works in progress.  They may have been saints assembling every Sunday, but some of them were still working on anger, slander, lying, and any number of other things.  You know all those passages about being "longsuffering?"  We want to use that only when people have personality differences.  How about being longsuffering and patient as people learn to leave behind the culture of the world and become part of a brand new culture—the kingdom of God?  You don't become righteous overnight, turning it on and off like a light switch!
            So maybe those converts crack a few eggs to smithereens now and then.  After all, it takes a little finesse to crack eggs.  Instead of expecting chef-quality cooking from the get-go, how about just asking this question:  Are they still making cookies?  Are those cookies getting better and better with each try?  If they are, the finesse will come later.  Be patient, just like the Lord was, and probably still is, patient with you.
 
I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love (Eph 4:1-2).

The recipe for those cookies can be found on the recipe page on the left sidebar.
 
Dene Ward