I have not completely described our new home to you yet.  We are in the Tampa area, on the eastern edge of Temple Terrace.  In fact, if we walked about three blocks east, we would be in the county.  Our community is small, with tiny lots inside a solid white fence.  We sit on the western perimeter, smack in the middle of the westernmost row of homes.  We are called "Bridgeford Oaks" and many oak trees provide cover throughout.  In fact, our line of houses has one in nearly every yard—except ours.  But enough grow behind and to each side to keep off the blazing sun for a good part of the day.  Our back yard is full shade most all day long.
               The house itself would probably be called small yet, not only is it not the smallest house plan in the neighborhood, it is 150 square feet more than I raised my boys in.  But then they had five acres to play in, so maybe that's not a fair comparison.  Our yard is so small it can be mown in 15 minutes.  The house itself is that color of gray you see everywhere now, the popularity of which I have never understood.  Who wants a house the color of a concrete block?  It looks like a giant cinder block sitting on a pretty green lawn.  Keith says he has never seen a cinder block this color, but that is still what it makes me think of.
               The windows in front look out on a short hedge of schefflera bordered by a row of bright blue evolvulus, aptly named "Blue My Mind," and a desert rose sits out by the front curb.  Two pink tabebuias share space in the tiny front yard, trees grown by our grandson Judah from the seeds of their own tabebuias.  I can hardly wait until they bloom.  Along the north side yard are a rose that blooms almost ferociously, huge beautiful red blooms, a gardenia that is also not bashful about blooming, and yet another schefflera.  It may not be the wealth of bloom and color we had before, but it is not minimal either.
               We are still working on the backyard.  The back door now opens into a tiny corner screened porch, maybe 8 x 8.  Too small for a real porch, so when more money comes along, we will screen in the new 10 x 15 slab we had poured, tearing down the back wall of the other and make one larger L-shaped screened porch.  In view of that future, we planted a long row of fuchsia along the fence.  Keith has also laid enough pavers for a patio right beside the slab that already holds the grill, the portable fire pit, and a couple of chairs.  Once we are finished building back there, more planting will commence in the corners and sides, probably shade tolerant perennials and creeping ground covers.
               For now, my elliptical machine is on that tiny back corner porch of the house.  It takes up about a third of the whole room.  But now that we no longer have big burly men in our house hammering, drilling, sawing, and grunting in various levels of exertion, I am back on the machine trying to keep myself as healthy as possible.  And that is where I was when I heard it.
               We must have been there a good four or five months before he came, sat on the grill lid handle, and started his beautiful loud song.  Even I could see that jaunty little tail sticking up at its unusual angle against the white fence—a wren!  All I had heard before was a hawk that circles the neighborhood from his home over the perimeter fence where a retention pond sits surrounded by yet more oaks. I have heard him several times since then and his sound makes me feel at home once again.  They have wrens in this place!  All is right with the world.
               And the truth is, they have wrens every place in this state.  And somehow, that brought to mind the vision Ezekiel saw in chapter 1.  As I looked, behold, a stormy wind came out of the north, and a great cloud, with brightness around it, and fire flashing forth continually, and in the midst of the fire…came the likeness of four living creatures…they had a human likeness, but each had four faces, and each of them had four wings. Their legs were straight, and the soles of their feet were like the sole of a calf's foot. And they sparkled like burnished bronze. Under their wings on their four sides they had human hands. And the four had their faces and their wings thus: their wings touched one another. Each one of them went straight forward, without turning as they went…Wherever the spirit would go, they went, without turning as they went…Now as I looked at the living creatures, I saw a wheel on the earth beside the living creatures, one for each of the four of them. As for the appearance of the wheels and their construction: their appearance was like the gleaming of beryl. And the four had the same likeness, their appearance and construction being as it were a wheel within a wheel. When they went, they went in any of their four directions without turning as they went. And their rims were tall and awesome, and the rims of all four were full of eyes all around. And when the living creatures went, the wheels went beside them; and when the living creatures rose from the earth, the wheels rose. Wherever the spirit wanted to go, they went, and the wheels rose along with them, for the spirit of the living creatures was in the wheels. When those went, these went; and when those stood, these stood; and when those rose from the earth, the wheels rose along with them, for the spirit of the living creatures was in the wheels (Ezek 1:4-21).
               I hope you can visualize that at least a little bit.  The whole point is that this whatever-it-is could go anywhere, anytime, at a moment's notice.  That was important for the people to hear.  If you go back to the first couple of verses of the chapter, you see that Ezekiel is in Babylon along with the exiles.  Those people had grown up in a culture which confined God to Jerusalem and, specifically, the Temple.  Here they were, hundreds of miles away from God—or so they thought.  It took Ezekiel several long years and, finally, a messenger recounting the fall of the city and destruction of the Temple, to get them to believe it when he told them God was there in Babylon with them, that God could be anywhere! 
               We have grown up with the idea of an invisible God who is anywhere and everywhere, but sometimes we seem to forget that too.  No matter where we go, He is there.  He hears, He sees—all those eyes on the wheels Ezekiel saw tell us that.  And so, that morning, when I finally heard that little wren, I was reminded, too.  God is here too, just like he was in all those lush green acres of birds and squirrels and foxes and bobcats and possums and raccoons, yes, and even snakes.  He is wherever His people are, whenever they need Him.  If anyone thought we were just dots on a five acre plot and of no importance to God, they might think we would really be lost to Him now, on this tiny postage stamp yard lost among thousands more people than before.  But that just isn't true. 
               And He can find you too, no matter where you are or what you are going through.  He may not send you a grand vision such as Ezekiel's; but maybe He will send you a little wren to remind you that God is always there for His people.  He will never leave them alone.
 
