I have discovered a new body part.  It is called the “forgetter.”  A few weekends ago, it ran in overdrive.  On Saturday morning I melted the butter, then forgot to put it in the pecan waffle batter.  I preheated the waffle iron on high, then forgot to turn it down to medium.  Tough black waffles were not what I planned for breakfast.

On Sunday morning I seasoned the roast with salt, pepper, fresh thyme and marjoram, browned it in olive oil, chopped some onions, garlic, and celery and sautéed them in the drippings, deglazed the pan, then put everything back in with potatoes and carrots. Sounds like a great cooking show, right?  I set the temperature on the oven, set the timer to start while we were gone, and walked out of the house without turning it on!  I knew we were in trouble when I walked in and sniffed and that aroma that instantly makes your stomach stand up and beg was missing.

I always used to think the passage in James about the man who looks into the mirror and then walks away forgetting what he saw, was a little farfetched.  But now I regularly look at myself in the mirror every morning, walk away and get sidetracked making a bed or sorting laundry, taking a phone call or paying a bill, and forget to comb my hair until I look again a couple of hours later.  Lucky for me I have a head full of curls and the style these days is to look like your hair has not seen a comb for three weeks.  Celebrities pay big bucks for such a look.  So I can get by, right?  Everyone will think I just have the same hairstyle as some glamorous movie star.  When I looked out and said good morning to the meter reader the other day, the look he gave me said he was not fooled a bit.

So it is not as difficult now to realize that people can look at the mirror of God’s word and walk away, forgetting to change themselves.  They are as easily distracted by the “cares and riches and pleasures of this life,” as I am by assorted housekeeping duties, and the Word is choked out of them, Luke 8:14.   But change is the essence of repentance; it is the point where self is pushed aside, and obedience and service to the Lord becomes my reason for living.  If I can see in God’s word what I need to be and do, and then walk away without doing it, I have not turned my life over to Him—I have not been converted, or else I have turned my back on that commitment like an unfaithful spouse.  That is why the Old Testament prophets call it spiritual adultery. 

Sometimes I forget because I want to forget.  In a culture where self-control is a scarce commodity, it’s easier to say, “That’s just the way I am.”  It’s even easier to never look in the mirror in the first place because I do not want to see anything wrong with myself.  But God won’t be fooled any more easily than my meter reader was.

Remember to look in the mirror this morning, and don’t forget what you see.

But be doers of the word and not hearers only, deluding yourselves.  For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man seeing his natural face in a mirror; for he sees himself and goes away, immediately forgetting what kind of man he saw.  But he who looks into the perfect law of liberty, and so continues, being not a hearer that forgets, but a doer who works, this man shall be blessed in his doing.  James 1:22-25.

Dene Ward

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 in question 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 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

Will the Lord cast off forever?  Will he be favorable no more?  Is his mercy clean gone forever? Do his promises fail for evermore?  Has God forgotten to be gracious?  Has he in anger shut up his tender mercies? Psalm 77:7-9

            I have had some difficult days in the past few years; days when, like the Psalmist, I wondered where God was, and why He had left me.

            I get angry with myself during those times.  At this stage of my walk with Him, this should not happen any more, should it?

            But then I remember standing by my father’s bed in CCU, in a quiet broken only by low murmurs from the nurses’ station, and the beeps, wheezes, and dings of the machinery keeping him alive.  All the tubes and hoses fastened to him were almost more than I could bear to look at, and I usually found myself watching the vitals monitor.  You know what I wanted to see then?  Up and down.  Up and down.  Up and down.  The last thing in the world I wanted to see was a flat line.

            You see, the question isn’t, do you have some down days?  The question is, do you come back up?  A flat-liner is dead.  Ups and downs mean you are dealing with the vagaries of life, some days better than others. They do not mean you have no faith; they just mean you are still alive!  Certainly we shouldn’t experience the wild ups and downs of a rollercoaster ride, but the gentle waves of a rising tide is perfectly natural, waves that lap the shore steadily, reaching further and further inland so that today’s lows are higher than yesterday’s highs. 

