One thing our utter ignorance about the Psalms has done to us, is make us think we should never worry, never doubt, never complain to our Father.  We talk about maintaining a "stiff upper lip" and never losing our smile, about showing nothing but calm assurance when the trials of life afflict us again and again.  No wonder so many of us just give up and leave.
     I hear even from pulpits that the Book of Psalms is a book of praise.  That is just plain ignorant.  When it comes to sorting out and labeling psalms, the majority of them are psalms of lament.  We think we should never complain to God because that is a sign of ingratitude.  The ancient Jews knew otherwise.  God wants to hear our complaints.  Those complaints show Him that we are dependent upon Him, that we recognize that all our blessings come from Him and that He is the only one who can fix our problems, all of which are signs of great faith.  Let's look at a few of those complaints.

My heart is in anguish within me: And the terrors of death are fallen upon me. Fear and trembling come upon me, And horror overwhelms me (Psalm 55:4-5).
Hear my cry, O God, listen to my prayer; from the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint… (Psalm 61:1-2).
For my days pass away like smoke, and my bones burn like a furnace. My heart is struck down like grass and has withered; I forget to eat my bread. Because of my loud groaning my bones cling to my flesh. I am like a desert owl of the wilderness, like an owl of the waste places; I lie awake; I am like a lonely sparrow on the housetop (Psalm 102:3-7).

     These psalms are by people of God, including David.  Do you see the words they have chosen?  Anguish, terror, fear and trembling, faint heart.  The psalmist is so upset he can't sleep, he can't eat, and this has been going on so long that he has lost weight ("my bones cling to my flesh").  Most of us would chide him for his lack of faith, but only true faith will believe it can go to God with anything, describing his feelings freely.  Only true faith trusts that God cares and will not only hear, but act on our prayers.  We need to get our perspective in the same order as those earlier believers before our mistaken idea of faith destroys us.
     It's all right to be afraid.  It's all right to wonder if God has abandoned you.  It's all right to weep aloud and complain with all you have within you.  For those very complaints and meditations will lead us to a new understanding of faith as well as a deeper variety of faith.  After the psalmists complain, they inevitably restate their trust to an even stronger degree in a God they know loves them.  Look at the endings of all those psalms we quoted above.

But I call to God, and the LORD will save me. ​Evening and morning and at noon I utter my complaint and moan, and he hears my voice (Ps 55:16-17).
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I, for you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the enemy.  For you, O God, have heard my vows; you have given me the heritage of those who fear your name. (Psalm 61:2,3,5).
For the LORD builds up Zion; he appears in his glory; he regards the prayer of the destitute and does not despise their prayer (Psalm 102:16-17).

     Lest we think this only applied in the Old Testament, and today we should never show fear, doubt, or upset, let alone complain, let's see what Paul had to say about that.

For even when we came into Macedonia, our bodies had no rest, but we were afflicted at every turn— fighting without and fear within (2 Corinthians 7:5).  Sounds to me like Paul is admitting that he was afraid.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).  This sounds like people shared their problems not only with one another, but with God first.

     Over and over we will find exhortations to help the afflicted, to pray for the afflicted, the comfort the afflicted, to "weep with those who weep".  None of this sounds like a people who suffer in silence.
     It's okay to be afraid when life hands you something scary.  Never think that fear and trembling during those times is a lack of faith and trust in God.  Maybe those things were meant to turn you to Him more often, more diligently, and more intensely.  Complain with all your heart, but complain to the God who can help you through it, and who will do His best to lend you the comfort you need in those times.  In your complaint, you will find your faith.

Answer me quickly, O LORD! My spirit fails! Hide not your face from me, lest I be like those who go down to the pit. ​Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love, for in you I trust. Make me know the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul (Psalm 143:7-8).