The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth (Ps 145:18).
 
Dene Ward

In the past few years I have found myself fighting sleepless nights on more than one occasion.  Keith always tells me that when that happens to him, he sings hymns in his mind until he falls back asleep.  I have yet to find a better thing to do, unless it is praying, but often they are the same.  How many songs can you find in your hymnals that are nothing more than prayers set to music?  I have a feeling that most of David’s psalms follow that same pattern.
            I recently found a phrase in the middle of a scripture that made me smile, even though the context didn’t.  Still, I think pulling that phrase out of its context is not wresting the scriptures in this case.  “God my Maker, who gives songs in the night,” Job 35:10.  I wonder how many times those hymns have popped into our heads because a loving God sent them our way to help calm us and reassure us.
            The righteous sing for joy on their beds, Psalm 149:5.  After I found that verse, I began to wonder why “bed” was particularly mentioned, just as “night” was in Job. 
            Perhaps it is a metaphoric allusion.  We take to our beds when we are seriously ill.  I can get up and do things when I have a cold, but if I am really sick, I am in bed.  People who are nearing death are usually in bed, in fact, we call it the “death bed.”  In times of worry, when we try to sleep, we find ourselves tossing and turning in bed, just as I have done so often recently.  Why would we be inclined to sing at those times?
            Isn’t it obvious?  If we are God’s children, we have hope, we have a foundation of joy in our lives that keeps us grounded, and that joy often shows itself in song.  Even in prison, having been beaten and wondering what the morning would bring, Paul and Silas sang hymns of praise “at midnight,” Acts 16:25.  They weren’t in a comfortable bed, but the “nighttime” of trouble was upon them.  Even from childhood, aren’t we all just a little afraid of the dark?
            Do not think it strange that songs often come to us during these times.  Our God does not leave us desolate.  He gives us songs in the “night,” songs of comfort, songs of hope, songs of praise for his grace and love, songs of encouragement, songs of edification and even chastisement.  Those songs would not come to your mind without a God who cared enough not only to send his Son, but to send you songs in the times you need them most, in the night time of sorrow and fear and pain. 
            Often the grace of God comes in a song that keeps going round and round in your mind.  It’s up to you to sing it.
 
By day the LORD commands his steadfast love, and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life. Psa 42:8
 
Dene Ward

It hasn't been long since I used an article by Doy Moyer.  But then I came upon this, probably on Facebook posted by someone else, and knew immediately that I needed to share it.  Especially as a parent, God expects us to be the  watchdogs of the home--do not be afraid to say, "We will not watch this in our house."
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Compiled by guest writer Doy Moyer.