            So when you find yourself in the valley, don’t give in. Hang on and pull yourself back up. That’s what matters.  Besides, you are not the only one pulling.  If you were, you would never make it back up.

As for me, I said in my haste,
    I am cut off from before your eyes.
Nevertheless, you heard the voice of my supplications
    When I cried unto you.
Oh love Jehovah, all you saints;
    Jehovah preserves the faithful
But plentifully pays back the proud.
    Be strong and let your heart take courage.
All you who hope in Jehovah.
     Psalm 31:22-24

Dene Ward

I used to jog.  As my vision has decreased, my exercise regimen has changed as well.  The jog became a walk, then a walk with trekking poles as support, and now an indoor elliptical machine.  But I miss that outdoor time---six laps of a ½ mile plus each.  No, I did not get bored walking around in circles every day.  I have learned more about wildflowers, trees, and birds than ever before, and my dog and I have a game we play that I am positive she has made up rules for.  The walk is also an excellent time for prayer and meditation. 

About the only thing I did not like about the path was the occasional spider web, especially when I was surprised by a face full of one.  Like all predatory traps, they are practically invisible.  If I were a fly instead of a human, I would have been snared and eaten a long time ago.

One morning as I came east across the north end of the property, I passed through a shaft of sunlight shining on a web ahead of me, turning it into spun gold.  Just in time I was able to stop, grab a twig from the ground, and wipe the web out of my path.

Satan is never called a spider, but his traps are exactly like those spider webs.  They are invisible.  Unless you shine the light of God’s word on them, you will walk right into them.  They may even look attractive, like the beautifully intricate web I saw that day.  We must never forget that they are as deadly to us as a spider web is to a fly.

The opening of your word gives light;
            It gives understanding to the simple.
I opened wide my mouth and panted, 
            For I longed for your commandments. 
Turn unto me and have mercy on me, 
            As you do to those who love your name. 
Establish my footsteps in your word, 
            And let not any iniquity have dominion over me.
Psalm 119:130-133

Dene Ward

I remembered recently a walk Chloe and I took one morning when she was still a puppy.  It was a particularly nice day.  The steam bath of a Florida summer had given way to the milder warmth of early fall.  Migrating birds had stopped for the breakfast buffet in the nearby woods.  My hawk called good morning from high overhead.  A breeze fluffed up the grass and sent cotton ball clouds scudding across the sky.  Our world was filled with beauty and peace.

All of a sudden, down at my feet, Chloe belched.  This was not the dainty puff of air I sometimes hear from our older heeler, who then looks at me with embarrassed, downcast eyes.  This was a full-blown, open-mouthed belch that, proportionate to her size, would have rivaled any beer-bellied redneck.  I laughed out loud from the sheer shock of it.  I had never heard a puppy belch.  I didn’t even know it was possible.  Puppies are cute; puppies are playful; puppies are sweet and innocent.  Hearing Chloe belch certainly ruined that image.

Unfortunately, image is one thing and reality is something else entirely. Sometimes we forget that and set ourselves up for a lot of disappointment that could be avoided.  And sometimes that disappointment costs us our faith.

Consider this one thing, among many others:  how much more shocked are we when a preacher or elder falls?  “What hypocrites!” we instantly accuse.  Yet, isn’t it a poor preacher who cannot preach better than he can practice?  Why should his inability to be perfect (which we have no problem telling him about otherwise) keep us from trying at all?  The reality is we all fail once in a while, even though our image of them says they shouldn’t.

Whenever someone says to me, “I’ll never go to that church because some of the people there are hypocrites,” I usually answer, “Even the apostles had a Judas among them, but they did not let that make them forsake their Lord.” 

To those who leave the church “because of all the hypocrites,” Keith usually says, “And you are going to leave the Lord’s church in their hands?”  You see, what it all boils down to is yet more excuses for our own behavior.

No matter how well put together people seem on the outside, everyone has problems.  Sometimes the worst problem anyone can have is trying to live up to another person’s image of him.  If anyone knows he is not perfect, it is usually the one whom everyone else thinks is.  Not preachers, not elders, not elders’ wives, not great Bible scholars—no one is without fault.

