We are well over a thousand now—and counting.  I have been writing up these little things so long I can’t watch something happen without thinking the phrase above.  In fact, more than once Keith and I have looked at one another after some oddball event and said it in unison: “There oughtta be a devo in that.”

            “Go to the ant, thou sluggard.  Consider her ways and be wise,” Solomon wrote.  “Look at the birds,” Jesus said, and, “Consider the lilies.”  Both of them taught valuable lessons from the things around them.  The parables were nothing more than every day occurrences with analogous meanings.  Parables were not uncommon in the Old Testament either, and many of the prophets taught lessons with the visual aids of their own lives or actions.  Hosea and Ezekiel come instantly to mind.

            Even the writers of the New Testament used athletic contests, farming truisms, and anatomical allegories to teach us what we need to know about our relationship with God, with one another, and in our homes and communities.  Telling stories is a time-honored and perfectly scriptural way of teaching God’s word.

            In fact, maybe if we started looking at the world that way, at the things that happen in our daily lives as if they had some meaning beyond the mundane, some deeper spiritual use, it might just be that our lives would change for the better.  It might be easier to see where we need to grow, maybe a place we need to make a one-eighty before we get much further down the road.  There is something about watching a dumb animal and thinking, “I didn’t even have that much sense,” that will straighten out your attitude.

            If I have done nothing else for you in all these years, maybe I have accomplished this.  Maybe you have learned to look at the things around you and say, “There IS a devo in that—I need to make a change.”
 
But ask the beasts, and they will teach you; the birds of the heavens, and they will tell you; or the bushes of the earth, and they will teach you; and the fish of the sea will declare to you. Who among all these does not know that the hand of the LORD has done this? Job 12:7-9.
 
Dene Ward

But the LORD hurled a great wind upon the sea, and there was a mighty tempest on the sea, so that the ship threatened to break up. Then the mariners were afraid, and each cried out to his god. And they hurled the cargo that was in the ship into the sea to lighten it for them. But Jonah had gone down into the inner part of the ship and had lain down and was fast asleep. So the captain came and said to him, “What do you mean, you sleeper? Arise, call out to your god! Perhaps the god will give a thought to us, that we may not perish” Jonah 1:4-6.

            From what I’ve heard all my life, you’d think that the “big fish” in Jonah is the only thing worth talking about.  Our prophets class has found far more and this is just a quick overview class, nothing as detailed as verse by verse.

            The passage above may not be the first lesson we garnered from Jonah, but it is one we need more than we realize.  Here is Jonah, the only Jew, the only member of God’s covenant people, on this boat as a mighty storm threatens to engulf it and take them all to a watery grave, and he is the only one not praying.  In fact, a heathen captain has to take him to task to get him started.

            Have you ever been embarrassed by the zeal of a “heathen” friend or neighbor when that zeal should have come from you first?  Have you ever fallen to pieces while one of them calmly said, “Let’s pray about this,” and did?  Have you ever related a wonderful occurrence in your life without once mentioning the goodness of God only to have someone else “give God the glory” with every other word?  Have you ever had your door knocked on by someone looking to convert a soul when you have never even invited a friend to services?  We are Jonah, folks, far too many times.

            I would blame it on such a fervent desire to avoid false doctrine that we pushed the pendulum much too far.  I would do that except for this—nowadays I am not even sure we know which “false doctrine” we are trying to avoid.  It has simply become tradition.  We don’t do anything to call attention to ourselves, nor to God for that matter.  We want to be quiet and comfortable, certainly not “out there” with our religion, and so our God is not praised nor thanked nor acknowledged when He should be.  “We don’t do that,” I’ve heard it said.  And I, for one, would like to know why.

            None of those things is foreign to the scriptures.  You find all of them abounding in the epistles and saturating the Psalms.  God is everywhere.  What He does is always mentioned.  He is the reason for praise, for fear, for awe, and He expects us to acknowledge it. 

            Why didn’t Jonah do so?  Because he was trying to get away from God.  He was trying to avoid his mission.  He had God placed in a box in a town in a covenant land and thought if he got far enough away, God would forget about him. 

            Is that why we do it?  Are we trying to avoid God everywhere except the church building?  Is it far more comfortable to hide ourselves with silence than to proclaim our faith?   
When the world can shame my faith, can I even keep calling it that?
 
Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths, Prov 3:5-6.
 
