Today's post is by Robert F, Turner

Alone! Alone! What a stark, bleak, terror-filled word. Solitary confinement is one of man's most dreaded and destructive punishments. Who has not felt the agony of being excluded and left alone? Bold and strong Elijah wilted under its lash and cried out, "It is enough; now, 0 Lord, take away my life; ... I have been very jealous for the Lord God of Hosts ... and I, even I only, am left" (1 King. 19:4,10) No wonder God examined his creation and said, "It is not good that man should be alone" (Gen. 2:18). Nor is it surprising that Jesus gave special attention to his disciples when it was time to leave them. He assured them that they would not be left alone — orphans (Jno. 14:18). "I will pray the Father and he will give you another comforter" — one called to the side — "that he may abide with you forever" (Jno. 14:16).

God provided for man so that he would not have to be alone. First, he put man in the family. To Adam he gave "a help meet for him." — or a helper suitable to his needs. Family was endowed with the strongest and closest human ties — a refuge against being alone. Likewise, God gave the nation to meet man's social needs for "no man lives to himself." Finally the local church was designed to put together men of like faith and hope in God. God knew that in spiritual matters "it is not good that man should be alone." Few — if any — can make it alone. We are members "in particular" but solidly joined to the other members. None stands alone.

By design, the family, nation, and the local church should support and protect a man as he strives to serve God. Often that is not the case. The Lord prepared his disciples for being outcasts from family and society. And churches run by men like Diotrephes "cast out" righteous men. Even so, he is not alone. "At my first answer no man stood with me... notwithstanding the Lord stood with me:" (2 Tim. 4:16). We always have an advocate — a friend by our side.

When "all men forsake" us, we must not allow that to distort our values and perspective. Elijah did. Things were not as black as he painted them. "I only am left." There were seven thousand who had not bowed to Baal. His perspective was warned. "Take my life" shows his values are out of focus. Many decide to go to hell with a crowd rather than stand alone.

Yet there are places we must go alone. No comrade can stand at our side. In the garden, Jesus prayed alone; the disciples were left behind. They could not share his pain or his prayer. He was alone in his sorrow. We also must meet sorrow alone. Our friends encourage; they want to help. They weep with us, but it is ours alone in the last analysis. We say, "There is nothing you can do." Again, duty stands us alone. Brethren exhort but I alone can do my job -- "For every man shall bear his own burden" (Gal. 6:5). And at last consider the final judgement where I stand alone even in so great a crowd. Churches and crowds are not judged here, but "every man ... receiving the things done in his body ... good or bad" (2 Cor. 5:10).
 
Robert F Turner

I still have fond memories of Silas’s first solo visit with us out here in the country.  He was not quite four and stayed three nights alone, no mom and dad to get in the way and spoil the fun!  The first morning we had to assure him that walking outside barefoot was not a capital crime, but once his toes hit the cool green grass, he giggled delightedly.  “I like bare feet!” he instantly proclaimed, and took off running. 
            He was used to being inside all day, playing with his Matchbox cars, putting together puzzles, reading books, and watching his “shows,” educational though they might be.  Yet he found out there were a lot of fun things to do outside, especially when you have five acres to romp around in instead of a postage stamp-sized yard.  That’s all they give you in the city these days. 
            He and Granddad whacked the enemy weeds with green limb “swords.”  They pulled the garden cart up the rise to the carport and rode it down.  They dug roads in the sandy driveway and flew paper airplanes in the yard.  They played in the hose and threw mud balls at one another.  Every night this little guy went to bed far earlier than he usually did at home—it was that or pass out on the couch from exhaustion as we read Bible stories.
            My favorite memory is watching him as we walked Chloe every morning.  He begged for one of my walking sticks and I adjusted it to his height.  Then he ran on ahead, hopping and skipping along, holding granddad’s too-big red baseball cap on his head with one hand so it wouldn’t fall off, the walking stick dangling from the other upraised arm, singing and laughing as he went.  That picture of sheer joy will forever be etched in my memory.  He may have been too little to remember it himself, but someday I will tell him about it, someday when he needs a reminder of joy at a not so joyous time. 
            I remember that time nearly every morning when I walk Chloe, especially when we reach the back fence where Silas’s little feet suddenly took off on the straightaway and his laughter reached its peak.  And I wonder if God has anything etched in His memory, anything from that time in Eden when everything was perfect and his two children felt joy every day in their surroundings, in each other, and in Him.  Surely, the God who knows all has special memories of how it used to be.  Can you read the end of Revelation and not think so? 
            Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever, Revelation 22:1-5.
            Maybe God has recorded that so we, too, can be reminded not of what we have lost, but of what we have waiting for us.  Maybe He put it there for the times when life here is not so joyous, a picture of hope to carry us through.  It may not be etched in our memories—not yet—but the fact that He still remembers it and wants it, means someday we won’t have to count on etchings any longer.  Some day it will all be real once again.