That person you think is a perfect wife?  Once in a while she nags.  That person you think is a great husband?  Once in a while, he leaves his dirty clothes in the floor.  That couple you think have a perfect family?  Once in a while their children roll their eyes at their parents and actually rebel a little.  That one you think is always so kind and sweet?  Once in a while she loses her temper. 

Never blame your own faithlessness on the imperfections of others.  No one is perfect.  Don’t let your image of how things ought to be, rob you of your faith when reality checks in.

Even puppies belch.

If you, O Jehovah, should mark iniquities, who could stand?  But there is forgiveness with you that you may be feared.  I wait for Jehovah, my soul does wait, and in his word do I hope.  O Israel, hope in Jehovah, for with Jehovah there is lovingkindness, and with him is plenteous forgiveness.   Psalm 130:3,4,7.

Dene Ward

Some things are just not supposed to happen.  Sooner or later you will have a flat tire.  Sooner or later your AC will quit on you.  Sooner or later the washer will stop washing and the dryer will stop drying.  None of these things are pleasant, but they all happen to everyone.  When it happens, you groan and then get on with the business of life.  But some things are just not supposed to happen.

I was putting some things in the refrigerator the other day.  Usually the door swings shut by itself, but this time, as I twisted to get the next item, it swung all the way open.  Then it quietly fell off its hinges and tumbled shelf side down, dumping pickles, olives, ketchup, three kinds of mustard, Worcestershire and soy sauces, homemade jelly, butter, cream cheese, and my super special ordered-from-California eye medicine onto the floor, leaving the rest of the refrigerator wide open and humming.  For a moment I just stood there, stunned.  We have been through several refrigerators—a couple of cheap ones that came with the apartment or trailer we were renting at the time, and a couple of secondhand ones.  But this one was a recommended model we bought new.  Never have we had a refrigerator door fall off, not even the inexpensive or used ones.  Refrigerator doors do not fall off. 

Don’t you know that is how God feels at times?  We can find several passages where he laments our actions, saying, “This is not supposed to happen,” at least in substance, if not verbatim.  James 3:10 is a prime example:  Out of the same mouth comes forth blessing and cursing.  My brothers, these things ought not so to be.  James tells us we should not bless God and then curse man because when we curse a man made in the image of God, we might as well be cursing God.  Yikes!  That puts another spin on it, doesn’t it?  Understand, we are not talking about using four letter words here, but about maliciously wishing evil upon a person.  We are not supposed to do it--not even to other drivers!  And James acts like we ought to know this without being told:  we should not be cursing men! 

Unfortunately, we do not know, or willfully ignore, many such things.  We should know God is our Creator and worship him, but for some reason that is hotly debated even among intelligent people.  We should know God’s law; he has made it available and easy enough to understand.  But even in the church we have “seasoned” Christians who cannot find their way from Acts to Habakkuk without getting lost somewhere in Ephesians, and who think John wrote several “Revelations.”

I wonder if God does what I did the other morning, stand there in shock, staring at a door-less refrigerator, with my mouth hanging open, thinking, “What?  That just doesn’t happen.”  Unfortunately, it does.  You wonder if God is really all that surprised any more.  Tell you what, let’s work on a real surprise for him—let’s make sure we don’t do any of those things from now on.

The ox knows his owner, and the ass his master’s crib; but Israel does not know, my people do not consider, Isa 1:3.

Yes, the stork in the heavens knows her appointed times; and the turtledove and the swallow and the crane observe the time of their coming; but my people know not the law of Jehovah, Jer 8:7.

Dene Ward

I don’t see like you do.  I don’t even see like those of you who have less than perfect vision.  Normal vision has never been a part of my life.  I suppose that’s natural when you have a congenital eye disorder. 

When I was a child, no one ever told my parents exactly what was wrong with me, just, “She has really bad vision.”  As a teenager I began to figure out that it was worse than I thought when my doctor allowed all the student doctors to examine me and give their opinions, then sat back and told them why they were wrong.  Then after I married and we moved out of state, I actually had a doctor tell me he wished I had never walked into his office.  I never did again.

