I just spent twenty minutes trying to get 84 acid reducing pills out of six blister packs so I wouldn’t have to do it every morning for the next 7 weeks.  Twenty minutes! 
          What is it with these manufacturers?  You would think they would want you to try their medication, not give up in frustration, throw the whole thing away, and use another.  Or maybe it’s meant to be self-perpetuating:  the more aggravated you get, the more acid your stomach produces, and the more you need their pills.
            I have an issue with childproof caps too—about the only ones they keep out of the bottle are those of us with arthritic hands.  And CD and DVD packages?  How many times have I cut myself on them and, with this aspirin-a-day regimen, bled all over everything before I even knew I had done it?
            Manufacturers who don’t want you to use their product—sounds strange doesn’t it?  What about that branch of theology that says that God doesn’t want to save everyone, that Jesus died only for the ones He does want to save, and that no matter what you do or how you feel about it, there is nothing you can do to change that?  Let me show you why I have a problem with that.
            Say to them, As I live, declares the Lord GOD, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live; turn back, turn back from your evil ways, for why will you die, O house of Israel? Ezekiel 33:11
            This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth, 1 Timothy 2:3-4.
            For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, Titus 2:11
            The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance, 2 Peter 3:9.
            God does want us to be saved, as many as are willing to live by his Word.  Jesus died for all, not just those lucky few.  You can make a difference in your own salvation, “turn back from your evil ways,” “come to a knowledge of the truth,” and “reach repentance.”
            Praise God that He loves us and wants us with Him for Eternity.  Praise God that salvation does not come in a blister pack.
 
For the love of Christ controls us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore all have died; and he died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised, 2 Corinthians 5:14-15).
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Joanne Beckley.

When we wake up each morning, what are our first thoughts when we look in the mirror?  Euw! Look what the cat dragged in. . . or . . . Well! Maybe there’s hope for you. . .
 
Why do I ask this? For a while now everywhere we turn we have been hearing or reading about self-image. It is considered if we are successful we have a good self-image. If we have a bad self-image everyone automatically believes this is the cause of our unhappiness and failure.  Obviously, this being the case, a lot of people are concerned about their self-image.
 
Should we be concerned about our self-image? Yes, because how we view ourselves will influence every area of our lives, including how we relate to others and how we deal with personal inner conflicts. Our feelings of inferiority (or over-blown pride) or a healthy self-respect will dictate our words and our actions–and therefore how others view us.
 
We hear the doctors tell us that if we feel inferior, lowly, substandard, then it is because (1) our parents have played out a heavy hand, and (2) we were obviously rejected and abused, even though we may not remember the occasion(s). But this is the reasoning of man. God has given us a different path of reason. "If you abide in My word, you are My disciples indeed. And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free", John 8:31,23.
 
TRUTH frees us. Frees us from what? The slavery of Sin, Romans 6:18. When we accept that Jesus’ blood will free us, including our feelings of inferiority, we can see ourselves in a different kind of mirror, a truthful mirror. James 1:25 “But he who looks into the perfect law of liberty and continues in it, and is not a forgetful hearer but a doer of the work, this one will be blessed in what he does.” Yes, this mirror will help us tear down and build anew.
 
Perhaps we are struggling with frustration, even anger concerning what we see in ourselves. We might be having thoughts such as: Does God understand who I really am? Yes, I have been buried in the waters of baptism, but I am so very sinful. There is basically no hope of any real freedom. We might not verbalize these deeply hidden thoughts, but we might be living them. Let us go back to Romans 6:18: “And having been set free from sin, you became slaves of righteousness.” Therein is the rub. Putting off the old man of sin is not a stopping place, but rather through major efforts we are to follow God’s instructions of putting on Christ, correcting and training our vision to see God’s mirror in its true image and go on to accomplish every good work, 2 Timothy 3:16-17.
 
The real question is, do I believe Jesus can help me correct my bad vision? When we come to Him and desire to be set free, we must accept where we are coming from, what we have inherited. Each of us entered this world without choice in several areas. Life itself, our physical appearance, who our parents are, and the society that had its part in teaching us– they all play their part in who we are. God also gave us natural abilities and intelligence. If we reject any of these gifts, we will not be able to see our real selves. They are a part of who we are. An African man described it thus: “If we remove the sticks from the kraal (cattle enclosure), we destroy ourselves.” Loss of cattle is serious stuff for this identifies how this man views himself and how he respects his ancestors. Obviously, we are not to worship our ancestors, but we too must not try to remove our heritage. Let us build on and improve the gifts God has given us.
 