Dene Ward

Despite my trekking poles, I still have an occasional stumble as I walk Chloe around the property in the mornings.  Trees have a way of shedding limbs, especially in a brisk spring breeze, of pelting the ground with pine cones that roll beneath the feet, and showering the ground with slick leaves and needles.  All of those things hide holes and depressions that can turn an ankle.  I haven’t fallen in awhile, thanks to these sturdy fiberglass poles, but it’s still a little dangerous out there for someone with limited vision.
            Most of those trees are ancient by human standards.  After watching a live oak we planted grow from a one foot “stick” to a fifteen foot sapling in 20 years, I know the ones that spread over our house, so large it would take four people to hold hands around them, must be closing in on the century mark.  The wonderful thing about those trees, especially in this climate, is the shade.  With limbs stretching out thirty to forty feet, and dense foliage, the temperature beneath them can be ten to fifteen degrees cooler than in the sun. 
            Trees, then, can be either a source of comfort or a hindrance.  On occasion, a tree has deposited a limb right in the middle of our driveway, and there are few places along its length where you can drive out of the road around a blockage.  The older the trees, in fact, the bigger the problem they can cause.  We pray constantly, especially in hurricane season, that one of those thousand pound limbs will not fall on the house.
            As I become older, I realize the same is true of me.  The aged can be a source of strength, wisdom, and encouragement.  God surely intended that to be the case.  Wisdom is with the aged, and understanding in length of days, Job 12:12.  Unfortunately we can also be a source of discouragement and a hindrance to spiritual life.  Instead of gaining wisdom, some of us store up hurts and slights, many of them magnified through the years or even imagined.  Instead of learning the lessons of life, we become bitter.  Instead of maturing and reaching out to others, we continue, as we so often did when young, to demand attention.
            On this rural property we have learned through the years which trees are most helpful and which are most damaging.  I step over far more pine limbs than oak, but even among those stately hardwoods are some we have learned to be wary of.  A water oak will drop branches on your house or your car or your power lines, will in fact, be as likely as a pine tree to completely fall over. 
            It may not seem fair, but if you are a young person looking for a mentor, you must, as Jesus said, judge people by their fruits.  If you find yourself hearing nothing but the negative, you are taking shelter under the wrong tree. 
            If you, like me, are heading toward that label “elderly,” you need to think about the shelter you offer the young.  I will be judged by “every idle word.”  Certainly around the young and impressionable, around those who may look to me for wisdom and advice, I must be careful not to cause them to stumble in their confidence by casting off branches of discouragement.  I must not block their pathway to spiritual growth with selfish resentment about the past.  I certainly must not squash their zeal with cynicism about either the world or their brethren.  If ever there is a time when our choice of words is crucial, it is old age, when the young look to us for advice and help.
            We cannot help becoming old.  But we can all determine how we will act as one of those older “trees.”  What did Jesus say about branches that were unfruitful?  Do we really think he will do less to us if we fail in our purpose as the older, wiser branches of his spiritual family tree?
 
O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come. Psalms 71:17-18.
 
