It’s been over three decades now.  Things have always been tight for us, but that particular time was the worst.  Through no fault of his own, Keith was in between preaching jobs, making ends meet with a couple of part time jobs and two or three preaching appointments a month, while finishing up his degree on the GI Bill.  I had a twenty-month old, was five months pregnant, and battling both an ulcer and gall stones.  Every month we pulled the belt a little bit tighter.
            I had $20 a week to spend on groceries—period.  Even in that day it was only about half what others spent, even those who thought they were living closely.  I bought one piece of meat or poultry a week and made it last four or five days.  A whole chicken (19 cents a pound on sale) provided the breasts for our one splurge meal that week—we actually had a whole chunk of meat on our plates.  The next day I used the thighs for a casserole of some sort, and with enough filler like rice or noodles it lasted two nights.  Then I boiled the backs, wings, and neck in a huge pot of water as a base for chicken and dumplings, a copious amount of dumplings, for another two night meal.  The other two nights that week we filled up on meatless meals—cheese omelets, pancakes or waffles, black beans and rice, pinto beans and cornbread, lentil soup, or on really tight days—biscuits and gravy, the gravy using only bacon drippings, flour, and milk.  Don’t ever judge a person’s wealth, or even their self-control, by their girth.  Poor people food is fattening food.  Only the economically comfortable can afford fresh fruits and vegetables, whole grains, lean meat, and fish.
            Besides learning to stretch a dollar, I also learned to eat more slowly.  My little boy may have been a toddler, but he still needed to eat to grow.  I gave him the small plateful I thought he could eat, but often, when he asked for “more,” the only “more” was on my plate.  I had already rationed Keith to the point that I worried that a grown man working that many hours a day had enough to survive.  So I willingly scraped off what was left on my plate onto my child’s.  I was more than happy to do that for him.  When we chose to have these children, we automatically took on the responsibility to feed them and care for them, even if it meant we didn’t eat.
            I am afraid I am seeing parents who don’t believe that any more.  I know many fine young Christians who automatically sacrifice for their children, but the world doesn’t seem to think that’s normal.  Have you looked at the magazine rack in the grocery store?  Have you heard the discussions with people who think that everyone but they themselves should pay for their child’s basic necessities?  But let’s keep this personal instead of political.
            “I’m so tired.”  “I’m so stressed.”  “I don’t have time for me any more.”
            No, you don’t.  Yes, it’s exhausting, it’s frustrating, it’s completely overwhelming.  That’s what happens when you take on the care of a completely helpless human being.  That’s what you signed on for when you decided to have a child.  That’s the commitment you made when you decided to enjoy the act that might produce that child.
            You may not have as much time to primp and preen as you’re used to.  You may go weeks or months without being able to enjoy your favorite pastime or hobby.  You may go seven years without a single new article of clothing because any pennies you can squeeze out of the paycheck go to the three shirts, three pairs of pants, four pairs of underwear, four pairs of socks, and one pair of shoes you must buy for a growing child every six months at yard sales, outlets, and consignment shops.  You may even scrape the food off your plate. 
            That’s what loving, responsible parents do, and they never begrudge the sacrifice, especially not the time, because one day, far too soon, you wake up and it’s over.  No more babies to rock, no more stickers to put on the potty training chart, no more little fingers in the cookie dough.  You’ll have all the time in the world for yourself—your career, your hobbies, your hair appointments and shopping sprees—but no amount of wishing will give you back the time you could have spent teaching, training, nurturing and loving your children into a happy, productive adulthood, and they will probably pay for that neglect in one way or another.
 
Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate. Psalms 127:3-5
 
Dene Ward
 
 

Although I had babysat a few times and had piano students on Saturday mornings from the time I was 16, it wasn’t quite the same as my first job.  I answered a classified ad at a concrete plant a couple of miles down the road from our house.  I expected to sit in an assembly line sorting tiles with a bunch of other women, dust rising and coating us through the heat of summer days, forty-two and a half hours a week, at minimum wage.  I lucked out.  I had written on my application that I could type and the yard boss grabbed me for his office girl that summer.  I got to wear dresses and sit in air conditioned comfort instead of sweating in blue jeans in the old tin building out back.
            But just like those other women, I didn’t get paid until payday.  I never once expected anything else.  The boss was not going to walk around handing out checks to anyone for work they hadn’t yet done.  Yet we kept on working, sure that on Friday afternoon the checks would come out. 
            I wonder about us sometimes and our expectations of God.  We walk by faith and not by sight, Paul said in 2 Cor 5:7.  Without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him, the writer says in Hebrews 11:6.  Yes, God is a rewarder, but not yet.  Certainly we receive blessings in this life, but the best this life has to offer is a far cry from the final reward.  True faith does not expect Heaven now.
            The Psalmist tells us in 33:18 that God will take care of the one who fears him, will, in fact, “deliver his soul in famine.”  I probably would never have noticed this forty years ago, but it jumped right out at me the morning I read this psalm.  He will save us “in famine”—it doesn’t say we will never have to experience a famine.  Paul says we are to “fight the good fight,” 1 Tim 6:12, he doesn’t say God will keep us out of any sort of fight at all.  Our faith will be a shield and breastplate for us (Eph 6:16; 1 Thes 5:8), but it won’t be a peace treaty with the Devil.
            Habakkuk had a hard time understanding God’s reasoning in this matter.  How could a righteous God use a nation even more wicked than His people had become to punish them?  We should never act like we can call God on the carpet and tell Him, “Explain yourself!”  Habakkuk understood that himself, so God gave him the only answer he really needed, “The just shall live by his faith.”
            By the end of the book Habakkuk knew that didn’t mean no one would die.  He knew it didn’t mean they wouldn’t experience horrible things.  And we shouldn’t expect that either.  Despite what so many preach about “health and wealth” to the true believer, this world is not Heaven and God never promised it would be.  He simply promised understanding for what we are experiencing and the help to get through it. 
            It is for us to come to the conclusion Habakkuk finally did in a paean to hope that explains how we all make it through tough times, not just me and my problems, or you and yours, but each of us in the life we have before us and its own peculiar trials and tribulations.  We wait, as he did, for the troubles to come—and they will—and we rejoice.
           
I hear, and my body trembles; my lips quiver at the sound; rottenness enters into my bones; my legs tremble beneath me. Yet I will quietly wait for the day of trouble to come upon people who invade us. Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. GOD, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer's; he makes me tread on my high places. Habakkuk 3:16-19
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Doy Moyer.

There is “a time to weep and a time to laugh” (Eccl 3:4). This is an important realization for the child of God. Weeping and laughter both have their place. We often talk about dealing with heartache, pain, and recognize the place that weeping plays, but what about laughter? 

Is it a stretch to say that we need a sense of humor? Do we ever laugh at ourselves? Do we find circumstances in life sometimes to be humorous? Perhaps we’ll just laugh about that later. Humor often comes naturally. Children love to play and laugh. When he was three, my grandson would come to me, rub his belly, and say, “Big tickle?” He wanted to laugh, and I would usually oblige. As children grow, telling jokes becomes part of children’s conversations, however silly they may be. Humor and laughter are simply a part of who we are as humans. Perhaps even this aspect of our nature is a reflection of our God, for He built it into us. 

Some of us (myself included) seem pretty serious a good bit of the time.  I know that my sense of humor can be dry at times, and sometimes it’s fun to keep people guessing (don’t judge). On the other hand, there are the ridiculous moments. My poor kids grew up with many “groaners”—the puns, the ludicrous etymologies, the chicken voice songs… don’t ask. Seriously. Laughing with my children was always important to me. 

In the middle of all the difficulties and trials, laughter still has a place. “When a face is sad a heart may be happy” (Eccl 7:3). Sorrow is also good for the soul, but those who sorrow can sometimes find a happy heart. Families gathering at a funeral for a loved one will often laugh about humorous moments as they reminisce together. This does a heart good. Here the time to weep and the time to laugh aren’t far removed from each other and may be part of the same occasion. 

