Being married to a law enforcement officer who is also a certified firearms instructor means you get free shooting lessons—whether you want them or not.  I have learned many things, and used them—just ask the snake community in this area.  I am sure they know all about the crazy lady who shoots till they quit wiggling.

I also learned that even handguns, especially big handguns like Keith’s .45 magnum (think Matt Dillon) can have a kick. I haven’t dared try it because of my experience with his smaller .357 revolver.  I am a pianist.  Good pianists use their wrists like shock absorbers—they go down as you approach the keyboard and pull up the instant the key has been struck.  That is what creates a smooth, warm tone rather than a harsh, jarring one.  A loose wrist is a must for pianists, but is not good when you are shooting a big gun.  For one thing, the recoil on a loose wrist hurts; for another you nearly give yourself a black eye with the barrel as it swings back at you.  I simply cannot seem to keep a stiff arm when shooting!

That may not be something you need to worry about since most of you are not pianists.  But a basic rule for everyone is:  if you want to hit the target, you have to aim at it first.  You would be surprised how many do not aim correctly—it’s all about sight alignment.  But even that presupposes that one has the sense to aim at the target.

Unfortunately, many of us do not have that kind of sense when we attempt to become better people.  An old saying goes, “Aim at nothing and that’s what you will hit every time.”  We go around “trying to get better,” or “trying to do better,” but we will never be better till we can answer the question, “Better at what?”  Unfortunately, that means we have to ditch the pride and actually list our faults—specifically, not generally.  And when we mess up, we must be willing to acknowledge it.

I have heard this statement all my life, usually from people who have been Christians a long time:  “If I have done anything wrong, then I’m sorry.”  That’s supposed to be a confession?  What that is, is someone who knows better than to claim perfection, but who thinks he has it anyway! 

Here is my chore today:  make a list of my faults and weaknesses--specific problems I have.  It may be obvious things like lying, gossiping, drinking, or losing my temper.  But it might also be things like being oversensitive, assuming the worst about people, holding a grudge and trying to get even—treating people the way they treat me.  Whatever I list, pray about them, find some scriptures that deal with them, and meditate on those.  At the end of the day, make an honest assessment of how I did and [probably] pray for forgiveness.  Keep at it every day.  Make a note of the particular circumstances that cause me to fail.  When I see them beginning, get away if I can.  If it is impossible, immediately slow down and think before every word or action.  And always remember:  The Lord is at hand [right next to me], Phil 4:5.

That is a lot to do, especially every day.  But remember—the only way to hit a target is to aim at it.  God bless us all as we try to become what He would have us be.

Wherefore also we make it our aim, whether at home or absent, to be well-pleasing unto him.  For we must all be made manifest before the judgment-seat of Christ; that each one may receive the things done in the body, according to what he has done, whether it is good or evil.  2 Cor 5:9.10

Dene Ward

Tarragon is a difficult herb.  It’s even hard to find at the local garden shops.  You have to go to the independent, specialty shops where everything costs twice as much.  Then when you get it, it’s hard to grow.  Not only is the flavor delicate, so is the plant.  I have killed more than my share of these fragile babies. 

But speaking of delicate flavor, it is almost paradoxical that something so delicate is also so distinctive.  Like cilantro, you know when a dish has even a hint of tarragon in it, but at the same time it won’t take over.  Tarragon in a chicken salad makes it a main event, and I have a pork chop recipe with tarragon cream sauce that turns that mundane diner staple into fine dining.

As I said, I usually wind up killing whatever tarragon plants I manage to find.  I always thought it was the heat, but maybe it’s me.  Somehow, last year’s plant survived until frost.  Then I got another wonderful surprise.  This spring it came back from the root.  I didn’t believe it at first.  It looked like tarragon, and it was in the same spot as the plant last summer, but I still didn’t believe it—not until I pinched off a leaf and smelled it.  Yesssss!  This year I don’t have to comb the garden shops looking for another one to kill.  It’s right there in my herb bed, waiting for its execution day.