Deuteronomy 32:46-47 "Set your hearts on all the words which I testify among you today, which you shall command your children to be careful to observe-all the words of this law. For it is not a futile thing for you, because it is your life.”
 
What bends our view of God’s mirror? Sin. A lack of faith. It is like there are two mirrors. Yours and God’s. When we are baptized, if we are not careful, we will try to retain our old mirror that should have been destroyed by faith in God’s power to change us. Instead, we drag out the old mirror, thinking we are looking at God’s mirror. Why is it so difficult to change? Because we want our comfort zone. We have adopted this image of feeling worthless and have invested many years in tearing ourselves down. Throughout the years we have compared ourselves to others and been found wanting. We have set unrealistic goals instead of working toward a useful destination. We continue to moan and excuse ourselves over a past that cannot be changed.
 
How do we change our attitude toward our lives? We must do just as the alcoholic must do–one day at a time, facing our addiction, learning truth about ourselves, our Lord and our God. Let us admit our failure to trust God, asking Him for forgiveness, never doubting. When we find ourselves whining in self-pity, we must stop, and verbally admit what we have just done. We can learn to be thankful, voicing our thanksgiving not only in prayer, but in our words and actions. Let us reach out to serve God and one another, even our enemies. By
DOING good works, we CHANGE our negative attitude to one of positive joy.
 
1John 5:3-5 For this is the love of God, that we keep His commandments. And His commandments are not burdensome. For whatever is born of God overcomes the world. And this is the victory that has overcome the world--our faith. Who is he who overcomes the world, but he who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?
 
My sister, Glenda Schales, has written a song taken from Isaiah 60 that you have probably sung yourself. I pray, may you “arise and shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you...Lift up your eyes round about and see...and be radiant and your heart will thrill and rejoice...because He has glorified you...and you will know that I, the Lord, am your Savior and your redeemer, the Mighty One of Israel...You will have the Lord for an everlasting light, and your God for your glory.”