Dene Ward

Before he was a year old, Silas started talking.  Sometimes I knew what he was saying and sometimes I didn’t.  For some reason he said, “Bear,” over and over and over.  He and another toddler at church carried on quite a conversation across the aisle with just that one word.  But there was no question at all what he meant when he looked across the room, spied Brooke, then smiled, held out both arms and said, “Mamamamamamama,” as he toddled across the floor.  No, he was not saying, “Mama.”  He was saying, “There is the most important person in the world.”  Then he looked at Nathan, pointed to the ceiling and said, “Up!”  No, that didn’t mean, “Pick me up.”  It meant, “Throw me up in the air as high as you can,” something he loved for his daddy to do.

            Mothers can decode better than anyone.  When Lucas was eleven months old, he had already been walking five or six weeks.  He often padded to the refrigerator, hung on to the door, and said, “Dee.”  That meant, “I want a drink, please.”  Nathan, at thirteen months, would hold out his biscuit half and say, “Buuuuh.”  (Pronounce that like the word “burr” but without the “r,” and draw the “u” out as long as possible.)  That meant, “Please put more butter on my biscuit so I can lick it off again.”  Needless to say, he only got a little dab of butter at a time.

            Marriages have special codes too.  “Are you wearing that?” could mean a lot of different things, depending upon the marriage.  In some it means, “I don’t like that outfit.”  In ours it means, “Oh, so I guess I can’t wear my blue jeans, huh?”  Relationships may be about communication, but that does not mean they are about hearing; they are about knowing what the words you hear mean.  Sometimes people decide they mean what they want them to mean instead of what they really do mean, and that can lead to all sorts of problems.

            Jesus is a specialist in decoding our words.  “He who searches the reins and the hearts” (Rev 2:23) can figure it out, no matter how awkwardly we phrase things.  We don’t have to worry about being eloquent in our prayers, about saying something that might be misunderstood or taken the wrong way.  People may do that, but our Lord never will.  He partook of humanity so he would understand the stresses we undergo and the turmoil they create in our minds.  He knows that things sometimes come out wrong, not because we are selfish or mean, but because we are anxious and distressed.  Isn’t that when we find ourselves talking to Him the most?

            Make a relationship with Him that will calm your worries.  Know that He is listening to your heart, not the inept words you sometimes utter.  Don’t worry about eloquence, just talk.  Let your prayers be a comfort to you today, not another source of worry.  That’s how a real relationship works.
 
Who shall lay anything to the charge of God’s elect? It is God who justifies, who is he who condemns?  It is Christ Jesus who died, yes rather, who was raised from the dead, who is at the right hand of God, who also makes intercession for us…For there is one God, one mediator between God and man, himself man, Christ Jesus, Rom 8:33,34; 1 Tim 2:5.
 
Dene Ward

I was checking my stats last month.  It is helpful to know which posts receive the most pageviews, the most shares, and the most likes.  It is instructive to see which days of the week are most active and which are least.  It’s just plain interesting to see where my referrals come from—some strange places sometimes, real head-scratchers, but even accidental evangelism is evangelism I suppose.
 
           So in all that checking I discovered that on November 16, 2015, I had someone “unlike” a page, which I suppose means they had liked it in the first place and then changed their minds.  I think I must have hit a nerve.  Can I just say this at the beginning?  None of these posts is meant to make people angry.  I appreciate being challenged as a Christian.  I want to improve.  I simply assume that if you are bothering to read these, you do too.

            Why is it that people don’t realize what they are revealing about themselves when, as the old saying goes, “The hit dog howls?”  If the preacher’s sermon is about gossip and I become angry and show it, isn’t it obvious that I bear some guilt over that subject? 

            And here’s a novel idea—if someone steps on your toes, how about moving them?  A long time ago when I was young and extremely naïve, I actually thought that when you showed someone they were doing something wrong, they would quit doing it, especially brethren.  Now I know better. Only a few will take that high road.  Everyone else will find fault with you, tell others how mean you are, sometimes even spread lies about what you supposedly did to them.  Yes, even Christians—I use the term loosely.  Have I become your enemy then by telling you the truth? Paul asked the Galatians (4:16).  Evidently the answer is yes to some, unfortunately to many.

            And this is what they tell people about themselves:  Give instruction to a wise man and he will be still wiser; teach a righteous man and he will increase in learning, Prov 9:9.  Becoming angry over correction means a person is neither wise nor righteous, which is what that November post was all about.

