Now pay attention!  “Irregardless” is not a word; the word is “regardless.”  “Preventative” and “attentative” are not words; the words are “preventive” and “attentive” without the extra “ta” syllable.  You go to an “orientation” session to become “oriented,” not “orientated.” 

            You are not “laying” in bed.  If you were, there would be a pile of eggs there.  Today you “lie” there, yesterday you “lay” there, and in the past you “have lain” there.  However, if you are talking about something you put in the bed, then today you “lay” it there, yesterday you “laid” it there, and in the past you also “have laid” it there. 

            The words are not pronounced “comPARable” and “irrePARable,” they are pronounced “COMparable” and “irREParable.”  And at least until recently when the lexicographers finally gave up and put it in as an allowed pronunciation, the word was correctly pronounced “off-en” without the T, rather than “off-ten” with the T.  At least know that the pronunciation of the word “often” has been corrupted, please. 

            “Hopefully the weather will clear up” is an impossibility.  The weather cannot do anything hopefully, and that is the word being modified in that sentence.  What you mean to say is, “I hope the weather will clear up.”  “Hopefully” used at the beginning of a sentence is almost always wrong.

            You cannot “bring” something to a place you are not at; you TAKE it there.  When you feel ill, you feel “nauseated.”  When you are “nauseous,” you are causing nausea in others, although my dictionary tells me that it has been used wrong for so long that they have created a second definition for it.

            You know what is so aggravating about all of this?  I am not a grammarian.  I did not have a grammar class after ninth grade.  The English classes after that were all literature and writing.  Any real grammar scholar could find fault with me.  I was, in fact, re-reading an old devotional the other day and found a split infinitive in it.  I am just an ordinarily educated person when it comes to grammar.  So if I know all these things, what in the world happened?  I see and hear them in what purports to be professional speech and writing all the time.  It’s one thing for us common folks to be less than careful about how we speak, but shouldn’t the pros have standards?

            Before you start on me for being too picky and fussy, let me remind you that I am in good company.  Paul and Jesus both made arguments based on word choice and grammar.

            In Galatians 3:16 Paul uses the number of the noun “seed” to prove that Jesus was the fulfillment to the promise to Abraham.  Now to Abraham were the promises spoken, and to his seed.  He said not, and to seeds, as of many, but as of one, and to thy seed, which is Christ.  In the first major controversy in the new kingdom, when Jewish Christians were attempting to force Judaism on Gentile Christians as necessary to salvation, that was important.  Pretty picky of Paul, wasn’t it?

            Jesus proved to the Sadducees the resurrection of the dead when he quoted God as He spoke to Moses on Mt Sinai from the burning bush, I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  At that point, those men had been long dead, yet God spoke of them in the present tense.  Jesus said, But as regarding the resurrection of the dead, haven’t you read that which was spoken to you by God, I am the God of Abraham and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob?  God is not the God of the dead, but of the living, Matt 22:31,32, an argument based solely on the tense of a verb.  Good thing it had nothing to do with “laying!”

            We have a tendency to think of those people in “Bible times” as primitive, ignorant folks.  Jesus made a claim of Divinity to them using two words, which of necessity were in the present tense.  Before Abraham was, I AM, John 8:58.  Did they catch something so fussy and nitpicky?  I think so.  They took up stones therefore to cast at him.  I wonder if today’s generation would have just shrugged their shoulders and walked on.

            It is permissible to be picky with the Scriptures.  We are in good company when we are.  Be careful however, that your pickiness is not about pettiness.  “Picky” and “petty” are not the same.  Jesus and the apostles were one, but not the other.  Study the difference, study your scriptures.  God did choose words to communicate with us, not subjective feelings.  Aren’t we glad?  There can be no mistake if you have it down in black and white.

Truly I say to you, till heaven and earth pass away, one jot or one tittle shall in no way pass from the law till all things are accomplished.  Whoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments and shall teach men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven.  But whoever shall do and teach them, he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven, Matt 5:18,19.

Dene Ward

Today’s post is by guest writer Melissa Baker.  See more at maidservantsofChrist.com.

Have you ever justified your sin by saying, "At least I don't do _____?"  Have you ever felt a secret pride in your sin because you didn't recognize it for what it truly was, a thorn trying to grow on a grape vine (Matthew 7:16)?  I'd like to say I've never done that.  It seems like such an obvious thing to avoid.  But when I was studying the Fruit of the Spirit, I had to face my own sin, and worse, I had to face the way I have treated sin in my life.