Joanne Beckley

     From what I remember about my parents' conversations, I lived in three places as an infant and toddler.  Then, due to Daddy's job, we lived in three more the next 12 years, all of which I remember, especially the last one, the home I left to be married.  But my parents moved after my first year of marriage, again due to Daddy's work, and I never had a "home" to go home to.
     Things were not much different after we married, at least not at first.  Our first home was a 10 x 50 trailer we bought used from another "preaching couple" at Florida College after that student got his four year certificate (it was a pre-degree FC) and moved on to his first fulltime preaching job.  It was tiny and either hot or cold, depending upon the weather.  One summer we turned off the AC while we were away for a weekend and came home to find our table candles, slumped over on the table, melted but still shaped like candles that had simply fallen asleep.  The particle board countertop had begun to swell around the kitchen sink, bits of the top layer of Formica flaking off to expose the damp particle board, and one morning I woke to mushrooms growing around the tap.  Keith replaced that countertop before we left, selling the trailer to yet another FC "preacher student."
     Our second home was a church house, a small shoebox of a house a couple of blocks from the meetinghouse in north central Illinois.  I saw snow for the first time and learned how to drive on ice pack to buy groceries.  Though the house was small, the third bedroom barely larger than a walk-in closet, the pantry was huge and one I have often wished to have again.  It also held the washer and dryer and water softener, but the shelves that went from waist to ceiling high on three walls were exactly what I later wished for when I had a growing family.  I also had my first experience with mice, surrounded as we were by cornfields.  But the backyard looked onto a drive-in theater, the screen of which faced our back door.  If we had had a speaker we could have seen a free movie every night.
     Our first child was born there and was only 11 weeks old when we moved to our third home, a nice brick house in the piedmont of South Carolina, only an hour from the Blue Ridge Parkway.  Keith had to buy it while I was back home with a newborn and so he did not see a few things that might have had me hesitating.  The kitchen was a long walk through the family room around a poorly placed wall (you wonder what some architects are thinking) to the dining area, and there was a huge, ugly ink spot on hallway carpet, a wall to wall so it could not easily be replaced.  We couldn't afford to do anything with the house so we just made do, and our second child was born there.  We have pictures of them both in the snow which is the only way they know it.
     Our next move came three years later to another church home, this one a brand new double wide next to the church and behind a cemetery in North Florida.  Brand new doublewides look pretty amazing until you have to do your first repair and discover that nothing is square and nothing standard will fit--you have to go to a Mobile Home Supply instead.  We had an "open house" one Sunday night after services because the church members had never seen this place and we thought it only fair that they got a look.  I kept snacks coming on the table, and the coffee pot burbling as they trooped through, all 100+ of them.
     The next move was only about forty miles northeast from there, still in North Florida which we came to realize was not like anywhere else in Florida—we actually had some winter.  We had moved so quickly that the only place we could find at first was a filthy old frame house in poor repair.  But it had a living room large enough for my studio grand piano and was the only place that did.  The church ladies helped us clean, one of them so grossed out that she took regular visits to a trash can to throw up.  The men made a moving caravan and we were moved in one day.  We had neither running water nor heat for the first week, which was also the first week of January.  I remember all of us sitting over breakfast with coats and hats on, our "breath fog" clouding the table.  Even with normal utilities, things were precarious.  Finally, after the transformer went bad and ruined our electric skillet, washer, vacuum cleaner, and television, we decided we needed better housing. 
     The only thing we could afford was another doublewide, and one of the men in the church allowed us to live on a piece of his property "for improvements" rather than rent, which included us paying for a well and septic tank, and tearing down and hauling off an old rundown frame house bit by bit. Four years later we moved our home across the county to the five acres we lived on for the next thirty-eight years.  That piece of land took our literal blood, sweat, and tears.  We had adventures and misadventures, fun times and harrowing times, most of which my longtime readers have read about.  We learned things we had never even suspected that we needed to know, and sometimes I am amazed that we lived through it all.  That was the closest thing we had to a "home." 
     Then we got old.  Keith could no longer work the property like he had before.  Work that had taken a Saturday in the early years, now took three days, and we no longer had live-in help—they grew up and left us!  We lived 40-45 minutes from town, depending upon where we had to go—which included all the doctors and church--and the trip itself was becoming tiring.  Neither of us see well at night and I can no longer drive at all.  Then my brilliant eye doctor retired and left me with one I am sure was smart, but was in his early thirties and inexperienced with someone like me.  Our time here below is becoming short and we needed to be near someone who could watch out for us, and I needed another world class doctor.  So now we are here in Tampa, Temple Terrace to be exact, in what we hope will be our last house—a real house, something I never even thought I would ever have again.
     So how do I feel about It?  When I look at old pictures of the place up north, especially when I see my boys playing on the tree swing, playing baseball in the field, climbing trees or standing at the "fort"—a group of huge old live oaks that made almost a complete room between their trunks—or see my grandsons in similar pictures with a grin on their faces as they discover what it might be like to live in the country, I get a pang deep in my heart.  But my better sense tells me that this is for the best and I still have memories to cherish.  After all, God told Abraham and Sarah to leave a home they had lived in for over twenty years longer than I lived up there.  It had to be hard—at least I knew where I was going while they did not.
     But they understood where their real home was.  These all died in faith without having received the promises, but they saw them from a distance, greeted them, and confessed that they were foreigners and temporary residents on the earth. Now those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they were thinking about where they came from, they would have had an opportunity to return. But they now desire a better place — a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them (Heb 11:13-16).
    We must all be careful not to become too attached to this world.  Thinking of any place here as "home" can lead to temptations we can hardly bear.  Peter reminds us, And if you call on him as Father, who without respect of persons judges according to each man's work, pass the time of your sojourning in fear (1Pet 1:17).  Jacob called his life "a pilgrimage" (Gen 47:9), and Paul tells us our citizenship is in Heaven (Phil 3:20).  Don't get too attached, they all seem to be saying.
     "This world is not my home," we like to sing.  Are we telling the truth?
 
Hear my prayer, LORD, and listen to my cry for help; do not be silent at my tears. For I am a foreigner residing with You, a temporary resident like all my fathers. Turn Your angry gaze from me so that I may be cheered up before I die and am gone (Ps 39:12-13).

