Today's post is by Joanne Beckley in which she shares an essay by Lucy Green.

Whether it is a broken doll, lost good health, or the loss of a husband, we all must suffer great disappointments as we walk through this life here on earth. But I think for every married woman, it must be the loss of her husband that is her biggest challenge.
 
God knows this and has filled his Word with how we are to care for our widows and how the widow is to face her loss. Notice the numerous commands and admonitions: Deuteronomy 24:17-22; 25:5-10; Matthew 15:3; Eph 6:1; 1 Tim 5:4,14
 
But I want to shift this lesson away from our own responsibilities toward widows and focus on the widow herself. Whether married or unmarried, we all face the reality of living alone, now or in the future. But for the married, the death of a spouse carries additional pain and it is this pain that must be accepted and worked through.
 
Since I have yet to face this possible pain, I want to refer you to a short article by Lucy Greene. I came across it a number of years ago and thought it wise to file it away for the very real possibility that I too might find myself in her shoes. As you read this, you may even now be in her shoes. Hopefully this article can help you. I pray it is so.
 
“I became a widow twenty-two months ago. I say twenty-two months just like I did when my babies were little. You never have a twenty five month old, but up until that two year mark you count time in terms of months. Unlike having babies grow with those busy days passing quickly, these months have been an eternity.
 
I never wanted to be a widow, nor the pioneer widow of my peer group, but here I am. Even so, what I am learning and experiencing will smooth the way for those who come after me, though no individual journey is the same.
 
I want to grow older gracefully, but there’s been nothing graceful about the stages of grief that I’ve experienced. Some days I’ve felt at the mercy of unplanned and unexpected waves of emotion that come out of the blue and zap me at the most inconvenient moments. Sometimes it’s even been hard to pray. Somewhere on my journey, I was surprised to realize that I was indeed living in the past and missing the blessings of the present. Intellectually, I knew that was not a good way to live, but I hadn’t recognized it for what it was. My friend observed that I wasn’t letting go, and I thought about that deeply and seriously.
 
Treasuring the past and it’s memories, being thankful for our past blessings and relationships is right and important, but longing for what we no longer can have instead of looking for the joy and opportunities of TODAY is an exercise in futility, and does interfere with our aging gracefully. I am realizing that acceptance of one’s circumstance in life is a quality one must learn as we grow older. It puts us in a better frame of mind for facing so many of the less desirable outcomes of aging.
 
So many things are beyond our control and not the way that we had pictured them. Aging of our bodies, changing financial circumstances, passing of friends and relatives, changes in living arrangements--- to name a few. If we can accept physical appearance, aches and pains, poor health as we age and know that “though our outward man perish, the inward man is being renewed day by day,” (2 Corinthians 4:16) we can be serene when we look in the mirror or try to get up out of a chair. Dependence on God and trusting Him with the future is the key to acceptance. Paul said that he had learned to be content in whatever state he found himself (Philippians 4:11.)
 
Acceptance brings contentment. Contentment is defined as “an uncomplaining acceptance of one’s lot.” You might not like what’s happened to you, but accepting that situation says, “This is the way it is. It’s going to be OK. God will take care of me. I can live with this.” Hebrews 13:5 says, “Be content with such things as you have for he said, ‘I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee’.” In 1Timothy 6:6 we are told that godliness with contentment is great gain. May we adopt that thought as our goal as we strive to age gracefully."  Lucy Greene
 
Although I am not a widow, I can appreciate her pain, and her needs. I can be there for her, if she so desires. But where I may fail in my attempts, she will always have her Lord, her defender and friend.
 
Psalm 68:4 Sing to God, sing praises to His name; Extol Him who rides on the clouds by His name YAH, And rejoice before Him. 5 A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows, Is God in His holy habitation. 6 God sets the solitary in families; He brings out those who are bound into prosperity; But the rebellious dwell in a dry land.
 
The widow is not alone. She can accept her lot in life and find contentment in her Lord, facing forward with each new day.

Joanne Beckley

Twice already I have come close to being a widow, once at 42 and again at 48, and both times I said to myself, I’ll never gripe about picking up his socks again.  The very idea of being alone, especially that young, was terrifying.  At six and a half years his junior, statistics say it will happen, but I’m grateful for every day I have.  There’s something to be said for a good scare!