Speaking of these sorts of things, I find it bewildering that people get themselves so wrought up over whether or not the Lord’s church existed somewhere in hiding in the Middle Ages.  Maybe it did; maybe it didn’t.  Maybe there actually was a spell when no one alive even bothered trying to follow the New Testament pattern.  Why should that affect my faith?  The seed is the Word of God, Luke 8:11.  We still have that seed.  We can still plant it and it will produce after its own kind, just as God ordained for every seed from the moment He created the first one. 

Sometimes we keep leftover seeds in the freezer.  If we had a bumper crop and I put up way too much corn, I may not plant any the next year, or even the next.  But when I get that seed out, as I did a few weeks ago, we can plant it again, and lo and behold there is now corn growing in the garden, a few silks already turning brown. It will happen every time we plant that seed, no matter how long it’s been since the last time we planted it.  The same will happen when we plant the Word of God, the seed that produces Christians.

And what’s more, we still have the Root, and that’s even better.  As long as the gospel exists and we can preach about that Root, the one who came to earth, lived as we do, died, and rose again, faith will spring up from that Root, and the Lord’s body will once again exist. 

Why is this so surprising?  Why indeed should it bother me one way or the other if I trust God?  He ordained this rule.  Who could ever undo it?  And Abraham believed God and it was reckoned unto him for righteousness. (Rom 4:3).  Do you believe Him?

And again Isaiah says, "The root of Jesse will come, even he who arises to rule the Gentiles; in him will the Gentiles hope." 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 15:12-13

(For this recipe, go to "Dene's Recipes" page)

Dene Ward

It is easy to write a rant when you are upset about something, or feel an injustice has been done.  Maybe that is why this is coming so easily to me.  I have heard too many people denigrate women’s Bible studies, disregard them as something “sweet” or even “cute,” as in, “Isn’t that cute?” when we see children mimicking adult behaviors.  And I have seen good ones branded with the failures of bad ones, judged so because somewhere some other group of women gave all women’s classes the bad reputation of gossiping hen parties.  My sisters at the Glen Springs Road congregation of the Lord’s people put the lie to that notion.

We have been meeting for over twenty years now.  What do we study?  We study the Word of God.  Even when we use a study guide of some sort, it is one that always directs us to the Word.  Maybe three times in twenty years we have used a book that had opinions and commentary in it, and all three times we had no problem at all pointing to our Bibles and saying, “Well, the author got that one wrong.”  What we have NOT used is what Mama believed, what we’ve always heard, and “what we feel comfortable with.”

We have become a close knit group.  We have a rule:  what happens in class, stays in class.  That means we can open up with private problems and expect confidentiality.  It means we can ask questions that would have been embarrassing in a mixed class.  It means we can ask why and not be immediately accused of heresy.  It means we can comment and the comment will be treated seriously, instead of being passed off by a male teacher who was too busy looking ahead in his notes because a woman was speaking and he figured it wouldn’t be worth much anyway.

We love.  If anyone needs help on a given day, we give it.  We support, encourage, enlighten, and correct, even if it takes half the class.  On occasion we have met in hospital rooms.  Other times we have met at the home of a sister in need and spent a couple of hours serving instead of studying.  Many hands can accomplish much, and isn’t doing the point of learning?

We begin every class discussing others—not a gossip fest, but a list of who needs help—food, housework, transportation; who needs prayers, who needs a pat on the back or a visit.  We all share whatever information we have and then pray some of the most heartfelt prayers you will ever hope to hear.  We go through more Kleenexes than a community with a flu epidemic.  Then we go out and put the feet to those prayers.

And we study.  Really study. And discuss.  Really discuss.  And learn.  Really learn.  I have seen light bulbs go off in faces over and over.  Every woman there has changed her mind about something major simply because a moment arose when she said, “I never thought of it that way before.”  And ultimately, lives have changed.  I have seen all of these women grow in the past twenty years to become the kind of women you would hope you could be some day, the kind we often remember long after they are gone because of the example they set and the wisdom they shared.

It’s catching.  Another group began on Sunday afternoons about nine years ago—once a month for two hours, following a shared lunch.  It has blossomed in the same way, and I cannot see it stopping any time soon.

