Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.
 
Previously I wrote about John 13.  Jesus demonstrated, and then commanded, a love that was shown in self-sacrificing service even to one's enemies.  The devotional was concluded by quoting Phil. 2:3-4:  "Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.  Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others."  Paul provides an example of this type of love (aside from the Lord) later in this very chapter. 
 
Phil. 2:25-30  "I have thought it necessary to send to you Epaphroditus my brother and fellow worker and fellow soldier, and your messenger and minister to my need, for he has been longing for you all and has been distressed because you heard that he was ill.  Indeed he was ill, near to death. But God had mercy on him . . . . So receive him in the Lord with all joy, and honor such men, for he nearly died for the work of Christ, risking his life to complete what was lacking in your service to me."
 
            First, understand Paul's opinion of Epaphroditus.  "MY brother, MY fellow worker and fellow soldier".  Great men often are reluctant to claim any as equals.  Given how many of us view Paul, we might expect him to be similarly remote, yet he holds Epaphroditus close.  This was clearly a great man!  Epaphroditus' love for others is first evident in his concern for the anxiety his brethren in Philippi would feel when they heard that he was sick.  He wasn't worried for his own things (he was sick!), he was thinking of the things of others.
            The love shown by service that Jesus demonstrated in John 13, the looking out for the interest of others, is seen in how Epaphroditus became sick.  Paul says Epaphroditus "nearly died for the work of Christ".  What was that work?  "Service to me," Paul says.  While Paul was in prison, Epaphroditus was so focused on filling Paul's needs that he didn't take care of himself.  He worked himself to exhaustion.  I can almost hear the conversation:
 
Paul:  "Epaphroditus, you don't look so good.  Maybe you should get some rest."
Epaphroditus:  "Right after I get the food put away in the pantry, Paul.  Oh! and then your next shipment of parchment comes in later this morning.  And someone needs to get you a new robe.  And this afternoon I'm interviewing a new stenographer for you.  I'll rest later." 
 
            Epaphroditus' total devotion to the needs of others is a great example for us in learning how to "love one another even as I have loved you" John 13:34.
 
:Lucas Ward

Have you discovered panko yet?  Panko is Japanese bread crumbs, an extra light variety that cooks up super-crunchy on things like crab cakes and shrimp.  They also cost more than regular bread crumbs, but in certain applications they are worth it.    On the other hand a chicken or veal Milanese needs a sturdier crumb to stand up to the lemony butter sauce, an oven fried pork chop needs melba toast crumbs that will cook to a crunch without burning in a high heat oven, and my favorite broccoli casserole needs the faint sweetness of a butter cracker crumb to really set it off.
            Although none of these dishes are the food of poverty, using the crumbs and crusts of food rather than tossing them out certainly grew out of the necessity of using whatever was at hand to feed hungry bellies for thousands of years, and now we all do it, even when there is plenty in the pantry.  Pies and cheesecakes with graham cracker crumb crusts, anyone?  Dressing to stuff your poultry?  Bread pudding on a cold winter night?  Streusel on that warm coffee cake in the morning?  Bread-infused peasant food has even shown up on gourmet cooking shows in the form of panzanella (salad) and ribolita (soup), both of which use chunks of stale bread to bolster their ability to satisfy appetites.
            That reminds me of a woman 2000 years ago who understood the value of leftovers.  Her little daughter was demon-possessed, so ill she could not travel, but her mother had heard of someone who might be able to help, who even then was in hiding from the crowds on the border of her country.  It took a lot for her to seek him out, first leaving her sick child in someone else’s care, then approaching this Jewish rabbi, a type who had either reviled or ignored her all her life; but a desperate mother will make any sacrifice to save her child.
            Sure enough, even though she addressed him by the Messianic title, “Son of David,” he answered her not a word, Matt 15:22,23.  Still she persisted, and this time she was insulted—he called her a dog.  Oh, he was nicer about it than most, using the Greek word for “little pet dog,” kunarion, rather than the epithet she usually heard from his kind--kuno, ownerless scavenging dogs that run wild in the streets, but still he made her inequality in his eyes obvious.
            This woman, though, was ready to accept his judgment of her, Even the dogs get the crumbs, sir.  Moreover, she understood that was all she needed.  This man, whose abilities she had heard of from afar, was more than just a man, and even the tiniest morsel of his power was enough to heal her child, even from a distance.
            Do we understand that?  Do we realize that one drop of God’s power can fix any problem we have, and more, do we have the humility to accept our place in His plan, even if it is not what we have planned?  Yes, every day I ask for more—more grace, more faith, more of His power to change me and use me, but do I really comprehend His strength?  I would say it was impossible to do so, except for the example of this desperate Gentile mother who, like a widow of her nation hundreds of years before her, had more faith, trust, and humility than the religious men of God’s chosen people (I Kgs 17, Luke 4:25,26).
            And for this, perhaps, God chose her to foreshadow in the Son’s life the crumbling of the barrier between Jew and Gentile, and the inclusive nature of the gospel which had been foretold from the beginning: in thy seed shall all nations of the earth be blessed, Gen 22:17. 
            Do I have the faith and humility to accept God’s plan for me?  One thing is certain—this Gentile mother knew she had nowhere else to turn, and neither do we.
            Even God’s crumbs are enough to satisfy our every need.
 
