She took him into her home.  She fed him.  She offered him a place to rest, a place he felt safe.  Then, when he was sound asleep, she knelt next to him and pounded a tent pin through his temple. 
            Many times I have heard Jael, the wife of Heber, described as a sneaky, devious, blood-thirsty woman.  We in our civilized, politically correct, white collar world decry any ancient blood-letting as barbaric, even though people of our own era commit atrocities, from the mega-massacres of Stalin and Hitler to the mob mentality that runs rampant in both the inner cities and suburbia at the lowest flashpoint, be it outrage or fear.  So, in our blindness to our own hidden savagery, we read the account in Judges 4 with a jaundiced and arrogant eye.  If we had spent any time at all on the song of Deborah in Judges 5, we would have avoided contradicting divinely inspired opinion about Jael’s actions.  Blessed above women shall Jael be, v 24.
            Certainly that should settle the matter.  Just for the added emphasis of common sense, though, let’s ponder this question:  What was this nomadic shepherd woman, alone at home, supposed to do?  Should we require that she meet a trained warrior, the captain of a mighty army, in a fair fight?  Indeed, I read that the customs of the day said for a man to force his way into another man’s tent, or to merely enter that same tent when the man was not at home, was an action worthy of death. 
            But how do we reconcile this type of behavior with Jesus’ teaching.  I say unto you, love your enemies, do good to them who hate you; bless those who curse you; pray for those who despitefully use you.  To him who smites you on the one cheek, offer the other also; and from him who takes away your cloak, withhold not your coat also.  Give to everyone who asks and from him who takes away your goods, ask them not again.  And as you would that men should do to you, do also unto them likewise, Luke 6:27-31.  Some would say, “Jael was under the old law. Things are different now.”  While that is so, it only skims the surface of the matter.
            Old Testament Israel was a physical kingdom with a physical king sitting on a physical throne.  They fought physical wars using physical weapons.  Isaiah prophesies a coming kingdom where they shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks, nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more, 2:4; a kingdom that would have no physical boundaries, but would encompass the whole world, one into which all nations shall flow, 2:2.  Jesus established that kingdom, the church, his throne not on this earth but in Heaven.
            Yet we still fight battles.  Paul spent a good amount of time detailing our armor (Eph 6), our weapons and battle tactics (2 Cor 10), and the characteristics of a faithful soldier (2 Tim 2). 
            Every time we overcome temptation, we win a battle; every time we speak of our faith to others, we take an enemy captive; every time a Christian leaves this world, having been faithful to the end, we pound a tent pin into the temple of Satan.  If we are too politically correct to fight a battle, if we are too finicky for hand-to-hand combat, if we are too “civilized” to pick up a sword and slash our way through the enemy forces, we don’t have what it takes to be a follower of Christ.
            Make no mistake about it.  You are going to war today.  Be prepared to fight in it.
 
Suffer hardship as a good soldier of Christ, for no soldier on service entangles himself in the affairs of this life, that he may please him who enrolled him as a soldier, 2 Tim 2:3,4.
 
Dene Ward

“Do you love me, Peter?”
            “Lord, you know I love you.”
            “Feed my sheep.”
            Most of us are familiar with the scene on the seashore recorded in John 21.  I think we make a lot of fuss over the word “love” in its various permutations because we have read a Greek dictionary and think we have suddenly become scholars with great insight.  In reality there is considerable disagreement about what Jesus and Peter may or may not have intended. 
            However, most people agree that Jesus repeats the question three times because of Peter’s three denials.  Peter had already repented in bitter tears and was surely forgiven, but this gave him the opportunity to make amends in another, more direct way.
            Peter takes a lot of grief for his failings.  I have heard many say, and have more than likely said myself, “Peter gives me hope.  If the Lord will take him, surely he will take me.”   Why do we think we are any better than Peter? 
            Is it any less a denial of the Lord as the master of my life when I fail to act as He would?  Is it any less a denial when I fail to speak His word in an age of political correctness?  Is it any less a denial when I fail to follow His example in forgiving my neighbor, my brother, my spouse, or simply the other driver or shopper or the waitress or store clerk?  Is it any less a denial when my life matches the world instead of my Savior’s?  I may stand up and confess His name on Sunday morning, but it’s how I live my life the rest of the week that truly tells the story, and neither the circumstances nor the provocation matter.  All of my reactions to the circumstances of life and to other people are either a confession or a denial of Jesus as the Lord of my life.
            How many times should the Lord ask me, “Do you love me?”  How many second chances do I need?  How many will I need just today?
 