Dene Ward

We plant a lot of tomatoes in our garden.  We have learned by trial and error that it is far better to plant more than you think you can possibly use of several different varieties.  Some years one type produces better than the others.  Some years one will be wiped out by a disease that doesn’t touch the others.  Usually there is neither rhyme nor reason for any of it.  By planting several types, we can be sure to have some, if not all, bear fruit, and by planting too many, if it’s a bad year, we still have enough.  On the other hand, if it’s a good year, we can be generous with friends and neighbors.
            We have also learned which types work best in our area.  For a long time we could always find what we needed in plants, but gardening has become the fashion now, and just like clothes, certain types of tomatoes are popular.  You used to search far and wide for heirlooms.  Now you must search far and wide for the ordinary hybrids.  The problem with heirlooms, at least in our part of the country, is that they bear about 5% as much as the ordinary hybrid.  We usually plant 90-95 tomatoes to fill our needs in canned tomatoes, tomato sauce, and salsa.  It isn’t so much that we put up a lot; it’s that in this heat, tomatoes stop bearing by the end of June.  We may have a shorter growing season than our northern neighbors and if we used heirlooms exclusively, we would need to plant nearly 2000.
            If we can’t find the reliable varieties of plants in the garden shops any longer, we can find their seeds in at least one of the half dozen seed catalogues we receive.  It’s a lot more trouble.  In our small home, we have to use the entire back bedroom to lay out the seed sponges and set up the grow-lights.  When they outgrow the sponges, they are still too small and delicate to place outdoors and the weather still too cold, so we have to transplant each one into a larger cup—all 90, one by one.  Then, when the weather finally turns, we have to carry them outside every day, a little longer every day, to harden them for the final transplant into the garden where they will be prey to sun, wind, insects, birds, and animals.  Because of our careful preparation, most of them make it.  We seldom lose more than half a dozen.
            All that because fashion has taken over in gardening instead of common sense and proven track records.  It happens in every area of life. 
            Don’t get me started on the organic craze.  People had been eating organic foods for thousands of years when Jesus came along and there were still plenty of sick people for him to heal and raise from the dead.  Don’t tell me they didn’t have cancer in those days.  Herod the Great is thought to have died of it based upon descriptions of his illness.
            Everyone knows how music changes.  As far as our songs in the assembled worship, we are seeing a whole lot more rhythm and a whole lot less depth in the words.  Or, “Wow!” someone says—usually someone with a music background—“this one actually uses Dorian mode!”  Yes, but can an untrained congregation sing it easily enough to focus on the lyrics and actually do some “teaching and admonishing?”
            Teaching has its fads.  We gave up phonics and wound up with “Johnny Can’t Read.”  In Bible classes we stopped teaching Bible facts to our children because we wanted them to develop the “heart” and not just the knowledge.  So now we have ignorant people tearing churches apart over things they should have been taught as children.  We used to be known for our Bible knowledge—now many of us are as clueless as any unbeliever on the streets.
            Yes, some things are changeable expedients, and I have agreed with most of ours.  However, those things should be carefully weighed not only for their rightness, but also for the sake of pure old common sense.  Do we want to do it because it will work better for this group of people, or because everyone else is doing it?  Some of us wind up planting 2000 tomatoes just so we look good to the world, when 90 of the right kind would do just fine, probably better, at fulfilling the need. 
            The seed is the word of God, Jesus said.  Maybe it’s time we used the seed instead of chasing around looking for something new and exciting.  God’s way works, but only if you know it, and only if you use it.
 
Whoever is wise, let him understand these things; whoever is discerning, let him know them; for the ways of the LORD are right, and the upright walk in them, but transgressors stumble in them. Hosea 14:9
 