Pearl Reid Skirvin was born on October 12, 1889.  The daughter of an Oklahoma City real estate tycoon, she never knew anything but high society.  She married George Mesta, a Pittsburgh machine tool magnate, and was widowed after only 8 years.  She never remarried, never had children, and became heir to both her father’s and husband’s fortunes.  Somewhere along the way she changed the spelling of her first name and became Perle Mesta, an influential hostess and political fundraiser in Washington DC.  And somewhere else along the way, she was labeled “the hostess with the mostes’.”  As a young child I had heard of her myself, but her glamorous parties were things far beyond my family’s imagination, much less actual attendance.
            I remember my first attempts to be a hostess.  I had watched my mother feed guests for 20 years.  She seemed to do it effortlessly, not that she didn’t work at it, but it never seemed to stress her out.  Me?  I was always worried that my recipes wouldn’t turn out, that I had chosen something no one liked, and that the house wasn’t clean enough. 
            For several years I kept a file with an index card for each family we had invited for a meal.  I listed the dates they came, what I had served, and at the top a list of things I knew were disliked.  Roger Pink hated liver, I remember—not that I would ever serve specially invited guests liver, but you can see how concerned I was with being a good hostess.  These days you get pot luck, and I don’t worry so much any more.
            Being a good host or hostess had almost sacred connotations in the scriptures.  Inns were few and far between.  Everyone depended upon the people they encountered in their travels to put them up, and those people knew they would someday have similar need, so they readily offered the hospitality.  You cannot read Genesis without seeing the importance of hospitality—a host laid down his life for his guests.
            So the metaphor in Proverbs 9 was an apt one for the times.  Two hostesses seeking guests, one named Wisdom and the other Folly.  A quick reading will only obscure some of the finer points.  This is too short a venue to touch them all, so sit down some time with a pen and paper and make two columns.  Go through the verses yourself and find the contrasts between the hostesses, their offers, and the guests who take advantage of the proffered hospitality.  Then figure out which side you are on. 
            But three quick points: Wisdom offers a great feast--she has slaughtered her beasts; she has mixed her wine, v 2.  Folly offers only bread and water, v 17, but notice how enticing she makes it sound:  Stolen water is sweet and bread eaten in secret is pleasant.  Not only is her meal scanty, it’s forbidden.  If the only reason I want to do something is because someone else told me not to, the proverb writer says I “lack sense,” v16, as do all of Folly’s guests.
            Wisdom offers her feast to all, but specifically to “those who lack understanding” and are wise enough to realize their need.  Folly offers hers to those who are “going straight on their way,” v 15.  They already think they know what they need to know.  They may indeed be simpleminded, v 16, but they don’t realize it.  Going to someone to ask for advice is beneath them, unless of course it’s someone who will tell them what they want to hear. 
            Wisdom tells her guests that they must break off from bad company, v 7-8.  Folly, on the other hand, loads her guest list with the worst company of all, and bids the fool to come join them, but he does not know that the dead are there, that her guests are in the depths of Sheol, v 18.
            You won’t find a more chilling metaphor, but if you insist on ignoring good advice, trusting in those who scorn the word of God, and whooping it up with the Devil, you will find yourself exactly where Folly holds her parties, consorting with the spiritually dead, and killing your own soul in the process.
 
Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted, while evil people and impostors will go on from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived, 2 Timothy 3:12-13.
 