Those scares have also made me take more notice of widows than I did before.  Too often, those of us with families get too caught up in our own whirlwinds to care for these women as we ought.  In our culture, widows do not always need financial assistance—with insurance, pensions, and social security, many widows are not always indigent as they were in ancient times—but most widows in the world are still not so materially blessed. Beyond that, widows often need physical care because the majority of them are elderly.  And every widow needs the emotional and spiritual assistance we take for granted because we still have our husbands.  They may need trips to their various doctors, or, if they still drive, assistance with car care.  Often they need someone to take them shopping—which, as long as they can, is far superior to picking things up for them because it gets them out of the house and gives them a change in their routines.  But more, they need company.  They no longer have that one to whom we turn to share ideas, to get daily problems off our chest, to enjoy the beauty of a sunset or the thrill of a storm in the wee hours.  Widows are lonely in a way most of us will never understand until it happens to us.

Be aware:  God has a special place in his heart for the widow.  In fact, "widows and orphans" came to be a figure for all of those who are needy in one way or the other.  Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world (Jas 1:27).  Do you really think that if you only took care of widows and orphans and left the rest of the needy in need that your religion would be considered "pure and undefiled?"  Of course not.  They are a figure for the whole.  And get a load of these verses!

You shall not pervert the justice due to the sojourner or to the fatherless, or take a widow's garment in pledge, but you shall remember that you were a slave in Egypt and the LORD your God redeemed you from there; therefore I command you to do this (Deut 24:17-18).

Woe to those who decree iniquitous decrees, and the writers who keep writing oppression, to turn aside the needy from justice and to rob the poor of my people of their right, that widows may be their spoil, and that they may make the fatherless their prey!  (Isa 10:1-2).

You shall not wrong a sojourner or oppress him, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt. You shall not mistreat any widow or fatherless child. If you do mistreat them, and they cry out to me, I will surely hear their cry, and my wrath will burn, and I will kill you with the sword, and your wives shall become widows and your children fatherless (Exod 22:21-24).

I could go on and on for pages.  Maybe it is time to ask ourselves if we are neglecting those very people God made sure would be cared for in the Law, and today under the law of Christ.  (Yes, there is such a thing, Gal 6:2).  My next two posts come from women who have been there.  Perhaps they will make us all more aware of our duty to all those in need, whether they look that way or not--strong people have a way of hiding their feelings.  Being too busy is never an excuse for ignoring the will of God.  And I also hope that they will help those widows among us who are struggling to cope.  Two of your sisters are willing to bare their souls to help you.
 
Then I will draw near to you for judgment. I will be a swift witness against the sorcerers, against the adulterers, against those who swear falsely, against those who oppress the hired worker in his wages, the widow and the fatherless, against those who thrust aside the sojourner, and do not fear me, says the LORD of hosts (Mal 3:5).
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.
 
John 3:22-24  "After this, Jesus and his disciples went into the Judean countryside. He spent some time there with them and began baptizing.  John was also baptizing in Aenon, near Salim, because there was plenty of water there. People kept coming and were being baptized, since John had not yet been thrown into prison."
         After His interview with Nicodemus, Jesus took His disciples and went out into the Judean countryside to preach the good news.  John was also preaching, at Aenon.  Most modern maps try to place this, but all indicate that they aren't sure exactly where it was.  The only consensus seems to be that it was NOT in Judea.  So, John and Jesus were not together when they taught.
 
John 3:25-26  "Now a discussion arose between some of John's disciples and a Jew over purification.  And they came to John and said to him, 'Rabbi, he who was with you across the Jordan, to whom you bore witness—look, he is baptizing, and all are going to him.'"
         At first glance it seems odd that John never tells us exactly what the dispute was and how or why it so affected the Baptizer's disciples.  Upon consideration, however, one wonders if it isn't very clear.  They argued about purification, or washing, and then complained to John that everyone was going after Jesus' baptism -- instead of John's.  The argument seems to have been about the relative worth of each baptism.  John's disciples were left shaken and upset; outraged for John and confused in themselves.  Everyone was following Jesus and John was being forgotten.