Dene Ward
 

Too many times we studio teachers teach only the instrument, piano and voice in my case, and neglect the other things that make one a well-rounded musician—history, theory, ear training.  So for my students I made up history notebooks focusing on one particular composer each year containing articles, worksheets, and listening labs.  When the makeup of the studio suddenly increased to 40% voice students, I decided to make a notebook with them in mind, one on opera.  Besides, even piano students needed to know about opera.
            I began with worksheets on the history of opera and types of operas.  Then we moved on to study the stories of 5 different operas, followed by a listening lab on one of the more famous arias from each opera.  I live in a rural county.  The closest thing to opera any of these students had ever seen or heard was their grandparents’ reminiscences of Minnie Pearl and the Grand Ol’ Opry.  The answers I received on many of the listening labs often made me laugh out loud and taught me a lot about perspective.
            “Nessun dorma” from Turandot:  (All the recordings were in the original language of the opera.)  On the question, “Describe the melody,” a 6 year old wrote, “Sounds Italian to me.”  How could I argue with that?
            Another question attempted to point out the emotion in the singers’ voices by asking, “Where in the music do you think he sings, ‘I will win!  I will win!’?”  Though it was in Italian it was obvious; even the 6 year old got it.  But one 10 year old thoroughly misunderstood the question and wrote, “I don’t know, but he was so loud, he MUST have been outside somewhere.”
            “La donna mobile” from Rigoletto:  “What are the main difficulties of this aria?”  A 9 year old answered, “He’s trying to get a woman, but can’t.”
            We could not have left out Carmen, though presenting this less than moral character to children took a bit of discretion.  We listened to the “Habanera,” which is, in reality, a dance.  “Carmen likes to flirt a lot.  How does the fact that she is singing to a dance make it sound ‘flirty?’”  A 9 year answered, “It shows she’s pretty smart if she can sing a dance!”
            Because the majority of my singers were 14-16 year old girls, I chose Charlotte Church’s recording over Maria Callas’s version of Carmen.  Charlotte was only 15 at the time and I felt they could better relate to her.  However, this brought about the question, “How is her ability to sing this character likely to change as she gets older?”  Talk about perspective, a 9 year old boy wrote, “She’ll soon be married and she’d better not be flirting with other men!!!!”  But a 16 year old girl wrote--now remember Charlotte was only 15 on this recording--“It won’t be long till she is so old she won’t even remember how to flirt any more.” 
            Was this notebook successful?  When I took up the final exams I wondered.  The first question was “Define opera.”  An 11 year old wrote, “A type of music for men and women where you sing real LOUD.”
            But I also had them write, both at the beginning of the study and at the end, what they honestly thought about opera.  One 14 year old was very tactful at the beginning of the year when she wrote, “I think people who can sing it are very talented.”  But at the end of the year she wrote, “If this is opera, I really like it.  And I learned not to ever say I don’t like something when I don’t really know anything about it.”
            I wonder how many people approach the Bible that way?  They believe it to be a book of myths, a storybook, only a suggestion for how to live, anything but the Word of God when they have absolutely no personal knowledge on the subject.  They have never considered the evidence; they have never made comparisons to other ancient writings that are far less convincing.  We have only 643 copies of Homer’s Iliad but over 5700 copies of the scriptures, and no one ever questions the completeness and accuracy of that Greek epic.  We believe George Washington existed and became our first president.  Why?  Because of eyewitness accounts, the same type of accounts available in historical documents about Jesus.  Even people who accept Jesus as the Son of God, question the validity of the New Testament because it was a translation, yet Jesus himself quoted a translation of the Old Testament, one about as far removed from him in time as the New Testament is from us, and all this barely skims the surface of internal and external evidences validating the Bible.
            My students learned a valuable lesson the year we studied opera:  don’t judge until you check it out yourself.  If you are wondering about the Bible, about Jesus, and even about the existence of a Creator, the only logical and fair thing is for you to do that too.
 
For the word of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us who are saved it is the power of God. For it is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, And the discernment of the discerning will I bring to nought. Where is the wise? where is the scribe? where is the disputer of this world? hath not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For seeing that in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom knew not God, it was God's good pleasure through the foolishness of the preaching to save them that believe. 1 Corinthians 1:18-21
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Joanne Beckley
 
The Lord direct your hearts into the love of God and into the patience of Christ.
2Thes 3:5
 
This is a benediction which all of us would like to receive. In Christ, patience has its perfection. Jesus did not have a life sheltered from the evils of this world created by mankind. But he endured with sensitivity, seeking out the good in people. His patience with his disciples was demonstrated over and over and over. Among all he met along the way He never showed impatience, but gave freely of the richest and best of His own life to heal and comfort. The majority rejected His gifts of love, but He never wearied in his offerings, even from his out-stretched arms on the cross.
 
So how do we demonstrate Jesus’ patience in us? He has given us all that we need, both from His example, and from within His words in order to exhibit the same patience. But perhaps we need to stop and consider whether our actions demonstrate the patience of Christ.
 
In the home
Too often we throw away thought filled words and are apt to speak or act disagreeably. We assert ourselves and are willfully exacting in our expectations. We lose our patience and speak unadvisedly and unkindly. These impatient words hurt and sometimes hurt irreparably.  
 
Eph 6:4 “Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger; but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.”
1Pe 3:7 “You husbands likewise, live with [your wives] in an understanding way, as with a weaker vessel, since she is a woman; and grant her honor as a fellow heir of the grace of life, so that your prayers may not be hindered.”
 
Wherever else we may fail in our patience, it should not be in our own homes. This is the place that should be the nearest we have to our heavenly home. But is it? We don’t have long to stay together and we should be patient and gentle for the time we may have.
 
In society
We need the patience of Christ with whomever we meet, in business or among all that we meet, including our neighbors. Not everyone is agreeable and reasonable to our efforts to be patient. They may be thinking of us as we do of them because we are not exhibiting Christ. If this is true, we may not be able to bring that person to Christ.