While it is difficult to find movies or shows that are worth watching (for various reasons), I do believe Christians need to consider how to evaluate what they watch and hear from the biblical perspective. In recently reading Unraveling Philosophy by Groza and Moreland, I found these questions helpful:

1. What is the point of the movie or show? Movies are not made in a vacuum. There will be an ultimate message, and we need to be able to find it. “Spend some time ascertaining the point of the movie and then ask the all-important question: Is that true? Is the movie telling me the truth or is it lying?” (239)

2. What is the story of redemption? Story plots typically involve something that goes wrong. What is the resolution to the problem? “Another word for resolution, in this sense, is redemption. How is the wrong made right?” … “Knowing the story of redemption enables a greater appreciation of the movie. It also helps explain why its message resonates” (241).

3. “What is the perspective on sin? Does the movie make clear the ‘folly of sin’?” Is sin painted in a positive light or not? Are the consequences of sin shown or is the sin glorified? “Movies can tell the truth by exposing the bad consequences of sin, or movies can lie by painting sin in a positive light and minimizing (or excluding altogether) those consequences.” If good is painted as evil and evil as good (cf. Isa 5:20), and the consequences of this are not shown, we might want to look elsewhere.

4. What virtues are promoted or denied? “A good movie celebrates characters for the right reasons; characters who exhibit virtues such as hope, courage, and loyalty” (242). Or are the “heroes” of the movie bad guys who are celebrated in their wickedness and irresponsibility?

Groza and Moreland finish with this:
“The goal is to provide a framework for thought and conversation for the purpose of discerning beauty and its relation to truth. The goal is not to read Christian themes into art where such themes do not fit, or to impose a Christian worldview against the evidence within the movie. The principle of charity requires that Christians seek to understand the message of a film as it is presented and not as we will it to be understood. Not every story is a Christian story. It is legitimate to see Christian themes where they exist. It is not legitimate, charitable, or honest to force such themes.” (243)

Perhaps we just want to watch shows for entertainment purposes. We don’t want to overthink it. But we cannot afford not to think at all. We are inviting ideas and philosophies into our minds and we will either interact with them with a godly perspective or we will mindlessly imbibe what we see and hear. Let’s be careful, therefore, how we hear, and seek to walk with wisdom and understanding even in our recreational time. If there is nothing redeemable about a story, will the time spent on it be redeemable?

Via Doy Moyer and whoever shared it.   Thank you both!

Several years back we camped at Cloudland Canyon one autumn week, enjoying the new varieties of bird, the mountains carpeted with fall colors, and the spectacle every morning of clouds wafting through the campground from the cliffs just beyond it, cliffs high enough to look down on hawks as they soared by. 
            The neighbors twenty yards away were a small family, a man, his wife, and two little boys, the older about 7 or 8, and the younger just barely past the toddler years.  This was obviously a planned family outing, one that probably didn’t happen very often but that the parents were determined to make a good experience.  They did everything in a planned and almost regimented fashion.  “It’s time to light the fire.”  “Now it’s time to tell ghost stories.”  “Now it’s time to roast marshmallows.”  In between all this, the mother was on her cell phone every hour or so, sometimes for as long as a half hour, seeing to her business. 
            And both parents became impatient at the drop of a hat.  If the boys didn’t react to every activity as they thought they should, they became frustrated and almost angry.  (Who should be surprised if a ghost story terrified a four year old?)  They had mistaken the stereotype of a camping trip for the spontaneous fun of the real thing.  They had probably fallen for that “quality time” myth.
            And because we can’t seem to stop helping out, we offered them a few things, like some lighter wood to help get those campfires going more easily, and we occasionally stopped by on the way back and forth from the bathhouse, to talk and reminisce with them about the times when our two boys were that age.  They seemed appreciative, especially the father, who, we discovered when we got closer, was about 20 years older than the usual father of boys that age, and quite a few years older than the mother.
            As we talked we noticed that the older boy always wore Baylor tee shirts and sweat shirts and had a Baylor hat, so Keith talked to him some about football and asked how Baylor was doing.  The father sighed and said, “He doesn’t know anything about Baylor football.  He just likes the color green.”
            They left after just a weekend, and it sounded like they were leaving one night early, perhaps disappointed that this hadn’t turned out quite like they had expected. 
            You can learn a lot yourselves, just considering this family.  It’s always easier to judge from a distance.  But that little boy can teach us all something today.  Why is it that you assemble where you do?  Why did you choose that place?
            We would all understand the fallacy of going to the handiest place, regardless what they taught.  But how about this:  Do you go where you are needed, or to the place considered the most popular in the area, the most sociable, the one where you wouldn’t mind having people see you standing outside hobnobbing?  Do you go where the work is hard or where the singing is good?  Do you go where the preaching is entertaining or where the teaching is scriptural and plain?  Do you go expecting the church to do for you, or because you want to do for them?
            Too many Christians look upon a church in a proprietary way, as if they had the right to judge everything about it and everyone in it, especially the superficial things—the singing, the preaching, the way the people dress and their occupations and connections in the world.  The way some people choose congregations, they might as well go because they like the color green. 
            The church belongs to Christ, that’s what “church of Christ” means.  It belongs to God, that’s what “church of God” means.  Christ’s church is there to give me an outlet for my service and a source of encouragement toward doing that service.  It is not there to serve me and my preferences. 
            Someday that little boy will grow up and learn to examine the football programs he roots for, choosing them for their character and integrity instead of their colors.  Maybe it’s time we grew up with him.
 
