What goes on in the realm of Biblical scholarship never ceases to amaze me.  If you want not just a glimpse, but a complete package tour of the subject, this book will sign you on for a first class round trip ticket.  I have suggested some of the smaller, easier to digest books of Dr. McGrew's before.  This one is more of a project.  Not only is it longer, but, despite several endorsers recommending it to us laymen, I found it to be much more difficult to comprehend.  However, it was worth the effort.  So it takes you three months to get through, and you find yourself rereading several sentences, you will understand more than ever before what those so-called scholars are doing to your Bible and to your Lord.
            Here is the problem:  we always expect liberal scholars to look at the Scriptures as a book of myths and the Lord himself as "just a good teacher."  They have now taken the gospel of John and accused that apostle of not only moving events around in the life of Jesus, but completely making them up and even putting words into Jesus' mouth that he never said.  Supposedly, John did not write exactly what happened; instead, he wrote made-up events that explain Jesus and his theology.  He never really said, "I am the way, the truth and the life," but he became that to his followers, so John put it down as spoken words.  Perhaps the worst part of this, is that even evangelical (conservative) scholars are going along with it.  It has become a sign of idiocy in the Bible scholar world, evidently, to accept John's gospel as "historical reportage" (truth).
            Dr. McGrew uses her skills as an analytical logician to completely pull apart their pathetic (it really is) reasoning.  And I mean completely.  She leaves no stone unturned, to be trite about it, even to the point of, well, tedium occasionally.  (She uses the word herself.)  Because of all her painstaking work, we can know that the Apostle John is writing through "the eyes of the beholder," not making things up.  And to deny her conclusions after her obvious undoing of them, tells tales on the hearts of those who still refuse it, who obviously have their minds made up despite the facts and despite their lame logic. 
            She also includes an appendix that settles in my mind that John the apostle, the Lord's cousin, the Beloved Disciple (and you would be surprised what the liberal thinkers do with those terms) wrote the fourth Gospel.
            Yes, it's worth your time, along with anything else Lydia McGrew has written.
            The Eye of the Beholder is published by DeWard Publishing Co.
 
Dene Ward

Now there was in Joppa a disciple named Tabitha, which, translated, means Dorcas. She was full of good works and acts of charity (Acts 9:36).
            Joppa was the main seaport of ancient Israel, the place from which Jonah fled the Lord when he refused to preach to Nineveh.  It is now called Jaffa.  A disciple named Dorcas lived there.  Notice, she is called a "disciple," not a "woman."  Perhaps Luke is stressing the truth of Gal 3:28: There is now neither Jew nor Greek…slave nor free…male nor female for you are all one in Christ Jesus.  And to cement the notion, notice later in the text that two men went after Peter when she died.  Two men thought this woman was important enough to try to persuade that great apostle to come to their aid.  I am not sure that would have happened in the Old Testament or anywhere else in the Greek or Roman world.
            We know very little about her.  Some assume she was a widow since no husband is mentioned.  We do know that it is the widows who showed Peter all the clothes Dorcas had made for them.  Since our social lives tend to revolve around those with like circumstances, widows and other singles are often left out of the couples group and must resort to gathering with their own kind, but none of this is definitive.
            The real point is this woman's service to others.  Luke tells us she was "full of good works" making her the epitome of verses like, …women should adorn themselves…with what is proper for women who profess godliness—with good works, 1 Tim 2:9,10.  Do we really have any doubt at all that she was a godly woman?
            Many might wonder why Peter would bother to raise from the dead someone so ordinary, a disciple to be sure, but one who was not famous, who did not travel around preaching, who did not, it seems, even keep preachers in her home.  After all, Stephen, the deacon and great speaker had been killed not many years before.  Not long after this, James, Jesus' own cousin and one of the Twelve, even one of that special cohort of three who often accompanied the Lord, would be killed.  But who was raised from the dead?  A woman who was "full of good works."  A woman who simply helped the poor.  If you are familiar with the prophets, with God's special concern over the injustice among his people perpetuated by the rich against the poor, this should not be such a surprise.  Maybe we need to go back and read those books again before we dare to make judgments about exactly who is and is not the most important disciple among us.
            God thought the church needed Dorcas, so He sent her back at Peter's call.  Would anyone think the same about me?
 