But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.  All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and Jehovah hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. Isa 53:5,6.
 
Dene Ward

We were standing on the carport one evening when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.  I turned just in time to push Keith out of the path of a garter snake determinedly chugging his way up the slope to the concrete slab.  We called the dogs off and allowed him to meander under the mower and off the edge of the pad to the cool darkness under the porch.  A few days later he made another appearance and we discovered his home when he wriggled away—the hollow pipes supporting the metal roofing of the carport.
            I have come a long way in 35 years--from a city girl who screamed and ran from a foot long, pencil-thin, bright green garden snake to a country woman who understands the value of a snake on the property—God’s original mousetrap.  I will never be a snake lover.  I went out one afternoon and found him stretched out at the foot of my lounge chair.  I got the broom and shooed him back into his pipe.  My dogs can sit at my feet and have their heads scratched, but with Mr. Snake it is only a matter of “live and let live.”
            Too many times we take that attitude with Satan.  Yes, he is out there every day.  Sometimes we even bump elbows in passing, but we don’t have to stop and politely say, “Excuse me.”  Don’t give him a cool spot on the carport and an idle belly rub with your bare toes.
            If this garter snake were one of the four poisonous varieties we have in this area—all of which we have seen on our land—he would not be tolerated.  Although my guys may tell funny stories about me and snakes, they cannot deny that I know how to make like Annie Oakley when a bad one comes along.  I have killed them with a shotgun, a .22 rifle, and a .22 pistol.  I have killed them with rat shot and buckshot.  When necessary I have used a shovel.  I have lost count of how many poisonous snakes I have killed.  They get fewer every year.
            How are we doing with Satan?  Does he think his presence is tolerated, even welcome?  Or does he know that it’s dangerous to be around us?  He is fighting a losing battle and he knows it, but that won’t keep his poison from killing us if we allow him to get too close.
 
Do not give opportunity to the Devil, Eph 4:27.
 
Dene Ward
 

On our recent camping trip we had a lot of wildlife for company.  Yet it was neither frightening nor bothersome.  The only animal we saw besides the usual birds and squirrels that lived in the campground itself was a young raccoon who moseyed up to the woodpile, so interested in the spot where Keith had slung some cold coffee that he didn’t see us until about the same time we saw him.  All of us were startled and he fled for cover.  Yet I am positive we had much more company out in the woods.
            If I did not see them, how do I know?  Because as we hiked the park’s fifteen miles of trails over the next four days, we saw their tracks: the cloven hoof prints of many deer, the tiny handprints of other raccoons, the small padded paws of bobcats, and the deep, heavy prints of wild boars, along with places they had torn up the ground rooting and wallowing.  There were not just a few of these tracks either.  We saw far more animal tracks than people tracks on our daily hikes.
            I bet you believe me now, don’t you?  Yet God’s fingerprints are all over this world of ours and it seems that every year fewer people believe in Him.  They might as well believe that animals don’t exist in the forest; it would make about as much sense. 
            But people have been behaving this way for thousands of years. I am reminded of Moses performing his signs before Pharaoh.  The Egyptian ruler did not want to believe in Jehovah as the one true God.  He had his many magicians replicate Moses’ signs with their tricks.  Finally though, they reached a point where they could not do so. 
            “This,” they said to Pharaoh, “is the finger of God.”
            Would that men would be so honest today.
 