Ec 7:8 “The end of a matter is better than its beginning; Patience of spirit is better than haughtiness of spirit.”
Ro 2:4 “Or do you think lightly of the riches of His kindness and forbearance and patience, not  knowing that the kindness of God leads you to repentance?”
 
In the church
We need the patience of Christ the moment we step into the company of His disciples. We are to bind up broken hearts, help the weak, and encourage the inexperienced with patient love. It is not a time to be self-seeking, but with patience seek to offer what is needed. All of us who would put our hands in any way on other lives need a large measure of the patience of Christ. Be patient and seek a good time to speak loving words. But in our very interest in others, we are in danger continually of speaking inopportunely.

Col 3:12-15 “And so, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, whoever has a complaint against anyone; just as the Lord forgave you, so also should you.  And beyond all these things [put on] love, which is the perfect bond of unity. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body; and be thankful.”
 
The trials of life
We need patience all the more to face the trials of life. Remember all that Jesus endured during His trials. Consider all the wrongs that brought him pain and suffering and how they were faced. We must face the same in our own lives. This lesson is hard to learn. We will feel resentment, perhaps even to the point of verbal anger at what we feel is unfair or untrue. Jesus can help us to be silent and patient in the time of distress. He can turn our cry of pain into a song of submission and joy, for He is our source of peace. It is so important in every area of our lives to develop a willingness to persevere and be patient. Do not relax your vigilance. Often the need for patience will come as a surprise.

1Co 13:4 “Love is patient, love is kind, [and] is not jealous; love does not brag [and] is not arrogant, 5 does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong [suffered,] 6 does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; 7 bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

May the Lord direct your heart into the love of God and into the patience of Christ.
Joanne Beckley

Today's book review is by guest writer Keith Ward.
 
Our old Baker's Bible Atlas from our 70's classes at Florida College was not only outdated but so worn as to be tossed rather than moved when we relocated last year.  So we looked for a more up-to-date replacement once we got settled in.
 
Though the 1998 copyright shows it is 20 years out of date, HBA has a wealth of material written by a believer and color maps created by superior technology. And, I doubt any of the mountains or rivers have moved since its publication! It shows the reasons geography determined some events in the Bible not only in words but with detailed maps and graphics.
 
It provides just enough secular and Bible History to adequately supplement the inspired record and maps. Should one desire more, he needs to find appropriate history books.
 
I read it and recall no theology being pushed other than a belief in the Bible record.
 
My complaints are that the pages are too glossy and sometimes reflect in a way requiring maneuvering to get the light right to be able to read. This may be necessary to have the quality necessary for the excellent maps. And to read the detail on the maps, I needed a magnifying glass.
 
The Holman Bible Atlas is published by the B & H Publishing Group.
 
Keith Ward

This was according to the eternal purpose that he has realized in Christ Jesus our Lord, in whom we have boldness and access with confidence through our faith in him, Ephesians 3:11-12.
 
            Ho-hum, I thought as I grabbed the concordance to look up yet another word in our study of faith.  Expecting to see that “boldness” was also translated courage, bravery, or some other obvious synonym, I found myself sitting up at attention instead. 
            This word for boldness here is not the usual word.  This one actually means boldness of speech.  In fact, the one Greek word is translated by those three English words more than once as in 2 Cor 3:12, “Having therefore such a hope, we use great boldness of speech.”  If you have a modern translation, as I did my ESV that day, you will miss it.  Pull out your old 1901 ASV and you will see the three word phrase.  Then pull out your King James, “ …we use great plainness of speech.”
            That means, according to that verse at the top, you can talk freely—and plainly—to God.  You don’t have to worry that God will take things the wrong way.  You don’t have to worry that God will misinterpret your meaning.  You don’t have to worry that He will take offense like some people who make a career out of getting their feelings hurt.
            When you are disappointed, you can talk to Him.
            When you are depressed and discouraged, you can talk to Him.
            When you are mad, you can talk to Him.
            When you want to ask why, you can.
            When you want to feel a little sorry for yourself, you can.
            When you need to vent, you can.
            God says, be plain, be bold, tell me what you need to tell me—I am here for you.
            That verse in Ephesians says we can do this because of faith.  If you don’t believe God cares this much for you, that He will listen to anything and everything, that He actually wants you to feel free to talk to Him, then somewhere your faith is lacking. 
            It isn’t faith to say, God doesn’t want to hear this.
            It isn’t faith to say, my problems are too small to bother God with them.
            It isn’t faith to say, God is busy with more important things right now.
            Faith speaks.
            Faith speaks freely.
            Faith shares whatever needs to be shared whenever it needs sharing—just ask Job.
            Tell God how you feel today.
 