Dene Ward

You’d think that I could remember who said that to us one evening while we sat studying the Bible in his home.  You’d think I could remember where he drew the line that kept him from serving the Lord.  It isn’t often you find someone that honest.  Most people offer excuses instead.  They understand that they are telling God they are not willing to sacrifice for him.  In fact, they will usually make a list of everything they have done before adding, “But that’s just asking too much.”  What they fail to see is that if they are willing to give it up, it isn’t a sacrifice.  The sacrifice comes when you don’t want to give it up; the sacrifice comes when it hurts. Serving God is not supposed to be “painless.” 
            Too many of us believe that just because we got up, dressed up, and drove to another location instead of sitting there having "television church" that we are sacrificing for the Lord.  We will sit in the meetinghouse on Sunday morning.  We will even sit for the full two or three hours, whatever our group has chosen.  Just exactly what have we given up?  Sleep?  Another day of fishing?  A little more yard work?  Doesn’t sound like much of a sacrifice.
            Many will alter their lifestyles a bit.  What have they given up?  Hangovers?  Gambling debts?  STDs?  If you aren’t stupid, that’s another easy sacrifice to make.  It only becomes difficult when the dependency has developed.
            What we steadfastly refuse to give up is ourselves. 
            Can we admit wrong?  Can we yield to others?  Can we toe the line, even when the thing in question affects us individually?  It’s much easier for the non-music lover to give up instrumental music in the worship.  Trust me.  I know.  It’s much easier to abide by the Lord’s words concerning marriage when you have a solid relationship, and when your children have also chosen well.  It’s much easier to serve when you actually like the people you are serving.  Yet ease is the very thing that makes it not much of a sacrifice.  The true sacrifice comes when, instead of twisting scriptures to suit ourselves and frantically searching for loopholes, we do what hurts.
            The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise, Psalm 51:17.  Pain is what makes a sacrifice sincere.  Humble repentance that involves giving up selfish desires and yielding to others who do not deserve it are the most difficult sacrifices to give, and therefore, the ones that God wants most to see in us.  Until we manage that, anything else we do in service to God is a sham, no matter how beautifully we sing, how generously we donate, or how knowledgeably we teach.
            When Jeroboam became king of the northern 10 tribes of Israel, in spite of God’s promise to him of a lasting dynasty if he only obeyed, he looked at those fickle people and said, “I know exactly how to keep them here.”  He made it easy to serve God.
            And Jeroboam said in his heart, Now will the kingdom return to the house of David: if this people go up to offer sacrifices in the house of Jehovah at Jerusalem, then will the heart of this people turn again unto their lord, even unto Rehoboam king of Judah; and they will kill me, and return to Rehoboam king of Judah. Whereupon the king took counsel, and made two calves of gold; and he said unto them, It is too much for you to go up to Jerusalem: behold your gods, O Israel, which brought you up out of the land of Egypt. 1 Kings 12:26-28.
            “It’s asking too much,” he told them.  “Let me make it easy for you.”  And just like that, the people in the north left the God who had delivered them from slavery, defeated their enemies, and provided all their needs. 
            What is it that Jeroboam would offer you?
 
But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ, Philippians 3:7-8.
 
Dene Ward

            I apologize for that, but I just don’t know what else to call this.  Chloe has a cold.  I never knew a dog could get a cold.  It has been typical of a human cold.  She felt miserable for two or three days, and then she started coming out of it, once again running to greet us when we step outdoors, and racing the couple hundred yards to the gate to meet us when we come home.  And, just like a human cold, the runny nose lingers on.  She never coughed or that would have lingered too, just as Keith’s has for over three months now.
            But this nose thing is almost intolerable.  Let me put it like this:  when a dog blows its nose, you had better stand way back. 
            She comes out every morning trying to clean out her pipes, clearing her throat and spitting, blowing her nose and sneezing--just like her master, except he knows to use a handkerchief.  Chloe on the other hand looks just plain disgusting. 
            I am sure you remember how it was when your toddler had a cold and you couldn’t follow him around all day wiping his nose.  You really did have diapers to wash, and meals to fix, and floors to mop, and on and on, a never ending list.   Suddenly he would come running to share with you a tot-sized marvel, and you would look up and, even if you didn’t say it, you would think, “Gross!” and grab a Kleenex to wipe up what was, um, hanging.  Well, with a dog, multiply that several times--and add a few inches. 
            And just like a child, Chloe most certainly does not appreciate it when you wipe her nose.  She has learned to recognize the restroom variety brown paper towels that hang on the carport, and runs when she sees one in Keith’s hand.  As much as I hate to do it to her, when she flees to me for help, I grab her collar and hold her still so he can indeed, clean up that repulsive little schnozzle.  I found out the hard way what happens if you don’t.  Not only will she sneeze on you, but she will then wipe that nose all by herself--on your hem, or your shirtsleeve, or your jeans, or whatever else she can reach, mixed in with whatever dust or dirt she has lain in.  It is repulsive and the only way it comes off is in the washing machine.
            Are you thoroughly grossed out now?  What do you think when you see a friend with a bad case of sin?  Do you act like it isn’t there?  Are you afraid of losing him to correction?  Do you sympathize with him if anyone does care enough to try to help, joining in your friend’s criticism of their methods, their words, even their motivation—as if you could read minds?  Do you just go along like nothing has happened, like it won’t make any difference to them or you or anyone else?
            Sin is disgusting, especially in someone who claims to live a life of purity.  It will keep him from eternal life just as surely as a nose full of snot will keep a child from breathing well.  It will drip all over him in one disgusting glob and affect the lives of others who see him.  And if you stay too close, it will get on you too.  How can it not?
            Think about that special friend right now.  Everyone has one—someone you love who has lost his way.  Are you going to allow your friend to continue in this revolting situation, or do you love him enough to grab a spiritual paper towel and wipe his nose?
 