            Which brings us full circle, and for all I know, will get me “unliked” again.  I guess we’ll see.
 
Let a righteous man strike me—it is a kindness; let him rebuke me—it is oil for my head; let my head not refuse it…Ps 141:5.
 
Dene Ward

I have learned a lot of things over the years, among them these:  No matter how well you keep your house, the morning that you get busy with something early on and decide to finish before you dress and do the usual morning chores, will always be the morning the neighbor stops by and finds you still in your bathrobe at 11, the breakfast dishes scattered over the countertop, and the bed unmade—and the more you try to explain that this is unusual for you, the more unbelievable you will sound.  When someone tells you a joke you don’t “get,” you will suddenly comprehend the punch line and laugh raucously the next morning while standing at the checkout behind a woman who has just told the cashier that her mother has a terminal illness.  And your baby will always choose the moment after the preacher reads Hab 2:20, Jehovah is in His holy temple, let all the earth keep silence before Him, to fill his diaper as noisily as possible. 

            Part of learning how to live is learning how to cope with annoyances and embarrassments on an every day basis, realizing that you are not the only one this happens to.

            So why do we let disappointments ruin our faith so easily?  Yes, the church is God’s perfect institution, but as long as it is filled with people like you and me, it will not always behave itself perfectly.  Even the chosen twelve had a Judas among them.  Even the first Christians had a couple like Ananias and Sapphira, who gave for the praise they would receive rather than from a heart of love.  Even the first church had instances of social bias that caused uproar over the care of widows.  Yet they got over it, continuing to work and grow by leaps and bounds.  Why can’t we?

            It is good to have ideals, but be realistic as well.  God will never disappoint you, but His people will.  Until you can present to them a perfect example of righteousness, don’t expect them to do so for you.  Rather, understand that we are all growing together.

            Someone someday will lie about you, perhaps even a Christian.  Realize this—most of the time they don’t even know they are lying.  For some reason or other their attitude of depression or bitterness at that moment has put a winding road in their ear canals that twists everything they hear into something hurtful.  By the time they tell someone else what they “heard,” they really think that is exactly what you said.  You know what?  It won’t kill you.  People who know you (or the other person) will either dismiss the comment entirely or ask you about it, giving you a chance to set the record straight.  Anyone who believes it has their own problems to deal with.  In ten years, no one will care, because no one will remember.  I know.  These days it only costs me one night of sleep instead of a year’s worth of worry.  Progress!

            Stop expecting perfection where there is none.  Stop blaming God for the sins of His children.  Remember to whom you were converted—to the Lord, and not to a group of forgiven sinners who sometimes backslide.  Learn not to expect more than you can deliver yourself.  It’s a whole lot easier on your faith.
 
And he said unto his disciples, It is impossible but that occasions of stumbling should come; but woe unto him, through whom they come...For there must be also factions among you, that they that are approved may be made manifest among you. Luke 17:11; 1 Cor 11:19.
 
Dene Ward

Today’s post is by guest writer Keith Ward.
 
This morning as we snuggled, trying not to wake up and get up, my ear itched.  This happens more often for me than the average person because the hearing aids I wear 16 hours a day keep my ears from drying out properly so molds and mildews and other unpleasant things find a healthy habitat (for them).  I usually treat the itch with the old swimmers’ ear mixture of half & half alcohol and vinegar before it becomes an infection.  As I started to scratch my ear canal, I had a sudden insight.  When I told Dene, she said, “What?” and when I replied, “My ear itched and I scratched it and thought of Hebrews 10…”  That incongruity struck her funny bone and she laughed till the bed shook. I was so miffed that I did not tell her about it for 2 or 3 hours.

[Disclosure: This may prove there is a short-circuit in my brain instead of providing spiritual insight.]

Heb 10:5 quotes Psa 40:6 “Sacrifice and offering thou would not, but a body did thou prepare for me.” Instead of, “a body…” Psa 40 reads, “Mine ears thou hast opened” and the margin says, “Literally, ‘Ears thou hast digged for me.’ ”


Metonomy is the metaphor where a part of something is used instead of the whole, and we use it all the time.  “He’d give the shirt off his back” is not limited to clothing, much less to shirts.  Other such expressions are “a roof over my head” or, with pride, “There are my wheels,” (referring to a car).