So how do I see?  That groundbreaking surgery on June 13, 2005, which has saved my vision for six extra years now, has left some interesting effects. Depending upon the day, the light, the internal pressure at any particular moment, I have double vision, tunnel vision, blurry vision, foggy vision, white reflections that block most of the view, ghost images, black specks, pale yellow splotches, starbursts, gold concentric circles, a fish-eye lens effect, spinning black and silver pinwheels on the periphery that move toward the front—and shaky equilibrium!    .

But I think that makes me understand Jesus’ statement in Matt 6:22 better than most:  The lamp of the body is the eye; if therefore, your eye is single, your whole body shall be full of light.

Jesus is talking about focus.  What do I focus on, this physical life or the spiritual?  The immediate context is the contrast between spiritual treasures and earthly treasure (v 19,20), God and mammon (v 24), the concern for physical needs versus righteousness and the kingdom (v 31-33). 

I often become distracted by things that get in the way of my vision.  I am down to one eye I am still legal to drive with now, and concentration on the road is important.  I have to consciously make an effort to ignore the specks, the splotches, the circles, the starbursts, the reflections, and on days when the blur is too much, I simply cannot drive if I want to avoid a mishap. 

In the same way it is easy for our spiritual “eye” to become distracted by all the things in front of us, by a concern for wealth, acceptance, and security, but also by necessities like food, clothing, and shelter--things which certainly are not wrong in themselves.  But when that is the thing we focus on, our eye is no longer single but, as Jesus plainly says in verse 23, “evil.”  Sooner or later we will have a spiritual “wreck.”

That is probably where Satan gets the majority of us—we have to provide for our families.  Worrying about that can actually make us do more than we need to, perhaps even push us over into a covetous attitude of always wanting more, not relying on God, and putting Him and his kingdom so far down on the list that we never even get to it any more.  And that means that our “eye” is no longer light but darkness, making us see things in ways that deceive us—we can serve God while we serve this world and its treasures, can’t we?   

Jesus appeals to our common sense.  Two different things cannot be the “most” important.  We have to make a choice—which one comes first?  Which one do we focus on?  Whom do we serve, God or mammon?  

Take it from someone who knows—double vision doesn’t work.

Lay not up for yourselves treasure upon the earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break through and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consume, and where thieves do not break through and steal, for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.  The lamp of the body is the eye; if your eye is single, your whole body shall be full of light.  But if your eye is evil, your whole body shall be full of darkness.  If therefore, the light that is in you becomes darkness, how great is the darkness!  No man can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will hold to one and despise the other.  You cannot serve God and mammon.  Matt 6:19-24

Dene Ward

I knew a woman once, a faithful Christian, who believed that crying over the death of a loved one was sinful.  She bravely, some would say, faced the loss of a child to a dread disease with a smile.  No one ever saw a tear leave her eyes.  I know a lot of people who agree with her, a lot of people who would applaud her as “strong and full of faith.”  I don’t.  In fact, that erroneous belief of hers affected both her physical and mental health for the rest of her life.  It also made her unsympathetic to others she should have been best able to comfort. 

God created us and He made within us the impulse to cry, just as He made other appetites and needs.  He never expected us not to cry, not to mourn, and not to grieve.  Do you want some examples?  Abraham cried when Sarah died, Gen 23:2.  Jonathan and David cried when they realized they would not be together again in this lifetime, 1 Sam 20:41, and David cried again when he heard that Jonathan, and even Saul, were dead, 2 Sam 3:32.  Hezekiah “wept bitterly” when he heard that he had a terminal illness, 2 Kgs 20:3.  Paul wept real tears when he suffered for the Lord, Acts 20:19, and he wept for those who had fallen from the way, Phil 3:19.  Where do we get this notion that righteous, faithful people never cry?

1 Thes 4:13 does not say we sorrow not over the death of loved ones.  It says we sorrow not as others do who have no hope.  “As” means in the same manner.  Yes we sorrow, but not in the same way.  We know something more awaits us.  Our sorrow is tempered with the knowledge that we will one day be together again, but that does not mean the sorrow ceases to exist—it simply changes. 

