It must be a sign of age.  I find myself reminiscing a lot more lately.  When we walked the property with Lucas last Thanksgiving we talked more about the past than the present.  Certainly more than the future—which for us is suddenly so much smaller than the past.
            “Remember the wild myrtles by the fire pit?”
            “Yes, we sometimes hung a tarp on the branches so we could scoot under it and have a hot dog roast even in a drizzle.”
            “Remember the pine tree in the field?”
            “Yep.  That was first base.”
            “Remember how small these oak trees used to be?”
            “Yes.  I used to climb up limbs that are too rotten to trust any longer, what there are left of them.”
            I remember wondering what it would be like after the boys were grown, when we were living here alone in a quiet house and an empty yard.  No more wondering, only remembering.
            I have said to more than one who came seeking advice that looking back on our past can be helpful.  If you despair at ever becoming the Christian you ought to be, look where you were ten years ago.  Can you see any improvement?  Can you say to yourself, “I don’t act that way now,” about anything at all?  God meant for us to be encouraged, and I find nothing in the scriptures telling me I can’t take a moment every now and then to check my progress and use it as a gauge, both to spur myself on if I see none, and to invigorate my growth with any positive impetus it gives me.
            Many times we quote Paul’s comment to the Philippians, “Forgetting the things that are behind…” (3:13). In fact, I have heard preachers say we shouldn’t think about the past at all.  But Paul didn’t believe that.  He remembered all his life where he started, “the chief of sinners,” 1 Tim 1:16.  He used that memory to keep himself humble before others and grateful to God for the salvation granted him. It bolstered his faith enough to endure countless hardships and persecutions.  As a “chief sinner” he could hardly rail against God for the tortures he suffered when he knew he deserved so much more.
            God has always wanted his people to remember the past.  I lost count of the passages in Deuteronomy exhorting Israel to remember that they were slaves in a foreign country, and that God loved them enough to deliver them with His mighty hand.  Here is a case, though, where the reminding didn’t work as it did for Paul.  Still, God tried.  What is the Passover but a reminder of their deliverance from Egypt?  What is the Feast of Tabernacles but a reminder of His care for them in the wilderness?  What was the pot of manna in the Ark of the Covenant, the stones on the breastplate of the ephod, and the pile of rocks by the Jordan but the same?  “Remember, remember, remember!” God enjoined.  It’s how we use that memory that makes it right or wrong.
            Paul says we are to remember what we used to be.  “And such were some of you,” he reminds the Corinthians in chapter 6, after listing what we consider the worst sins imaginable.  You “were servants of sin” he reminds the Romans in 6:17.  You once walked “according to the course of this world,” “in vanity of mind,” “in the desire of the Gentiles,” and in a host of other sins too numerous to list (Eph 2:2; 4:17; 1 Pet 4:3; Col 3; Titus 3.)  Those memories should spur us on in the same way they prodded Paul.  Nothing is too hard to bear, too much to ask, or too difficult to overcome if we remember where we started.  Be encouraged by your growth and take heart.
            And then this: let your gratitude be always abounding, overflowing, and effusive to a God who loves us in whatever state we find ourselves, as long as that growth continues.
 
Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called "the uncircumcision" by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands-- remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ, Ephesians 2:11-13.
 