Dene Ward
 

We just spent a week with the grandkids.  When it comes to food, they are just like mine were at that age.  They prefer their oranges out of a can, their macaroni and cheese out of the blue box, their chicken cut into processed squares, and their potatoes long and fried.  Forget the complex and strong flavors of Parmagiana Reggianno, feta, and bleu—they want American cheese, thank you.  And all their sauces must be sweet—about half corn syrup.  True, these two enjoy olives—but they need to be canned and black.  A strong, briny kalamata is summarily thrown across the table.
            Children have immature palates.  For the most part strong flavors are out and bland ones are in.  Sugar, salt and fat make up their favorite seasonings.  And it must be easy to eat.  When you can barely hold a spoon and get the food on it and into your mouth, you prefer things that are solid without being hard and which fit the hand.  We would never give a child a fresh artichoke to eat, with instructions like “Peel off the leaf, dip it into lemon juice and melted butter, put it between your teeth and pull it out of your mouth, scraping the good part off as you pull, then discard the leaf.” 
            One day they will understand the pleasure of different tastes and textures.  Their palates will become educated to appreciate different foods and even different cuisines.  Even the pickiest of childhood eaters usually learn as adults to eat new things, if for no other reason than to be polite or keep harmony in the home.  When a woman spends hours a day cooking, she wants more than a grunt and food being shoved around the plate in an attempt to disguise the fact that very little of it was eaten. 
            But sometimes people become set in their ways.  They decide they don’t like something, even if they have never tried it.  They won’t entertain the possibility that their palates have changed, and so won’t keep trying things as they become older.  When I was a child I hated every kind of cheese, raw onions, and anything that contained a cooked tomato.  Now I eat them all.  Imagine if I had never found that out.  No pizza!
            What about your spiritual nourishment?  Are you still slurping down canned oranges and packaged mac and cheese?  Do you still think instant mashed potatoes are as good as real ones, and Log Cabin as good as real maple syrup?  What if the Bible class teacher taught a book you had never studied before?  Would you learn with relish or complain because you actually had to read it instead of relying on your old canned knowledge?  What if he showed you a different interpretation of a passage than you usually hear?  Would you chew on it a little and really consider it, or just dismiss it out of hand because it wasn’t what you already thought you knew?
            Keith and I have both experienced complaints from people because our classes were “too deep” or “too hard” or “took too much study time.”  Really?  It’s one thing to have an immature palate because you are still a babe.  It’s another to have one because you haven’t grown up in twenty, thirty, forty years of claiming discipleship. 
            The spiritual palate can tell tales on our spiritual maturity in every other area.  Jesus expected his disciples to mature in just a few short years.  “Have I been with you so long and you still do not know me?” he asked Philip (John 14:9).  If we don’t know his word, we don’t know him.  If we don’t know him, we have no clue how to behave as Christians.
            An educated palate for spiritual food is far more important than whether you have learned to like liver yet.  Become an adventurous spiritual eater.  You will find this paradox: though you become hungrier for more, you are always satisfied with your meal.
 