And so I praise my sisters, just as Paul so often praised his brothers and sisters at the end of his epistles.  They have taught me every bit as much as I have taught them.  I often go home with new ideas to think about from simple comments they share.  I challenge you to make your women’s Bible classes every bit as praiseworthy.

And I look forward some day to a huge gathering of sisters from all places and all times, but essentially the same women I have met with all these years—faithful, devout, humble, and good—women of God who will worship Him together forever.

Many daughters have done worthily, But you excel them all. Grace is deceitful, and beauty is vain; But a woman who fears Jehovah, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands; And let her works praise her in the gates. Proverbs 31:29-31

Dene Ward

I am a technophobe.  I hate all these new contraptions.  Whenever something goes wrong and I have to fiddle with them, I get so worried about it that I get sick to my stomach.  I have absolutely no aptitude for them.  You want to know how hopeless I am?  I even managed to delete the whole Bible from a Bible study program once.     

I recently had a run-in with my TV.  Somehow the thing decided to take the picture and squish it in from the sides, elongating all the faces in the process.  To make up for that, it chopped off the tops of heads and the bottoms of chins.  I tried to fix it myself.  A good friend told me there was nothing I could do that could not be undone.  She had not reckoned with anyone like me.  I hit a button I did not mean to hit and the whole picture disappeared.  So I hit it again to undo it, right?  Wrong!  All I got was a baby blue box telling me there was no signal.

“No signal?” I said aloud to my television.  “If you are so smart, tell me something I can’t figure out myself!” I hate it when a machine riles me to the point that I actually talk out loud to it.    

After several frantic hours, my good friend arranged a conference call between the tech support people and the two of us.  (I don’t like to talk with them.  There is no way I can hide the fact that I am an idiot.)  We got my picture back, but it took sliding a lever that I was warned never to touch, and never had—I promise!  Like I said, I can really mess things up.

During all of this I learned that I have an amazing TV.  It can let me watch several channels at once.  It can take messages for me.  It can lull me to sleep and then turn itself off.  I never knew all that.  But you know what I want?  I want a TV with an on/off switch, a channel changing knob, and a volume knob.  I want a TV you can buy off the rack, take home, plug in and watch.  Period.  Well, maybe I wouldn’t mind if it brought me a cup of coffee every morning.  But do they make a TV like that?  Of course not.

I have issues with my computer too.  I want it to type and print, and I have gotten attached to the email function, as well.  But that is all I want.  It infuriates me when it tells me that I cannot do what I want to do.  Then when it tells me I am doing something illegal, I really get angry.  I guess there is a reason Keith keeps his hammer in the shed.

But now that I think about it, we do the same thing to God.  How many times do we hear, or even make the statement ourselves, “I don’t think God would mind this.”  “I think God will understand.”  Or the even more arrogant and judgmental, “I can’t believe God would let this happen,” as if we had a right to approve or disapprove God’s actions.

What would you do if you changed the channel one day, and the TV flipped it to another?  After several tries, the baby blue box pops on the screen saying, “You cannot watch that other show.  I like this one better.”

What would you do if you tried to delete a file on your computer, and the “save” box kept coming up instead?  After several tries that gray box pops up and says, “I don’t want to delete this.  I like it.  Hit the save button.”

Aren’t we glad God doesn’t have a hammer handy?  Not that he couldn’t just create one out of thin air, which emphasizes the point.  He is patient, when many times we do not deserve it.  I need to take note of my aggravation with the aggravating machines in my life, and make sure I am no longer an aggravating creation to him. 

He says it, I do it.  Period. 

The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some count slackness, but is longsuffering toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance, 2 Pet 3:9.

Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.   

"Wow, look at that sunset over the Santa Rosa Sound!" 
Huh? Oh, last night's was better.

"The early morning sunlight sparkling off the Sound is very pretty."
*Yawn* I can't wait to get to work and get my coffee.

"This sugar sand beach is amazing!"
Yeah, but it’s really hard to walk on.

"Watching dusk fall over the Gulf sure can lead to introspection, can't it?"
The gnats are bad tonight, let's go in.