But you, beloved, building yourselves up in your most holy faith and praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in the love of God, waiting for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life. And have mercy on those who doubt; save others by snatching them out of the fire; to others show mercy with fear, hating even the garment stained by the flesh, Jude 1:20-23.
 
Dene Ward

"So the two chief characteristics of the false teachers [in Galatia] are that they were troubling the church and changing the gospel. These two go together. To tamper with the gospel is always to trouble the church. You cannot touch the gospel and leave the church untouched, because the church is created and lives by the gospel. Indeed, the church’s greatest troublemakers (now as then) are not those outside who oppose, ridicule and persecute it, but those inside who try to change the gospel. It is they who trouble the church. Conversely, the only way to be a good churchman is to be a good gospel-man. The best way to serve the church is to believe and preach the gospel…Of course we live in an age in which it is considered very narrow-minded and intolerant to have any clear and strong opinions of one’s own, let alone to disagree sharply with anybody else. As for actually desiring false teachers to fall under the curse of God and be treated as such by the church, the very idea is to many inconceivable. But I venture to say that if we cared more for the glory of Christ and for the good of the souls of men, we too would not be able to bear the corruption of the gospel of grace."       J.R.W/ Stott, The Message of Galatians

I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting him who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel—not that there is another one, but there are some who trouble you and want to distort the gospel of Christ.  But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed.  As we have said before, so now I say again: If anyone is preaching to you a gospel contrary to the one you received, let him be accursed.Gal1: 6-9

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

One of my personal rules of exegesis is that if something is repeated in multiple accounts of an event or if the same concept is repeated several times, then it must be more important than usual. For example, the Gospels record Jesus healing on the Sabbath at least 5 different times. The Holy Spirit was probably trying to emphasize something there. Or if multiple Gospels record the same event and one phrase is repeated word for word in each account, there is probably a point of emphasis there.

Matthew, Mark, and Luke all mention the same thing when telling of Judas coming to the garden to betray Jesus into the hands of the priests, et al, who wanted to kill Him. They all say that he was "one of the twelve." What is the emphasis? The level of betrayal. We've all heard the story so many times that some of the emotional impact may be lost. But Judas was one of the twelve. This wasn't the betrayal of an outlying disciple, one of those few hundred who were around much of the time, this was one of the twelve. This was a man who had been selected from among those disciples and exalted to a higher position. This was one who had been given the power to heal and cast out demons. This was one who was always with Him. When Jesus fled the crowds to have a period of peace, He took Judas along. When He went into Phoenicia and Caesarea Phillipi, He took Judas along. Judas was there, privy to the most private aspects of Jesus' life. Judas had access that few others could imagine. Judas betrayed Him. 

Am I any better? 
Heb 10:26-29 For if we sin willfully after that we have received the knowledge of the truth, there remains no more a sacrifice for sins, but a certain fearful expectation of judgment, and a fierceness of fire which shall devour the adversaries. A man that has set at nought Moses law dies without compassion on the word of two or three witnesses: of how much sorer punishment, do you think, shall he be judged worthy, who has trodden under foot the Son of God, and has counted the blood of the covenant wherewith he was sanctified an unholy thing, and has done despite unto the Spirit of grace? 

I have access to God that the faithful who lived prior to Christ would be astonished at (Heb 10:19-22), yet all too often I decide that I'm going to do what I want to do rather than living for my Lord (who died for me). When I do that, I count His blood as an unholy thing, something common and not worth any effort. I trample Him, to get to my desires. 

Am I any better than Judas?

Are you?
 