I cried often after my Daddy died, usually when I saw something he had made for me, or given me, or repaired that I thought was a goner.  He was handy that way, and I miss the care he showed for me in those small gestures.  Even now, writing these things makes my eyes burn and water just a bit, over a year after his passing.  But I do not, and I have never, let grief consume me and keep me from my service to God and to others.  I have not let it destroy my faith—my hope—that I will see him again and be with him forever.

Anyone who thinks that crying is faithless sits with Job’s cold, merciless friends.  Job did cry.  Job did ask God why.  Job did complain with all his might about the things he was experiencing, yet “in all this Job sinned not with his lips” Job 2:10.  What did he get from his friends?  Nothing but accusation and rebuke.  “Have pity upon me, oh you my friends,” he finally wails in 19:21.  Paul says we are to “weep with those who weep,” Rom 12:15.  If weeping were sinful, shouldn’t he have told us to, as Job’s friends did, rebuke them instead?  No, God plainly says at the end of the book that Job’s friends were the ones who were wrong.

And, of course, Jesus cried.  I have heard Bible classes tie themselves into knots trying to make it okay for Jesus to cry at the tomb of Lazarus.  How about this?  He was sad!  To try to take that sadness away from Him strips Him of the first sacrifice He made for us when He carefully and deliberately put on humanity.  Hebrews says He was “tempted in all points like us yet without sin.”  That means He experienced sad, and people who are sad cry.

Do you think He can’t understand our specific problems because He never lost a child? 

And when he drew near he saw the city and wept over it…O Jerusalem, Jerusalem…how often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings and you would not, Luke 19:41; Matt 23:37.

When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. The more they were called, the more they went away; they kept sacrificing to the Baals and burning offerings to idols. Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk; I took them up by their arms, but they did not know that I healed them. I led them with cords of kindness, with the bands of love, and I became to them as one who eases the yoke on their jaws, and I bent down to them and fed them... How can I give you up, O Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel? How can I make you like Admah? How can I treat you like Zeboiim? My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender, Hos 11:1-4,11.

Anyone who cannot hear the tears in those words is probably not a parent yet.  God knows what it is like to lose a child in the worst way possible--spiritually.  Don’t tell the Lord it’s a sin to cry.

I have seen too many people nearly ruin themselves trying to do the impossible.  I have seen others drive the sorrowful away with a cold lack of compassion.  Grieving is normal.  Grieving is even good for you, and God knows that better than anyone since He made our minds and bodies to do just that.  How much of a promise would it be to “wipe away all tears from their eyes” if He expected us to do it now?  In fact, David asks God in a poignant psalm to collect his tears in His bottle—don’t forget that I am sad, Lord.  Don’t let my tears simply fall to the ground and dry up, keep count of them—“keep them in your book” Psa 56:8.  Do you think He would have preserved that psalm for us if crying were a sin?

If you have lost someone near and dear, if you have received a bad diagnosis, if you have been afflicted in any way, go ahead and cry.  This isn’t Heaven after all.  But don’t lose your faith.  Sorrow as one who has hope, as the father of the faithful did, as the “man after God’s own heart did,” as one of the most righteous kings Judah ever had did, as perhaps the greatest apostle did, even as the Lord did.  Let it out so you can heal, and then go on serving your Lord.  His hand will be on you, and one day—not now, but one day--He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. Revelation 21:4

Dene Ward

We have shared our lives with a lot of animals over the years.  Two who grew up with our boys were Bart and Abby.  Bart was a big, friendly, yellow lab, who trotted up to anyone who would pet him, and wagged his tail so hard his whole rear end swayed.  Even in his senior years, he got as excited as a puppy every time any of us called him.  If you stopped petting him, he would carefully place his head under your dangling hand to remind you he was still there.

I remember one morning when Abby, the black and white “cow” cat, walked up to him.  They had already established a friendly, if cautious, relationship, even rubbing noses upon occasion, but Bart knew to stand still with his muscles bunched until he discovered what mood Abby was in.  Sure enough, Abby nuzzled sweetly, stroking Bart’s huge leg with a tiny white paw.   As soon as Bart relaxed, Abby walked around behind him, lifted a paw, and whapped his rear end hard enough to send him running.