Seems like we as people often forget what we have. It is easy for the amazing to become old hat. We take things for granted, at least I do. Does this ever fall into our spiritual lives? 

"I GET to worship with my brethren tonight!"
Duh, it’s Wednesday. I HAVE to be there by seven. (Still not used to that time.)

"Isn't the plan of salvation amazing? All the intricacies of foreshadowing and teaching in the Old Testament leading to the sacrifice of God's own Son?"

Huh? Yeah, its great that we don't have worry about sin. Um. . . what foreshadowing? 

"Can you believe that we can hold in our hands the inspired Word of God and learn from Him what He wants?" 
Yeah, I just leave my Bible in the car so I never forget to take it to church.

"We can talk to God!" 
Yeah, I pray at every meal.

 Do we take our salvation for granted?  The blessings of the church?  Isn't it a shame that the new converts often outstrip those "raised in the church" in enthusiasm?  We've known it all our lives; shouldn't we be farther along, and more deeply excited by our greater knowledge? Yet the best teachers/students at some churches are the men and women who were converted as adults. The Christians "raised in the church" are often the pew fillers.

Part of the problem may be that we don't understand the boon that Christ offers us, since we never experienced the emptiness and depression often felt by those who don't know why they are here and where they are going, and who have no hope of getting away from past mistakes. We have been taught from childhood about who we are and where we are going and what we need to do, and have in some ways missed the excitement of finding something that gives peace from horrible mistakes and a hope to live for. We all sin, though, and we need to understand how great God's forgiveness is.  As we advance through life, peace from the trials of the world becomes a greater and greater need.

Familiarity breeds contempt, the old saying goes.  We need to become excited again. We must never allow familiarity to rob us of the amazement at the wonders the Lord has worked in us.

Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom which cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, Heb 12:28.

Lucas Ward

Accepting new truths can be difficult sometimes.  Especially if I learned it from “good old brother So-and-So” or my parents, it becomes nearly impossible to think they might have been wrong about anything.  Or, irrationally, I might think that accepting something different from what they believed makes them wrong, but not accepting it somehow keeps them right.  When I hear others refusing clear truth for these reasons, I wonder if they do not realize what they are saying about their mentors or their parents.  Surely they believe these people had enough intellectual integrity to change their minds if someone showed them clear evidence otherwise, don’t they?  In that sense, what they are doing is no longer loyalty, but an insult.

Jesus spent an entire sermon undoing people’s misconceptions, things “they had always been taught.”  You have heard it was said…but I say unto you…peppered what we call the Sermon on the Mount.  These concepts were not foreign to the Law, as we sometimes seem to believe; it has always been wrong to lust after a woman, and it has always been wrong to verbally abuse someone, as well as the other things Jesus listed.  He was simply undoing the misinterpretations of the scribes and rabbis. They changed a guideline of the heart that should have led to sincere, overflowing service to God and mankind to nothing more than “the least I have to do mechanically to remain in good standing with God,” which many times was more burdensome than the Law itself. 

The Pharisees did not accept Jesus for exactly this reason:  he did not match the picture of the Messiah and his kingdom they had always believed in.  No matter that he quoted and explained scriptures to them, they would not listen.  What was this?  A king who was poor, who did not own property, who led no mighty army?  It did not help that Jesus’ version of the kingdom stripped them of the power they hoped to have, and the status they currently enjoyed.  A kingdom where publicans, harlots, Samaritans, and Gentiles were equal with them?  Impossible! 

Because of that bias, they refused the scriptures that were laid before them, and became more and more incensed until they were willing to commit murder to remove the teacher and the doctrine that distressed them so.  Would we have so adamantly refused the truth just because it was not “what I’ve always heard” or worse, perhaps, “not what I want to hear?”  Do we, too, have misconceptions about the King and his Kingdom?

