Twice now I have stood in an emergency room waiting for a doctor to tell me whether or not I would be a relatively young widow, 42 the first time, 48 the second. It is amazing what changes a few unexpected moments can bring about in your attitude. Suddenly you realize what is important. Suddenly the little annoyances of living together every day disappear. You would give anything to pick up after him one more time or put up with an annoying bit of male humor. There is nothing quite like the feeling when the doctor looks into your eyes and says, “He’ll live.”

When you get that reprieve something else happens as well. The next few days, weeks, even years if you allow it to last that long, are sweeter than ever. You revel in those evenings when you can still walk hand in hand around your garden, throw tennis balls for the dogs to chase, or pick wildflowers to fill an empty vase on the countertop. You understand that an exciting life has nothing to do with going places or having things, but rather in being together for as long as possible. And you find yourself bewildered when those around you don’t get it; when they magnify petty grievances or imagined slights into relationship-breaking arguments or silences. What is wrong with these people, you find yourself thinking. Why does it take a tragedy to make us behave like mature adults?

All of us face spiritual emergencies. All of us struggle with temptations, with suffering, and with trials. Sometimes we come through those trials in good shape physically. Other times we may suffer disabilities, the loss of status or worldly goods, the loss of loved ones, even the loss of our own physical lives.

Our souls often lie behind the curtains in a spiritual emergency room. The Great Physician stands over us, comforting us, assuring us that He understands and has, in fact, borne the same woes on His shoulders. He has everything we need to get through this, including the most wonderful prognosis of all.

It will keep us from bitterness because we know that these things are only temporal and fleeting, whether it feels that way right now or not. It will keep us from drowning in sorrow because we know we will see the one we have lost again. It will keep us from throwing our faith away in a moment of despair because, when we believe his words, hope rises to conquer even the forces of Satan.

There is nothing quite like the feeling when He looks into your eyes and says, “You’ll live.”

And the witness is this, that God gave unto us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. He who has the Son has the life; he who has not the Son of God has not the life. These things have I written unto you that you may know that you have eternal life, unto you who believe on the name of the Son of God,  1 John 5:11-13.

Dene Ward            

It is a culinary fact that fat tempers acid. That is why some of the world’s favorite dishes combine a good helping of both. Melted mozzarella offsets a tomato-y pizza sauce. A cheese-stuffed calzone is almost unbearably rich without a small bowl of marinara to dip it in. A homemade pimento cheese sandwich SCREAMS for a homemade dill pickle on the side. The South’s favorite summer treat, a drippy tomato sandwich on high quality white bread, simply must be slathered with a glop of mayo. Fat and acid—the perfect combination; it’s why we dip French fries in ketchup and chips in salsa; it’s why the favorite toppings for a hot dog are ketchup, mustard, relish, and chili. It’s why we put whipped cream on strawberries and why a Key lime pie is just about the perfect dessert.

Trials, tribulations, sufferings and afflictions are the acid tests for Christians. No one wants to go through them, yet we all understand that is what makes us stronger, builds up our faith, keeps us able to endure till the end. All of us would be spiritual wimps without them.  

What we fail to realize is that God gives us plenty of fat to offset them. How many blessings can you count in your life today, not even considering the most wonderful one of all, your salvation? How many good things happened to you just this morning? Did your car start? Did you make it to work safely? Are your children safely ensconced in a safe place? Do you still have a roof over your head? Is there food in your refrigerator? Is the electricity on, the water running and the AC humming away? Are their flowers blooming in your yard and birds singing in the trees? Do you have pleasant memories to calm you in the midst of sorrows? Is there a Bible in your home and are you free to read it whenever you want to? Did you pray to a Father who loves you more than anything else? How many more “fat” items can we come up with? Probably enough to fill even the gigabytes of memory in our computers if we just took the time to think of them. If you have trouble, just ask a three-year-old—they are pros at this.