For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, 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. Hebrews 5:12-14.
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

Then he cried in my ears with a loud voice, saying, "Bring near the executioners of the city, each with his destroying weapon in his hand." And behold, six men came from the direction of the upper gate, which faces north, each with his weapon for slaughter in his hand, and with them was a man clothed in linen, with a writing case at his waist. And they went in and stood beside the bronze altar. Now the glory of the God of Israel had gone up from the cherub on which it rested to the threshold of the house. And he called to the man clothed in linen, who had the writing case at his waist. And the LORD said to him, "Pass through the city, through Jerusalem, and put a mark on the foreheads of the men who sigh and groan over all the abominations that are committed in it." And to the others he said in my hearing, "Pass through the city after him, and strike. Your eye shall not spare, and you shall show no pity. Ezek 9:1-5.


            In Ezekiel’s vision did you notice who was marked out to be saved? Those "who sigh and groan" over the sins and wickedness they saw all around them in their society. Everyone else was killed. This implies that there might have been those who did not participate in the sins, but who turned a blind eye to the sin around them, who might even have found it entertaining.  They were not spared either.
            This makes me consider my dedication to righteousness. No, I don't participate in the sins that go on around me, but when I hear about some wild party do I mourn the wickedness or am I leaning in to catch every word, laughing along with others at the stories about the drunks?  Do I turn off the television or am I one of Nielsen’s ratings?  Do I mourn the hedonism around me or do I silently wish I could join Jimmy Buffet in Margaritaville instead of joining my brethren in worship?
            I think too often some of us wish instead of mourn. When we see the rampant sin around us we should, as a holy people, be repelled, not attracted. We should sigh and lament the judgment that is coming for those sinners, not idolize their lifestyles.
            New converts might have problems developing this attitude; it won’t come immediately. But for those of us who have been Christians for 20+ years the concept of being holy like God is holy should be pretty well imprinted on our brains.

"Blessed are they that mourn ...”
 
Lucas Ward

I was a college girl, just a year older than Patricia Hearst, the heiress to the Hearst publishing empire, when a group calling itself the Symbionese Liberation Army kidnapped her from her off-campus apartment in San Francisco.  Two months later, on April 15, 1974, she appeared on grainy black and white security camera footage helping those same captors rob a bank.
            She was eventually captured and sent to prison for awhile because the jury could not accept the psychiatrist’s diagnosis of Stockholm Syndrome, a malady officially named after a bank robber kept hostages in a Stockholm bank vault for 131 hours.  Like Patty Hearst, they emerged from the ordeal exhibiting sympathy for their captors.  The mind does strange things when under stress. 
            Doctors say this happens when the abductors constantly tell the victim there is no hope, that no one knows where he is and no one will rescue him.  They spin lies about their own “mistreatment,” while abusing the victim at the same time.  They tell the victim he is going to die, repeating it not just once, but over and over.  Then for some unaccountable reason they do something nice for that same victim.  The victim grows not only to depend upon his captor, but to identify with him as well.  That is Stockholm syndrome, and anyone who has struggled with sin should recognize the symptoms.
            But I see a different law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity under the law of sin which is in my members, Romans 7:23.
            In meekness correcting them that oppose themselves; if peradventure God may give them repentance unto the knowledge of the truth, and they may recover themselves out of the snare of the devil, having been taken captive by him unto his will, 2 Timothy 2:25-26.
            Sin abducts a man and tells him lies like the one Satan told Eve—“God is just selfish, you won’t die--you’ll be just like him.”  It tells him he’s stupid to listen to anyone else.  It tells him that no one else cares, that no one can save him, and that he will die anyway, so why not die having fun?  Satan, the father of all lies, tells the captive that he is the only one who really cares and the only one who can do anything for him.  Satan is the one who started Stockholm syndrome, not that bank robber in Sweden.
            We tell people over and over that sin is deceptive, that once you are in you may never get out.  Sooner or later you reach a point where you won’t listen to anyone.  …being darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God, because of the ignorance that is in them, because of the hardening of their heart; who being past feeling gave themselves up to lasciviousness, to work all uncleanness with greediness, Ephesians 4:18-19.
            What scares me is this doesn’t have to be heinous sin to work.  People who spend their days gossiping will become impervious to any sermons on the subject.  Satan has told them, “You’re only trying to help,” and they believe him.  People who begin every sentence about a person with, “I’ll never forget when he did [this] to me,” will never heed the lesson about the unforgiving servant who was handed over to the torturers for his lack of mercy.  “That’s different,” Satan tells them, and they believe that too.  Any sin can deceive you.  Any sin can take you captive, even the smallest.
            What can we do?  Never excuse sin in yourself.  Look to Jehovah, the Psalmist says in 25:15, and he will pluck you out of the net—he’ll rescue you from those abductors.  Exhort one another, the Hebrew writer says in 3:13, so that you won’t be so easily deceived.  Prove the spirits, John tells us in 1 John 4:1, and look for the way of escape Paul adds in 1 Cor 10:13. 
            Don’t open the door when Satan knocks.  Don’t let yourself be taken captive.
 