The saying is trustworthy, and I want you to insist on these things, so that those who have believed in God may be careful to devote themselves to good works. These things are excellent and profitable for people (Titus 3:8).                                                                           
 
Dene Ward

The cliché is now true—my doctor is my social life.  When you start seeing the same issues of the same magazines in four different offices, you know it's so.  So the other day I actually found a new magazine to look at:  Country Living.  Let me look through this, I thought.  Maybe I am one of the few here who could appreciate it. 
            Boy, was I wrong.  In fact, the title of this magazine was wrong.  This was not country living it depicted.  It was some wealthy people who decided they wanted to get out of town and thought the peace and quiet would be wonderful, but only a few minutes a day of it.  I know them personally.  We have several within a mile of us.  One of their homes (well, it might as well have been one of the ones near us) was showcased in a ten page spread so you could copy their decorating schemes.  Notice these items:
            Plank floors in a 15 x 20 kitchen--(Are they planning to square dance in it?)
            A pedestal sink in the "powder room"--(A powder room?  A mud room out in the country, maybe, but forget powdering your nose if you're going out to the garden in June or July.) 
            Cabinet hardware at $25 each piece--(A $25 cabinet knob?  I mean, really, all you do is pull the thing, and sometimes you still have some of that garden mud on your hands when you do.)
            $35 each throw pillows in an all-white room--(An all-white room in the country?  Where there are no sidewalks and you have to walk through the mud to get to the steps?)
            $1400 each wicker chairs on the front porch--(I couldn't relax just walking ten feet away from a $1400 chair, much less sitting in it.  And no one in their right mind would shell peas or shuck corn in it. So what's it good for?)
No, this is not country living.  It is mere pretense.  In fact, our experience has been that these are the folks who pack up and head back into town (a 50-60 mile round trip) 5 or 6 days a week to go shopping, play a round of golf or a set of tennis, have lunch with the girls, or get a manicure.  The only thing they do in the country is sleep.  Try inviting them to help with hog-slaughtering day in return for a share of the meat and watch them melt into a pale puddle of angst.
            But—take a look around you on Sunday morning and you will find that this magazine isn’t the only place for pretenders.  Some people go to church because you are "supposed to."  That's what good, moral people do.  I grew up around a lot of folks like that.  Some choose a place out of convenience, not because they believe what it teaches.  Others go because their parents raised them that way, not out of any real conviction.  Some go for the benefits—people come see you when you're sick, someone will always help out if you have a need, and there is always a preacher handy for weddings and funerals.
            So let's think about it this morning.  Why am I where I am on Sunday mornings?  If I can't come up with an answer beyond the ones above, I just might have a problem.  I might be no more a Christian than those folks I know who are not "country people," no matter where their home happens to be located.  God expects a commitment—one of the heart, one of faith, one of understanding what you believe and why, and being willing to stand up for it. 
God expects Christians who really are.
 
“As for you, son of man, your people who talk together about you by the walls and at the doors of the houses, say to one another, each to his brother, ‘Come, and hear what the word is that comes from the LORD.’ And they come to you as people come, and they sit before you as my people, and they hear what you say but they will not do it; for with lustful talk in their mouths they act; their heart is set on their gain. And behold, you are to them like one who sings lovely songs with a beautiful voice and plays well on an instrument, for they hear what you say, but they will not do it. (Ezek 33:30-32)
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by Keith Ward.

Back in the old days when I was young, boys carried pocketknives everywhere—especially to school. Of course, we showed them off during recess and we whittled, not so much to make things but to prove whose knife was the sharpest. So, I learned to sharpen knives. And then Dad taught me to sharpen axes and I learned to take pride that my mower blades were as sharp as anyone's pocketknife. The mower cuts better and easier for a smoother lawn.

After I left full time preaching, I often preached by appointment in small churches and these were usually too far away to return home for lunch. Of course, someone would take me (or us) in for lunch. As a way to show gratitude, I would offer to sharpen their kitchen knives. I have been amazed to find that few know how to sharpen.  I still recall one sister asking me not to get them too sharp so she would not cut herself.  No amount of discussion or logic would convince her that a dull knife was more dangerous and more likely to result in serious cuts. But, it is true, one pushes harder to cut with a dull knife and it is more likely to slip and the force of the push will result in a more serious cut. A sharp knife would have cut the object more easily and resulted in no accident at all.

Dull knives are a danger in the church. Most of the trouble I have witnessed in 50 years has been caused by people of dull understanding but a sharp sense of the value of their opinion. They wield them wildly, slashing the air all about, certain that because they have not changed their minds in years, it must be truth. They bruise the innocent, slash the sensitive, kill the ignorant seekers. 