For the invisible things of Him since the creation of the world are clearly seen, being perceived through the things that are made, even His everlasting power and divinity; that they may without excuse, because that knowing God, they glorified Him not as God, neither gave thanks, but became vain in their reasonings and their senseless heart was darkened.  Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools, and changed the glory of the incorruptible God for the likeness of an image of corruptible man, and of birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping things.  Wherefore God gave them up…Rom 1:20-24.
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.
 
The feeding of the five thousand is the only miracle recorded in all four gospels.  Why?  It seems to be among the simplest of the miracles and we all learned it as children.  I have long wondered what I was missing.  Certainly John's gospel adds depth with Jesus' bread of life discourse which is not recorded in Matthew, Mark or Luke.  Is there more?  What about this miracle impacted the four so deeply that they all told it?  More significantly, why did the Holy Spirit deem it so important that he inspired three repetitions?
 
In the night after the miracle, but before the discourse recorded in John six, Jesus came walking on the water to the disciples who were under distress in the storm.  When he got into the boat, the winds ceased and the disciples, "were utterly astounded, for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened" (Mk 6:52).  What did they fail to understand?  What should they have concluded from having seen the miracle of the loaves?  Mark indicates that they should have known something that would have led them to accept the miracle of calming the sea with a sense of confirmation rather than astonishment.
 
Bread is first mentioned in Jesus' ministry when Satan tempted Jesus to turn the stones to bread.  Jesus replied, "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God" (Mt 4:4).  Most of us note that the quotation is from Deut 8:3 but look no further.  In the first of his three farewell sermons to the Israelites, Moses actually said, "And he humbled you and let you hunger and fed you with manna, which you did not know, nor did your fathers know, that he might make you know that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD" (Deut 8:3).   Jesus' quotation was not a statement revealed by God, but a conclusion that the Israelites should have drawn from the miracle of the manna.  Jesus touched on this when he said, "Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life," and, "For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world….I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst." (John 6:27, 33-35).  After the bread of life discourse, the disciples understood that Jesus had the words of eternal life, but they did not understand that he was the Word.  Just as the Israelites failed to understand the lesson of the manna until instructed by Moses, the apostles failed to understand the message of the feeding of the five thousand. 
 
But, Mark does not mention the disciples' hardness of heart and failure to comprehend the feeding of the five thousand until after Jesus calmed the sea.  Truly, as Matthew says, they worshipped him as the Son of God, and just as truly, Mark says they had already missed something that should have kept them from being shocked by this miracle.
 
In feeding the five thousand, Jesus took the role of God feeding Israel the manna.  The five thousand were in the wilderness just as was Israel.  Jesus replaced God in this event and fed the multitude the bread of heaven that appeared from nothing by the hands of God, just as had the manna.  Even before the calming of the sea, they should have seen that he was proclaiming himself to be God by this miracle.  Had they done so, they would not have been "utterly astounded" at the calming of the sea.  They would have seen it as just another proof of his identity -- certainly wonderful, but not something new.
 
 That Old Testament miracle was designed to teach Israel that man lives by the word of God, not bread.  We can say this.  We can even say, "Do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on.  Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?" (Matt 6:25).  But, when we begin to give account in the night watches, we often find that we have spent more time wishing for things than praying to God; we have spent more money on our pleasures than we have given to God and the poor; we have learned new skills to keep our jobs but cannot learn the words of li
 
A prophet would proclaim that we have not learned the lesson of the feeding of the five thousand that Jesus is to be heard as God and he is life, feed on him.  Our church-going souls are starving while the cushioned pews are littered with fish and manna.
 