When the peculiarities and problems of life get us down, God has built into us a way to help relieve stress and pressure. We don’t want to laugh at inappropriate times, but we shouldn’t shun laughter altogether. Too much avoidance of laughter may have the effect of furthering a broken spirit. “A joyful heart makes a cheerful face, but when the heart is sad, the spirit is broken” (Prov 15:13). 

Laughter does not mean that the one who is able to laugh is making light of the difficulties and problems of this world. We understand that “even in laughter the heart may be in pain” (Prov 14:13), but that doesn’t negate the fact that laughter can be good medicine. “A joyful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit dries up the bones” (Prov 17:22). A heart can be joyful when not laughing, but laughter can be a sign of a joyful heart. The point is that it’s good for us from time to time to let loose a good laugh. Once in a while, it does us good to have one of those all-out howling, fall on the floor, lose our breath kind of laughs. It may not be pretty, but … it’s funny. Sometimes we may even start laughing just because others are laughing. It doesn’t have to make sense. We may just need to laugh, and that’s okay. Go ahead. 

We do need to be careful with what we laugh about. There is a great deal of worldly humor out there that is not fit for the children of God. Good, clean humor can be difficult to come by, and this is lamentable. We must be discerning because the world won’t be. Yet humor doesn’t necessarily need to come from outside sources like tv shows and professional comedians. Normal life has enough humorous moments if we are willing to lighten up a little, not take ourselves so seriously all the time, and laugh at ourselves when we create our own awkward situations. We surely don’t want to laugh at the expense of another’s feelings; we should never laugh at someone, particular in mockery or in violation of treating others as we would want to be treated (Matt 7:12). If we show that we can laugh at ourselves, however, we are showing good character. Taking ourselves too seriously all the time can be a sign of pride and conceit, and we can easily become bitter, angry, disgruntled people in the process. 

Balance is key. Those who find everything funny can be difficult because they rarely wish to think about serious matters, but those who never find anything humorous may not be very encouraging. A good, clean sense of humor will go a long way in both helping ourselves through a hard world and in encouraging others. Sharing a good laugh with another will make for some priceless moments and wonderful memories. Don’t neglect the “time to laugh.” God has made us to enjoy laughter at appropriate times. 

Doy Moyer
Taken from
Doy's blog Searching Daily
 

The day after a camping trip is my least favorite.  It isn’t just that the fun is over.  It isn’t just the unpacking and the piles of extra-dirty laundry.  It’s the complete lack of order in the house.
            The linens box, the pots and dishes box, the two food boxes, the tent and sleeping bag box, the boxes of gas canisters, batteries, light bulbs, extension cords, insect repellent, clothesline and clothespins, books and Bibles, along with the tool box, first aid kit, two suitcases and two coolers lie stacked or scattered on the carport and porch, in the kitchen and living room.  Although the linens are all camp linens, no longer used on an everyday basis, they must all be washed—and bleached—before I can put them away.  Everything else must be sorted through.  Some stay packed with the camping gear and others are returned to their regular homes in the pantry, on a shelf, in a cabinet, or in the shed.  The tent must be set up in the field to finish drying and sleeping bags hung to air out.  It is often two or three days before my home is back in order.
            Over the past few years, I have learned to accept a little less order.  Keith’s idea of order does not match mine, but he has had to take over the housekeeping several times so guess whose sense of order reigns then?  But when I go into the shed looking for the garden trowel, I can never find it while he knows exactly where it is.  In fact, he wants the item put right back where I got it, even if it doesn’t make sense to me because of his sense of order.  I learned a long time ago not to touch the top of his dresser, no matter how much it aggravates me.
            We each have a sense of order—no matter how messy others might think it—and we don’t want people rearranging things.  Why do we think God wants us messing with His sense of order?
            God’s sense of order has always had a reason, and while my sense of order is nothing but a selfish desire to keep things the way I want them, God’s sense of order is always for our good.
            The order he imposes upon our assemblies is for the ease of edification.  Camp awhile in 1 Corinthians 14.  If there is no interpreter, don’t speak in tongues because no one will be edified (vv 15-19), and visitors will simply be confused (v 23).  If more than one of you has a revelation, take turns so people can be edified rather than confused by the chaos of more than one speaking at a time (vv 27-28).  Women should not be asking questions to put their husbands forward, when some other topic might be more important to the group at that time (vv 34-35).  Surely we can see applications to today’s assemblies in all of that.  God’s sense of order isn’t about who gets the most floor time, or how much we are entertained—it’s about how much edification occurs.
            God’s sense of order for our lives helps us live happier, safer, and healthier.  We take better care of our bodies, our relationships, and our minds when we follow His order.  Even the ordinances that seemed to have nothing to do with us reinforce the goodness, the righteousness, and the holiness of God—things that are important to making us fit for an eternal life with a spiritual and holy Deity.
            “Surely God wouldn’t mind” presumptuously ignores the fact that the Creator is the only one with the right to impose order in our worship of Him and in our lives of service to Him.  “But I like it this way,” is simply selfishness and a slap in the face to God who has given everything to make it possible to be with Him forever.
            God doesn’t really care if I keep my spare items on the bottom shelf of the pantry and the things actively in use at eye level.  It doesn’t matter to Him that Keith keeps all the garden sprays and powders to the left of the middle pillar on the third shelf.  But the order He does care about, should be my first concern too.  In those things, God’s sense of order is the only one that matters.
 