            But, should you attempt to sharpen their knowledge and understanding with sound scripture and unassailable logic, they will either go away in a huff or grudgingly concede, but spout that same dull basic or even erroneous point the next time that subject comes up. They can be sharpened no more than the edge of a two by four.

One's knowledge, understanding and abilities are not sharpened alone in the study. They are brought to a smooth and "sharp as a two-edged sword" edge by discussions with another of a different, even opposing viewpoint (sometimes, even sharp discussions). To become sharp, one must listen, then think, then give answer, listen, then think. If both are honest, one will change or both will. The truth may be that neither is wholly right but you are both sharpened by the discussion.

Think seriously: When did you last have an argument about the Word? An honest toward God argument determined to win and show the other the truth, yet also willing to listen. It likely has been too long and you have become dull in an age where no one wants to argue for anything.

The last step of sharpening a knife is to put it to the steel to true the edges. In fact, many times, this is all a knife needs as the edges were bent aside by being used. Thus, the chefs on a cooking show are often seen whetting their knives on a steel.

So, also do you. Learn something. Form an opinion. Go out to your friends and brothers and test it against the steel of other views. GROW sharper.
 
"Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another. " (Prov 27:17).

Keith Ward

All of a sudden, my mother can no longer take care of herself.  As with most things, I am sure it was a gradual process, one we had missed seeing until it became impossible not to.  So in the past few weeks we have moved her to assisted living, a clean, safe, and pleasant place with more than adequate care, that is also close to doctors and hospitals—which her own doctor insisted on when he found out how far out we lived.  That has meant going through her things item by item, photograph by photograph, sheet of paper by sheet of paper—more than 10,000 sheets, I am sure.  It has meant copying power of attorney documents again and again, faxing to mysterious phone numbers, trying to get through phone banks with half-forgotten passwords and codes, signing paper after paper and check after check.  The stress was worse than the work, I think, but finally the worst seems to be over.
            I looked at Keith and said, "We need to start thinking about this ourselves.  If we don't need it, throw it away.  If it will not be important to our kids, toss it.  Don't buy any more of something we have plenty of, and if it's broken and we don't get around to mending it or repairing it within a few months, put it in the trash."  What we have thrown away in the past few months would have filled half a dozen dumpsters.  Our burn barrel has worked overtime on items with confidential information that are far past the need for keeping.  Do we really need all three versions of my mother's will or just the most recent?  I think the answer to that is pretty obvious.  Let's not put our children through this.
            Instead, let's look at what we have that is valuable, that would mean something to them, that might actually make their lives easier, and take better care of those things.  Let's make sure they are legible, neat, and filed in an obvious place.  If I expect them to want any of my cookbooks, let me make the notes in them useful and understandable.  If they want my piano music, let's make sure it is filed in alphabetical order and that torn pages are carefully taped back together.  Let's write the names and dates on the backs of photographs, and the names of the givers inside gift books.  Let's keep owners' manuals in an appropriate place and never leave them outside where the weather might destroy them.  And we could go on and on.
            All of these are good, but here is something much more important:  look at your family today and make a judgment about the spiritual state you are leaving them in.  If your children are in high school and still don't know how to sort their laundry or put gas in the car, most people would consider you a poor parent.  But if they are in high school and cannot carry on an intelligible conversation about several spiritual matters, including pertinent scriptures, "poor" wouldn't come close to describing your parenting skills.  It is not only your job to make them ready for life, it is your job to prepare them for spiritual success as well.
            They should be "in training" as apprentice Christians, memorizing scriptures, reading and discussing during family time the meaning of their studies, accompanying you when you visit and when you serve, cooking for others, cleaning for others, handling the yard work for widows or older couples who no longer can (perhaps for their own grandparents), and doing all those things you do as a Christian so they will be able to take over seamlessly when the time comes.
            Let's not leave out churches.  We should be looking around and imagining the congregation ten, fifteen, twenty years from now.  Who will do the teaching?  Who will serve as deacons and elders?  Are you preparing anyone at all?
            I am afraid that too many churches will dry up on the vine when the present crop of older heads dies off.  Others will wander off into some sort of sectarianism, drifting from the teachings of the New Testament until they no longer even resemble the church Christ died for because we have forgotten to teach them "Why."
            Every generation must look around and prepare for these things, and hope it isn't already too late.
 