It starts with the difference between me and my husband.  You see, I have a temper, a very quick temper.  I'm like a match; I get angry quickly, but it burns out quickly too.  My husband is more like an oven.  It takes a lot to make him angry, but when he does he tends to hold on to it for awhile, silently "stewing."  I don't like "stewing."  So I justified my anger.  "Maybe I do have quick temper," I said, "but at least I don't stew."  I felt a twisted sense of pride in my short temper.

Then I started to study about patience.  I wonder if my "great idea" to cover the fruit of the Spirit in this blog may have been a bit providential.  When I looked at the word patience, the first definition in my concordance that jumped out at me was "slow to anger."  When I looked at the origin of the Greek word, I understood why.  The KJV is probably closer to the Greek when it lists "longsuffering" instead of patience.  The word in the original language is actually a compound word.  The two words?  Long and Temper.  Ouch.  

Long of temper. Slow to anger.  These phrases reminded me of multiple Old Testament descriptions of God himself.  Once again, the Fruit of the Spirit takes us back to the character of God.  I found nine references in the Old Testament where our Father is described as being slow to anger.  Why is it important to me that God is slow to anger?  The answer to that is obvious, and beautifully stated by the Psalmist:

The LORD is compassionate and gracious, Slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness.  He will not always strive with us, Nor will He keep His anger forever.  He has not dealt with us according to our sins, Nor rewarded us according to our iniquities.  For as high as the heavens are above the earth, So great is His lovingkindness toward those who fear Him.  As far as the east is from the west, So far has He removed our transgressions from us.  Just as a father has compassion on his children, So the LORD has compassion on those who fear Him (Psalm 103:8-13).

If God were not patient with us, then he would punish us according to our sins.  God has every right to be angry with my sin, especially with my justification of it.  Even before Jesus shed his blood to cover our sins, God was known as a merciful God.  He continued to lead his children even after they turned their back on him in the incident with the golden calf (Nehemiah 9:15-20).  

What about me?  If God were not patient, we would all be punished in the way we deserve.  As a Christian, I am striving to be more godly.  What happens when I am not longsuffering?  Unfortunately, my family can tell you exactly what happens.  I lash out with my tongue.  I show how angry I am by my petty actions.  An angry shout here, a slammed door there, it all adds up.  I don't abuse my children physically, but I have bruised their hearts.  Sure, I get over it quickly, but the wounds from my hurtful words to my husband are still there. I am not being godly.  God is patient and holds back the punishment that I rightly deserve.  I am impatient and punish my family with my anger.  Sadder still, I usually snap at stupid things.  They don't deserve the treatment I give them.

What I saw as "stewing" in my husband was really him being righteous.  Maybe he is angry, but he is "suffering long," withholding punishment in the form of angry words.  He is not bottling up his anger; he is modeling for me what I need to do.  Be quiet.  Calm down. Show grace.  Be patient.  I've learned that when I feel the smug feeling of superiority over someone, I probably need to look a little closer at my heart.  Self-righteousness in itself is wrong.  Don't believe me?  Read what Jesus had to say to the Pharisees.  In my case, though, the sin ran much deeper.  My self righteousness was a cover for a deeper sin that I refused to see.  Next time that ugly smugness rears its head, I'll be looking for a hidden sin.

Melissa Baker

            Doesn’t it seem to you that we are hearing less of those alien abduction stories these days?  I enjoy science fiction, especially Orson Scott Card, The X-Files, and Star Trek in all its various forms, but the fact that these kidnapping tales no longer seem to be en vogue, goes a long way to proving that they are more fiction than science.  I always wondered about those alien abductors anyway.  They seem to practice some sort of “catch and release” program.  Is it because they are concerned with the ecology of Homo sapiens on the planet Terra, or are they just having trouble finding a specimen worth keeping?  Maybe we no longer hear these stories because they have just given up on us.

            What about you?  What about me?  Would we be a good catch for some E.T.’s fishing expedition?  What sort of bait would it take?  Seems to me that the cheaper and more primitive the bait, the dumber the fish.  This space traveler would want a fish so smart he would really have to work at it to catch him, wouldn’t he?  He would want a healthy specimen with no diseases or rare abnormalities.  Maybe that’s why they stay away from me. 