Every time we talk to a neighbor about the gospel, we expect them to readily give up their lifelong beliefs simply because we show them a scripture.  Shouldn’t we be willing to do the same?  The next time someone comes at a scripture from a different angle than I have always heard, I need to catch myself before I instantly reject his point.  I need to listen with an open mind.  Growth implies change.  When was the last time I changed my mind about something in the scriptures?  Do I really think I know it all?  If good old brother So-and-So who taught me is half the brother he ought to be, he would be upset with me if I weren’t willing to consider a different view than his. 

And the brethren immediately sent away Paul and Silas by night to Berea, who, when they arrived, went into the synagogue of the Jews.   Now these were more noble than those in Thessalonica in that they received the word with all readiness of mind, searching the scriptures daily to see whether these things were so.  Many of them, therefore, believed… Acts 17:10-12 

Dene Ward

 For twenty-two years on this rural five acres we didn’t have a carport.  For over two decades our vehicles were at the mercy of sub-tropical sun, thunder and lightning, hail, hurricanes, and once even an inch of snow.  Not once were the cars or trucks we owned damaged during that time.

Seven years ago we had a slab poured and a carport erected.  “Whew!” we sighed with relief.  “Now we’re safe.”

The next summer we were expecting guests and since the forecast called for a few showers, we moved the car out so the children would have a dry place to play.  Everyone left and we went inside to clean up.  When we came back outside to move the car back into the carport, a tree limb had fallen and put a dent in the trunk—a big one, and knocked off a half dollar size chunk of paint too.  All those years we were concerned and careful, nothing happened.  As soon as we thought we were safe, we weren’t.

One who is wise is cautious and turns away from evil, but a fool is reckless and careless, Proverbs 14:16.  How careful are you out there in the world?  Do you heed the warnings about evil companions corrupting good morals, and the Devil as a roaring lion hunting his prey (1 Cor 15:53; 1 Pet 5:9)?  Or are you so confident in your own righteousness that you are careless, moving away from the safety of the “carport?”

How many times has a parent sent his child out with all the usual cautions only to have that child sigh and roll his eyes and say something like, “Yes, yes, I know,” shaking his head as he goes out the door?  I don’t care how well your life has gone until now, how safe and smart you think you are, one bad decision can ruin everything for a lifetime.  Keep it under the carport!

How many times has a happily married man, supremely confident of his self-control, seen someone attractive, flirted a little “just for fun,” and wound up doing exactly what he never thought he ever would?  No matter how strong you think you are, don’t dally with the Devil—keep it under the carport!

How many times has a Christian stepped over the line “just this once,” “to see what I’m missing,” or “so I know what I’m up against,” meaning to return immediately to the fold, but never making that return trip because that little fling cost him his life?  Life isn’t certain—keep it under the carport!

You think I’m crazy don’t you, just because a limb fell on my car.  The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice, Prov 12:15.

And if coming from me isn’t good enough—and really, why should it be?—then how about God?  By the fear of the Lord one turns away from evil, Prov 16:6.  My flesh trembles for fear of you, and I am afraid of your judgments, Psa 119:120.  Job said if he had done anything wrong, then let my shoulder blade fall from my shoulder, and let my arm be broken from its socket. For I was in terror of calamity from God, and I could not have faced his majesty. 31:22-23. If no one else can do it, then let God put the fear in you—keep it under the carport!

We wear seat belts every time because we never know when we will have an accident.  We get our inoculations because we never know when we might be exposed to a disease.  We have smoke alarms in our homes because we never know when a fire might break out.  We do all these things because it’s common sense.  So are the things God’s Word tells us about how to stay out of the clutches of sin and the Devil. 

You’d better believe that from now on, my car will stay under the carport!  How about your soul?

For you yourselves are fully aware that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. While people are saying, "There is peace and security," then sudden destruction will come upon them as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and they will not escape. 1 Thessalonians 5:2-3

Dene Ward

I have been studying giving lately and came across an interesting tidbit.  In 2 Cor 9:7, when Paul says God loves a cheerful giver, the Greek word there, translated “cheerful,” is hilaron.  You can see it, can’t you?  Two English words we get from that are hilarious and hilarity.  God loves a hilarious giver!