Dene Ward

     I thought about it a few years ago when a younger generation began talking about how hurtful it was when someone disagreed with them or told them they were wrong, and people actually took it seriously, as if it were a wound as bad as a bloody, gaping gunshot wound.  All of a sudden they needed counseling to get over the ordeal of being disagreed with. In fact, it was no longer considered politically correct to disagree with anyone.  Suddenly, a job evaluation, a common way to determine whether someone deserved a raise or even perhaps, should be let go for not doing the work they were hired to do, was a grave injustice and should be discontinued.  I said then, "Someday this will infect the church and correction will become a dirty word among us.  It will be impossible to 'reprove, rebuke, and exhort' as the New Testament teaches that we should, and might even get the church sued.  Well, it seems to be happening almost as I predicted.
     First, this is not about sexual abuse in the context of the church, usually by church leaders of some stripe.  That is a case where the perpetrator deserves prison and the victim deserves all the counseling s/he needs and the love and acceptance of the group where it happened.  Who knows how many others might be saved if we quit closing our eyes to things that most certainly do exist whether we want to believe it or not?  No, this is not about that. 
     I have experienced all sorts of hurt in my life, hurt perpetrated by Christians.  As a preacher's family we were lied about, slandered, gossiped about to the point that a close friend who lived 150 miles away called to ask what was going on.  That's how far it had spread.  We have received death threats that wound up with an FBI agent standing at our front door.  Once, a group of elders was so angry that the church was growing under Keith's tutelage and everyone loved him and our family that they threw us out during the holidays.  We found a new place, but we were within two days of becoming homeless.  So, yes, I understand how it feels when the people who are supposed to be closer than family and support you through thick and thin betray you.  I know countless preachers and elders and their wives, as well as Bible class teachers who have been through the same thing.  It did not make us special.  Even the apostle Paul dealt with "false brethren" (2 Cor 11:26). 
     But none of that gives any of us the right to denigrate the body of Christ for which he died; the body of Christ that is part of God's plan since before the world was made (Eph 3:10,11).  Just think for a minute if the apostles had reacted as some do.  One of their very own not only stole from them but put them in a dangerous position when he betrayed the Lord.  Why do you think Peter so suddenly denied being one of Jesus' followers?  Surely it crossed his mind that they were now all in danger and he could be standing up there next to Jesus during the trial, scourging, and ultimate crucifixion if he did anything else.  Think for a minute how Jesus' murder affected them all—Peter saying, "I'm going fishing," as if it were time to get back to normal, and the hopelessness of those on the road to Emmaus,  ("we had thought").  Think how all of those women felt who stood there looking at the gruesome bleeding wounds and watching him take his last breath?  Don't you think these people were traumatized?
      How do you think people felt when they actually watched Ananias and Sapphira fall over dead?  When it says "great fear" came on the church, it certainly wasn't mere reverence.  How did it feel to the non-Palestinian Jews whose widows were completely left out of the serving, good women, older women who could have starved because they left all meaning to return but never got to after Pentecost?  Wouldn't that have cut to the heart?  Sometimes I wonder about us and the generation we have raised who cannot stand to be disciplined or simply disagreed with because it just hurts so much that I can no longer function as the Lord expects me to.  What?!
     How did Paul handle his hurt?  Not by spreading it everywhere, telling everyone about the horrible people he had to deal with.  Paul understood that the mission God has given us is far more important than our feelings.  To place ourselves above that mission is nothing more than pride and self-centeredness.  The way to get past these things is not to malign God's plan—which is what you are doing whether you want to believe it or not—but to press on with the work He has given us.  If I am busy in the kingdom, how will I have time to mope about people trying to help me improve myself?  Even if they do it in a ham-handed fashion, at least they care enough to try.  If the method is particularly strong, perhaps we need to take a really good look at ourselves and figure out why they did it that way.  More than once I have found myself recognizing a need for change because someone cared enough to say something about it.
     God's organization is perfect.  Unfortunately, it is filled with flawed people.  I dare anyone to find any organization that is filled with perfect people.  It simply doesn’t exist.  The Lord's body is the closest group you will get.  The best friends I have are every one of them Christians.  The best people in the world are in Christ's church.  As I said, we have had some hard and hurtful things in our lives, but we are careful what we say about them—you notice I have not mentioned any names or places here--and we never mention them to people we are trying to convert to the Lord.  My feelings are never more important than I a soul I am trying to save.
 
This is why I endure all things for the elect: so that they also may obtain salvation, which is in Christ Jesus, with eternal glory (2Tim 2:10).

It happens every time Keith and I walk the property.  Suddenly I find myself pushed into the rough while he walks the path.  I learned a long time ago to just push back and he immediately realizes what he is doing.
            Keith was raised in the Ozarks, born in a farmhouse in the back country, down a rocky lane and across from a cow field lined with wild blackberries, a steep hill rising straight from the back porch.  As a boy he walked the woods, his feet naturally finding the easy way among all the stones, limbs, and golf ball sized black walnut hulls and acorns as he gazed upward into the trees.  If he doesn’t actively think about what he is doing, his feet still do that from long ingrained habit.  He’s always embarrassed and aggravated with himself when he realizes what he’s done to me, and he appreciates the nudges when I find myself knee high in briars. 
            Life is a little like that.  Most of us live everyday muddling through as best we can, oblivious to anything but our own cares, our own needs, trying to make things run as smoothly as possible.  What makes “a bad day” for us?  When things don’t go smoothly—a malfunctioning coffee pot, a stubborn zipper, a flat tire on the way to work, a traffic jam that makes us late when we had left in plenty of time, a spouse or toddler who had the ill grace to wake up in as foul a temper as we did. 
            It takes active thought to control your selfish impulses and consider others.  It takes effort to accomplish the difficult—self-control, self-improvement, compassion for people who, like us, don’t deserve it.  But that’s exactly what our Lord expects of us.  This is exactly the example he left us.
            Even under a weight of responsibility none of us can imagine, he gave his disciples his careful attention and encouragement.  Even in tension-filled situations he showed compassion to both the sick and the sinner.  Even in tremendous pain and weakness, he remembered his mother and forgave the pawns of a murderous mob.
            If Jesus had looked for the smooth way, none of us would ever have hope of one.  But if all we look for now is the smooth way, we may as well enjoy it while we can.  It’s the only smooth way we will ever have.
 
Enter in by the narrow gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leads to destruction, and many are they that enter in thereby. For narrow is the gate, and straitened the way, that leads unto life, and few are they that find it. Matt 7:13,14.
 