John 3:27-30  "John answered, “A person cannot receive even one thing unless it is given him from heaven.  You yourselves bear me witness, that I said, ‘I am not the Christ, but I have been sent before him.’  The one who has the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom's voice. Therefore this joy of mine is now complete.  He must increase, but I must decrease.” 
         John's response is a marvel of humility and faith in God.  In saying that we can't receive anything unless it is given from heaven, John is calming his disciples by reminding them that this is all according to God's plan.  He reminds them that he has said all along that someone greater was coming and now there is someone greater here.  This is not a cause for alarm, but rejoicing which leads to his next statement.  In this micro-parable John paints a familiar scene:  a wedding.  None of the groomsmen are jealous of the bride, instead they are just happy for the groom.  John was not the leading man in the drama of his life.  After his short role was over he wasn't even able to share the spotlight, but John was happy to play his role for the glory of another.  "He must increase, but I must decrease."  Surely this is self-sacrificing service.

         God's plan for us is not guaranteed to bring us fame and recognition here on earth.  Maybe the best way for us to serve is by helping to care for the ill and needy:  making phone calls, sending cards, preparing meals, doing chores for those who can't for themselves and just sitting and talking to those whose illnesses have left them shut in, alternately weeping or rejoicing with them.  None of this is as showy as preaching or leading the singing, but it is often more important and impactful in making our churches into familes. 

Matt. 11:11  "Truly, I say to you, among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist."
         Elijah and Elisha raised the dead, preached to kings, commanded the weather, and stopped armies cold.  Daniel saw visions of centuries of future history and the coming kingdom.  Isaiah saw God on His throne and His Messiah coming.  Great as all these men were, as showy as their service was, none were greater than John, who in his humble service proclaimed the Lord's message and then quietly stepped out of the spotlight. 
         Am I willing to submerge my life -- my plans, dreams, hopes -- into quiet, unnoticed service to God?  Are you?
 
John 3:31  "He who comes from above is above all."
 
Lucas Ward

The older I get, the more I appreciate the quiet men in the pews, the ones who seldom speak up, whose opinions are usually kept to themselves or to just the one or two who make it a point to speak with them more than the customary, “How are you today?”
          We, who suppose that we “judge righteous judgment,” are, like the Pharisees, just as bad as anyone else about the things we claim to detest, in this case, judging.  If a brother seldom speaks in Bible class, he didn’t study his lesson, right?  Or his heart isn’t in his worship.  If I stop at another congregation when I am out of town and the singing isn’t loud, and the prayers have a lot of common phrases in them, and the preaching isn’t dynamic, then they are the worst excuse for a church I’ve ever seen.  So much for “righteous judgment.”
            The more I study the scriptures, the more I see quiet people living lives that would be considered normal in their day and time.  I don’t mean they would not have been different in their words and actions than the godless pagan they might live next to—I mean great deeds and feats of faith and bravery were not their claim to fame.  They simply lived to and with their God every day, making choices based upon their belief in Him, talking about His promises in casual conversation, assuming as a given that their hope was not baseless.
            When was the last time any one of us had to choose between death and serving God?  I know some places where that may be the case, but no one in this country has faced that trial, and I am the first to thank God for that and pray that it continue.  Does that make me a sorry excuse for a Christian?  Maybe that’s why so many think they must raise a ruckus about everything—they have to show their “faith” in some sort of blatant manner, instead of being satisfied—and grateful—that they can live a life of steady devotion day after day after routine day.  Sometimes that quiet steadiness takes a lot more strength, and certainly more endurance, than one quick flash in the pan act of courage.
            So here’s to the ordinary Christian.  He loves his wife “as his own body,” serves her faithfully, even when the years have diminished her outward beauty and increased her outward girth. 
            He trains his children, not just about God, but about being a man.  He teaches them how to work, how to play, and how to survive in an unfriendly world.  He shows them patience and mercy, the traits His Heavenly Father showed him.
            He works for his employer “as unto the Lord,” giving the boss no need to worry about his stealing either the business’s supplies or time--a day’s work for a day’s pay, and the willingness to throw in some unremunerated extra time and effort simply because it’s needed.
            He sees to the good of his neighbors, offering a helping hand, the loan of equipment, the gift of sharing good things that have come his way.  He shows them the Lord he serves in the way he treats them.
            He handles the trials of life, not as if they make him special and deserving, but as if they happen to all, knowing he deserves even worse for his part in the sin that contaminated the world.  He never allows them to affect his faith in God or his desire to serve that God.  He simply keeps on going, like that famous bunny.
            And so he may not talk a lot.  He may not jump up and down and raise his hands high in the air.  He may not be caught shedding a tear during a song or a prayer.  But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t mean every word of what he sings or prays, or have deep feelings of love and gratitude, and shame on anyone who judges otherwise.  Jacob worshipped, leaning on his staff, we are told in Heb 11:21.  What?  No hallelujahs?  I wonder how some today might have judged that.
            In fact, a whole church full of such men might not rise to the ideal for some who need outward show to “get anything out of” the worship.  What makes them think they are better than another who can motivate himself with his own quiet, inward thoughts?  Isn’t it a good thing, that Someone Else is doing the judging? 
            As to that “ordinary Christian,” he isn’t really very ordinary at all.
 