It isn’t enough not to grumble when we give, no matter what we are giving or when, be it money, time, goods, or encouragement, on Sunday mornings or individual opportunities during the week.  It isn’t enough not to begrudge the things we are giving up when our sharing deprives us of them.  One of the reasons God says we should work is so we will “have whereof to give to him who needs,” Eph 4:28, not so we can have everything our hearts desire.

Would you say a movie was “hilarious” if you chuckled once or twice?  Would you call a joke “hilarious” if it simply made you smile?  The word is a joyousness that bubbles over, that cannot be controlled, that you do not want to control.  Vine’s describes it as a “joyfulness that is prompt to act.”  You don’t need a cattle prod to make this person give; the joy he feels in giving takes care of it automatically.

I grew up seeing someone stand before our assemblies saying, “Separate and apart from the Lord’s Supper,” just before passing the basket.  But no matter how much I heard that phrase, as a child I always thought there were three elements to the Lord’s Supper.  And though now, as an adult, I know better, the fact that we often pass the plate within minutes of that ritual keeps me quiet and solemn when I put that check in.  I wonder if we ought not to at least smile when we do it.  Look at one another and share the joy of sacrificing a little something to the Lord.  In this blessed country we get precious little chance to feel any pain on his behalf.

On Sunday morning, when that basket comes by, look at someone near you with gladness in your heart.  And if you hear someone laughing, smile. Maybe someone’s joy has finally overflowed.

But this I say, he who sows sparingly shall also reap sparingly; and he who sows bountifully shall reap also bountifully.  Let each man do according as he has purposed in his heart, not grudgingly or of necessity, for God loves a cheerful [joyous, bubbling over, prompt to act, hilarious] giver, 2 Cor 9:6,7.

Dene Ward

As soon as the garden is planted it starts—our evening stroll to see how it fares, what has come up, what is bearing, what is ripe and ready to pick the next morning, which plants show signs of disease or insects, and then, what should we do about it.  It’s a habit, a ritual almost, one we look forward to every year.

Sometimes I think that God must love gardens too.  The first place he built for man, the perfect place, was a garden--and Jehovah planted a garden, eastward, in Eden, and there he put the man whom he had formed, Gen 2:8.  And it was in that garden that He walked with man every evening.  I wonder what they talked about.  Probably a lot of the things we talk about—but then maybe not.

What will be ripe tomorrow?  Yes, they might have discussed that, because Eden probably produced a bumper crop.  Do we need to spray for bugs?  No, not that, for bugs were not a problem.  What will be ready for supper tomorrow night?  Yes, the choice was probably endless.  Do we need to pull the plants that are infected with blight so they won’t infect others?  No, definitely not that question--at least not at the beginning.  Eventually, though, Adam was discussing with Eve exactly what we discuss about our far from perfect garden.  Yes, we need to spray.  Yes, we need to water.  Yes, we need to pull those weeds out before they choke out the plants, and I sure hope there’s enough produce to put up for next year too!

We each have a garden.  The Song of Solomon uses the term to refer to the physical body and chastity.  I have no trouble using it to refer to my soul as well.  Shouldn’t I be out there every evening with God, surveying that garden, examining it for pests and disease, looking for wilt and fungus, making decisions about how to save that garden and make it bear the most fruit for the Lord?

Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves. Or do you not realize this about yourselves, that Jesus Christ is in you?--unless indeed you fail to meet the test! 2 Corinthians 13:5

Prove me, O LORD, and try me; test my heart and my mind. Psalms 26:2

Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!  Psalms 139:23-24

We even sing that last one.  Do we mean it?  Do we really want to look closely enough to see how to properly tend our gardens, gardens that belong to God?  Are we really willing to look through His word long enough and deeply enough to find our faults and fix them?

Every evening God expects you to meet Him in that garden of a soul, to plant His word in it and tend it as necessary, even if it becomes painful.  He knows it is the only way for that garden to produce, so that you can someday be in the new Garden of Eden with Him.

The righteous flourish like the palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the LORD; they flourish in the courts of our God. They still bear fruit in old age; they are ever full of sap and green, to declare that the LORD is upright; he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him. Psalms 92:12-15

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, 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 beware 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, 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 heads?

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