A Psalm of David:  Hear my cry, O God; Attend unto my prayer. From the end of the earth will I call unto you, when my heart is overwhelmed: Lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For you have been a refuge for me, A strong tower from the enemy. I will dwell in your tabernacle for ever: I will take refuge in the shelter of your wings. Selah. Psalms 61:1-4
 
Dene Ward

Things change so rapidly these days it seems impossible to keep up.  I had carefully collected a library of classical music LPs for my students to listen to.  By the time my studio was large enough, with students advanced enough to get much use out of them, I was collecting cassettes.  Before long I had to switch to CDs.  At least I don’t have a collection of 8 tracks collecting dust as well.  Somehow I missed that phase.
            The same thing is happening in the church, and I don’t mean changing doctrine to suit the situation, I mean changing the means by which we teach that unchangeable Word, and the ways we edify one another while still clinging to the constraints of obedient faith.
            Gone are the charts drawn on white bed sheets and the overhead projectors flashing carefully covered up lists, revealed one line at a time when the speaker moves the sheet of paper he laid on top.  Now we use power point and remotes.  Even my three year old grandson Silas knows to pick up something rectangular and point it at his make-believe screen when he pretends to preach like Daddy.
            We must beg people to use the carefully selected library of books we have in the back hall—they are happier with the internet and Bible study programs, not to mention Kindle and Nook.  Even the riffling of Bibles during the sermon has decreased—many now have all 66 books on something the size of a wallet.  You are more likely to hear beeps or mechanized “plops” than the quiet shuffling of pages.
            Now the preacher doesn’t just have to raise his voice when an infant begins to cry; he has to raise it when someone forgets to turn off his cell phone.  Now the song leader must wrestle with an audience who not only wants to sing at their own pace regardless of his direction, but with the ones who cannot for the life of them understand or “feel” syncopation.  Fanny Crosby would never have set words to a syncopated tune.
            But some things will always be the same.
            Children whose parents tell them to “Listen!” will still come up with ways to keep their wandering minds on the sermons, counting how many times the preacher says certain words or writing down every passage he uses, and in that play will begin to memorize scriptures that stay with them for a lifetime.
            Someone will still sniffle a bit during the Lord’s Supper, and someone else will momentarily hold up the collection while he tries to persuade his two year old to put the coins in the plate, and the children will learn what is done and why.
            A deacon will stand in back and count while another one makes last minute notes for the closing announcements, those precious words that help us “weep with those who weep, and rejoice with those who rejoice.”
            Serious men, in khakis and open neck shirts instead of suits and ties, will still listen carefully to the preacher while their wives juggle their own listening with trying to decide if a requested potty trip is really necessary or just a ploy to get out of this boring seat for a few minutes.
            People will still ask for prayers when life deals them a harsh blow, and brothers and sisters will gather round with hugs and tears, and offers of help.
            Excited new converts will still sit closer to the front than old ones, listening with rapt attention, diligently taking notes to study at home, and thinking up questions that will keep the elders busy for weeks.
            Young parents will be suddenly motivated to attend regularly for the first time in their lives by the responsibility of the small souls God has placed in their hands.
            Widows will contentedly sit, patiently waiting for the time when they can meet their mates “at the gate,” as my mother asked my daddy to do just moments before his passing.
            Older couples will do as I do, looking around at all the new but still seeing the old in spite of the new, comforting themselves that God’s way still works, even in this perplexing age of technology and unparalleled advancement.
            As long as there are people to hear it and hearts to believe it, planting the seed will make Christians spring up out of any plot of good soil.  It has worked for nearly two thousand years now and we, in spite of the wow-factor of our inventions, will never outdo the results God can get with one Book.  If you ever forget that, then look around some Sunday morning, not for the differences, but for the things that never change, and that never will as long as faith exists on the earth.
 