…for man looks on the outward appearance, but Jehovah looks on the heart, 1 Sam 16:7.
 
Dene Ward
 

In a study of faith I did, I found this passage:  I made supplication for you that your faith fail not…Luke 22:32.  I looked up “fail” and found this Greek word, ekleipo. 
            I’ll have to admit—I saw nothing at first.  Finally I looked up other uses of the word and found, just a page over in my Bible, Luke 23:45:  the sun’s light failing.  The context was the crucifixion when, according to the verse just above that one, darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour.    
            “Aha!” my feeble brain said, “an eclipse,”--ekleipo.  The light of the sun failed because something overshadowed it.  Now how do I use that in my study of faith “failing?”
            Twenty years ago I woke up with what I thought was an earache.  I called the doctor and he prescribed an antibiotic.  The next morning some of the ache was gone, but enough remained for me to discover the true source of the pain—it was a tooth.  I had developed an abscess and the pain had simply radiated to my ear, but the medication at least knocked it back to its original source. This time I called the dentist and left a message.  It was late on a Friday afternoon and I needed to see someone before the weekend. 
            By that time, nearly 48 hours into this, I was moaning on the couch, totally unable to function.  I hadn’t even thought about dinner, much less started cooking it, even though I expected Keith home within the hour.  I hadn’t finished putting the clean sheets on the bed, or washed any dishes all day long.  I hadn’t accomplished any bookkeeping, or filled out the forms that were soon due for my students to enter State Contest.  Nothing mattered but that aching tooth and the sore lump now swelling on my jaw line.
            A few minutes later the phone rang, and I eagerly snatched it up, expecting a dental assistant.  It was an ex-Little League coach of my sons’.  Keith had suffered something resembling a seizure while riding his bike the thirteen miles home from work, and was lying right in front of his house, in the middle of the rural highway. 
            “The ambulance just arrived,” he said.  “I think if you hurry, you can be here before it leaves.”
            What do you think I did?  Lie back down and moan some more?  I was out of that house in a flash and did indeed beat the ambulance’s departure for the hospital.  I sat in that hospital for five days. 
            You can think your faith is important to you.  You can think you would never let anything “eclipse” it.  You can be positive that you are strong enough to handle the most intense trial or the most powerful temptation.  You can be absolutely wrong.
            I have seen men who stood for the faith against the ridicule of false teachers commit adultery.  I have seen women who diligently withstood the long trial of caring for a sick mate become bitter against everyone who ever tried to help them, and ultimately against God himself.  I have seen families who were called “pillars of the church” leave that very group when one of their own fell and was chastised. 
            Look to that passage I found:  I made supplication for you that your faith fail not.  Jesus was speaking to Peter, who subsequently declared, “I am ready to go both to prison and to death,” but not many hours later, denied the Lord when those very things confronted him.  He was not prepared, and his faith was eclipsed by fear.
            Just as surely as my worry over my husband’s health totally eclipsed a very real and intense pain in my physical body, just as certainly as fear eclipsed the faith of a man like Peter, the events of life can eclipse your faith, causing it to fail.  Carnal emotions can overshadow you—lust, bitterness, resentment, hurt feelings among them.  It’s up to us to keep those things in their proper place, to allow nothing to detract from our faith in a God who promises that none of those things really matter because of the spiritual nature of the life to come.  It is, in fact, up to us to be spiritually minded, instead of carnally minded, to put the physical in the shade and let the light of the Truth shine on the spiritual.
            With a spiritual mind-set, nothing can eclipse your faith.  Your faith should, in fact, eclipse everything else.
 