            We could go all sorts of directions with this analogy.  For example, what sort of bait does it take for Satan to snare you—a cheap, obviously rubber worm, or an expensive, artfully made lure for a really smart fish? 

            But there is another application I find a lot scarier and more motivating.  Does God have a “catch and release” program?  I think so, though not like that of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.  Size doesn’t matter to God, nor does health, wealth, status, or any other physical or economic characteristic.  But if we start flip-flopping in God’s hands, desperately trying to get back into the waters of sin, he will let us go.  Yes, we have the promise, no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand, John 10:29, but that does not preclude God opening his hand so we can walk right out of it if we so choose.  Too many scriptures talk about falling away for me to think I have no choice in the matter.

            So my prayer every day is that God will be patient with me as a child who sometimes rebels against his parents’ rules simply because he does not have the experience and wisdom to see the big picture; that he will chasten my flip-flopping until I finally submit to Him who knows what is best; and that He will never throw me back.  Even Jesus used as an analogy for conversion “fishing for men.”  I don’t want to be “the one that got away.”

Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world.  If any one loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.  For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the vainglory of life, is not of the Father but of the world.  And the world passes away and the lusts thereof, but he who does the will of God abides forever, 1 John 2:15-17.

Dene Ward

            If you read through the histories of the early church, especially during the persecutions, you will see that everyone found the behavior of Christians totally inexplicable.  Despite pain and death, they never acted the way people expected them to act.  They did not denounce their Savior, and the ones who survived did not try to avenge their mistreatment.

            God’s people did not suddenly become pliant and merciful in the first century.  It began long before.  David is a prime example in his careful treatment of Saul, a mad king who was out to destroy him.  Maybe that is where the little maiden learned her first lessons about mercy.

            We do not know exactly when, how, or where, but a band of Syrian soldiers raided an Israelite town and took many people captive, among them a little girl.  Eventually she wound up in the home of Naaman, the captain of the very army who kidnapped her and possibly even killed members of her family, serving his wife.  I don’t know how old she was, but she was probably far older in mind and actions than children her age nowadays because of what she had been through.  She was old enough to remember her homeland and to know about the power of God and his prophet Elisha.

            Soon she discovered that her new master had leprosy, a disease so dreaded in her own country that the people who had it were sent away and quarantined.  What would you have thought?  “Good!  Serves him right.  Get him, God.”  I can easily see those thoughts going through my mind, especially if the last view I had of my home was painted with the blood of my family.  What was the last thing you wanted to “get even” with someone about?  Can it even hold a candle to what this girl must have experienced?

            But no, she tells her mistress, Would that my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy, 2 Kings 5:3.

            Excuse me?  This man is an enemy of God’s people, at that time a physical kingdom with physical enemies.  God’s standing orders often included wiping out those enemies.  Yet she wants to save this man, who could easily kill more of God’s children?  She was obviously too young to know what she was doing.

            But Elisha wasn’t.  And God certainly knew whom he was healing as Naaman dipped himself into the Jordan River.  This was no mistake caused by a naïve child.  The mercy she showed was exactly what God wanted of her.

            And so the unexpected result, mercy from a captive toward her captor, made for yet another unexpected result.  Naaman, the heathen army captain, said, Behold now I know that there is no God in all the earth, but in Israel, v 15.

            Sometimes in our zeal to fight for God, we forget that He knows best.  When will we ever learn that with God, we should expect the unexpected?

You have heard that it was said, you shall love your neighbor, and hate your enemy: but I say unto you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you; that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven: for he makes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the just and the unjust.  For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the publicans the same?  And if you salute your brethren only, what do you more?  Do not even the Gentiles the same?  You therefore shall be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect, Matt 5:43-48.

Dene Ward

About 20 years ago, we spent a long weekend camping in one of our north Florida parks.  It was cold that November, the coldest weather we had ever camped in, and I was busily trying to remember to pack enough cold weather clothes to keep us warm, especially for a night outdoors. Unfortunately, I forgot the garment bag that held our Sunday clothes. 
            
Not attending services that Sunday morning in the nearby town was not an
option for us.  We raised our boys the way I was raised—on Sundays we went to the assembly of the saints, period.  No one ever even thought to say, “Will we attend today?”