I don’t mean to make light of people’s problems with this little analogy—but then again, maybe I do. Paul calls them “light afflictions” in 2 Corinthians 4, and he was including persecution to the death in that context. Compared to the end result, compared to the reward, compared to our Savior’s sufferings so we could have that reward, our trials and tribulations are light indeed.

So today, if you are in the middle of a struggle, if the acid is burning your soul, look for the fat God gave you to temper it. Look for everything good in your day, in your life, no matter how small it may seem. If that doesn’t work, and sometimes it doesn’t, remember the good that will result from your testing, and don’t let it be for nothing. Don’t let Satan win. The bigger the tomato, the more mayo God smears on, if you only know where to look.

Wherefore we faint not, for though our outer man is decaying, our inward man is renewed day by day. For this momentary light affliction works for us more and more exceedingly an eternal weight of glory; while we look not at things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal, 2 Cor 4:16-18.

 Dene Ward 

You can learn a lot about a word by looking at its Greek original, even if you aren’t a Greek scholar.  When you see that we are supposed to be “striving” for the faith (Phil 1:27), and you find out the word is sunathleo, how difficult is it to see the English word “athlete” there?  Immediately you know that striving involves hours of disciplined training, a ton of sweat, and a whole lot of determination.  How smart do you really have to be when you discover that “faith working through love” (Gal 5:6), which uses the word energeo, means that you are to work energetically, with an attitude of “do it or bust?”

So in our continuing study of faith I found this passage:  I made supplication for you that your faith fail not…Luke 22:32.  I looked up “fail” and found this Greek word, ekleipo. 

I’ll have to admit—I saw nothing at first.  Finally I looked up other uses of the word and found, just a page over in my Bible, Luke 23:45:  the sun’s light failing.  The context was the crucifixion when, according to the verse just above that one, darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour.      

“Aha!” my feeble brain said, “an eclipse,”--ekleipo.  The light of the sun failed because something overshadowed it.  Now how do I use that in my study of faith “failing?”

Eleven years ago I woke up with what I thought was an earache.  I called the doctor and he prescribed an antibiotic.  The next morning some of the ache was gone, but enough remained for me to discover the true source of the pain—it was a tooth.  I had developed an abscess and the pain had simply radiated to my ear, but the medication at least knocked it back to its original source. This time I called the dentist and left a message.  It was late on a Friday afternoon and I needed to see someone before the weekend. 

By that time, nearly 48 hours into this, I was moaning on the couch, totally unable to function.  I hadn’t even thought about dinner, much less started cooking it, even though I expected Keith home within the hour.  I hadn’t finished putting the clean sheets on the bed, or washed any dishes all day long.  I hadn’t accomplished any bookkeeping, or filled out the forms that were soon due for my students to enter State Contest.  Nothing mattered but that aching tooth and the sore lump now swelling on my jaw line.

A few minutes later the phone rang, and I eagerly snatched it up, expecting a dental assistant.  It was an ex-Little League coach of my sons’.  Keith had suffered something resembling a seizure while riding his bike the thirteen miles home from work, and was lying right in front of his house, in the middle of the rural highway. 

“The ambulance just arrived,” he said.  “I think if you hurry, you can be here before it leaves.”

What do you think I did?  Lie back down and moan some more?  I was out of that house in a flash and did indeed beat the ambulance’s departure for the hospital.  That “seizure” turned out to be a stroke, and I sat in the hospital for five days afterward. 

You can think your faith is important to you.  You can think you would never let anything “eclipse” it.  You can be positive that you are strong enough to handle the most intense trial or the most powerful temptation.  You can be absolutely wrong.

I have seen men who stood for the faith against the ridicule of false teachers commit adultery.  I have seen women who diligently withstood the long trial of caring for a sick mate become bitter against everyone who ever tried to help them, and ultimately against God himself.  I have seen families who were called “pillars of the church” leave that very group when one of their own fell and was chastised. 