 If then you were raised together with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated on the right hand of God. Set your mind on the things that are above, not on the things that are upon the earth. For you died, and your life is hid with Christ in God, Colossians 3:1-3.                                                                                           
 
Dene Ward

     At the rented house on the shore over in Gulf Breeze, Florida, we enjoyed sitting by the bay watching the pelicans on the pilings nearby.  One morning our son called out, "Mom bring the binoculars!"  So I dutifully brought those glasses that I keep handy even more than ever these days, and stepped out onto the stone patio lining the bank.  "Look out by the pelicans in the water," he urged.
     I did as directed, watching the half dozen pelicans that had left their manmade perches and dropped into the water.  It was obvious what they were doing.  The water around them roiled with activity beneath the surface and the birds constantly poked their whole heads under, coming up with fish after fish.  Then suddenly I saw what he wanted me to see—fins!  A small pod of dolphins had joined the fray, surfacing here and there for a breath, eating alongside the pelicans. 
     I wondered about that.  Here they were right beside one another, in fact, the pelicans often swam between and around the surfacing fins.  One set of eaters was avian and the other mammalian.  One set was considerably larger.  One could descend several feet and the other only float.  Yet they never got in one another's way, never fought over a fish, and never even swam away in fright.  They got along and everyone ate their fill.
     Even these days, when so many seem to think we have finally been enlightened, we have trouble doing those things.  Sometimes it's race, sometimes it's nationality, sometimes it's even which part of the country you hail from.   Sometimes it's how much money you make and which neighborhood you live in.  To our shame, sometimes it's politics.  Yet we have so much more in common than a pelican and a dolphin.  One has fins, the other wings.  If they were humans, my experience tells me that would be enough to fight about.  What is wrong with us?
     Here is what matters:  We are all sinners depending upon the grace of God.  We all rely upon a God who emptied Himself and became a Jewish man, a carpenter, blue collar at best, who died on our behalf.  We are all saved because He rose from the dead and offered us a way to do the same.
      Some of us are pelicans and some are dolphins, but it really doesn't matter which is which.  Let's all just get along, eat our fill when we assemble, and help one another along the way, because none of us is better than the other in any form or fashion.

For you are all sons of God, through faith, in Christ Jesus. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ did put on Christ. There can be neither Jew nor Greek, there can be neither bond nor free, there can be no male and female; for you all are one man in Christ Jesus. And if you are Christ's, then are you Abraham's seed, heirs according to promise (Gal 3:26-29).

Dene Ward

It’s another summer morning in Florida.  Nine o’clock, 78 degrees, yet before you have taken ten steps outside your skin begins to prickle in that way it does just before a sweat breaks out, and your hair begins to wilt or kink, depending upon its natural state of curl or uncurl.  The trees are dripping so that it sounds like rain on the metal carport roofing, and the hazy air is thick enough with humidity to drown you if you breathe too quickly.  The damp ground smells loamy, and in places a little sour.  A film of perspiration has already formed over your lips and your shirt feels like it came out of the dryer five minutes too soon. 
            If you stay out longer than a few minutes, the only word that truly describes how you feel is “nasty.”  Sweaty, greasy, grimy, sandy, and swarming with gnats and yellow flies.  As uncomfortable as it is, I still try to get all my yard work done then, before the temperature rises to match the humidity and the sub-tropical sun beats on you as mercilessly as an Egyptian taskmaster.  I spray the underside of my garden hat brim with Off and don my work out clothes.  No need messing up something else with gray grime that will never come out once you have soaked them in the righteous sweat of labor, for dripping with it you will be.
            This morning I spent the time in the raised bed around the trellises.  With a wetter summer than we have had in years, the weeds grow more thickly than the grass and flowers.  I weed one bed, and the next week it looks like I haven’t touched it in a month.  So I went around pulling out grass sprigs, dollarweed, castor beans, and half a dozen oak trees.
            You read that right—oak trees.  I am not Mrs. Paul Bunyan—none of those discarded oak trees were over 6 inches tall.  Some of them even had the acorn still attached to the roots when I pulled it out of the ground.  It was easy.  One quick rip and up they came.  Pulling up trees is simple when you get them at six inches.  Even waiting till they are a foot tall makes a significant difference in how difficult it is to uproot them.
            Yet isn’t that what we do in our lives?  We wait till the soap scum is flaky gray and a quarter inch thick before we get out the scrub brush, when a two minute wipe each week would save us twenty minutes of elbow grease every month.  We wait till the fat rolls over our waistbands, when losing five pounds every six months would save us the agony of an 800 calorie a day diet for a year to lose thirty.  We wait till our lives are falling apart, when realigning ourselves a quarter inch every day would have kept the Devil at bay.
            Isn’t it time to wise up a little?  Isn’t it time to do a little work to save the pain that results from neglect? 
            Have a conversation with God every day, throughout the day, while you wash those dishes or walk the dog or trim the hedges.  When something serious arises and you really need the help, you won’t have to wonder if He’ll be there for you or if He gave up on you long ago.  (He does do that, you know, give up on people, Jer 11:11; 14:12; Ezek 8:18; Mic 3:4; Zech 7:13, etc.).
            Start reading your Bible now, a little every day, adding some serious and diligent study as you go along, learning some good study techniques from those who know them and want so badly to share.  Then when your neighbor asks you a question, you just might be able to answer him, instead of standing there like a fool, red with embarrassment.
            Begin working on those problems you have, the ones that nag you day after day.  Make a plan and begin to weed the sin out of your life like a six inch oak tree.  If it becomes the behemoth that stands over your house, you will never get rid of it, but the Devil will be more than happy to take advantage of the shade.
 