Keith Ward

I have heard it all my life and never noticed the problem until recently.  “Do one good deed every day.”  How many New Year’s resolutions have you heard that include that phrase?  How many times have you heard people talk about trying to better themselves by doing “one good deed every day?”  How many speak as if they are proud of that very accomplishment?
            Then it struck me.  One good deed a day?  That is supposed to make me a good person?  One?  Hey!  If I get it done by 8 or 9 in the morning, I don’t have to worry about another one, right?  If I do 5 today, I can take the rest of the week off.  I’m not expected to work on the weekends surely. Something is terribly wrong if we think doing one good deed a day is a wonderful accomplishment for a Christian.
            Depart from evil, and do good; Seek peace, and pursue it. Psalm 34:14
            Trust in Jehovah, and do good…Depart from evil, and do good; Psalm 37:3,27.
            I know that there is nothing better for them, than to rejoice, and to do good so long as they live. Eccl 3:12.
            But I say unto you that hear, Love your enemies, do good to them that hate you, Luke 6:27.
            But to do good and to communicate forget not: for with such sacrifices God is well pleased, Heb 13:16.   
              And let us not be weary in well-doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. So then, as we have opportunity, let us work that which is good toward all men, and especially toward them that are of the household of the faith. Gal 6:9,10.
            Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor that which is evil; cleave to that which is good. In love of the brethren be tenderly affectioned one to another; in honor preferring one another; communicating to the necessities of the saints; given to hospitality. Bless them that persecute you; bless, and curse not. Rejoice with them that rejoice; weep with them that weep. Be of the same mind one toward another. Render to no man evil for evil. Take thought for things honorable in the sight of all men. If it be possible, as much as in you lies, be at peace with all men. Avenge not yourselves, beloved, but give place unto the wrath of God: for it is written, Vengeance belongs unto me; I will recompense, says the Lord. But if your enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him to drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head.  Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good. Rom 12:9-10, 13-21. 
            Do I really think I can overcome evil with one good deed a day?
            Christians don’t work by the quota system.  They know they should be looking for good things to do, as well as reacting in good ways to things done to them, all day long, every day.  Yet even that is not enough to repay the debt we owe for our forgiveness. 
            I think we need to stop counting.
 
Dene Ward

It was late in the day and still the noise surrounded us.  The elevator dinging, the telephones chirping, the call buttons issuing a strident claxon, the IV pole beeping, the whooshes from the suction wand, the roaring wheels of the food carts, even the dimmer wail of the sirens as ambulances rolled in beneath us to the emergency room—and this is where we are supposed to relax and recuperate, I wondered?  Since when is a hospital a place of rest?  At least hospice, where my mother was ultimately moved, was quiet and peaceful.

              Our culture is a noisy one.  I have had people tell me they leave the television on for company, so there is always noise in the background.  Maybe because I live in the country I find that utterly confounding.  Yet this morning as I sat by the fire pit with a final cup of morning coffee I found myself thinking that it certainly isn't as quiet as thirty-five years ago, when cows lowing, donkeys braying, roosters crowing, woodpeckers tapping for food in the live oaks, and wrens singing their little heads off were the loudest things for miles around. 

              Rest.  God promised His people rest—from their enemies, from the toil of slavery, from the worries of life, if they would only keep their covenant with Him.  But what did they prefer?  The hoopla and noise of idolatry and all its attendant debauchery.  A peaceful life with their God was boring, I suppose.  It certainly did not offer the physical thrill of sin and the emotional high of a pagan festival.  What did He have to say about that? 

              Thus says the LORD: “Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls. But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’ ​I set watchmen over you, saying, ‘Pay attention to the sound of the trumpet!’ But they said, ‘We will not pay attention.’ Therefore hear, O nations, and know, O congregation, what will happen to them. Hear, O earth; behold, I am bringing disaster upon this people, the fruit of their devices, because they have not paid attention to my words; and as for my law, they have rejected it. " (Jer 6:16-19).  Too late they learned the value of a peaceful and quiet life with God, led by His Word and following His Law. 

               The Devil cultivates our desire for excitement and stimulation.  He fills our ears with his noise until we can no longer tolerate the serenity of spiritual satisfaction and peace with God.  Busyness becomes a status symbol.  We fill our children's minds with "cultural enrichment" and run ourselves ragged trying to outdo one another in our bustling around.  We go and go and go and talk and talk and talk until we have no time at all to sit still and simply meditate on God and His place in our lives—which ultimately becomes no place at all.