But I see a different law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity under the law of sin which is in my members. Wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me out of the body of this death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord...There is therefore now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus made me free from the law of sin and of death. Romans 7:23-8:2
 
Dene Ward

 [In Luke 13.1–5] Disaster is a call to repentance. Jesus might have added (as he does elsewhere) that peace and tranquility, which we do not deserve, show us God’s goodness and forbearance. It is a mark of our lostness that we invert these two. We think we deserve the times of blessing and prosperity, and that the times of war and disaster are not only unfair but come perilously close to calling into question God’s goodness or his power—even, perhaps, his very existence. Jesus simply did not see it that way. If we are to adopt his mind, we have some fundamental realignments to make in our assessment of ourselves.”


(D.A. Carson, "How Long, O Lord?" [2nd ed.], 61

I have read those headings in the book of Psalms for years—“To the Choirmaster”--but it has only been recently that it dawned on me that in the Old Testament specially trained Levites led, and usually sang, in the Temple worship.  If Romans 15:4 means what it says about learning from the Old Testament, we have the perfect authority for song leaders in our worship services today.  Song leaders—choirmasters.  The entire church, of course, is the choir now, but even non-musicians need a leader.
            My own father was a song leader in the church for nearly as long as he was a Christian.  All that stopped him was his health—he could no longer get enough breath or stand up long enough or wave his arm high enough to continue those last few years.  He had a clear tenor voice in his youth, not the easiest part to sing.  He knew and had led songs from a dozen hymnals.  Not only did he lead in the church, but he sang at funerals and weddings as well.  He always sang.  I do not remember a time when he was outside working on a sick car or a chugging lawn mower or a broken shelf that he was not singing—hymns, mind you, nothing else.
            We moved a few times in my youth, but even when we stayed in one place for a few years, it was not unheard of for a preacher from another congregation to show up on our doorstep asking him to consider changing his membership because they needed a song leader.  And he usually did.  Leading the song service was his bailiwick and he fulfilled it better than any man I have known before or since.  Why?  Because he viewed it as God meant it to be viewed—service to Him.  When he died my mother buried him with a Bible in one arm and a songbook in the other.
            As a music education major in college, I took classes in choral directing.  Guess what I learned?  Hardly anything new—I had learned it already from my daddy.  What I got was a new appreciation for a man who had set about to be the best he could be for his God.  Let me share a few tips with you.  Some of the details come from my choral directing professor, but the concepts I saw every Sunday of my childhood.

            1) If you call yourself a song leader, then be one--lead!  That means a host of things as you will see below.

            2) Your job as a song leader is not to show off how well you can sing by singing the most difficult songs in the book.  It is not your chance to sing your favorite hymns. Your job in the church is to enable the group to worship God in song, according to their ability.