…I seek not yours, but you: for the children ought not to lay up for the parents, but the parents for the children. 2Cor12:14
Dene Ward

When you are born with a disability, especially a rare one that no one has heard of like I was, or when you develop one in your twenties that is practically invisible like Keith has, you have learned to handle all sorts of inappropriate and insensitive remarks with grace and equanimity.  You begin to feel like you should quack once in a while—as it all rolls off your back.
            But there is one remark that always rankles, me more than Keith, although it is always directed at him:  "You can hear what you want to hear."
            Sometimes it's supposed to be a joke—a poor one; sometimes it's one of those "manly" gibes; but every time it shows ignorance on the part of the one who says it.  The temptation is strong to wish the malady on them for just one week and see if their tune doesn't change.  I have to beat that unkind thought off with a stick far too often.  Not Keith—he doesn't hear it!
            He started going deaf while he was in the Marines.  No one knows why; it does not run in the family.  He was prescribed his first pair of hearing aids six months into our marriage at the age of 27, and he has gone downhill steadily.  He is now labelled "profoundly deaf."
            If he can't see your mouth, he can't "hear" you.  He lip-reads most of the time.  When the church decides to reserve the front center seats for a certain group that does not include the visually or aurally impaired, they are effectively removing him, and those like him, from the worship.
            At home he cannot hear me calling from another room.  Even if we are working side by side, we cannot talk as we work because he is keeping his attention on what he is doing.  Especially if we are doing something like peeling and chopping tomatoes for canning, he cannot even take a half second to look at my lips without endangering himself.  And I don't know about you, but I would find it hard to say much in half a second.
            At night when the lights go out, all communication ceases.  No pillow talk for us.  We have even had to work out a signal just in case I hear a prowler in the night, something I can do involving touch that tells him there is danger, but that he needs to keep quiet.
            When I have to be away from home overnight, he doesn't sleep well at all.  You cannot go to bed with your hearing aids on any more than you can with your glasses.  Without them, he cannot hear the smoke alarm, even though it is right outside our bedroom door.  A bad guy could hack the door down with an axe and be on him before he knew it.  Doesn't make for easy sleeping.
            When he works outside, he cannot wear his hearing aids.  They will short out from the moisture of perspiration.  Anyone who works with him has to learn how to communicate, and let me tell you, it can be exasperating.
            Yet, I can understand why people do not quite get it.  First, it's not always about volume.  A man and a woman could say something at precisely the same volume and assuming he can see them, he might hear the man but not the woman.  She speaks in a higher frequency.  Children are even worse, especially the younger ones whose speech is not yet clear. 
            Accents are a problem.  People from another country often speak in a different cadence, so besides pronunciation issues, the small things he has grown to count on that you never even notice are just "off."  So, yes, to the ignorant, it might seem like he can "hear" when he wants to.
            Even lip-reading is not the ultimate solution.  Many words "look" the same on the lips.  What "reads" like one word can easily be another.  He counts on knowing the subject in order to figure out the words.  Names and numbers have absolutely no context.  More often than not he gets them wrong, no matter who is saying them or how loudly.
            "Hearing" is a real chore for him.  What he hears is a fill-in-the-blank test.  He is constantly working to read lips, remember the context, and consider several possible words in a split second—every second.  Trying to keep up in a conversation with more than two others is next to impossible.  Sitting down to a relaxing conversation is a pipedream.
            "You can hear what you want to hear?"  Believe me, there are many things he would love to hear but can't.
            Like the voices of his children when they were little and wanted to tell Daddy something.  And now his grandchildren.  Gradually, they just gave up trying.
            Like the phone ringing when I got stuck in Birmingham in the middle of the night a long time ago.  It's a wonder I ever made it home.
            Like the several times I've needed urgent help outside in the yard, or even from another room in our one story, thirteen hundred square foot house and he could not come running. 
            Like being able to hear himself and others well enough to stay in key during the singing at church.  Here is a man who once played violin, one of the most aurally demanding instruments there is.  When we were dating, we talked about someday me playing the orchestral accompaniment to his violin concerto.  Never happened—he was already too deaf when we married.
            But he still loved to sing.  One time some middle schoolers sat in front of us at a church that will remain unnamed.  We noticed they were passing notes, but thought nothing of it until the service was over and they had left some trash in the pew.  He reached down to pick it up and throw it away.  There in his hand lay the note they had passed:  "Do you hear that guy behind us.  He sure sounds weird.  Who told him he could sing?"  God did actually, and he does, no matter what anyone else thinks, but he does wish he could hear well enough to still do it well.
            Yet that little comment, "You can hear what you want to hear," does have a valid application, even for normal hearing people.
            “Hear this, O foolish and senseless people, who have eyes, but see not, who have ears, but hear not. ​Do you not fear me? declares the LORD. Do you not tremble before me? I placed the sand as the boundary for the sea, a perpetual barrier that it cannot pass; though the waves toss, they cannot prevail; though they roar, they cannot pass over it. ​But this people has a stubborn and rebellious heart; they have turned aside and gone away. They do not say in their hearts, ‘Let us fear the LORD our God, who gives the rain in its season, the autumn rain and the spring rain, and keeps for us the weeks appointed for the harvest.’ (Jer 5:21-24)
            This is why I speak to them in parables, because seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not hear, nor do they understand. (Matt 13:13)
            If we don't want to hear the truth, we won't.  We can even hear the words and come up with a completely different meaning, thus, Jesus' warning:  Take heed how you hear, (Luke 8:18.
            So if you suddenly feel a need to say, "You can hear what you want to hear," to someone who is hearing disabled, stop--remember to apply it to yourself first.
 