And by this we know that we have come to know him, if we keep his commandments. Whoever says "I know him" but does not keep his commandments is a liar, and the truth is not in him, 1 John 2:3-4.
 
Dene Ward

We hadn’t driven that road in years, a narrow county road I used to jog down every morning.  At that time one end was so well wooded that more than once during hunting season I heard bullets whizzing across the road behind me when I jogged.  I learned to sing loudly while I ran. 
            The morning of our drive the sunlight came in exactly as it had all those years ago, slanting rays peeking through the trees from the east, clear and bright where they hit the road, a crisp fall morning, the humidity of summer left behind.  Then we came upon them, house after house, places where we had known the people who had lived there, one after the other along the west side of the road, then the south as the road made a ninety degree bend to the left.  We named the people as we rode by, and when we finished we looked at one another and realized that every one of them was dead.
            Yet there the houses still stood, some with new families, but most empty, houses those people had built themselves, nice homes mine could fit in twice over, carefully landscaped property, barns, sheds, pools, and other outbuildings—empty.  I thought of the Preacher’s words: I made great works. I built houses and planted vineyards for myself. I made myself gardens and parks, and planted in them all kinds of fruit trees. I made myself pools from which to water the forest of growing trees… Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had expended in doing it, and behold, all was vanity and a striving after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun, Eccl 2:4-6,11. 
            If ever there was a time I understood Ecclesiastes, it was that morning.  All these things people spend their money on, all these things they think will make them happy, none of them really matter because sooner or later you die and leave them behind.
            So I hated life, because what is done under the sun was grievous to me, for all is vanity and a striving after wind. I hated all my toil in which I toil under the sun, seeing that I must leave it to the man who will come after me, and who knows whether he will be wise or a fool? Yet he will be master of all for which I toiled and used my wisdom under the sun. This also is vanity. So I turned about and gave my heart up to despair over all the toil of my labors under the sun, because sometimes a person who has toiled with wisdom and knowledge and skill must leave everything to be enjoyed by someone who did not toil for it. This also is vanity and a great evil, Eccl 2:17-21.
            Maybe, though, the writer overreacted a bit.  Why hate your life?  Why not just change it?  When you learn that you control your happiness, that happiness does not lie in circumstances but within yourself, then you change the emphasis of all you do.  Why not spend your time making other people’s lives better?  Why not spread the good news in whatever way you are still able?  Why leave only an empty house behind when you can leave something far more lasting—an example, words of comfort and encouragement, the Word of God taught in whatever way possible to any and all who will pay attention?  But of course, the Preacher does reach this conclusion as you read on in Ecclesiastes:  Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole of man, Eccl 12:13.
            After you are gone, what will people say when they drive past what used to be yours?  Will they merely say, “That’s where so-and-so used to live?”  Or will they say, “Remember that brother and sister?  They were such good people.”  How are you spending the time God has given you?  What will you leave behind?  How much better to leave the memories of a life full of joy and service than an empty building no one will care about anyway.
 