               Be silent before the Lord GOD! For the day of the LORD is near… {Zeph 1:7).  That's what happens when we become too busy and too loud to notice God.  It was spoken to a people who would soon be destroyed because they would not be quiet long enough to listen. 

              Far better to learn the lesson the psalmist teaches:  ​“Be still, and know that I am God…”  (Ps 46:10).

              Far better to realize that rest is not a punishment but a reward, a reward for those who have been busy, not with loud self-serving sin, but with the quiet work of the Lord, serving Him by serving others, in a place where we can truly rest and recuperate from all of our trials.
 
​Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”  (Matt 11:28-30)
 
Dene Ward

Have you noticed the number of commercials and advertisements for weight-loss products, nicotine patches, fitness equipment, and gym memberships?  The ad man is not dumb.  This is the week we decide on our resolutions.  It happens every year.
            Just think about the sales you see in the grocery flyer each week.  February it will be chocolate, strawberries, and roses, and in March it will be corned beef and cabbage.  Candy, eggs, ham, and legs of lamb will top the list in April.  May through August will feature ribs, ground beef, steaks of all sorts, hot dogs, potato salad and baked beans—typical summer cook-out fare.  Then September will devote a whole page to notebooks, paper, and pencils.  And you know what the fall brings—chili beans, apples, turkeys, cranberries, sweet potatoes, and standing rib roasts.  And we all buy most of that “in season” don’t we?  Then we load our carts with salads, yogurt, and Lean Cuisines on January 1, and begin the whole sequence all over.
            They have us pegged.  They pay attention to our habits.  They even know when a trend is about to start so they can cash in from the beginning.  Low fat gave way to low carb, and now the buzzword is “organic.”  It seems to me that labeling food “organic” is a bit redundant, but that’s another topic for another day.
            If men can figure us out that easily, why don’t we understand that our adversary can too?  He knows what will tempt us the most and when it will, and he is persistent.  We can get rid of him for a time, resist the Devil and he will flee from you, James 4:7, but he will always come back and try again.  Just like those ad men, he uses the things he knows will work, and is never afraid to branch out and try a new tack. 
            When you pick up that flyer in the Thursday paper, use it as a reminder to be careful.  Our lives are an open book, in more ways than one.
 
For this is the love of God that we keep his commandments, and his commandments are not grievous.  For whosoever is begotten of God overcomes the world, and this is the victory that overcomes the world—our faith.  And who is he who overcomes the world but he who believes that Jesus is the Son of God, 1 John 5:3-5.
 
Dene Ward

Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!
E’en though it be a cross that raiseth me,
Still all my song shall be, nearer, my God, to Thee.
Refrain:
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

Though like the wanderer, the sun gone down,
Darkness be over me, my rest a stone;
Yet in my dreams I’d be nearer, my God, to Thee.
(Refrain)

There let the way appear, steps unto Heav’n;
All that Thou sendest me, in mercy giv’n;
Angels to beckon me nearer, my God, to Thee.
(Refrain)

Then, with my waking thoughts bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs Bethel I’ll raise;
So by my woes to be nearer, my God, to Thee.
(Refrain)

Or, if on joyful wing cleaving the sky,
Sun, moon, and stars forgot, upward I’ll fly,
Still all my song shall be, nearer, my God, to Thee.
(Refrain)

There in my Father’s home, safe and at rest,
There in my Savior’s love, perfectly blest;
Age after age to be nearer, my God, to Thee.
(Refrain)
 