And unto them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah, which says, By hearing ye shall hear, and shall in no wise understand; And seeing ye shall see, and shall in no wise perceive: For this people's heart is waxed gross, And their ears are dull of hearing, And their eyes they have closed; Lest haply they should perceive with their eyes, And hear with their ears, And understand with their heart, And should turn again, And I should heal them. But blessed are your eyes, for they see; and your ears, for they hear. (Matt 13:14-16)
 
Dene Ward

So faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of Christ Rom 10:17.

We all know that verse and quote it by rote, which is the problem—we don't think about what it says.  What we have just acknowledged in our quoting is that we can only have as much faith as our knowledge (or lack of) allows.

Every place we have worshipped, we have started a women's Bible class.  We could make a few points about that—about how women are the ones who willingly gather on a continuous basis for extra Bible study—but that's not the issue today.  Today I want to share with you things I have learned over the past 40 plus years about how to have a profitable women's Bible class.

1.  Do not allow it to become a hen party or a gossipfest.  I have heard that accusation in many places.  I have even had women refuse to come to my class because they assume that is what it is.  In fact, even after assurances, I had one woman tell me I was a liar and walk away "because they're all that way." 
     It is one thing to have a pre-determined amount of time set aside at the beginning of class (no more than 10 minutes) to share who needs our service that week—meals, visits, prayers, etc., especially before a prayer.  It's quite another to gossip.  

2.  Make it a real study time.   Everyone should understand that there will be work involved outside of class time.  We aren't coming to rehash the same old stuff, things we have known since childhood and can discuss off the cuff.  That would be a waste of a busy woman's time.  Don't allow it to become a gabfest either, but a directed discussion that will actually help people learn and grow.
     I have always had a trusted partner to help get the conversation back on track with a carefully worded question.  That way it doesn't sound like a rebuke when we suddenly stop the scattergun approach that has caused the class to stray from topic and go back to the matter at hand—which is learning something new.
     I have lost count of the times women have come to class only to leave after a week or two "because it's too much work."  Yes, it's work to learn something new.  You actually have to think a little bit.  You might even need to change your mind about a few things, but isn't that more exciting than the same old same old?

3.  Choose good, deep material that is suitable to the group.  If most of you are widows, why study "How to be a Good Wife?"  In fact, though it is never wrong to revisit those types of studies, even a class full of young wives and mothers needs to learn other things too.  How about the Psalms?  How about the prophets?  How about a topical study like faith?
     And don't judge a workbook by its title.  Ask someone who has used it.  For example, my Born of a Woman is often dismissed as "just another women of the Bible book."  Ask someone who has studied it.  You couldn't be more wrong.  I am sure the same is true of many other books out there. 
    And a word of caution:  I am hearing about a lot of classes using material that is not Biblical at all.  It isn't that I am against using anything written by someone from a denomination.  I pick up commentaries and Bible dictionaries all the time and the vast majority of the time, they are written by Calvinists of various stripes.  But I know what I am reading, I know what those folks believe, and I know what to beware of.  If you don't, you had better put it down until you do.
     And that also means you need to choose a knowledgeable teacher.  She needs to be willing to work harder than ever before in finding those things that are new to everyone, and be willing to go to others (perhaps a preacher or elder?) for help.  What would I have done without a husband who is a walking concordance, whose specialties include Romans, Ezekiel and Revelation, and the history of the Biblical text?  I don't know, but he isn't even the only one I have mined for information.  Don't be too proud to ask for help.