So we walked into the services that morning in jeans and flannel shirts.  We did not even have on our “best” jeans, because we learned early that camping could be a dirty, staining experience.  It was not quite so bad for the guys—one or two other men did not have on ties--but there I was, the only woman in the place without a dress and heels. And without exception, the women looked at me, turned their heads, and walked away.  None of them ever did speak to me, even after Keith spoke knowledgeably in Bible class, and we obviously knew the hymns.  I tried not to be judgmental, but I kept wondering if they thought we were some poor, down and out family, who had stopped, “just to try to get some money.”  You know why? Because I had thought the same thing in the past about others who looked like us.  
 
I wanted to stand up and say, “My husband preached full time for ten years.  I teach Bible classes and have some Bible class literature in the bookstores. 
My children can probably answer more Bible questions than you can!”  I wanted to rub their noses in the fact of their discrimination.  But I didn’t.  Instead, I pondered my own guilt, and wondered if I would have done any
better.
            
So take a minute and think about your own behavior on Sunday mornings.  Whom do you rush to greet?  Whom do you leave standing, feeling awkward and unwelcome?  Which ones may need the Lord the most?  In fact, which ones might the Lord himself have welcomed the most fervently?  Would we have stood with the Pharisees, rebuking him for eating with sinners? And weren’t we, in our suits and ties, dresses and heels, once in the same condition?  And couldn’t we find ourselves there again, if we do not follow his
example?
 
My brethren, hold not the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory, with respect of persons.  For if there comes into your assembly a man with a gold ring, in fine clothing, and there comes in also a poor man in vile clothing, and you have regard to him who wears the fine clothing, and say, “Sit here in a good place,” and you say to the poor man, “Stand there,” or “Sit under my footstool,” do you not make distinctions among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?  Listen, my beloved brethren, did not God choose those who are poor as to the world to be rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom which he promised to them who loved him?  Howbeit, if you fulfill the royal law according to the scripture, “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself,” you do well, but if you have respect of persons, you commit sin, being convicted by the law as transgressors.  For judgment is without mercy to him who shows no mercy, James 2:1-5,8-9,13.

Dene Ward

I don’t know how many times in my life I have heard people say the Law
of Moses was a matter of form religion only, that the heart did not matter to
God one way or the other.  How anyone could think this of a religion whose mantra seemed to be Thou shalt love the Lord your God with all
your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might (Deut 6:5) is
beyond my comprehension. Yet all of us have blind spots where what we have heard all our lives keeps us from seeing things right under our noses.
            
Here is a list of passages to read at your convenience in the next week.  It will amaze you, stun you, and forever more settle the matter.  God expected his people to live the Law every day of their lives, not just on the Sabbath.  He has always wanted their hearts.  Isa 1:11-17; 29:13; 30:8-14; 58:13,14; 66:1,2; Jer 7:8-10; 8:8,9; 22:3,4; Eze 33:13, 30-33; 34:1-31; Hos 6:4-6; 10:12; 12:6; Amos 5:11-15; 8:4-10; Mic 6:6-8.  
   
Yes, form was important to God.  It showed exactly how much faith and devotion his people had to obey him in even the smallest details.  As God told Moses, See that you make things according to the pattern which was shown you in Mount [Sinai], Ex 25:40.  Jesus even said the Pharisees were right to be careful to follow the Law exactly:  Whatever [the Pharisees] bid you, do and observe…for these things (tithing even their herbs) you ought to have done, Matt 23:1,23.  But he went on to say that the heart was even more important:  You have left undone the weightier matters of the Law, justice, mercy, and faith.  God expected their obedient following of the pattern of worship to match an obedient life of righteousness, coming from a pure heart of faith, love, and mercy.  He flatly told them that none of their worship would be accepted otherwise.
             
Why do you think Jesus was so angry with the scribes and Pharisees?  They prided themselves on knowing and keeping the Law, but they seemed totally ignorant of those scriptures listed above.  He quoted several of those passages to them (Matt 9:13; 13:14,15; 15:8,9), ending with, Go learn what this means, the ultimate insult to a scribe, a “teacher” of the Law.
             
Those Jewish leaders were still under the Law at the time.  Do we, who have a better covenant, a better priest, and better forgiveness, think God will expect any less of us?  God demands more than simply following His law to the letter. 
He expects a life of service from us, Inasmuch as you have done this unto the least of these my brothers, you have done it also  unto me, Matt 25:40.  Let’s not sit on our pews congratulating ourselves because we are following all the rituals correctly, if we have left so much else undone throughout the week.  As Peter reminds us in 1 Pet 4:17, judgment will begin with us.  We had better make sure our hearts are ready for it.
 