Show hospitality to one another without grumbling. As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace: whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies—in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen. 1 Pet 4:9-13  

When Nathan married, he and his bride asked for my cheesy potato recipe.  It is nothing fancy.  A lot of people make it or something similar and call it funeral potatoes or hash brown casserole.  This one might be a little cheesier than those, though, which accounts for its name.
            My daughter-in-law took it to one of her first potlucks as a bride.  Half a dozen people must have asked her for the recipe.  But nearly every one of them said something like this when they saw the recipe: "But I don't like garlic.  Would it be okay without it?"
            Excuse me, I thought.  You just ate it with the garlic in it and liked it so much you asked for the recipe.  You didn't even realize it contained garlic.  And no, it would not be the same recipe if you changed it.  That's what the word "change" means.  This is all logic, but people don't seem to get it because of personal preference.
            But why should I be so surprised?  People do this all the time with God's Word.  They see how we live—with joy and peace no matter what comes, and they want it.  But when we show them the recipe?  "I don't like that part.  Would it be the same without it?"  No, it would not.  All those various parts enable us to live with joy and peace, even when troubles come our way.  And besides that, it's God's recipe.  I wouldn't want to have the arrogance to tell him that part of it doesn't appeal to me!
            In the beginning I said that I knew of other potato recipes that were similar to mine.  Notice that:  similar, not the same.  There is a reason Nathan likes mine, and now Brooke's, the best.  And there is a reason that God prefers His way of doing things.  You don't have to use my recipe.  But you had better think twice about ignoring His.
 
​There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death (Prov 14:12).
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

Unlike 1&2 Corinthians, which are two separate letters written at different times about different topics to the same group of people, 1&2 Samuel was originally just one cohesive book which got chopped in two for reasons that are lost to history.  The same holds true for the books of Kings and Chronicles.  It's pretty clear that one of the major themes of Samuel is the contrast between the two men anointed by Samuel, at the command of God, to be king over Israel.  One was chosen according to man's criteria, since Israel wanted a king to be like the nations.  Really, the only description given of Saul in 1 Sam. 9 is that he was the most handsome man in Israel and he was the tallest man in Israel.  In 10:24 Samuel asks the people, "Do you see him whom the LORD has chosen?  There is none like him among all the people."  But this man who looked the part did not have the courage, leadership, or moral character to be a good king, as his story shows us through the rest of 1 Samuel.  Then there was the man whom God chose by His criteria, looking into his heart (1 Sam. 16:7).  While David was far from perfect, his purpose in life was to serve God.  When he needed to repent, he modeled for all future generations of believers what true repentance was.  His reign was a golden age and became a symbol for the Messiah who was coming. 
 
So, clearly, one of the themes of this book is the enormous difference between how man would choose versus how God chooses.  In essence, it is a historical illustration of Isa. 55:9  "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts."
 