              If you know your Bible, you will recognize that this song was written about Jacob's trip to Haran as he fled his angry brother Esau (Gen 28:10-22).  "My rest a stone," and "in my dreams…steps unto Heaven," are anything but vague.  We too often think of the Jacob who stole his brother's birthright and connived the blessing of the genealogy of the Messiah from his father, while steadfastly ignoring that the Hebrew writer calls Esau a profane man who for one bowl of soup sold what he later claimed to be so important.  He may have been hungry from a long day hunting, but he was not about to starve any more than we are when we say, "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse."  And as far as the blessing, Isaac may have been blind, but God was not.  He knew who was receiving this most important blessing and He was perfectly happy with the choice, and that was someone other than a man whose god was his belly.  Even Isaac later recognized that.  And why?
              Read the verses above in your Bible and this is what you will see.  Jacob may have been less than we with our judgmental attitudes want our Bible heroes to be, i.e., perfect, but he learned from this dream to be mindful of God in his life, no matter where he was, not just in the Promised Land.  (How do we do outside the church building on a weekday?)  He was confident enough of this relationship that he took the initiative in making a vow.  Not even Abraham did that.  And God was confident enough in him to pass the Abrahamic covenant on through him (Gen 28:13-15).
              Jacob not only learned that God was always with him, he longed to be even closer.  How about us?  Can we truly sing this hymn and mean it?  Can we understand the "good" that comes from trials, or do we declare God to be "good" only when we get what we want?  Look at verse 4, one we never sing because I have never even seen it in any of our hymnals. 
              "Out of my stony griefs Bethel I'll raise."  Bethel, the "house of God"—Jacob was fleeing for his life, yet he realized that in that flight, he had become closer to God and raised an altar to him.  In other words, he recognized God's presence even in that time of trial.  And us?  "So by my woes to be nearer my God to thee."  Are we?  Do the struggles and trials—the "woes"--of this life bring us nearer to God, or do they chase us away, putting a dagger through our faith with statements like, "Why me?"  Do we think God owes us a life of ease and plenty because we have been faithful?  The Health and Wealth Gospel has struck again!
              Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (Jas 1:2-4)  I may not jump up and down with glee when I suffer, but can I see beyond this all too present world to the strength I will gain through successfully enduring trials?  The enduring is the key, along with its growth in wisdom.  If we do not endure and become stronger, even the trials are a waste.  You can sit around in a gym full of barbells and never gain anything from it until you pick them up and actually exercise your spiritual muscles.
              Then they left the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the name. And every day, in the temple and from house to house, they did not cease teaching and preaching that the Christ is Jesus. (Acts 5:41-42)  These people were not the sometimes neurotic sounding masochists that certain ancient Christians were, who thought physical pain was cleansing.  They knew that pain itself was not the goal, but that being worthy enough to even suffer for Christ was far superior to being honored by the world.   And they were willing to bring on even more suffering by continuing in their faithful obedience.
              And so their woes brought them "nearer to God."  How are you faring with your woes?  Are your trials working steadfastness (commitment) or do you give up at the first difficult thing that comes your way?  Are we even as good as this fellow Jacob whom we all want to malign as being less than godly?  Are we recognizing God in our lives and trying our best to grow closer to him day after day?
              Would you be willing to ask your song leader to add verse 4 to the song and sing it this coming Sunday?
 
Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. (Rom 5:2-5)
 