I hate, I despise your feasts, and I will take no delight in your solemn assemblies.  Yes, though you offer me your burnt offerings and meal offerings, I will not accept them, neither will I regard the peace offerings of your fat beasts.  Take away from me the noise of your songs, for I will not hear the melodies of your viols.  But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness as a mighty stream, Amos 5:21-24.

Dene Ward


  

You can find a million diets out there, but there is one thing none of them can get around:  your calorie intake must be less than your calorie outflow if you want to lose weight.  That doesn’t mean it is easy or that other things do not play into it. Just ask a middle-aged woman about the difficulties of losing weight, and you will get an earful.  I can vouch for those “other things” myself, having gone through middle age and now arrived at “old age.” It’s true—several million women could not make this up and it not be valid.  Be that as it may, you still must count those calories and burn up more than you take in.

Keith and I do more calorie counting these days.  Our activity level has decreased due to illness and just being too old and tired to do as much.  That
means we have to be much more diligent than before when Keith was riding his bike 50-75 miles a week and I was jogging 25-30 miles a week. Something about being in your 60s slows you down a bit.

The other morning I was making a light version of baklava—half the calories and a third the fat of the ordinary Greek pastry.  I had phyllo dough leftover that I needed to use up and a brand new jar of raw honey. Such was my excuse that day—but at least I had found this lighter version.  After I poured the honey
syrup over the baked dough, Keith came along behind me with a spoon and started scraping the pan.  In between licks he said, “This doesn’t count, right?”  Oh, if only…  

I heard a chef say one time that he had to work-out about two hours a day
to burn off the estimated 6000 calories he took in just tasting the dishes he
made before sending them out to his customers.  I get it.  My local brethren have so many potlucks (at least two a month for some of us), plus company meals and family meals, wedding and baby showers, that I am sure most of my extra calories come from that tasting.  No way will I send something out there that I don’t know is good. And if I took diet food to a potluck I might just be excommunicated.

Yes, those calories count.  And so do those little bitty sins—you know, the little white lies to keep yourself out of trouble, the little bits of gossip that you just can’t seem to keep to yourself, the pens and paper clips you “borrow” from work, that side job you did for a little extra cash that doesn’t get reported the next April.  We seem to think that because we assemble on Sunday mornings and don’t do the big bad sins—the ones in the Ten Commandments—that nothing else counts. The fact that our language makes people think less of the body of a Sacrificed Savior never seems to cross our minds.  
 
The Treasury of Scriptural Knowledge states that the Jews believed that “he who observed any principal command was equal to him who kept the whole law.”  Their example was idolatry.  If you didn’t worship an idol, you were good to go!  The little stuff didn’t matter.  All you have to do is read about Jesus’ dealings with the Pharisees in the gospels and you can see the results of that doctrine.

First century Christians must have had the same problem.  “He who keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it,” James said in 2:10.  The context? People who said they had faith but didn’t take care of the sick and needy, or visit the fatherless and widows, or welcome the strangers to their assemblies.  The same God who said, “Do not kill,” also said, “Do not commit adultery,” he reminds them.  All sins count in God’s eyes.

This is not new with God.  Ezekiel said in chapter 33:12,13, “The righteousness of the righteous shall not deliver him in the day of his transgression…if he trust to his righteousness, and commit iniquity, none of his righteous deeds shall be remembered, but in his iniquity which he has committed, therein shall he die.”

Yep, all those calories count, no matter how small the spoon or how tiny the taste.  And so do all those sins.  The only cure for the problem is to quit sampling the goods.

Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments, and shall teach men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven: but whosoever shall do and teach them, he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 5:19

Dene Ward

My floor is finished. I am thrilled to have my house back to myself after three weeks of sharing it with the installer.  He was a nice guy.  My dogs loved him.  He brought them stale doughnuts every morning.
             
The morning after he finished I stepped outside to an empty carport and
the sound of silence where there should have been the click of claws and pad of paws on concrete, rushing to greet me.  I started up the drive and there they were—sitting next to the gate, gazing down the road, obviously pining for the man and his doughnuts.  
          
I called them back.  Chloe came more or less eagerly, but Magdi stopped every ten feet or so and looked over her shoulder toward the gate.  I had to call and clap my hands every so often to keep her coming my way.  
 
This has happened for several mornings now.  I may pet her, and do it often, but I don’t give her doughnuts.  She has sold her soul to a new master just for a doughnut!