And he told them a parable, saying, "The land of a rich man produced plentifully, and he thought to himself, 'What shall I do, for I have nowhere to store my crops?' And he said, 'I will do this: I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.' But God said to him, 'Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?' So is the one who lays up treasure for himself and is not rich toward God." Luke 12:16-21
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

On Sunday, March 17, 1996 Dad showed up to church sporting fresh bandages and with dried blood still caked in his hair.  He had been shot in the line of duty the night before.  While none of his wounds were serious, still HE HAD BEEN SHOT THE NIGHT BEFORE!!!  Several times people exclaimed that he should be at home in bed and asked, "What are you doing here?"  Dad's reply, "Where else would I want to be?"  After what had happened, being in God's house and worshipping with His children was the most desirable thing Dad could imagine.  While this is somewhat extreme, shouldn't our thoughts be the same each week?

1 Cor. 5:9-10  "I wrote to you in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral people—not at all meaning the sexually immoral of this world, or the greedy and swindlers, or idolaters, since then you would need to go out of the world."
 
          We are surrounded by sin on all sides all day, all week.  We've stopped flinching when we hear the Name of the Lord denigrated.  We find the vulgar commonplace.  We no longer cringe at the completely inappropriate clothing worn by most everyone.  We need refreshing, recentering, renewal.
 
Ps. 42:4-5  "These things I remember, as I pour out my soul: how I would go with the throng and lead them in procession to the house of God with glad shouts and songs of praise, a multitude keeping festival.  Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation"
 
          The purpose of going to the House of God is to be built up.  Are we feeling cast down?  in turmoil?  Remembering that we can go to God's house again should be a remedy.  Is your faith hanging by a thread?  Are you nearly ready to give into the temptations that are battering you?  Don't stay away from church in shame that you don't measure up; those are the time we should be even more eager to go to the House of God.  "And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together" (Heb 10:24-25)  We go to be encouraged.  To be strengthened.  To help others and to accept help. 
 
Isa. 30:29  "You shall have a song as in the night when a holy feast is kept, and gladness of heart, as when one sets out to the sound of the flute to go to the mountain of the LORD, to the Rock of Israel."
 
          Going to the House of the Lord should be a cause of joy.  We are working towards spiritual Zion (Heb. 12) and that describes Heaven in Rev. 21.  The earthly extension of that Kingdom, that City, is the church.  Fellowshipping with, edifying and being ecouraged by our brethren while we worship our Father is as close as we can get to heaven on earth. 
          Where else would we want to be?
 
Ps. 122:1 "I was glad when they said to me, 'Let us go to the house of the LORD!'" 