So scholars have long recognized that in the Psalm, “ears” represents the whole body and the Spirit so interprets it by the quotation in Heb 10:5.  The insight as I dug in my ear to scratch the itch is, why did God choose “ear” to represent “body” instead of some other part such as feet or hands?

In the context of Hebrews 10, the Spirit had just pointed out that the blood of bulls and goats could not take away sins, and the next point is that Jesus is perfect to be the once-for-all sacrifice because he came to do the will of the Father.  As we learn earlier in the book, he is the perfect sacrifice and the perfect intercessor because he was made in all things like his brethren (Heb 2:17).  He did not come as a voice to command as the Son of God; he did not come as a mighty arm to rule with power, he came as ears to hear and to obey God and thus, to understand what it is to be a man so he could succor those who are tempted.
 
So, if He is to call us brethren, we must be like him, ears (Heb 2:11).   In this sense of a proper subservience toward God, it is appropriate that the whole body be an ear, for there is no place for speaking or seeing (1 Cor 12:17). 
 
Further, Jesus never commanded men: no armies, no servants.  He called, he instructed, he did not judge.  He was an ear of compassion toward sinners.  In regard to the word of God, Jesus instructed, “Take heed how you hear” (Lk 8:18).  But the example of his behavior challenges us to be cautious how we hear others.  Would sinners come to us?  Would the self-righteous accuse us of being friends of sinners?   How can we teach sinners if they see us as judges rather than compassionate ears?  Is it written by our lives that we are “come to do thy will, O God,” as it had been prophesied of Jesus?
 
Because he was meek and lowly, listening instead of commanding, we can find rest to our souls and we can rest the souls of others.
 
Keith Ward
 

My grandsons have “buddies,” their favorite stuffed animals/characters/items to sleep with.  For Silas it is a soft fabric Spiderman, a similarly made Mario (as in the video game), and his “blankie,” a receiving blanket that has been with him since he was an infant.  For Judah it’s Tiger (stuffed of course), Marshall (a stuffed Dalmatian he named after the Paw Patrol character), and his blankie, several times bigger than his brother’s.  They go with them everywhere.  On any sort of trip, you will see those buddies in the back seat.  Sometimes they are not in the arms of those little guys, but just their presence somewhere nearby has a calming effect.

Can they do without them?  Yes, they can.  They never take them into the meetinghouse, or into a restaurant, and especially not to school.  Their primary function is as bedtime buddies.  However, should they become frightened or upset, guess who they look for?  Guess what they ask for?  When the tears start, guess what Mommy and Daddy start scouring the house for?  Once they are found, the relief is instant.  No more crying.  No more fear.  No more worries about what lies ahead.  They have their buddies, and they are just fine.  They will even tolerate being left with a babysitter or taken two plus hours north to Grandma’s house for several days without Mom and Dad as long as those buddies are with them.

At the risk of sounding irreverent, isn’t that how God and our Lord should be to us?  Shouldn’t we recognize their presence every day, in fact, plead for their presence in our lives and be grateful for it?  When things go awry, as they will sooner or later in everyone’s life, shouldn’t they be the ones we look for?  And once we are assured of their presence, shouldn’t the relief be instant?  Isn’t that what faith is all about?

Hannah could not have children, it seemed, the great longing of every Hebrew woman.  In addition her rival wife “provoked her” constantly.  She was “in great bitterness” and “wept sorely” (1 Sam 1:10).  What did she do?  She went to God and prayed her heart out.  “I poured out my soul before Jehovah,” she told Samuel (v 15).  And what happened afterward?  “Her countenance was no longer sad (v 18).

What do you do when a crisis rears its ugly head?  What do you rely on?  Who do you count on?  What calms your fears and dispels your worries?  Hannah knew who her real Buddy was, and He calmed her as no one else could.  If your “buddies” are anyone or anything besides your Father and Older Brother and your Comforting Helper, you will be sorely disappointed in the results.  

Those little boys will go anywhere as long as they have their buddies.  We sing a song, “If Jesus goes with me, I’ll go—anywhere.”  Can you?
 
I know that the LORD will maintain the cause of the afflicted, and will execute justice for the needy. Surely the righteous shall give thanks to your name; the upright shall dwell in your presence, Ps 140:12-13.

Dene Ward

The first time this city girl had to deal with mice in the house was when we moved to rural Illinois and our house sat right next to a cornfield.  We discovered we had mice the morning I found that the dog had had a playmate all night, and it was lying right in the doorway to the kitchen, all “played” out.