            3) That means you need to know your group.  If you have an untrained group, few among them who know anything about music, don’t lead songs that a professional choir should be singing.  Don’t specialize in songs that require a roadmap and a compass to figure out what to sing when.  Don’t major in modes and polyrhythm.  If you do use some of these songs, then be realistic.  Untrained ears will never manage the blue notes in “Sing and Be Happy.”  Don’t be arrogant about it, as if all these ignorant people are beneath you.  A lot of them can probably do things you can’t do.
            If you have a predominantly older group, lay off the syncopated music.  They simply don’t get it.  Anyone listening on the side will think they are hiccupping as one manages it here and there, but 90% sing it straight.
            Another thing about older groups—they do not have the breath capacity of younger people.  Don’t sing songs so fast they have no time to catch a breath.  They may all pass out on you, but more than that, they simply won’t be able to worship God, which is what you are supposed to be helping them do, not hindering them.  Good leaders do not insist on what they want to do.  They do what is best for the group they are leading, whether it is what they want to do or not.

            4) Remember—this is not about you.  If you are a bass, resist the temptation to sing only low songs or to pitch them lower.  If you are a tenor, try not to pitch them too high.  Either way, you will completely fail in your mission—enabling the whole group to sing, not just you.  In fact, it is entirely possible to injure voices by having them sing a poorly pitched song.  If you cannot sing a song where it is written, then you probably ought not to be a song leader.

            5) And if you claim to be a leader you must of necessity do three things:  stand where you can be seen, beat a clear pattern, and sing loudly enough to be heard.
            If you use a pattern, people need to see it in order to stay with it.  For those who do not understand the beat, or if you do not beat a pattern, they must be able to see your mouth.  That also means you shouldn’t be asking people to stand very often, particularly if you have a lot of elderly folks.  Yes, they have the option of staying seated, but guess what they see when everyone else is standing?  A row of backs—you will be hidden behind them.  How can they possibly follow you?
            As to the pattern, don’t get too elaborate.  The point where the beat actually occurs (the ictus) must be obvious, and at the bottom of the pattern, not at the top.  If you draw so many curlicues in the air that no one knows where the 1, 2 and 3 are, don’t get upset if they lag behind—it’s your fault.  
            And they do need to hear you.  If you can’t sing loud enough, stand in front of a microphone.  Don’t get “humble” and think it makes you a better servant of God not to be heard.  Leaders of necessity need to be heard—any kind of leader.  If all you do is start the song, you may as well sit in the pew.  (And if you are in the congregation, then monitor your own voice and do not try to out-sing the leader.  There is more than one way to usurp authority!) 

            6) This is worship to God, remember?  That means you should give some thought to your selections.  Would you ever walk into a Bible class, sit on the front row, scribble down a few passages and expect to teach a good lesson?  Your song service should do one of two things—either complement the sermon of the day, or teach its own lesson.  Some preachers like the songs to match their sermons; some don’t.  If he does, call him and find out what the lesson is about.  If the latter, then choose a topic yourself, or maybe a line of thought, and choose songs that teach about that topic or lead the singers in a logical progression of thought that will edify them.  Both of those take preparation.

            I could probably go on.  Just reminiscing about things I heard my daddy say over and over has already made this a bit long, though.  Here is the key--this is about your service to God.  If you remember that, you cannot help but be the best song leader you can be.
           
I will tell of your name to my brothers; in the midst of the congregation I will sing your praise, Heb 2:12.
 