What do we sell ours for?  We may even think we have not.  Magdi still lives on our property.  She still comes when we call.  She still allows us to medicate and feed her the healthy stuff, but all the time she is looking over her shoulder toward the gate, yearning for a doughnut.

Are we still showing up at the right places, saying the right things, even acting the right way most of the time, but secretly looking over our shoulders, longing for something else?  We needn’t even bother trying.  No man having put his hand to the plow and looking back is fit for the kingdom of God; remember Lot’s wife, Luke 9:62; 17:32.

I cannot explain to the dogs that if they lived on a steady diet of doughnuts they would actually die of malnutrition, not to mention the woes that come with obesity.  They just know that a nice man gave them something that tasted
good.

We should be smarter than a couple of dogs.  We should have the sense to know that the things we sell our souls for are not worth the end result—not wealth, not power, not social acceptance, not a physical high that only lasts a moment, not the satisfaction that comes with vengeance or simply putting someone in his place.  
 
Whatever it is we are selling ourselves for, however smart it may appear
to the world, however good it may feel, it might as well be doughnuts.  

Then Jesus said to his disciples, If any will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.  For whoever will save his life shall lose it, and whoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.  For what is a man profited if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?  Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?
Matt 16:24-26.

Dene Ward

I was standing before my 4th grade class while the teacher took out the canned goods my parents had sent for the food drive.  We had always participated before, but never before had I brought such treasures.  All my fellow students oohed and aahed as the teacher pulled out beef stew, chicken noodle soup, Beanee Weanees, Chef-Boy-Ar-Dee, along with some fruit and applesauce.  I clearly had the best offering of the bunch, at least in the minds of children.  Even the teacher was impressed.  The only thing that confused me was her writing my name on each can with a big black marker, as she did for each student.  We took them to the shelves lining the back wall of the pink portable school room “until they’re needed.”

That same day our history lesson suddenly jumped forward a few hundred years to World War II.  The teacher said she had a surprise for us. “In the war, soldiers had to wear identification called ‘dog tags.’  While we study this section, you will get to wear your very own dog tags just like they did.”  And there they were, my own shiny silver dog tags hanging from a chain, with my name, my daddy’s name, our address and phone number (Cypress 3-3363, if I remember correctly), my birth date, and something odd up in the right hand corner that no one ever explained, O+.

I suppose the strangest part of this whole World War II study was the “You are there” experience.  The teacher said she wanted us to know what life must have been like for those poor people who lived in the war zone, so from then on, whenever she shouted, “Plane!” we would all dive under our desks with our hands clasped behind our necks until she gave the “all clear.”  Far from being frightened by all of this, we were thrilled.  As it happened, a couple of television series about the war were running that year, and it was like playing a part in it.  None of us had ever been touched by the horrors of a real war, so it was just a big game to us.

After a few days, our war study ended.  We were instructed to leave our dog tags at home, and, for some reason, the poor people no longer needed the food, so we all took our cans back home.  Why none of us questioned any of this is beyond me.  It was a simpler time, I suppose, when children just did as they were told without asking why.

I gradually forgot about that odd experience, but when I was a teenager studying American History I suddenly figured it out.  On October 14, 1962 American satellites had just discovered Soviet missiles carrying nuclear warheads on the island of Cuba, and the Cold War was on the brink of becoming the hottest war ever fought. 

We lived on the west side of Orlando, about halfway between Cape Canaveral and Strategic Air Command at MacDill AFB in Tampa, two prime targets.  Should we be attacked while in school, the dog tags identified us until a family member could be located, the blood type expedited care if we were injured, the food fed us a few days if it took that long to find us a place to go, and all that “war” practice was to keep injuries at a minimum—from the normal things anyway.  There was not much they could do about radioactive fallout.

I cannot imagine how it must have felt to send your child out alone in times like that, but, as I recall, no one stayed home.  We sat every day with our dog tags jingling as we jumped up and down to the shout of “Plane!”  My parents went to work every morning and so did the neighbors.  Life went on, but we took some pretty elaborate precautions—it would have been foolish to do otherwise.

Things are not really that different now.  We’re not afraid of bombs falling at any moment, but there are much worse things out there to harm our children.  Are you taking any precautions?  Do they know who they are and where they belong?  Do they know what to do in case their faith is attacked?