Now, take that dichotomy, played out between two of God's anointed, and add to it the fact that nearly 28% of the times the words anoint and anointed are used in the OT, they are found in the book of Samuel.  By page count in my Bible, Samuel is less than 7% of the OT.  So, anointed is used four times as often as one might expect in this book.  Now remember that Messiah just means The Anointed One.  Could it be that Samuel was meant not just as an illustration of Is. 55:9, but as a reminder to the Jews during the time of Daniel's fourth kingdom (Rome, during which God would create His kingdom) that the Messiah might not look like they expected?  Instead of an earthly, physical king ruling on a physical throne and ruling the world, Samuel reminds that God's plans might encompass more.  It was to remind them that things are always better when we let God choose our kings, rather than when we choose them.  Perhaps a study of this theme could help us convince Premillennialists of their errors.  For me, the lesson is a reminder to let God choose and follow His plan.  It is bound to be better than my meanderings.
 
Jer. 10:23  "I know, O LORD, that the way of man is not in himself, that it is not in man who walks to direct his steps."      
 
Lucas Ward           

I just finished another field vision test—the one where you put your head in a bowl and press the clicker every time you see a light.  Although I don’t do as well as I used to, the fact that I see any one of those little pinprick lights at all is excellent.
            If you’ve had one of these tests, you know that the patient focuses on a central orange light while white lights of various sizes and brightness blink in different places around the bowl.  In spite of my optic nerve being over half destroyed, I still see at least some light in most areas with only two large blind spots.  For me it is more about how large the lights are and how bright.  Most of what I miss are smaller and fainter.  The damage from nearly thirty surgeries of various kinds with bright lights shining down over the operating table for hours, chronic follicular conjunctivitis caused by strong medications needed for much worse maladies than that, pressure spikes, and iris bombe makes those things difficult. 
            We must be careful not to damage our spiritual vision in a similar way.  When you’ve been hurt, especially more than once by people you have been taught to trust, it’s easy to view the world with something we call “a jaundiced eye.”  Innocence gives way to cynicism, but instead of fighting it we call it “maturity” or “hard-won wisdom.”  That makes it okay to expect the worst, assume the worst, and judge the worst.  It gives us permission to snap with sarcasm, snort with disdain, and view with contempt.  It makes a lack of trust not only justifiable but preferable.  After all, who wants to be called a fool for trusting the wrong person?
            Certainly God does not want us to be “children tossed to and fro by every wind of doctrine,” Eph 4:14.  He doesn’t want us to lack common sense, 1 Cor 14:20.  He expects us to “grow up in all things,” Eph 4:15.  He expects us to be “wise as serpents,” Matt 10:16.  But none of that means he wants a people who are skeptical, suspicious and misanthropic by nature.  Does any of that describe the Savior we follow?  Like him, we are also to be “harmless as doves.”
            Do a field vision test on yourself this morning.  Do some situations raise your hackles?  Do certain topics push your buttons?  Do you find yourself unable to see anything good in certain people?  Maybe your vision has been damaged in those areas. 
            I cannot regain any of my lost vision—once it’s gone, it’s gone.  But all of us can regain our spiritual vision.  If you are blind when you view certain people and issues around you, you are probably blind to other more important things as well.  A man once said of Jesus, Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a man born blind, John 9:32.  That blind man had his eyes opened to more than just the world around him.  Suddenly he knew even better than his religious superiors that this man was truly the Messiah.  Why here is the amazing thing, he said to those men, you don’t know where he came from yet he opened my eyes, v 30.
            If you believe in him, as you have so often said you do, he can open your eyes too, no matter how many times you have been hurt, no matter how many times you have closed them against the light of his word.  All you have to do is let him.
 
Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the LORD his God, who made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, who keeps faith forever; who executes justice for the oppressed, who gives food to the hungry. The LORD sets the prisoners free; the LORD opens the eyes of the blind. The LORD lifts up those who are bowed down; the LORD loves the righteous. Psa 146:5-8
 
Dene Ward

Scripture recognizes both our ignorance ("they do not know what they are doing") and our weakness ("he remembers that we are dust"), but it dignifies us by holding us accountable for our thoughts and actions. 