Dene Ward

When we describe our camping trips, people sigh and say things like, “That sounds heavenly.” 
            We cook over an open fire, the meat caramelized by the flames and flavored by the smoke.  At night we sit by a pile of crackling logs under a black sky of twinkling diamond stars and sip hot chocolate.  In the mornings we cuddle by a fire pulled together from the coals of the night before, and gaze on a view that ought to cost extra—mountain after mountain after green rolling mountain against a blue sky, or wrapped with frothy clouds like lacy boas, or peeking through a fine mist, or shining in the sun, covered with trees sporting all the fall colors along with a few dark evergreens.  We hike through wilderness forests unsullied by human rubbish, watching birds we seldom see flit from limb to limb, coons or deer or bears trundling off in the distance or standing stock still in shock staring at us, tiny rills splashing over rocks into larger brooks running to yet larger creeks and finally to the rivers in the valleys below.  We visit orchards and buy apples straight from the tree, not prettied up for the store, sporting a real blemish here and there, but full of flavor, juicy with a perfect texture.  That evening we peel and slice a skillet full, add butter, sugar and cinnamon, set them on a low flame on the propane camp stove and twenty minutes later eat the best dessert you ever had.
            Then we trot out the other side of camping to our friends:  a day long misty rain that, even inside the screen set up over the table, seeps into your clothes and leaves you shivering; carrying a loaded tote to the bathhouse a few hundred yards up or down a steep hill every time you want to brush your teeth or take a shower; stepping outside the tent in the morning to a thermometer that reads 27 degrees. 
            “I could never do that!” one says.  “I’d be headed for the first Holiday Inn!” another proclaims.  Unfortunately, you don’t get the good part without the bad part.  The good parts often happen after the day-trippers head for the hotel.  Their food doesn’t come close and they pay a whole lot more for it at a restaurant than we did at the grocery store the week before we left.  They see the view once, just for a few minutes before being jostled out of the way by the next person standing behind them at the overlook.  And most hotels would frown on a campfire in their rooms.
            Keith and I are snobs about our camping.  When we camp, we live outdoors.  We don’t hide when the weather turns cold, or even wet—we can’t in a tent.  So we just wrap up and tough it out.  Oh, so superior are we.  But we have our limits too.  You will never find us at a primitive campsite.  You certainly won’t find us at a pioneer campsite.  We want our water spigot and electricity.  How do you think we handle those nights in the 20s?  We handle them with a long outdoor extension cord snaking its way inside the tent zipper to an electric blanket stuffed in the double sleeping bag and a small $15 space heater that, amazingly, raises the tent temperature 20-30 degrees inside.
            So where am I when it comes to Christianity?  Am I sold on the health and wealth gospel?  As long as good things happen to me, I am perfectly willing to believe in God and be faithful to Him.  Do I recognize the need for a little bit of trouble to prove my faith, but NOT full scale persecution or trial?  Have I come through some tough tests and now think so well of myself that I can scream to God, “Enough!” as if I had the right to lay out the terms for my faithfulness?
            The rich young ruler thought he was pretty good.  He had kept the commandments.  But Jesus knew where this fellow drew the line—his wealth.  So that is precisely where Jesus led him. 
            Do we have a line we won’t cross?  Is it possessions, security, health, family stability, friendships, comfort?  Whatever it is, the Lord will make sure you come against that line some day in your life.  You may think you are fine—why I can stay in my tent when it’s 25 degrees out!  What if the thermometer hit zero?  What if it rained, not just one day, but every day?  What if I had no running water, no hot showers, no electric blanket?  Would I pack up and head for the hotel?  Or would I tough it out, knowing the reward was far greater than even the most torturous pain imaginable in this life?
            You can’t run to the hotel and hide when persecution strikes.  You can’t close the RV door and count on riding out the storms of life.  Sometimes God expects you to stay in the tent in the most primitive campsite available.  Sometimes he even takes away the tent.  But you will still have the best refuge anyone could hope for if you make use of it, and when the trial is over, you get to enjoy the good parts that everyone else missed.
 
And another also said, I will follow you, 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 9:61,62.
 
Dene  Ward

Some reviewers ask, "Why would you want to read a book about doubt?"  I ask, why wouldn't you want to read such a book since we all have moments of doubt and feel guilty about it?  When you finish this book you will understand that you are not alone and that doubt is not unbelief at all.  Instead, it can lead to unbelief if it is not handled correctly, and what Christian would not want the remedy?
            In this book, Guinness will describe several kinds of doubt.  He is so good at this that you will instantly see one or more of the doubts that afflict you.  In each case he tells us where the doubt comes from and a Biblical way to overcome it.  More than once I experienced a "Well, duh…" moment.  The remedy may also come from realizing exactly what it is we doubt—God's power or God's compassion, for example, not necessarily God Himself.  We may actually be judging God in our moments of doubt.  In all of these, we see ourselves and recognize the path to a surer faith almost as soon as it is defined.  An axiom develops as well—feed your faith, not your doubt and you would be surprised how often we do just the opposite.
            The Kindle version of God in the Dark that I read was published by Crossway Books.
 