Dene Ward
 

We sit on the carport most spring mornings with a last cup of coffee, looking for the first sign of spring green in the trees, patting Chloe on the head, and planning our day.  This morning a light breeze ruffled my hair and I shrugged my shoulders against the bit of chill left from the last cold front that had blown through earlier in the week.  A light tinkle made my eyes wander up to the new wind chimes hanging above my head, not your ordinary bong-y wind chimes, but a delicate, more musical note that had gotten my attention the first time I heard them.
            I have a friend, a sister in Christ, who crafts these things herself from antique flatware and keys, glass jar lids, beads, and anything else she can find as she wanders through flea markets and small dusty shops.  Mine has all these beauties hanging from an antique silver salt cellar, something I must explain to anyone younger than 60.  All of her creations are beautiful and unique, and mine has that particularly melodious sound that made me choose it from its fellows.
            Outward beauty does not determine the sound that a wind chime produces.  It can only make the sounds that its various elements make.  You won’t get the same sound from iron bars that you will from silver and glass.  Ever do the trick with your glassware, pinging an empty one to see if it’s truly crystal or just ordinary glass?  That’s the way it is with wind chimes, and that’s the way it is with you and me.  A stony heart will not produce the same fruit as a soft one.  An iron heart will not act the same way a heart of gold will.
            You also know this:  the harder the wind blows, the louder the chimes.  When it seems like the storms of life blow us about the most, those are the times that what we are becomes most obvious.  Those are the times that people see what we’re made of.  Even if they don’t really care about the faith you may have tried to share, it becomes so obvious they cannot miss it.  The wind blows where it will, and you hear the voice thereof, but know not from where it comes, or where it goes; so is every one that is born of the Spirit, John 3:8.  People will not see the Spirit within you personally, but they will see its effects on you.  You cannot disguise whether or not you are filled with the Spirit of God.
            Today, think about this more important thing—you are God’s wind chimes.  People will not be satisfied with your appearance.  The point of the chimes is the sound they make.  What sound does the Wind produce in you?
 
And they that are in the flesh cannot please God. But you are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if so be that the Spirit of God dwells in you. But if any man has not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his. And if Christ is in you, the body is dead because of sin; but the spirit is life because of righteousness. But if the Spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he that raised up Christ Jesus from the dead shall give life also to your mortal bodies through his Spirit that dwells in you, Rom 8:8-11.
 
Dene Ward

I learned as a child in the Florida school system that Juan Ponce de Leon was the first Spanish explorer to land here.  He had heard stories about a magical spring that could cure diseases and make you young again, so he began the search.  The land he finally set foot on somewhere near St. Augustine was so beautiful he called it Florida, "full of flowers".  Spring in Florida is beautiful.  I understand why he was impressed.  If he had landed in July, we would have had a much different name.  (What’s the Spanish word for “sauna?”)
            We do have a lot of natural springs in Florida—probably more than half a dozen within 30 miles of where I sit—but none with the magical powers he looked for.  I can find a Fountain of Youth quite easily, though.  I have it laid out right next to me as I type.  The eternal life promised to the faithful may be the most obvious application of that concept, but I can think of yet another.
            As I watch my grandsons play I find myself remembering my own childhood, realizing as an adult how unfettered it was by worry, pain, and sorrow.  I never for a moment wondered where my next meal was coming from.  I never worried about storms, not even hurricanes.  I never worried about bad people doing bad things to me.  I had a Daddy I trusted implicitly.  He would take care of me.  That’s what Daddies do.
            Once when I was still in early grade school, I had a bad dream.  My Daddy came in and sat on the bed next to me, asking me about the dream and then carefully undoing every worry it had evoked in me.  When he finished I could go back to sleep because of his reassurances.  That’s what Daddies do.
            One morning in first grade I was upset about something—I don’t even remember what now.  But my Daddy noticed that I had tears in my eyes when I got out of the car at school.  As I stood in front of my classroom, waiting for the bell to ring, I looked up and there he was, striding down the sidewalk.  He had parked the car and come looking for me to make sure I was all right.  That’s what Daddies do.
            Daddies provide.  They protect.  They comfort.  Do you want a Fountain of Youth?  Stop worrying about things you cannot fix.  Stop being afraid of things you cannot handle alone.  Stop wondering how you will manage.  Cast your cares on a Father who loves you.  Once again become a little child who has a Daddy who will always be there, always watching out for your needs and taking care of your problems.  If you don’t have that, it’s only because you insist on ignoring His outstretched hand.  You insist on trying to control everything yourself—as if you were the Daddy. 
            Do you begin your prayers, “Father in Heaven?”  Then act like He is your Father.  Trust Him.  Begin this day with a new exuberance, one born because you have surrendered your cares to Him and finally found the Fountain of Youth.
 
For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, "Abba! Father!" The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, Romans 8:14-16.
 
Dene Ward

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

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

Dene Ward

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

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dene Ward