Look to that passage I found:  I made supplication for you that your faith fail not.  Jesus was speaking to Peter, who subsequently declared, “I am ready to go both to prison and to death,” but not many hours later, he denied the Lord when those very things confronted him.  He was not prepared, and his faith was eclipsed by fear.

Just as surely as my worry over my husband’s health totally eclipsed a very real and intense pain in my physical body, just as certainly as fear eclipsed the faith of a man like Peter, the events of life can eclipse your faith, causing it to fail.  Carnal emotions can overshadow you—lust, bitterness, resentment, hurt feelings among them.  It’s up to us to keep those things in their proper place, to allow nothing to detract from our faith in a God who promises that none of those things really matter because of the spiritual nature of the life to come.  It is, in fact, up to us to be spiritually minded, instead of carnally minded, to put the physical in the shade and let the light of the Truth shine on the spiritual.

With a spiritual mind-set, nothing can eclipse your faith.  Your faith should, in fact, eclipse everything else.

 If then you were raised together with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated on the right hand of God. Set your mind on the things that are above, not on the things that are upon the earth. For you died, and your life is hid with Christ in God, Colossians 3:1-3.

Dene Ward

Have you ever really listened to one of those commercials about various prescriptions drugs?  
              
“Do not take Wonderdrug if you cannot sit, stand, or lie for longer than an hour, if you are pregnant or might become pregnant, if you have high blood pressure, low blood pressure, heart problems, trouble breathing, or during months beginning with J or ending with R.  Wonderdrug has been known to cause dizziness, memory loss, headaches, earaches, toothaches, infectious diseases,  cancer of all sorts, liver damage, bleeding ulcers, stroke, seizures, heart attack, acne, warts, and, in rare occasions, death.”   In some cases the remedy sounds truly worse than the disease.  I must say, though, I was stopped in my tracks the other day when one commercial warned that the drug might cause “increase in gambling."  Surely they were just trying to get my attention, right?  
              
Lately, I have had so many chemicals poured into me that I have had to
wonder about the remedy in my case as well.  Atropine, Predforte, Phenylephrin,  Zymar, Erithromycin, Alphagan, CoSopt, and Travatan, plus four others by three other doctors, all at the same time, a total of about 60 doses a day at one point.  And then there were the accompanying side effects:  light sensitivity, erratic heartbeat, dry mouth, dizziness, loss of taste, not to mention the eating away of the top layer of my eyeball (epithiliopathy) not once, but twice since then, after it had healed!  Believe it not, stopping the medication would have been worse, though sometimes I was strongly tempted to do so.

Pouring chemicals into your body is not good.  If your body is working correctly, don’t.  

It is no different with sin.  Sin may be attractive.  It may look good, but you will sooner or later suffer the side effects: guilt, shame, and spiritual death. 
As David wrote, For my iniquities have gone over my head; as a heavy burden they are too heavy for me.  My wounds are loathsome and corrupt because of my foolishness, Psa 38:4,5.

Righteousness, on the other hand, offers no painful side effects to the
sin-sick soul.  Instead we receive peace, boldness, strength, hope, joy, and life.  These are not unnatural to the soul; unlike lives of sin, this is the way God intended us to live from the beginning.  
             
Don’t be fooled by the labels the world attaches to sin, labels like “fun,” “security,” and “love.”  Jesus did not call Satan a liar without cause.  Instead, live joyfully, at peace with God, with all the guilt and shame removed from your shoulders.  That is what life in Christ is all about.
 
Being therefore justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have had our access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Rom 5:1,2  
 
Dene Ward

It’s another summer morning in Florida.  Nine o’clock, 76 degrees, yet before you have taken ten steps outside your skin begins to prickle in that way it does just before a sweat breaks out, and your hair begins to wilt or kink, depending upon its natural state of curl or uncurl.  The trees are dripping so that it sounds like rain on the metal carport roofing, and the hazy air is thick enough with humidity to drown you if you breathe too quickly.  The damp ground smells loamy, and in places a little sour.  A film of perspiration has already formed over your lips and your shirt feels like it came out of the dryer five minutes too soon. 