4.  Make it practical.  We are just finishing a three year study I wrote on the prophets.  But we always include the question:  So what does that mean for me?  How can I use this lesson that Isaiah or Micah or Haggai taught?  If all you are learning is pie-in-the-sky theory, how much good will that be to you tomorrow morning?  Theology is great, and yes, women can learn it no matter what anyone else might think, but it won't help you when your life falls apart, when your faith is tested, and you wonder how to put the pieces back together if you haven't learned how to apply the lessons it teaches.

5.  Make your class a safe place.  "What happens in class, stays in class."  Your gathering should be a place where women can ask questions that might raise eyebrows, where women can share faults and weaknesses, and where they can seek advice on touchy, extremely private problems knowing that it won't wind up spread all over the church, where they won't be laughed at, and where their faith won't be questioned. 
     However, as a wiser, older woman, that doesn't mean you can't share with a preacher that a certain topic might be a good one for an upcoming sermon without mentioning any names at all.  It doesn't mean that if a soul is in mortal danger you shouldn't go to the elders and ask for help to deal with it.  If you can't trust them to be discreet, why are they your elders?  And they are ultimately responsible for every soul in their care.

6.  Use this class not only to gain knowledge but to deepen relationships.  It really shouldn't have, but it has astounded me how close these groups of mine have become.  Part of that comes from getting together outside of class as well.  The Tuesday morning class breaks about 11:15 and many go out to lunch.  The third Sunday afternoon class eats a fast potluck lunch together, along with the husbands and children, before returning to the building for our 2 hours of study.  We have gone to the hospital together.  We have visited homes together.  When you feel comfortable and safe with one another (see number 5) you want to be together, and togetherness fosters closeness and understanding.  Use it.

7.  Invite others.  Sometimes it's hard to change the dynamic of a group.  We tend to want to keep it all to ourselves.  That's not what a Christian does.  Just as we want to share the gospel, we should want to share with our sisters what we have found in our Bible study group. 

Don't be discouraged.  If you have a class of depth that requires some work, it won't be as popular as the old hen parties of old.  But somewhere more women hunger for the Word just like you did, and they will be forever grateful if you find them.
 
Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation— if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good. (1Pet 2:2-3)

Dene Ward

In case you haven't figured it out, I love for our grandsons to visit.  My house is a wreck, my schedule is shot, I live on chicken nuggets and mac and cheese and watch either Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or Paw Patrol.  The laundry piles up and sometimes the dishes, which is a real mess because I don't have a dishwasher to hide them in.  I sit by the plastic pool being splashed on purpose and loving it, or egg on the mudfights, perfectly happy to clean up the resulting mess.  I help build highways in the ever present Florida sand, chase rocket sling shots as they scream through the sky, throw flimsy balsa airplanes into loop-de-loops, and push a swing till my arms want to drop off.  Isn't that what grandmas are supposed to do?
            I fall into bed every night utterly exhausted, but still listening for the whimpers of bad dreams or the cries of a sick tummy from too much homemade chocolate sauce on the ice cream, and get up and run whenever necessary.  Sleeping late is not an option, but who would want to anyway?  Every day is another chance to build those memories and instill those values with a Bible story every night, a memory verse picture card, a Bible game, or craft.  And then there is this.
            Every morning I lie there still in the mists of sleep when suddenly I am pelted by a soft, well-worn stuffed tiger—Lucky is his name—then a fairly new crocheted and stuffed Mignon (ask your grandkids), and finally a "blankie" slowly unfurling as it flies through the air like the flying scroll in Zechariah's vision.  Our bed is high off the floor, and a toddler cannot possibly climb in without both hands to pull up by.  So after the pelting ends, the bed begins to shake and a little blond head begins to rise over the sides of the mattress, little hands persistently pulling on the sheet, little grunts of exertion sounding with every pull.  I reach down and pull on a pajama bottom waistband, giving him just the impetus he needs to climb on to the top, then burrow under the covers next to me.  I snuggle against the warm little body, the scents of bubble bath, baby shampoo, and lotion wafting up around us in the body heat.  When his head hits the pillow he rolls away from me only to scoot quickly backwards so I can spoon him and wrap him with both arms.  We are both back asleep in less than a minute.
            At least until the next set of footsteps comes in, heavier and faster, a boy whose head is already higher than the edge of the bed, who can easily scale the billowy mattress and bedclothes and who, already knowing from longer experience that he is more than welcome, clambers right on in all the way over me, and snuggles down between me and his Granddad.  The game of "Wake up Granddad" ensues, giggling at the pretend growls and grumbles, growing louder with each attempt, until finally we are all good and awake and ready to begin the long day of play again.  Do you think I begrudge the sleep?  You know better than that.
            Yet knowing all of that, we sometimes act like God would begrudge the attention we ask of him, apologizing for bothering him "when there are more important things" for him to do.  Just like there is nothing more important than my children or grandchildren's welfare, there is nothing more important to God than ours.  Understand:  that does not mean he will always say yes to his children any more than I always say yes to mine.  That does not mean that there may not be things we will never understand in this world, nor maybe even in the next.  But you are important to God.  He revels in the relationship you two have.  How do I know?  Look what he sacrificed to have it.
            And don't you believe in his infinite power?  I may have to leave things undone in order to spend time with Silas and Judah.  God never has to leave things undone.  He can do it all, including the piddly little things we sometimes beg for while still keeping the earth spinning on its axis and the sun rising again and again.
            If you haven't climbed into the warm bed of love and compassion that God feels toward you, don't blame God.  He wants you there.  He will help pull you into the safety and comfort of his arms.  He won't begrudge a minute of it—unless you do.
 