Abby had been fooling us since we first got him at the age of six weeks.  We named him Abigail, and by the time we discovered there was more hiding beneath his fur than we had first thought, he knew his name, and we were stuck trying to find a male version of Abby.  Abigail became Abner, at least on the vet’s records.  He learned early how to get what he wanted.  If we were walking outside and he decided he needed to be held, he would throw himself bodily in front of us on the ground.  If we stepped around him, he would follow along and do it again and again until he finally wore us down and we picked him up. 

Those two pets always reminded me of Jesus’ admonition to be “wise as serpents and harmless as doves.”  The Lord expects us to have no malice toward anyone, always willing to help those who need it, whether they deserve it or not.  On the other hand he also expects us to be on guard.  It is hard to strike an even balance.  Some lean toward naiveté and others toward cynicism, each one rationalizing himself and criticizing the other, when possibly what they both need is moderation—it isn’t that you choose only one side of this coin; it’s that you flip it as the occasion requires..  Jesus never let himself be caught in the traps of the scribes and Pharisees, but he was willingly led to the cross “as a lamb to the slaughter.” 

Sometimes I hear prudence castigated as a lack of faith.  Jacob prayed that God deliver him from the hand of Esau, then the next morning, sent gifts to appease his brother, Gen 32:11ff.  Many impugn his faith because of that.  But tell me, as my son Nathan likes to point out, if you saw a known murderer in your front yard, wouldn’t you go inside and lock the door before you prayed?  In fact, might you not call 911 as well?  How easily we judge when it is someone else’s neck on the chopping block.  Was Paul faithless when he escaped his enemies in Damascus over the wall in a basket?  Why didn’t he stay if he had faith that God would care for him?  In fact, he went on to Jerusalem after Agabus told him he would be imprisoned there.  What was the difference?  It may be difficult to know, but as long as we take the time to consider all of our decisions, putting our service to God at the top of the list instead of such things as financial success, as long as we live our lives by a faith that trusts no matter what, He will be pleased.

Jehovah is on my side; I will not fear: What can man do unto me? It is better to take refuge in Jehovah than to put confidence in man, Psalm 118:6,8.

Dene Ward

Today’s post is by guest author Keith Ward.

I grew up in the country, hiking alone in the woods before my age reached double digits.  So when we honeymooned in the Pocono Mountains it was natural for me to suggest a hike in the woods behind the resort.  There were no established trails but that did not deter this intrepid wilderness scout.

We were soon lost.  It had seemed so simple that I had observed none of the precautions that I had learned in the Marines.  I climbed a tree to look for landmarks.  My bride hid her terror and made a fist to keep her too-loose new rings from slipping off her fingers.  As we hiked along, she was not as close behind as I thought and a branch I’d held a moment for her, slapped her in the face when I let go.  It also knocked her off balance and she plopped down unceremoniously in a large mud puddle.  Finally, through no skills of my own, we stumbled out to a road and walked back to the resort.  Embarrassing—and very humbling—to be lost less than a mile from safety.

Spiritually, I have never felt that hopelessness of being lost and without direction.  My parents raised me with God and the Bible as my compass.  I’ve wandered away a few times and misunderstood the directions on occasion, but I always knew where the road home was.

But I think I know how it feels to be lost.  A person grows up today without much teaching concerning the direction of life.  If evolution is true, God isn’t.  If God is not, there is no reward for good behavior; no punishment for bad.  One can go through life getting the degree, the job, the promotion and suddenly realize he has no value, no worth in a world of billions.

More than embarrassing, this “lost” is terrifying, destroying all self-worth and leaving one without hope, destined to be forgotten with Ozymandius in a grave where no marker will withstand the passing centuries.

God is.  God loves you.  God created you and wrote an owner’s manual to lead you in the joyful life and onward to eternal life.  The pleasures of sin are as enticing as a walk in the woods.  They always hurt you and hurt others, and leave you empty and alone in the dark woods.  You will never stumble out of the woods on your own.

God sent a light.  Jesus is the way.  Righteousness is the good life.

Thomas said to him, "Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?" Jesus said to him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. John 14:5-6

   Keith Ward