If you stay out longer than a few minutes, the only word that truly describes how you feel is “nasty.”  Sweaty, greasy, grimy, sandy, and swarming with gnats and yellow flies.  As uncomfortable as it is, I still try to get all my yard work done then, before the temperature rises to match the humidity and the sub-tropical sun beats on you as mercilessly as an Egyptian taskmaster.  I spray the underside of my garden hat brim with Off and don my work out clothes.  No need messing up something else with gray grime that will never come out once you have soaked them in the righteous sweat of labor, for dripping with it you will be.

This morning I spent the time in the raised bed around the trellises.  With a wetter summer than we have had in years, the weeds grow more thickly than the grass and flowers.  I weed one bed, and the next week it looks like I haven’t touched it in a month.  So I went around pulling out grass sprigs, dollarweed, castor beans, and half a dozen oak trees.

You read that right—oak trees.  I am not Mrs. Paul Bunyan—none of those discarded oak trees were over 6 inches tall.  Some of them even had the acorn still attached to the roots when I pulled it out of the ground.  It was easy.  One quick rip and up they came.  Pulling up trees is simple when you get them at six inches.  Even waiting till they are a foot tall makes a significant difference in how difficult it is to uproot them.

Yet isn’t that what we do in our lives?  We wait till the soap scum is flaky gray and a quarter inch thick before we get out the scrub brush, when a two minute wipe each week would save us twenty minutes of elbow grease every month.  We wait till the fat rolls over our waistbands, when losing five pounds every six months would save us the agony of an 800 calorie a day diet for a year to lose thirty.  We wait till our lives are falling apart, when realigning ourselves a quarter inch every day would have kept the Devil at bay.

Isn’t it time to wise up a little?  Isn’t it time to do a little work to save the pain that results from neglect? 

Have a conversation with God every day, throughout the day, while you wash those dishes or walk the dog or trim the hedges.  When something serious arises and you really need the help, you won’t have to wonder if He’ll be there for you or if He gave up on you long ago.  (He does do that, you know, give up on people, Jer 11:11; 14:12; Ezek 8:18; Mic 3:4; Zech 7:13, etc.).

Start reading your Bible now, a little every day, adding some serious and diligent study as you go along, learning some good study techniques from those who know them and want so badly to share.  Then when your neighbor asks you a question, you just might be able to answer him, instead of standing there like a fool, red with embarrassment.

Begin working on those problems you have, the ones that nag you day after day.  Make a plan and begin to weed the sin out of your life like a six inch oak tree.  If it becomes the behemoth that stands over your house, you will never get rid of it, but the Devil will be more than happy to take advantage of the shade.

…looking carefully lest there be any man that fall short of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you, and thereby the many be defiled; Hebrews 12:15.

Dene Ward

Whew!  It’s over for another year.  Some of it is in the freezer—blueberries, strawberries, tomato sauce, corn, pole beans, white acre peas, blackeyes, and limas—but quite a bit sits on the shelves of the back pantry in those clear sturdy Mason jars: two kinds of cucumber pickles, squash pickles, okra pickles, pickled banana peppers, pickled jalapenos, tomatoes, salsa, tomato jam, muscadine juice, and muscadine jelly.

The first time I ever canned I was scared to death.  First, the pressure canner scared me.  I had heard too many stories of blown up pots and collard greens hanging from the ceiling, but once I had used it a few times without incident, and really understood how it worked, that fear left me.  I still follow the rules though, or it will blow up.  No amount of sincerity on my part will keep that from happening if I let the pressure get too high. 