…looking carefully lest there be any man that fall short of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you, and thereby the many be defiled; Hebrews 12:15.
 
Dene Ward

“Popular indicators suggest that evangelicalism’s unique moral and theological inheritance has been traded for a bowlful of spiritual junk food that feeds the contemporary appetite. American culture now carries more weight than revelation on a broad range of issues from ethics to beliefs. The prevalence of adultery and divorce—even among nationally known figures—no longer startles. Consumer research and related techniques increasingly supplant Scripture’s analysis of the church’s and believers’ responsibilities…
"The old theological standards have collapsed. Theologically central beliefs—such as God’s judgment on sin, the unity and sole authority of Scripture, and salvation only through personal trust in Christ—are no longer defining…The incessant refrains of our contemporary ideology, ‘everyone is entitled to his opinion’ and ‘let’s not judge,’ fill the evangelical academy. The Augustinian insight that all truth is God’s truth…has been deconstructed to mean that any sincere religious person’s perception of truth is probably God’s truth.”

Timothy R. Phillips and Dennis L. Okholm, The Nature of Confession: Evangelicals & Postliberals in Conversation (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1996), 8, via Steve Wolfgang.

Don't think it hasn't infiltrated the church—dw.
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     Our older son lives in the panhandle of Florida where he preaches for a small church.  Although he has an apartment of his own, he also has a roommate.  That means that when we go to visit we can either stay in a hotel or rent a house.  When you consider that we can cook our own meals in the house, that makes it a much more economical choice than it looks like at first.  With the inflation of the past four years, even fast food will set three people back about $35.00, and fast food won't do three times a day, for your health especially.
     We have found a beautiful house that sits right on the bay.  The kitchen is well-stocked for cooking and the great room includes things like a bumper pool table, an arcade game and a cabinet full of classic board games like checkers and chess, Clue, and Sorry.  Outside, a small wooden structure holds floats and other swimming apparatus, and a corn hole game nearly spans the house-wide veranda.  We often grill in the large fire pit next to the water, or simply sit there with our last cup of coffee in the morning watching the waves, the boats, and especially the pelicans.
     The house includes a dock that juts a good fifty yards out into the bay.  The pilings of another pier stand a couple houses down to the west, the dock itself having blown away in a hurricane some time ago.  Every morning pelicans fly in to the pilings.  Probably a leftover notion from my birdwatching in North Florida, I count the pelicans every morning.  The first morning I counted 35.  The second I saw 41 perching on the posts.  The third morning we hit the jackpot with 54!  Every so often one drops into the water to bathe, to eat, or just to relax and float peacefully, I suppose, but soon they flap their wings a time or two and up they rise to their personal seat above the warm bay water.
     The fourth morning, I only counted 9.  Uh-oh, I thought.  What happened?  All morning long I fretted about those silly birds.  Gradually the count rose until there were once again over thirty, but we never again hit that jackpot number, and we never knew what had happened.  Of course, it isn't about the number—it's about wondering what happened.
     That's the way it should be among us.  When we see an empty pew, it's not about numbers.  It's not about being able to brag about the attendance on one of those ubiquitous wooden boards with the white on black numbers.  But those do serve to remind us that we need to check on some people.  Many of us habitually sit in one certain pew.  For us it's so this half blind woman can see more, and her profoundly deaf husband can read lips.  Some people want to find fault with those who sit in the same place every time, but perhaps they shouldn't judge.  And, one good thing about sitting in the same place--it makes it much easier to see who is missing, to wonder why, and to be concerned.  If we aren't using that benefit, it's time we wake up.  In our new congregation, I have noticed that when anyone is missing any time at all, the cry goes up at announcement time, "Do we know where they are?"  No one will be able to simply slip away with that kind of care.
     If you think you can have a personal relationship with God and your Lord Jesus without having a relationship with others, you are sadly mistaken.  The church is not a placeholder as so many theologians claim.  God planned it before the foundation of the world, (Eph 3:10,11).  It's the place He meant for His people to dwell with one another and with Him—the new Temple (2:19-22).  He has given us so many "one another commandments" I cannot possibly list them all in this short essay.  Love one another, pray for one another, exhort one another, edify one another, encourage one another—and that is not the half.  Do we think we can ignore these commands and He will be happy with us, and more to the point, how can we possibly do those things when we have no contact with one another?  How can we possibly be pleasing to Him when we disobey and excuse it with our assurance that we know better than He does about what we or others need? 
     I worried that week when I saw an empty piling.  We should worry much more when we see an empty pew.  Someone is missing the spiritual nourishment they need.  If you aren't counting pelicans, how in the world will you know who needs you?