Dene Ward

You will find dates from 1793 to 1796 for its opening, but evidently this one is on record and cannot be denied.  The property for the City Hotel in New York City was bought on January 24, 1793.  It was the first building built to be a hotel in America.  At 73 rooms it was huge for the time, but then New York City already boasted a population of 30,000.  It was also the first building in the city with a slate roof.  Hotels have come a long way—some of them anyway.
About fifteen years ago, a music teacher friend and I attended a state level vocal competition in a small Florida town.  She was the state treasurer, the one who handed out checks to judges and scholarship winners.  I was the accompanist for two of the entrants.  When we tried to make our reservations, the one hotel in town, an old Southern relic complete with ceiling fans and rockers on a wood-planked front porch, was booked solid and had been for months.  Our only choice was the motel up by the interstate.  We did not expect much, given the name on the sign and the price, so we weren’t surprised when we quickly stopped by to deposit our bags and saw the size of the room in the gloom.  We had no time to inspect the premises or even turn on a light or open the shades.  We just dumped our bags and drove on to the competition.
              When we returned about ten o’clock that night, we almost left our things and fled, but there was no place to run to.  The parking lot had been empty at 5 pm, but now it was full of souped-up, high rise, four wheel drive pickups, their fenders caked with streaks of mud and their windows with dust.  Evidently their owners also found their rooms cramped, because it seemed like all of them were standing outside, laughing uproariously at one another’s jokes and adding to their flannel-clad beer bellies by the six pack, several of which they tossed around. 
              We actually had to pull in between two of those trucks, and all talking ceased as we left our car.  I have never been so thrilled with my regular accompanist’s attire—a plain, black, mid-calf dress with a high neck and long sleeves.  My friend wore a dressy business suit, and we were both on the wrong side of forty, so they let us pass without a word.  When we got inside, we locked the door, put a chair under the knob, and pinned those still closed draperies overlapped and shut. 
              Then we saw our room in the light for the first time.  You could barely get between the outside edge of each bed and its neighboring wall.  The rod for our hanging clothes was loose on one end, and couldn’t support the weight of even my one dress, much less it and her suit.  The soap was half the size of the usual motel sliver, and the bath towels more like hand towels.  The pipes rattled, the tub sported a rust streak the color and width of a lock of Lucy’s hair, and the carpet had so many stains it looked like a planned pattern.
              After we managed to shower in the tepid, anemic stream of water, we pulled down the sheets and my friend moaned, “Oh no.”  With some trepidation I approached her bed in my nightgown and heels—neither of us wanted to go barefoot and they were all I had—and there lying on her pillow was a long black hair.  Her hair was short and very blond, she being a Minnesotan by birth with a strong streak of Norse in her veins.  “Please tell me the maid lost this hair when she was putting on clean—very clean—sheets.”
              “Okay,” I muttered.  “The maid lost that hair when she was putting on clean—ultra clean and highly bleached—sheets.”
              When we got to bed, it wasn’t to sleep.  Not with the noise going on in the parking lot just outside our door or in the neighboring rooms.  The walls seemed as thin as tent walls.  We rose in the morning bleary-eyed and ready to leave as quickly as possible.  This place offered no “free breakfast” and we would not have eaten it if it had.  We promised one another that if we ever had to come back and couldn’t get a room in town, we would stay anywhere else, even if it meant a fifty mile drive, one way. 
              It was a horrible experience, but some of us offer one just like it to the Lord.
              For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, Eph 3:14-17.
              According to Paul, it takes effort to allow Christ to dwell in our hearts, enough that he prayed for them to have the strength to allow it.  Are you allowing it?  And if you are, what sort of accommodations are you offering him? 
              Making a welcoming environment for him may not happen overnight, especially if we are dealing with deep-seated habits or even addictions of one sort or another.  He understands that, but we must constantly be adjusting our behavior to suit him, not ourselves, putting his desires ahead of our own, becoming, in fact, a completely different person altogether.  Wherefore if any man is in Christ, [he is] a new creature: the old things are passed away; behold, they are become new, 2 Cor 5:17.
              But this isn’t just a problem for new Christians.  I have seen older Christians act as if Christ is nowhere nearby, much less dwelling in their hearts.  Their language, their fits of pique, their dress, their choice of entertainment, and the complete lack of spiritual nourishment they partake of starved him and ran him off a long time ago, and they don’t even seem to realize it.  What?  Do you really think he will stay in a flophouse instead of the four star hotel you should have offered him?
              What it all boils down to is a failure to live like we have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me, Gal 2:20.  Did you see that?  Allowing him to dwell in you (Eph 3:17) and living a new crucified life both happen “by faith.”  Even if you have been claiming to be a Christian for decades, if you are not living up to it, you do not have the faith required.  It doesn’t matter how many times you were dipped into a baptistery if nothing about you changed, or if you have gone back to that old way of life.
              What sort of room are you offering the Lord?  He spent a lot for it, and he will walk out if you don’t live up to the name on your sign—Christian.
 
Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves. Or do you not realize this about yourselves, that Jesus Christ is in you?—unless indeed you fail to meet the test! 2 Cor 13:5.
 
Dene Ward