I also follow the sterilization rules and the rules about how much pressure for how long and how much acidity is required for steam canning.  Botulism, a food poisoning caused by foods that have been improperly canned, is a particularly dangerous disease.  Symptoms include severe abdominal pain, vomiting, blurred vision, muscle weakness and eventual paralysis.  You’d better believe I carefully follow all the rules for home canning.  I give away a lot of my pickles and jams.  Not only do I not want botulism, I certainly don’t want to give it to anyone else either.

Some folks chafe at rules.  Maybe that’s why they don’t follow God’s rules.  They want to take the Bible and pick and choose what suits them.  “Authority?” they scoff.  “Overrated and totally unnecessary.”  Authority does matter and a lot of people in the Bible found out the hard way.  Whatever you do in word or in deed, do all in the name of {by the authority of} the Lord Jesus…Col 3:17.  You might pay special attention to the context of that verse too.

God’s people were warned over and over to follow His rules, to, in fact, be careful to follow His rules, Deut 5:1.  I counted 31 times in the Pentateuch alone.  Not following those rules resulted in death for many and captivity for others.  When Ezra and Nehemiah brought the remnant back to Jerusalem, once again they were warned, at least five times in those two short books.  Maybe suffering the consequences of doing otherwise made the need for so much repetition a little less.

David had a way of looking at God’s rules that we need to consider.  For I have kept the ways of the Lord, and have not wickedly departed from my God.  For all his rules were before me, and from his statutes I did not turn aside, 2 Sam 22:22,23. Many of David’s psalms talk about God’s rules, but the 119th mentions them 17 times.  David calls those rules good, helpful, comforting, righteous, praiseworthy, enduring, hope-inducing, true, and life-giving.  How can anyone chafe at something so wonderful?

People simply don’t want rules, especially with God.  God is supposed to be loving and kind and accept me as I am.  No.  God knows that the way we are will only bring death.  We must follow the rules in order to live.  We must love the rules every bit as much as David did.  I will praise you with an upright heart when I learn your righteous rules…My soul is consumed with longing for your rules at all times…When I think of your rules from of old, I take comfort, O Lord…Great is your mercy O Lord, give me life according to your rules, 119:7, 20, 52, 156.

I get out my canning guide and faithfully follow their rules every summer.  I never just guess at it; I never say, “That’s close enough.”  I know if I don’t follow those rules someone could die, maybe me or one of my good friends or one of my precious children or grandchildren.  I bet there is something in your life with rules just as important that you follow faithfully.  Why then, are we so careless with the most important rules we have ever been given?

For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome, 1 John 5:3.

Dene Ward

August in Florida—the grapes are coming in.  Every evening after dinner, Keith and I sit in the shade of the grape arbor in the green swing Lucas made in high school shop class, munching grapes.  In Florida grapes are large, thick skinned muscadines and scuppernongs, bronze or a purple so dark it almost looks black.  We spit out the more bitter skins, and Chloe and Magdi wander around under our feet scarfing them up like little furry scavengers.  When we are too slow to suit them, Chloe wanders back to the vine and picks her own.

Sometimes I think grapes must be God’s favorite fruit.  The symbolism in the scriptures begins in Genesis where both Judah and Joseph are described as grapevines, and travels on throughout the scriptures.  The promise of the Messiah is pictured as a time when shall sit every man under his vine…and none shall make them afraid, Micah 4:4.  Both Old Testament Israel and New Testament spiritual Israel, the church, are called vineyards (Isa 5:1-7; Mt 20:1-16).  Jesus says, I am the vine in John 15, and in the memorial feast we partake of every first day of the week, we drink the fruit of the vine, grape juice, which symbolizes his shedding of blood—not that he simply cut himself and bled one day, but that he died for our sins.

But the symbolism is not always pleasant.  In a prophecy about Judah’s coming destruction the prophet Zephaniah says, And their wealth shall become a spoil, and their houses a desolation; yes, they shall build houses, but shall not inhabit them; and they shall plant vineyards, but shall not drink the wine thereof, 1:13.

One of the most terrifying prophecies in the Old Testament also contains the symbolism of grapes and grape juice.