"O my God," I say, "take me not away in the midst of my days-- you whose years endure throughout all generations!" Of old you laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands. They will perish, but you will remain; they will all wear out like a garment. You will change them like a robe, and they will pass away, but you are the same, and your years have no end. The children of your servants shall dwell secure; their offspring shall be established before you. Psalms 102:24-28
 
Dene Ward

I was driving back from Bible class, coming down the last hill before the river, rolling green fields dotted with black cattle on the right, and a couple of old trailer houses perched on the left, their yards littered with rusty old farm equipment, screens hanging loose on porches covered with peeling paint, and black and brown frosted-off weeds standing knee high.  It may surprise you that I was driving.  I have reached that point where the doctor is the one who decides if I can have a driver’s license, and it seems the general consensus is that it doesn’t matter if you can tell if that thing by the side of the road is a garbage can, a mailbox, or a midget, as long you know it’s there and don’t hit it.
            But I was really tired.  Most of my medications are beta blockers of one sort or another, or poisons that affect my heartbeat.  Sometimes I am lucky to have a pulse rate of 52 and blood pressure just scraping the bottom side of 100, the top number that is.  The bottom one might be half that. 
            I had just bought groceries for the week, picked up a prescription and some dry cleaning, stood in line at the post office for twenty minutes and taught a Bible class, not to mention driving the hour and a half round trip back and forth to town.  I was ready to sit out the rest of the day, after I got home and unloaded.
            But my weary mind forgot that I was driving and told me to lean back and relax.  I know my eyes weren’t closed longer than half a second, but when my brain caught up with what I was doing and I snapped to, my pulse was racing along just fine.  Good thing I was only five miles from home.            
            And that’s when I forgot that these medications are a blessing, that without them I wouldn’t see at all, and wouldn’t have for several years now.  That’s when I railed against a gift of God.  It’s not enough that I have no energy.  I must also put up with the discomfort of follicular conjunctivitis every minute of every day as a side effect, and nearly constant headaches from the blurry vision that accompanies it.  How can this be a blessing?
            Down days happen, usually when things pile up.  Once again we needed something we couldn’t afford.  Once again we had received bad news about a parent’s health.  Once again something broke down.  My vision had decreased another line at my last checkup.  Keith’s RA had broken through the latest, the third, layer of medication and we weren’t sure it could be knocked down without another layer.  And now I come dangerously close to an accident that could have hurt not just me but an innocent bystander.
            So down I spiraled.  When even blessings—like the medications that keep you seeing—become something you want to curse because all you can focus on are the side effects, you are too far down, and it’s time to find your way out.
            Down days aren’t so much about a lack of faith as they are about a moment’s forgetfulness.  They are about looking for the wrong things, or looking at the right things the wrong way.  This wretched medicine makes me feel horrible, I sometimes think on a down day.  On an up day I remember, this wonderful medicine has kept me seeing long enough to see my grandchildren.
            I don’t for a minute compare myself to John, and I certainly have no idea what his feelings were, but if I had been in his shoes—or in his cell—I might have needed a reminder too.  He had given up so much to fulfill his role in God’s plan as the forerunner of the Messiah.  Yet now, when he has done all that was expected of him, he is cast into prison for speaking the truth.  Surely God would save this righteous man, the one of whom the Messiah himself would say, “Of those born of women, none is greater than John,” Luke 7:28.  But no, day after day he languishes in a prison cell at the mercy of a wicked woman and her weak husband. 
            I would have had a down day or two as I came to realize that my work was finished, that perhaps I, too, was finished, at the completely un-ripe young age of 31 or so.  I don’t know if that is why or not, but he sent his disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the one, or should we look for another?” (7:20) 
            The Lord sent him what he needed to hear.
            "Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by me." Luke 7:22-23.
            John already knew those things; he had probably seen many of them.  He just needed to be reminded, and there is no shame in that. 
God can remind each one of us too.  He does it by the providential words and actions of your brethren.  He does it when a hymn suddenly wafts through your mind.  He does it by giving us His Word, a resource of constant refreshment when we need it.  How many of us don’t have verses we go to in difficult moments?  If you don’t, then you need to make some time today to find one.  Find it before you need it.  Find it, and let the Lord remind you about all of your blessings, both now and to come. 
            You can come up from a down day, but only if you reach out and take hold of the help that is offered.
 