Lucas Ward

Along time ago we lived near a man who raised a little livestock.  He had a sow down the fence line from us, and one summer morning we woke to find piglets rooting their way through our yard, trying to find mama. Mama was too big to get under the pen, but the babies weren’t.  After that we kept tabs on those piglets, and the boys, who were about 6 and 4, loved going to see them.  Baby animals, as a general rule, are cute—even pigs.
            One evening I stuck my head out the door and hollered extra loudly, “Dinner!” because I knew that’s where they were.  Keith said they started back immediately, Nathan on his shoulders, and Lucas walking along side.  About halfway back he swapped boys, and told Nathan to run on ahead and wash his hands. As he watched, Nathan ran along the sandy path toward our driveway, then veered to the left instead of to the right toward the house.  Immediately his father yelled, ‘What did I tell you to do?!” and Nathan instantly changed his direction and ran for the house without even a backward look.
            As he approached the deep shade of the drive himself, Keith felt an inch tall.  Nathan’s tricycle was off to the left, parked in the hedgerow by our chicken pen.  That’s what he had been headed for because his father had taught him to always put up his tricycle.
            He put Lucas down on the ground and sent him on into the house as he went for the tricycle himself, to put it up for his younger son, who had only been trying to obey his father in all things.  Just as he got there, a gray-green cottonmouth as thick as a bike tire tube charged from the bushes.  Keith was able to grab a shovel in time and kill it. 
            Imagine if he had been a four year old.  Would he have seen the snake in time?  Would he have even known to be on the look out as one should here in the north Florida piney woods?  Cottonmouths are not shy—not only will they charge, they will change direction and come after you.  A snake that size could easily have struck above Nathan’s waist, and at only forty pounds he was probably dead on his feet.
            Now let me ask you this—does your child obey you instantly?  Or do you have to argue, threaten, bribe, or cajole him into doing what you tell him to do?  Do you think it doesn’t matter?  The world is filled with dangerous things, even if you don’t live where I do—traffic, electricity, deep water, high drop offs—predators.  If you don’t teach him instant obedience, you could be responsible for his injury or death some day--you, because you didn’t teach him to obey.  Because you thought it wasn’t that important.  Because you thought it would make him hate you.  Because you thought it made you sound mean.  Or dozens of other excuses.
            We put our boys in child car seats before it was required by law.  We actually had other people ask us, “How do you get him to sit in the seat?”  Excuse me? Isn’t it funny that when the law started requiring it, those parents figured it out?  Not getting in trouble with the law was evidently more important to them than the welfare of their children.
            The hedgerows don’t go away when your child grows up.  In fact, they become even more dangerous if you haven’t taught him as you should have.  Isn’t it sad when the elders of the church have to nag people to get them to do one simple thing for the betterment of the church or the visitors whose souls they are supposed to care about, like sitting somewhere besides the two back pews?  Those are probably the same people who as children had to be begged to obey their parents. 
            Do you want to know what someone was like as a child?  I can show you the ones who threw tantrums; they’re the ones who threaten to leave if things aren’t done their way.  I can point out the ones who wouldn’t share their toys; they won’t give up anything now either, especially not their “rights.”  The snake in the hedgerow has bitten them, and this time it poisoned their souls, not their bodies.
            Look around you Sunday morning.  Decide which of those adults you want your children to be like when they grow up.  It doesn’t happen automatically.  It happens when loving parents work hard, sometimes enduring a whole lot of unpleasantness and even criticism, to mold their children into disciples of the Lord.
            Danger hides in the hedgerows.  Make sure your child’s soul stays safe.
 
Now Adonijah [David’s son and] the son of Haggith exalted himself, saying, "I will be king." And he prepared for himself chariots and horsemen, and fifty men to run before him. His father had never at any time displeased him by asking, "Why have you done thus and so?" 1 Kings 1:5-6.

On that day I will fulfill against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from beginning to end. And I declare to him that I am about to punish his house forever, for the iniquity that he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God, and he did not restrain them, 1 Samuel 3:12-13.
 