Lucas Ward

Out here in the country, just about every man has a pickup truck.  Most of them are several years old, caked in mud, a little rusty, and dented here and there.  That’s because those trucks are used. 
            We have one too.  It’s over twenty years old, usually wears a coat of dust, and sports a bed with scrapes, dings, and lines of orange rust.  It has hauled wood for our heat and leaves and pine straw for mulch.  It has carried loads of dirt to landscape the natural rises and dips of our property.  It has toted lawn mowers and tillers to the shop for repair.  It has gone on several dozen camping trips, filled to the brim of its topper with tents, sleeping bags, coolers, suitcases, firewood, and food.
            Whenever we go to town, it always amuses me to see a man in a tie get out of a pickup truck, especially if that truck is clean, polished, and less than two years old.  I asked such a man once why he needed his pickup.  “To drive,” he said.  What?  Isn’t that what far more economical cars are for?  He actually took better care of his truck than his car, polishing it to a high enough sheen to blind the driver in the next lane, and vacuuming it almost daily.  Obviously, his pickup was for show.  “A man ought to have a truck after all.”  Why?  Because it makes him a man?
            Before you shake your head, consider that this happens with many more things than pickup trucks.  Why do you have the type of car you do?  Not a car, but that particular one.  I know some people who think the brand is the important part, that somehow it says something special about them.  Why do you live where you do in the type of house that you have?  Is it a big house because you have a big family, because you use it to house brethren passing through who need help, because you show hospitality on a regular basis?  Or is it because someone of your status ought to have a house that size in that neighborhood?
            I suppose the saddest thing I have seen is women who have children because “that’s what women do.”  Their careers or busy schedules or social standing is far more important than the child, who is raised by someone else entirely, with mommy making “quality time” whenever she can spare a moment or two.
            The Israelites of the Old Testament had similar problems.  They wanted a king “like the countries round about them.”  Somehow they thought it made them a legitimate nation.  Do we do similar things in the church?
            Why do we have a preacher?  I have heard people say we need one to look valid to the denominations around us.  Why do we have a building?  “Because that would make us a real church.”  Neither of those things is wrong to have, but our attitudes show us to be less than spiritual, not to mention less than knowledgeable, when we say such things. 
            Why do you have elders?  “Because a church this size ought to.”  That may very well be, but you don’t fix the problem of a church that hasn’t grown enough spiritually to have qualified men by choosing men who are anything but just so you can say you have elders.
            A lot of us are just silly boys who think that having a pickup truck makes them real men.  Let’s get to the root of the problem.  What makes you a Christian, what makes a church faithful, is a whole lot like what makes you a man, and outward tokens have nothing to do with it.
 
"As for you, son of man, your people who talk together about you by the walls and at the doors of the houses, say to one another, each to his brother, 'Come, and hear what the word is that comes from the LORD.' And they come to you as people come, and they sit before you as my people, and they hear what you say but they will not do it; for with lustful talk in their mouths they act; their heart is set on their gain. And behold, you are to them like one who sings lustful songs with a beautiful voice and plays well on an instrument, for they hear what you say, but they will not do it. When this comes--and come it will!--then they will know that a prophet has been among them." Ezekiel 33:30-33
 
Dene Ward

"Micah underscores the passion for God’s word the nations will have (4.1–2) and indicates that Yahweh’s word is the instrument behind coming international transformation…If that will be the case then, should not this same word be at the center of the church’s ministry now? Is Zion despising her unique treasure in our day? Has the church traded her birthright for a mess of entertainment, kids’ clubs, quilting classes, and support groups for left-handers?"

D.R. Davis, "Micah," 83–84

What if I said to you, “He is as slow as a turtle,” and then a few minutes later added, “He’s moving at a snail’s pace.”  What would you say?  I’ll tell you what you would not say.
            You would not say, “Oh, he must have hard skin,” or, “He must be slimy.”  You would not look at me in exasperation and say, “Well which one is he?!  A snail or a turtle?”  Why is it then, that we do that to the Bible when the Holy Spirit uses figurative language? 
            Usually there is only one point to a figure, whether it is as small as a metaphor or as complex as a parable.  God can call the church a family, an army, a vineyard, a kingdom, and a bride.  There is a point of emphasis for each figure.  Most of us get that one, but then do crazy things with the parables, finding and binding points where there are none, or tying ourselves into knots trying to explain why both Jesus and the apostles’ teaching are called “the foundation.”  Bible study wouldn’t be nearly as difficult if we used the same common sense with it that we do with everyday language.  That’s why the Holy Spirit used common language—so we could understand
            Eph 6:16 says faith is a shield.  1 Thes 5:8 says faith is a breastplate.  Couldn’t Paul get it right?  Yes he could, and yes he did.  Faith is either one depending upon the point you are trying to make.
            The word for shield is used only that one time in the New Testament that I could find.  In its etymology, it originally referred to the stone that covered the door of a cave.  That immediately brings to mind the stones that covered both Jesus’ and Lazarus’s tomb-caves.  The door had to be heavy so a scavenging animal could not dislodge it.  It had to completely cover the opening so that after four days, as Martha reminded Jesus, the smell wouldn’t get out.
            The word was later used for a specific type of shield—a large rectangular shield that would completely cover the soldier just like that rock covered the cave door.  What did Paul say about the purpose of that shield?  “To quench all the fiery darts of the evil one.”  Did you get that?  It covers so well and is so heavy that none of those darts can get past it.  So whose fault is it when they do?  It’s ours because we stuck something out where it didn’t belong, or completely dropped the shield. 
            Now what about that breastplate in 1 Thes 5:8?  That word is thorax which is now our English word for “chest.”  No, it doesn’t cover the whole soldier like the shield, but it does cover all his vital organs, and it does another thing as well.  A thorax was a piece of armor with two parts, covering both the front and the back.  Faith is like that.  It will help you with the attacks you see coming—and sometimes you can see your problems rushing in head-on—but it will also protect you from surprise attacks from the rear.  Sometimes life deals you an unexpected blow—“didn’t see that one coming,” we often say--but your faith can protect you from even those sorts of things. 
            So is faith a shield or a breastplate?  Faith is both, depending upon the point you are trying to make.  The thing the two metaphors have in common is protection.  God has given us what we need to stay safe.  Don’t get so busy trying to explain things that shouldn’t need explaining that you forget to use it.
 
Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. Ephesians 6:11-13
 
Dene Ward

The days of our years are threescore years and ten, Or even by reason of strength fourscore years; Yet is their pride but labor and sorrow; For it is soon gone, and we fly away (Ps 90:10).
 
At times your mind tends to wander to places it never has before, but probably should have.  When you reach that general rule the psalmist talks about, "threescore and ten," it suddenly dawns on you that anything can happen any day now.  Of course that is true for any age, but now it is true many times over.  I have known people who seemed perfectly healthy in their mid-70s, but who suddenly received a grim diagnosis and were gone in a few months.  Others have been felled by a sudden heart attack, and still others simply did not wake the next morning.
            Then you begin to think about the days ahead in a different way.  I just started a new women's Bible study group.  This study usually takes 2-3 years with a class that meets every week for an hour during the school year.  But this particular group meets once a month for 90 minutes.  It could take us 8-9 years to finish.  Who is to say that I will be able to finish it?
            And then you consider your grandchildren.  My son followed his father's example and did not have his first child until he was thirty.  If his son does the same, I am not likely to see any great-grandchildren.  And that led to some thoughts about the great characters of the Bible.  Abraham lived to be 175.  Isaac was born when he was 100 and had his two sons at 60.  So Jacob and Esau did know their grandfather Abraham, and were 15 at his death (Gen 25:7).  Somehow you never think of Abraham seeing his grandchildren, much less long enough to have developed any kind of relationship with them.
            In the same vein, you can figure out, if you start at his age at death and work backwards, that Jacob was 77 when he went to Haran and 84 when he married his two very young cousins.  Doesn't that put a wrinkle in the heel of your socks!?  And, you can also figure that his first eleven sons and at least one daughter were born in a span of no more than 10 years, maybe as little as 6 or 7.  That's what happens with four wives whose pregnancies can overlap.
            Yes, my mind wanders in strange places sometimes, and what in the world does this have to do with anything anyway?  Well, you may not be my age, but you certainly know people who are there.  Probably your elders and many of the Bible class teachers in your congregation, as well some of the pillars all of you depend upon.  Where will they be in ten years?  In twenty?  Probably gone, and will you be ready to take their places?  It took them many years to gain the knowledge and wisdom they have.  That means it's time for you to begin preparing to take their places.  It's time for you to begin serious study, and to start putting it into practice while they are still around to advise you.  And if you are one of those who thinks they don't need the old fuddy-duddies and their outdated way of doing things, it's time to get an attitude adjustment while you still have someone to fall back on when you make a serious blunder or two.
            And more than that, it's time to get your life before God aligned with his Word.  You may not even have threescore and ten.  I have known far too many young men and women die before they leave their forties, some without warning.  Yes, it can happen to you, too.
            Sometimes thinking rambling thoughts can be a little silly, a little ridiculous, even.  But sometimes they can lead you where you need to go for the sake of your soul.  Sit still long enough, quiet enough, with nothing else in your hands once in a while to think them.
 
It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart (Eccl 7:2).
 
Dene Ward