Dene Ward

Oh, so many years ago we moved up to the frozen tundra.  At least that’s what north central Illinois felt like to this Florida native.  Keith worked with a small church there and I experienced blizzards, snowmen, and sledding for the first time in my life.  I also experienced a grudge-holder to end all grudge-holders. 
            An older fellow, a corn and soybean farmer, invited us to visit and before we had time to warm the seats of the chairs in his white two story farmhouse, he proceeded to give us some “important information.”  Another family in the church, he proclaimed, was not the faithful, unselfish, godly family they claimed to be.  Then one by one he listed all the “wrongs” they had done him, most of which amounted to being more prosperous than he.  They surely must have sinned to get that way!
            Keith was older and more experienced than I.  He saw through the “helpful” manner this man had adopted, and before his list was complete, Keith had asked a few probing questions that left him flummoxed.  Somehow this was not going the way he expected it would.  When we left that day, he had not accomplished his mission at all, which is entirely as it should have been.  When someone comes running to pour garbage on you, step aside as quickly as possible.  The truth will out, and before long the fruits we saw in both families made apparent who was and was not “faithful.”
            If I had just finished the faith study I had written back then, it would have been obvious to even me.  After all that research, the huge lists of passages I had, and the categories I eventually sorted them into, I found several mentioning circumstances that require “extra” faith to handle.  One of them made me laugh out loud at first, then it made me sit back and say, “Well, of course.”
            In Luke 17, Peter, somewhat proudly, asked the Lord if forgiving someone seven times wasn’t a “gracious” plenty.  No, Jesus tells him.  Not seven times, but seventy times seven.  I am positive Peter got the point—there should be no end to forgiving others; there must be no “last straw”--because he immediately exclaimed, “Lord!  Increase our faith!”  He understood that a failure to forgive is a sign of weak faith.
            I have puzzled over how those two things are connected for quite awhile now.  Finally I see two possibilities. 
            First, God says He will avenge me; I don’t have to worry about doing it myself.  Not to believe that is to question the love and care God has for me, a love He demonstrated in no uncertain terms when He gave His only begotten Son.  Of course He will avenge me.  If I don’t believe that, I may as well not believe the incarnation of the Lord.
            And then this:  do I believe that God will forgive me an infinite number of times?  I am supposed to be His child, striving to become like Him.  If I can’t forgive, then maybe I don’t believe He forgives, and if He doesn’t forgive, then my whole belief system is flawed.  Why do I bother?
            Our American culture tends to laud as strong those who fight back, take revenge, and hold grudges.  “That’s going too far,” and, “I just won’t take that,” has been uttered in countless movies by “the strong, silent type.”  And what do we all do?  We applaud the man who finally refuses to turn the other cheek.  We admire the man who fights back.  We approve the man who chooses not to forget the sins against him—the one who says, “I’ll never be hurt again.” 
            What if God said those things about us?  Aren’t you shivering in your boots to realize where you would be if God hadn’t said instead, “Your sins I will remember no more,” and “Though your sins be as scarlet they shall be as white as snow?”  Aren’t you thrilled beyond measure to read the inspired words of John, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness?” (Jer 31:34; Isa 1: 18; 1 John 1:9) 
            Do you ever find yourself wanting to tell everyone about the people you think have mistreated you?  You and that old Illinois farmer are standing in the same shoes.  Take off those shoes for you are standing on the Holy Ground of a God who loves and forgives to an infinite measure.  If you want to stand with Him, you must forgive in the same way.
            “Lord, increase our faith.”
 
Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord." Romans 12:19.
 
Dene Ward