Who is this that comes from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah? He who is glorious in his apparel, marching in the greatness of his strength?  

I who speak in righteousness, mighty to save.

Why are you red in your apparel, and your garments like him that treads in the wine vat? 

I have trodden the winepress alone; and of the peoples there was no man with me: yes, I trod them in my anger, and trampled them in my wrath; and their lifeblood is sprinkled upon my garments, and I have stained all my raiment   For the day of vengeance was in my heart.. . And I trod down the people in my anger, and made them drunk in my wrath, and I poured out their lifeblood on the earth.   Isa 63:1-4,6.

Every evening I once again have the opportunity to reflect on how I want the symbolism of the grapes to manifest itself in my life.  Do I want it to be my blood sprinkling the robe of an angry God, who tramples the wicked like grapes in a winepress, or will I accept the blood of the spotless Lamb of God, who died for me, so I can sit under my vine and not be afraid? 

Don’t ever forget that the choice is ours to make.

I am the vine; you are the branches.  He who abides in me, and I in him, the same bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.  If a man does not abide in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered, and they gather them and cast them into the fire, and they are burned.  If you abide in me and my words abide in you, ask whatever you will, and it will be done unto you.  Herein is the Father glorified:  that you bear much fruit; and so shall you be my disciples, John 15:5-8.       

Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.

When we started gardening in Illinois, the second year of our marriage, I wanted a hoe like the one I grew up using.  I could not find one in any of the hardware stores. This hoe has two opposite blades with a hole in the center: One blade is narrow, about an inch or an inch and a half wide, and works wonderfully for laying out rows; the other blade spreads to about 4 inches wide and works well for chopping weeds or breaking up rain-packed beds.  I have never seen another hoe that could do both.  Few other hoes are such heavy gauge steel.  When I was a child, Mom used it in place of a tiller since we never had one of those.  My sister and I were tasked to beat the dirt out of the grass clods and toss the grass aside. Finally, I asked Dad to get me one and he had to order it.  I doubt that he let me pay for it.

We marked a place on the handle with electrical tape to know how far apart to put the garden rows.  For years, I would rent or borrow a tiller in the spring and then that hoe did all our gardening thereafter.  After I got a tiller, one year it rained so much I could not use it and the ground was turning sour and the plants dying.  I stood in mud to my knees, with my feet sunken to the hardpan clay underneath, and hoed the surface to aerate the soil and managed to save our harvest.

A few years ago, the handle rotted some at the end and the hoe tended to rotate so I filled it in with JB Weld.  It finally broke after 38 years of service.  I searched 3 hardware stores before I found a handle.  I put a healthy dose of JB Weld where the hoe would fit and put the hoe in a vise and drove the handle on with a 3 pound hammer.  Then I smoothed the JB Weld on both sides and kept rotating it in the sun so it would not drip until it dried. This hoe should be good for 40 years which is more than you can say for me.

I liked that hoe because it was the kind I grew up with.  Is that why you like your church?

…to make all men see what is the dispensation of the mystery which for ages has been hid in God who created all things; to the intent that now unto the principalities and the powers in the heavenly places might be made known through the church the manifold wisdom of God, according to the eternal purpose which he purposed in Christ Jesus our Lord: Ephesians 3:9-11.

Keith Ward

I was watching the sprinkler zzzt-zzzt-zzzt its way across the garden the other day. Usually the end of April and most of May are dry. The afternoon thundershowers don’t start until the humidity and temperature both reach the 90s, so to keep the garden alive, we have to irrigate. Keith has various methods he uses, a drip hose, a sprinkler, and simple hand-watering, depending upon the crop and its weaknesses. Some plants are more prone to fungus, so you keep their leaves as dry as possible by hand-watering, directing the water to the bottom of the plant. Sometimes Keith spends as long as two hours in an evening watering.