            So we set out traps, especially in the large walk-in pantry/laundry area.  If anything would attract the mice we figured it would be the warmth from the water heater and the food on the shelves.

            The pantry shared a wall with the dining area.  One frigid morning we were eating breakfast when we suddenly heard a sharp snap, followed by a thump on that wall’s other side, then squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak, and a scrambling of tiny feet.  I didn’t think this was the way mousetraps were supposed to work, but what did I know?  Before that fall, I had never even seen one except on cartoons.

            Keith walked around, peered into the pantry, and started laughing.  When we had set the trap inside the door, we had pushed it in with the peanut butter side against the wall and the spring on the side toward the door.  Evidently the mouse had climbed onto the spring and when he started nibbling on the peanut butter, it had snapped, catapulting him into the wall.  Having survived the trap, he had run away unscathed except, perhaps, for a nasty bump on the head.

            That night we reset the trap, this time pushing it in the other way around.  Sure enough, as we were eating breakfast the next morning we heard the snap, followed by a deathly quiet.  Keith disposed of the interloper after we finished eating.

            That mouse thought he had found a way around the trap.  That dumb animal thought he was safe because one time he had had a nibble without it killing him.  If mice could think such things, I can just imagine, “It won’t happen to me,” coming out of his mouth, just like a few dumb humans I know of.  It isn’t enough to stay out of the trap—you have to stay completely away from it.  Thorns and snares are in the way of the perverse; He who keeps his soul shall be far from them, Prov 22:5.

            Job pictures the life of the wicked as nothing but snares, 18:8-10.  Jeremiah says they lay snares for the righteous, 5:26.  How do they do that?  By their very lifestyles.  We look, and we want, and we wish, and suddenly we do—just like they do.  God warned the Israelites not to even covet the gold and silver covering the idols, lest you be snared therein, Deut 7:25.  It is not enough to just want their lives and “not do the sins they do—I know better than that!”  How can we not eventually fall into the same things they did?  Because, like that mouse, we think we have found a way to nibble on one side and not be caught by the other.

            The Proverb writer says we are often ensnared “with the words of our own mouths,” 6:2.  We say we abhor sin, we say we don’t want to do bad things, but with the same mouth we idolize people who live without morals, without integrity, and without self-control, people who care nothing at all about God.  They may even wear crosses around their necks and thank the Lord in public, but they turn right around and profane Him with their lives.  And we think we wouldn’t be trapped by sin the same way they are?  How foolish, how immature can we be?

            Don’t glamorize sin.  Don’t worship those who do.  Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can sit on one side of the mousetrap and have a bite of something good, and a fun, and an exciting ride to boot.  The next time you nibble, someone may very well have turned the mousetrap around.
 
But my eyes are toward you, O GOD, my Lord; in you I seek refuge; leave me not defenseless!
Keep me from the trap that they have laid for me and from the snares of evildoers!  Psalm 141:8,9.
 
Dene Ward

I’m sitting in my camo-mesh lounge chair in front of a campfire, the flame whirling up in a mini-tornado, the smoke wafting down the hillside away from the tent site.  The sun peeks through the leaf canopy dappling the brown, red, orange, and yellow foliage-strewn ground just enough to moderate the cool air into [long] shirtsleeve weather.  Pieces of crystal blue sky show here and there, grayed occasionally by a patch of camp smoke.  The titmice nag at us from the saplings and bushes at the foot of tall pines, hickory, beeches, and red oak, while a woodpecker alternates his door-knock pecking and his manic laugh.

            The campsite could not have been laid out any better.  A long back-in approach left us plenty of room to unpack boxes, coolers, and suitcases, and still have room to stack firewood and set up tents on a perfect length tent site, something not always easy to find for a 16 x 10 tent.  The table fit nicely inside the screen and the fire ring is far enough from both the tents to avoid sparks.

            The park itself is beautiful, lakes, valleys, mountain tops to hike—no hike longer than three to four hours, some appreciably shorter.  The bathhouses are clean with plenty of hot water and strong sprays from large showerheads.  The campsites afford as much or as little privacy as one wants—take your pick.  It is quiet and peaceful, yet only ten minutes from grocery, gas, and pharmacy.