I waited patiently for the LORD; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the LORD. (Ps 40:1-3)
 

While that old chestnut about "reverend" only being in the Bible once is wrong (the English word may only be in the King James Version once, but the Hebrew word it is translated from is in there well over 300 times and often refers to men), the scriptures are plain about the attitude we should have toward God and only God, both in word and deed.
            In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim. Each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. And one called to another and said: “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!” And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke. And I said: “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!” (Isa 6:1-5)
            If that passage doesn't make you shiver, you have missed its point.  Isaiah felt that reverential awe we should all feel about God.  Contrast his words with the casual approach we take to God these days.  I imagine the old story about the young man who walked up front to pray on behalf of the congregation and began his prayer with, "Hi Dad!" is apocryphal.  Or maybe it isn't.  But it doesn't take much time to look and listen to see that attitude everywhere in our culture, maybe in our assemblies as well in many other ways.
            Here's something else to think about.  Look at the next few verses in Isaiah.  Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a burning coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth and said: “Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for.” And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” Then I said, “Here I am! Send me.” And he said, “Go, and say to this people…’ (Isa 6:6-9)
            Isaiah's sin had to be atoned for before he could speak God's word to others.  It only makes sense.  If you are the vessel that God's word comes from, you had better be holy, just as God is.  Now how about me?  How about you?  If my life speaks of sin, I am not fit to proclaim His Word.  If my words are not pure, I have no business using my mouth as His.  When I hear a man talk about "his Lord and Savior" and then spout filth or take that same Lord's name in vain, I know he needs a hot coal pressed on those foul lips of his.
            Be careful what you say this morning—and what you do, especially if you plan to talk to people about the Most Holy God.
 
As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.” And if you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one's deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile. (1Pet 1:14-17)
 