John Stott, Authentic Christianity

In our old place, we had an 80 x 80 garden.  We purposefully planted over a dozen different kinds of seeds and that is the only reason those particular things grew.  But not everything works that way.  We didn’t plant the grass or the dandelions or the oak trees.  We didn’t plant the dollar weed or the stinging nettles or the slash pines.  Yet somehow, whether the wind scattering puff balls or the squirrels burying pine nuts and acorns, or the coats of furry animals grabbing onto burrs and pods as sticky as Velcro and depositing them yards or even miles from the original plants, those seeds were sown.  Planting is not always on purpose.  Sometimes it’s accidental.
            God expects us to plant the seed of the Word, recycling what was put into us.  “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations,” Jesus said in Matt 28:20, followed immediately by, “teaching them to observe all things I have commanded you,” the first of which was to “Go make disciples.”  I am afraid we wait for personal evangelism systems to come our way before we even try; not realizing that we plant something every day, sometimes in spite of ourselves. 
            God has expected his people to teach the succeeding generations since the beginning.  Noah preached for 120 years while he built that ark, and achieved nothing, right?  No, he saved his family.  I have known preachers who were so busy preaching and holding personal Bible studies that they completely ignored the prospects in their own homes.  I have known Christians who expected the church to do their work for them, and then wondered what happened when their children fell away.  “Fathers raise your children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord” (Eph 6:4), not churches, not Bible class teachers, not even mothers—FATHERS.  That’s where the buck stops with God.
            Churches are taught to pass the gospel along. If we behave ourselves as we ought, even our mere existence “makes known the manifold wisdom of God” to the world (Eph 3:10).  The teaching is internal as well. The older women are to train the younger, and the older men the younger men (Titus 2:2-8).  Preachers are told to train others to preach (2 Tim 2:2).  God expects his people to be farmers, planting the seed year after year, on purpose.  Yet we plant accidentally too.
            You plant it in your children every time they see you make an important decision.  You plant it in them every time they see you study your Bible and pray.  You plant it in them with home Bible studies, with family prayers, and even with your comments as you live your life.  Do they see thanksgiving or griping?  Do they hear love and appreciation of other Christians or backbiting and gossip?
            You plant it in your friends and neighbors when they see you in the car every Sunday morning without fail.  You plant it in them when they see how you handle the trials of life, or even the small nuisances.  You plant it in them when you lend a hand, even unasked.  You plant it in them when you say good things about your church family.  You plant it in them when you invite them to a Bible study or a group service.  What kinds of things do you bother to invite your friends to except the things that matter most to you?  . 
            Even when we think we aren’t, we are always planting.  Even fallow fields do not stay empty.  Grass, weeds, and even volunteer vegetables spring up untended.  “Fallow” doesn’t mean bare, it means unused or idle.  A fallow heart simply doesn’t care what comes up.  Sowing the seed is a little bit like setting an example—you do it whether you intend to or not.  You are planting something with every word and action.  Make sure it’s the gospel.
 
Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap. For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. Gal 6:7-9
 
Dene Ward

Shortly after we bought our new home, our son's apartment reached the end of its lease, forcing him to decide whether to renew the lease or try to find a more economical place to live.  When he first got there, the rent was more than reasonable, especially for a beach town, but thirteen years and a ton of inflation later, it has tripled.  As a bachelor working a full time job and preaching full time as well, he has no time for the lawn care, home maintenance and repair that a homeowner must take care of.  Instead he signs a one year lease and lets the landlord handle all of that, and is able to move as it suits him.  We, on the other hand, signed a thirty year mortgage and take care of it all.
            Some people view Christianity that way.  They sign a lease when times get tough, expecting the Landlord to fix the broken things.  When times are better, their lack of complete commitment shows in less devotion and service or even a complete failure to renew the lease. 
God expects, not a thirty year mortgage, but a lifetime commitment.  He demands all of you—your deeds (Col 3:17), your thoughts (Phil 4:8), your very being (Gal 2:20).  Nothing less will do.
          Does that happen the minute you come out of the water?  No.  But it cannot happen if you have not made that ritual commitment, any more than you are a homeowner until you sign the papers.  That is your commitment and for the rest of your life you strive to live up to it, growing stronger as the days pass, giving more and more of yourself every day.
          If you haven't made that commitment at all, maybe today is the day to start again, not by being baptized again, for we are all still learning and growing at that point, but by better recognizing what God requires and getting on with it.  It is never too late as long as you can draw breath.
          God is not your landlord.  He holds the lien on you, a lien you will never be able to pay back.  Thank him for his grace and give him your life in gratitude.
 
We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin (Rom 6:4-7).
 
Dene Ward