They who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:31.
 
Dene Ward

Some of you have been in on the drama from my latest surgery.  It was a surgery I dreaded, but knew from experience needed to happen.  The last time I had this same surgery with the left eye, it took months to recover.  Several complications set in almost immediately, the pain was nearly unbearable, and I lost not only my appetite but my sense of taste as well.  When I could not even tolerate mashed potatoes, a special treat for a woman who always fights her weight, I knew it was bad.  Keith actually put a New York Strip in front of me, knowing I am a raging carnivore, and I could only manage about four tiny bites.  I was so light sensitive I had to wear two pairs of sunglasses and still drape a bandanna over the offending eye.  And speaking of offending eyes, yes, indeed, I was thinking about plucking it out.  After nine months, we had to do it all over again, but the surgeon said he thought he had learned a trick or two, and that time I was only out of commission for about six weeks.  And that time it worked.
            So when the same symptoms began on the other eye, something more than one doctor had said would eventually happen, I knew what we were in for and yes, dread is not too strong a word.  Neither is terrified.  So bright and early on the morning of surgery I had barely opened my eyes when the phone rang.  An electrical problem in the operating room had caused the equipment to malfunction.  All surgeries were cancelled.  Talk about a letdown.  And another source of terror as well.  A month before, when the doctor had originally scheduled the surgery, he had told me that if I did not have it in that month's time, I could lose the eye.  So now what?
            Two hours later, the surgery scheduler called to reschedule.  The date was another month away.  "That won't do," I told her, then repeated my doctor's warning.
            "Well, it's the only date we have, but I will call the clinic and check with him."  And so I waited all day for a call that never came.
            The next day had already been scheduled for a post-op appointment, so, rather than canceling, I went in.  At least they could check my eye and see how it was doing and I could tell the doctor myself what they had told me.  When he walked into the room he apologized for the malfunctioning OR, which was certainly not his fault.  He said he had even tried to get us in at the closest hospital and could not.  Then he asked, "So did they schedule you for next week?"  At that I knew the scheduler had never even talked with him.  I told him what I had been told—another month.  He immediately went to the phone, which he placed on speaker, and called the scheduler.  He told her my name.  He said, "She must have surgery next Monday.  She cannot wait.  Call me when you get it done."  I heard a meek, "Yes sir."  Then he looked at me and told me I would get a call.
            I had not been home for 15 minutes when I did indeed get a call.  My surgery was scheduled for the next Monday.  (The doctor only does surgeries on Mondays.)  No waiting, no wondering, no pleading.  They even had my new post-op appointments made and the old ones cancelled.  That's what happens when THE BOSS tells you what to do.  Probably has something to do with that affecting one's paycheck.
            Don't you wonder sometimes what would happen in this world if the heavens opened and God spoke from them?  Don't you wish for it?  But hasn't it happened before with little if any results?  Elijah called down fire from heaven and within hours he was running for his life and so depressed he wanted to die.  Jesus performed all sorts of miracles witnessed by thousands and they came to him saying, "Show us a sign."  He raised Lazarus from the dead and it just added another name to the hit list. 
            But one day, everyone will listen, and everyone will know and will wish they had listened sooner, because then it will be too late.  They will bow, they might even worship, but they will be listened to the same way I was when I told that scheduler what the doctor wanted.  To her I was just a melodramatic little old lady who didn't know what she was talking about and wanted preferential treatment.  She found out I wasn't.  Let's not let that happen in something far more important.
 
Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father (Phil 2:9-11).
 
Dene Ward