And we exhort you, brethren, admonish the disorderly, encourage the fainthearted, support the weak, be longsuffering toward all. See that none render unto any one evil for evil; but always follow after that which is good, one toward another, and toward all (1Thess 5:14-15).

And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and good works (Heb 10:24).

Dene Ward

Men seem to have a problem with prepositions.  Keith, for example, mixes up “in” with “over,” “on,” “at,” and “beside.”  When he takes anything out of a drawer, his idea of putting it back is to put it on the counter over the drawer, rather than in the drawer.  In the morning, he leaves the cough drop wrappers on the floor beside the bed, rather than putting them in the trash can.  When he undresses, he throws his clothes at or on the hamper, rather than putting them in it. 
            I could accept that this is just a “man thing” except for this:  this same man makes Biblical arguments about prepositions every day.  The best explanation to me is that we all see what we want to see instead of what is really there, and hear what we want to hear instead of what was really said.
            Many of my friends have the same problem.  They want to live as “good” people and think that Christ and the church have absolutely nothing to do with their salvation.  The Bible, on the other hand, says that “in Christ” we have redemption (Rom 3:24), the love of God (Rom 8:39), sanctification (1 Cor 1:2), grace (2 Tim 2:1), and salvation (2 Tim 2:10).  Not out of Christ, but in.  Which of those things are you willing to do without?
            Baptism is for the remission of sins (Acts 2:38), not after or because of, and we are baptized into one body (1 Cor 12:13) not on a convenient Sunday nor because we were voted in.
            Some of my brethren have a similar problem.  They think that sitting on a pew is what makes us in Christ.  Yet the scriptures they quote every Sunday tell them that “in Christ” we are new creatures (2 Cor 5:17), created for good works (Eph 2:10).  Not only that but we must prove we are in the faith and we do that by showing Christ in us (2 Cor 13:5), following in his footsteps in those good works (1 Pet 2:21).  We prove we are sound in the faith by the way we live our lives every day (Titus 1:10-2:13).
            Prepositions are not that difficult and they do matter.  Do you want to eat dinner at the table or under it?  Do you want to take a shower in the bathroom or out of it?  Do you want to sleep on the bed or beside it?  Do you want your wife to feed you breakfast in bed or on the bed (where she threw it at you because you obviously do not understand prepositions!)?  See?  All it takes is a little honesty with ourselves, enough to see beyond our biases, beyond “what I’ve always heard,” beyond “what mama said,” and you can make the same changes that those people of the first century did—pagans who before lived lives of sin without giving it a second thought, who had no concept of monotheism, who had to change every aspect of their lives, even to the point of bringing persecution upon themselves and their families, and many times death. 
            Maybe that’s the problem.  We are simply not that honest, brave, or sincere in our devotion to God and a Savior who gave up everything for us.  We want to throw the clothes at the hamper and say to God, “See how much I love you?”
            Let me tell you something—He ain’t buyin’ it.
 
Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself up for it; that he might sanctify it, having cleansed it by the washing of water with the word, that he might present the church to himself a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish. Ephesians 5:25-27
 
Thanks to Keith for being such a good sport about this one!
Dene Ward