Dene Ward
 

Franklin Delano Roosevelt became president during the height of the Great Depression.  Eight days after his inauguration, he began a series of radio broadcasts called "Fireside Chats."  The country had faced a month long series of bank closings.  He closed the bank system on March 6, Congress passed the Emergency Banking Act on March 9, and he gave his first Fireside Chat on March 12, 1933, explaining his policies and actions.  He had a tone and demeanor over the radio that showed his own self-assurance and made people feel as if they had a closer relationship with him than one might think of a president.  And they grew to trust him.  More people listened to the fireside chats than to the popular radio programs of the day.
            Of course, he used these things to his political advantage as well.  Besides explaining his policies, he quelled rumors and countered the conservative media.  Yes, conservatives ran the media in those days.  His own press secretary Stephen Early said, "[Radio] cannot misrepresent or misquote."  FDR was a liberal in a conservative world at the time and faced the same things conservatives face today in reverse.
            Fireside chats also helped him as governor of New York against a conservative legislature.  One historian says that the first actual fireside chat was given by Roosevelt as governor on April 3, 1929.  His presidential fireside chats ran from March 12, 1933 till June 12, 1944, thirty in all, though different scholars count between 27 and 31, running 11 to 44 minutes in length.  From what I could find, the scripts for the Fireside Chats are stored in the National Archives, though I am sure the recordings themselves must be stored somewhere as well.
             Keith and I have our own version of Fireside Chats.  In Florida they are limited to winter, or our version of it—any time it is cool enough to enjoy a steaming cup of coffee after breakfast.  The smell of wood smoke and the crisp air that nips your nose and chaps your legs even through pants make them all that more enjoyable.  And despite that cold we seem to sit even longer while our cheeks turn red from the heat of the flames as, conversely, our toes slowly freeze into ice cubes inside our socks.  We talk far more then than any other time of day.
            And talk and talk and talk—sometimes as much as an hour.  Many a good teaching technique and blog post have come to mind as we bounce ideas off one another.  I ask for help with studies that are more in Keith's area and he asks for help for those I might possibly know more about—which is certainly not many.  Together we hope that our resulting classes are easier for others to listen to and absorb.  Isn't that what Christian couples are supposed to do? 
             In our earlier years, when sitting by the fire for a cup of coffee was only a Saturday event due to work and children, we also talked about child raising.  As a stay-at-home mom with a home-based music studio, I could watch firsthand our boys' progress, could see any problems that might be developing in their characters, and could then pass that on to Keith so we could brainstorm ideas for correcting those things.  I could correct immediate things and then report to their father what happened.  The father is the spiritual leader of the home and more often than not must delegate some of that authority to the mother because she is with the children more hours than he.  So our talks often centered around the spiritual atmosphere of our home then, but we did talk, even if it meant waiting until the little guys were in bed.  Isn't that what Christian couples are supposed to do?
             We share any problems we have with others and ask one another for advice.  We share experiences and look for support.  We share memories and build our love.  Isn't that what Christian couples are supposed to do?
            Sometimes I wonder how many out there actually do these things.  More than once I have mentioned something to one spouse, knowing the other already knew about it, only to have that spouse say, "What are you talking about?" because the information had not been shared.  If somehow these two do have time together, what do they talk about?  Do spiritual things matter at all, or is it just the mundane?  Do they ever work on building their faith, share a Biblical discovery, make a plan for how to serve others that week, or schedule some family time?  Do they ever sit and just have a good discussion about a Bible topic, with neither one allowed to get upset if he is disagreed with?  Aren't Christian couples supposed to do those kinds of things?
            If you are dating a young man and find that you cannot talk about spiritual things, maybe you should take a second look.  You should certainly talk about how your living will be made, where you will live, and how you will raise your children.  Those can have spiritual ramifications—but if you are only talking about the standard of living you expect, about the number of children you want and your worldly ambitions for them while your hopes for their spiritual destiny never enters the conversation, something is out of whack.  Marrying a man who has no interest in spiritual things at all, who, if he attends services at all, sits there bored with the sermon, never sings a hymn, and gets impatient if you want to attend a women's study, will be the worst mistake of your life.
             If you are both Christians and you have never had conversations like these, now is the time to start.  It may not be too late to make a difference in your marriage and in the lives of your children.  At this point, you will probably need to plan it—make it part of a date night if it takes that, and do it just like any other important appointment you keep no matter what.  It is important.  More than you ever imagined.
 
For they that are after the flesh mind the things of the flesh; but they that are after the Spirit the things of the Spirit (Rom 8:5).

Dene Ward