But as soon as the summer rains start, the garden takes off. It becomes obvious that, despite all the time spent, all we did was help the garden survive until the real thing came along. The plants almost explode they grow so much faster and produce so much better. Chemically the water may be the same, but out here in the country everyone knows that irrigation is a distant second to God’s watering.

Should that surprise us? Adam and Eve made themselves aprons of fig leaves. God came along and made them garments of skins. I know which one I had rather wear on a cool evening. Men made gods of stone and wood and metal. Jehovah is a spirit with no beginning or end. I know which one I had rather rely on to take care of me. Under the old covenant, the blood of bulls and goats could only put away the sins for a year at a time. The blood of a perfect, unblemished sacrifice puts them away forever. I know which one I had rather count on for my salvation.

When it comes to God, there is no substitute for the real thing. 

God understands the way to it, and he knows its place. For he looks to the ends of the earth and sees everything under the heavens. When he gave to the wind its weight, and apportioned the waters by measure, when he made a decree for the rain and a way for the lightning of the thunder, then he saw it and declared it, he established it and searched it out. And he said to man, Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding, Job 28:23-28.

 Dene Ward 

I can remember my daddy uttering those very words every time we pulled up to what was then called a “service station,” a glassed-in office with two service bays and usually two gas islands, sporting regular, premium and mid-grade pumps, the older models rounded on the top and the newer ones square-cornered and squat.  An attendant came out of one of the bays, called to us by the double-ding of the bell hoses we ran over with both front and rear tires, usually wiping his hands with a greasy blue rag, and did the honors while we sat in the car waiting.  He also checked the water in the radiator and battery, and cleaned the windshields.  When the pump kicked off, he carefully finished filling the tank and then bent his head to the open window to tell us the amount we owed.  If we paid cash, he brought back change.  If we used our gas company credit card, he took it and ran it, bringing back a dark blue clipboard with slip attached and a pen for a signature.

We never left the car, never lifted a finger.  It was all done for us.  Maybe that’s why we seem to expect God to “fill ‘er up” without having to make any effort at all ourselves.  Maybe that’s what we’re thinking when we sit in our pews on Sunday morning—we’re expecting the teachers, songleaders, and preachers to “fill ‘her up.” 

“I didn’t get anything out of services this morning,” we say, as if that were the only purpose to our being there, to allow others to wait on us just like an attendant at an old-fashioned service station; as if that were the only possible way to fill oneself up spiritually.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled, Matt 5:6.  Do we really think that righteousness can be poured in like gasoline, that we can sit passively while it happens?

John tells us, Whoever practices righteousness is righteous, 1 John 3:7.  Being filled with righteousness has far more to do with what I do anywhere else besides a church building than it does with listening to a sermon and expecting to walk away holy because of it.

God also expects us to fill ourselves with knowledge.  Anyone who thinks that comes from osmosis on Sunday mornings as we doze in our pews or play with the babies in front of us had better not apply for a school teaching job any time soon. You won’t keep it long.

Paul says, And so, from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God, Colossians 1:9-10.  Becoming knowledgeable takes work far above and beyond listening to a couple hours a week of sermons and Bible classes.  Making it stick means applying what you learn, “bearing fruit” as you put that knowledge into practice.

But others have the problem of which tank to use.  They seem satisfied with “regular.”  My daddy worked for Gulf Oil so we always went to Gulf stations.  “Regular” was called “Good Gulf” and premium was called “Gulftane,” a play on the fact that the octane was higher.  A soul created in the image of God requires nothing less than premium.

I read a book once in which the writer was at a loss to know how to refill herself after giving so much to marriage, children, and society.  Her problem was thinking she could do it herself, with things that have no eternal existence and purpose.  She was trying to fill up on “regular.”   Christians know better.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope, Romans 15:13.

“Fill ‘er up,” we used to say to the gas attendant.  Far more important, we should say it to God, and then do our part as He fills us to the brim.  It’s the only way to keep your life from running on empty.

And it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God, Philippians 1:9-11.

Dene Ward