Dene Ward

When I was a child we played several board games—Easy Money, Sorry, and Life usually, about the only things we had besides Checkers and Scrabble, which was our parents' game.  Although my boys were more into playing outdoors, climbing trees, jumping off limbs on a Tarzan swing, and shooting the bad guys, whether robbers, Indians, or aliens, they enjoyed a board game occasionally, too.
            So one year as I was trying to teach them the life of David, it suddenly occurred to me that learning that life might be a lot easier if it were a board game.  So after a couple different versions were tried out, the Life of David game came into existence.  I even used it in Bible classes.
           This past spring, we kept our two grandsons for two full weeks.  We have Bible lessons every night when they come to visit and as I was wondering what to teach this time around, I suddenly remembered that old David game.  I wondered if, at 5 and 8, it might be a little too soon, but they sure showed me!
The first night I brought out the game and showed it to them.  "Your daddy and your uncle used to play this," I told them, and instantly they wanted to also.  "First, you have to learn about David, or you will never be able to play the game and win."  Their only question was, "When can we start?"
             I had already gone through 2 Samuel and the first three chapters of 1 Kings and divided it into 7 lessons, with 6 memory verses.  I had drawn lesson sheets—questions with multiple choice "picture" answers, especially since Judah was just finishing up Pre-K this year—not that I needed to worry.  He can read as well as I could in first grade!  We did a lesson every night for a week, reviewing the previous lessons before starting a new one.  After we did the seventh lesson, we spent time reviewing the memory verses cards.  Finally, on the 8th night we were ready to play the game.
            They loved it.  We played it several times over the second week, letting that time be the "Bible lesson" for the day as they cemented facts and verses into their little heads.  When it was time to go home, they wanted to take the game with them.  That's how much they liked it, and I dare anyone reading this to quote those six memory verses and answer all of the 2 dozen questions involved in the game.
            So how do you make your own?  Well, I have no copyright on it, so let me tell you.  If you can draw a straight line with a ruler and write legibly, you can do it, too.  But your first task is to learn the life of David yourself.  You will never be able to make an accurate game otherwise...
          …So now that it's maybe a week or so later, and you know the life of David like the back of your hand, here is what you need:  a standard sized piece of poster board, a black and several colored Sharpies, a straightedge, some card stock, and a pair of scissors. 

1.  First, take your poster board and draw a large square at what you have decided will be your beginning point, usually the bottom left hand corner, preferably in a bright color, and write "BETHLEHEM" on it.  Since David was born there, that is your "START."

2.  Using your black Sharpie and the straightedge, begin drawing a switchback track around the poster board.  The track should be about an inch wide.

3.  Each "square" of the track should be about 1 ½ inches along the track.  As you mark them off, write the various events of David's life and a "consequence" in the squares.  For example:  Kill Goliath.  Go ahead three spaces.  It's okay to have a blank spot here and there.  The boys called them "Safety Zones" because nothing bad can happen to you there.

4.  Every half a dozen squares should be a "?" in a contrasting color.  Obviously, if you land on that, you have to choose a question from the pile and answer it. (More about that in #9.)  In my game, a correct answer lets you move ahead one space and an incorrect answer sends you back one.  You can make it even more consequential if you want to.

5.  Every five or six question marks should be an MV question (initials written down in the corner of the square), which means you have to do a memory verse from the memory verse pile.  More about that in #10, but the same consequences of correct or incorrect follow.

6.  Something a bit trickier here:  David spent a lot of time running from Saul, particularly in Ramah and Gath, and he had a lot of trouble with the people of Ziph who kept telling Saul where to find him.  So as I reached those particular portions of David's life, the board looked something like this:  R ? A ? M ? A ? H.  I did the same with Gath and Ziph.  Do you see?  It was a dangerous time, so there are more questions!  I was also not afraid to put things like "Lose one turn" in those sections. 

7.  On the top and final line of the game, was a brief detour into the wilderness.  That's where David once again had to flee when Absalom rebelled.  So if you landed on the square that led to the wilderness, you had to take that detour.  If your number safely sent you past it, you were lucky.

8.  The final square of the game was a large blue "HOME."  We talked about all of God's people trying to make it back "home" at the end of their lives by doing God's will and accomplishing his purpose for them.  The boys got the point instantly.

9.  Finally, go back and cut out smaller cards, about the size of those Chance Monopoly cards, and write your questions from the Life of David.  Where was David born, Who was David's father, How many brothers did David have, What job did David do for his father, and so on, all the way through his life, ending with, Which son rebelled, Which son tried to take over the kingdom while David was dying, and Which son became king after David died?

10.  Now about those memory verse cards.  When I taught the boys the six memory verses I had chosen—not all from Samuel, by the way, but all matching the evening's lesson in some way—I used the the Stick Man method previously discussed.  By the time playing the game actually came around, those cards had been significantly reduced to one or two drawn images on much smaller cards that by then instantly evoked the verse in question.  By the time Mommy and Daddy came home, those boys shocked them by what they had learned and what they could do, in spite of the fact that Daddy himself had done it as a little boy.

So, are you wondering how to teach your children about the Bible in a way that is fun, but very educational?  Make your own Life of David game—or Life of Any Bible Character game for that matter.  You might learn a little bit yourself.
 
For David, after he had served the purpose of God in his own generation, fell asleep and was laid with his fathers…(Acts 13:36)