            We’ve been here six days now—perfect park, perfect campsite, perfect weather.  We haven’t even had our customary day of rain, nor even an overcast morning.  So this is not the trip to test our mettle as campers.  It’s all been way too perfect.  But you know what?  We won’t have many stories to tell from this trip.  Oh wait!  Our forty year old electric blanket did give out on us the first—the coldest—night.  And don’t you see?  That’s the story we’ll be telling—and that’s when we found out we were seasoned campers.  We shrugged our shoulders and snuggled a little closer together in the double sleeping bag.

            Peter tells us that God will test our mettle as His servants.  Wherein you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been put to grief in manifold trials, that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold that perishes though it is proved by fire, may be found unto praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ, 1 Pet 1:6-7.

            Too often, instead of passing the test, we use it as an excuse.  We say, “I know I didn’t do well, but after all, I was dealing with such difficult circumstances.”  Instead of growing and getting better and stronger, we blow up as usual and then apologize yet again.  If we were really improving, the apologies would become less frequent, and one day, perhaps, unnecessary.  That’s what God expects of us.

            He doesn’t look down and say, “Well, I know they can handle this trial.”  Why should He bother sending it?  Instead, the test comes and after we pass He looks down, as He did on Mt Moriah and says, “Now I know.”

            And it’s those tests that give us the experience to help others and the strength to endure more.  God never promised us perfect lives here on this sin-cursed world.  He did not promise you fame and fortune (no matter what Joel Osteen says).  He did not promise perfect health, perfect families, or even perfect brethren.  What He did promise is a perfect reward after we successfully navigate what amounts to, in the perspective of Eternity, a moment or two of imperfection.

            But only if you have the mettle.
 
When they had preached the gospel to that city and had made many disciples, they returned to Lystra and to Iconium and to Antioch, strengthening the souls of the disciples, encouraging them to continue in the faith, and saying that through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God, Acts 14:21-22.
 
Dene Ward

Keith and I teach a class called Preparation for Marriage and Parenting.  Below are a few comments we throw in during these classes that are not in the lesson book we compiled, but which probably ought to be.  For what they are worth…
 
            Headship is not about getting to do whatever you want to do.  It is about carefully considering the needs of the entire family and doing what is best for them, whether it is what you want to do or not.
            Any woman who has difficulties with subjection has difficulties with being a Christian.  Submission is what being a disciple of Christ is all about.
            A man who makes subjection difficult for his wife might as well get himself sized for a millstone.
            There are many different ways to handle problems in a marriage.  The first and most important thing you should do is make up your minds that you will make it through this.  Never keep a divorce lawyer on your speed dial.
            It doesn’t matter whether you understand women or not.  It doesn’t matter whether you understand men or not.  What matters is understanding that your spouse does not think like you do.
            If you ladies are going to use your hormones as an excuse for bad behavior, then you should allow your husband to use male hormones as an excuse for his.
            Marriage is a high maintenance relationship.  As soon as you start neglecting it, it will go downhill.
            Spouses who do not communicate well and on a regular basis will soon be total strangers.
            Letting her talk is useless if you don’t listen.
            Your children are not your own.  They are merely souls God has given into your care, and He expects them to be returned in good shape.
            You are teaching your children whether you intend to or not.  What textbook are you using?  Look in the mirror.
            Make no mistake about it—you are waging a war with your toddlers, which you should win before they reach school age.  Any time you “give in,” you have lost a battle and retaking that territory will take twice as long at twice the cost to your relationship with your child.
            Too many parents don’t train their children, their children train them.
            A father who won’t change dirty diapers probably won’t be much use to his children when the messes of life afflict them either.
            If you tell your child, “If you do that again, I am going to _________ you,” and then don’t ______them when they do it again, you have lied to your child.
            Don’t tell me that a child is too young to comprehend punishment before the age of 2.  My child is smarter than any puppy dog I ever saw.  So is yours.
            Raising kids is hard work.  Our society and its children are suffering from parents who were either too lazy or too selfish to do the job right.
 
            Gleaning in the field sometimes gives you choice produce that was simply overlooked.  Other times there is a reason it was left there.  So this morning choose from the list and take what is most helpful.
 
Except Jehovah build the house they labor in vain that build it…Lo, children are a heritage of Jehovah, and the fruit of the womb is his reward.  As arrows in the hand of a mighty man, so are the children of youth.  Happy is the man who has his quiver full of them; they shall not be put to shame when they speak with their enemies in the gate, Psalm 127:1, 3-5.
           
Dene Ward