Send them out well-armed.  The doctrines of Satan, most notably humanism, lie between the lines of practically every school textbook. Look through them the first day they cross your threshold. “Values clarification” is just a fancy way of saying “situation ethics.”  You need to know the teacher who is teaching it, and her own moral code.  Talk to your children every night about things they have heard from teachers or friends.  Start doing this their first day of school.  If you wait till they are teenagers, it is too late.

The Cuban Missile Crisis lasted just a few days, but look how carefully the parents prepared “just in case.”  You have a crisis today that lasts far longer.  You need to prepare even more than those parents did.  The “just in case” is a whole lot more terrifying.

Give ear, O my people, to my law; incline your ears to the words of my mouth.  I will open my mouth in a parable; I will utter dark sayings of old, which we have heard and known, and our fathers have told us.  We will not hide them from their children, telling to the generations to come the praises of Jehovah, and his strength, and his wondrous works that he has done…that the generation to come might know them, even the children that should be born, who should arise and tell them to their children; that they might set their hope in God, and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments, Psa 78:1-4, 6,7.

Dene Ward

Pearl Reid Skirvin was born on October 12, 1889.  The daughter of an Oklahoma City real estate tycoon, she never knew anything but high society.  She married George Mesta, a Pittsburgh machine tool magnate, and was widowed after only 8 years.  She never remarried, never had children, and became heir to both her father’s and husband’s fortunes.  Somewhere along the way she changed the spelling of her first name and became Perle Mesta, an influential hostess and political fundraiser in Washington DC.  And somewhere else along the way, she was labeled “the hostess with the mostes’.”  As a young child I had heard of her myself, but her glamorous parties were things far beyond my family’s imagination, much less actual attendance.

I remember my first attempts to be a hostess.  I had watched my mother feed guests for 20 years.  She seemed to do it effortlessly, not that she didn’t work at it, but it never seemed to stress her out.  Me?  I was always worried that my recipes wouldn’t turn out, that I had chosen something no one liked, and that the house wasn’t clean enough. 

For several years I kept a file with an index card for each family we had invited for a meal.  I listed the dates they came, what I had served, and at the top a list of things I knew were disliked.  Roger Pink hated liver, I remember—not that I would ever serve specially invited guests liver, but you can see how concerned I was with being a good hostess.  These days you get pot luck, and I don’t worry so much any more.

Being a good host or hostess had almost sacred connotations in the scriptures.  Inns were few and far between.  Everyone depended upon the people they encountered in their travels to put them up, and those people knew they would someday have similar need, so they readily offered the hospitality.  You cannot read Genesis without seeing the importance of hospitality—a host laid down his life for his guests.

So the metaphor in Proverbs 9 was an apt one for the times.  Two hostesses seeking guests, one named Wisdom and the other Folly.  A quick reading will only obscure some of the finer points.  This is too short a venue to touch them all, so sit down some time with a pen and paper and make two columns.  Go through the verses yourself and find the contrasts between the hostesses, their offers, and the guests who take advantage of the proffered hospitality.  Then figure out which side you are on. 

But three quick points: Wisdom offers a great feast—“she has slaughtered her beasts; she has mixed her wine,” v 2.  Folly offers only bread and water, v 17, but notice how enticing she makes it sound:  Stolen water is sweet and bread eaten in secret is pleasant.  Not only is her meal scanty, it’s forbidden.  If the only reason I want to do something is because someone else told me not to, the proverb writer says I “lack sense,” v16, as do all of Folly’s guests.

Wisdom offers her feast to all, but specifically to “those who lack understanding” and are wise enough to realize their need.  Folly offers hers to those who are “going straight on their way,” v 15.  They already think they know what they need to know.  They may indeed be simpleminded, v 16, but they don’t realize it.  Going to someone to ask for advice is beneath them, unless of course it’s someone who will tell them what they want to hear. 

Wisdom tells her guests that they must break off from bad company, v 7-8.  Folly, on the other hand, loads her guest list with the worst company of all, and bids the fool to come join them, but he does not know that the dead are there, that her guests are in the depths of Sheol, v 18.

You won’t find a more chilling metaphor, but if you insist on ignoring good advice, trusting in those who scorn the word of God, and whooping it up with the Devil, you will find yourself exactly where Folly holds her parties, consorting with the spiritually dead, and killing your own soul in the process.

Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted, while evil people and impostors will go on from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived, 2 Timothy 3:12-13.

Dene Ward