For this cause I bow my knees to the Father…that you…may be strong to apprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God…him who is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think…Eph 3:14, 17-20.
 
Dene Ward

After these things he departed from Athens, and came to Corinth. And he found a certain Jew named Aquila, a man of Pontus by race, lately come from Italy, with his wife Priscilla, because Claudius had commanded all the Jews to depart from Rome: and he came unto them; and because he was of the same trade, he abode with them, and they wrought; for by their trade they were tentmakers (Acts 18:1-3).
            Once again we have a few verses mentioning a particular woman and a boatload of lessons to be learned from her—Priscilla, the wife of Aquila.  And that is the first lesson.  Aquila and Priscilla were always a team.  They worked at a trade together, they taught together (Apollos), and they served together.  Even in a time when we know that the apostles often traveled with their wives (1 Cor 9:5), we read nothing of them, not even their names. But Priscilla was right there working next to her man, and everyone knows her name as a result.
            Next, she was a woman who had a trade—like Paul, she and her husband made tents.  I can imagine the three of them sitting in the agora working on their latest orders, perhaps in one of the very tents they had made.  But her work did not stop her from taking in a stranger—for it seems that Paul did not know them before he encountered them.  In fact, we do not know whether they were already Christians or he converted them when he met them.  If the second, then this new convert did exactly as Lydia did—she immediately began a life of service to others.  (See Part 1.)  She did not use her work as an excuse not to practice hospitality.  And Paul did not come into her home for just one meal; he lived with them for a year and a half.  Not only that, they welcomed the church Paul began there into their home (1 Cor 16:19).
            Aquila and Priscilla moved a lot.  They began life in Pontus, a region along the Black Sea.  When I mentioned this in class, one especially industrious lady checked the longitudes and latitudes and discovered that Pontus lay along the same latitudes as our state of Maine!  I am sure they saw snow in the winter, something we rarely associate with Bible lands.  Somehow they made it to Rome, but were expelled with all the other Jews by Claudius.  They then traveled to Corinth where Paul found them, but when he left 18 months later, they went with him to Ephesus.  He left them there as he continued his journey but came across them once again back in Rome sometime after the death of Claudius (AD 54).  Once again, the church is meeting in their home (Rom 16:3-5).  I knew a family who hosted the church in their home, twice on Sundays and once on Wednesday evenings week after week after week.  That meant keeping the house up constantly, no letdowns when times got busy and life distracting.  No one expected perfection, but there had to be ample places to sit in a configuration for teaching.  Eventually they even built a room on the back of their home at their own expense.  Aquila and Priscilla at work for the Lord's body in a different generation.
            And just like Lydia, Aquila and Priscilla sacrificed their security.  …Who for my life laid down their own necks…Rom 16:4.  We do not know exactly what they did for Paul, but he considered them life savers in such a way that they could have lost their own.  Priscilla did not hide behind her husband's robes.  Evidently, she put herself forward for Paul's sake every bit as much as he did, a truly brave woman.
            These early Christians we know so little about can easily put us to shame.  Here we are complaining about hot (or cold) auditoriums, hard pews, and boring preachers while they lived in so much less wealth and comfort and were willing to give up their things, their homes, their identities, even their lives for the cause of the Lord.
            And we have even more of them to study…
 
Hereby know we love, because he laid down his life for us: and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren (1John 3:16).
 
Dene Ward
 

I received this book as a gift and when I saw the author's name I was so excited that I read it immediately.  Brother Hall is a virtual legend and anything he writes is worth reading.
            First, recognize that this was written as a tribute to his late wife Caneta, "mother of five and wife of 69 years."  That makes everything in it that much more poignant.
            Second, I believe that this should be approached as a classbook.  Brother Hall has added discussion questions after each of the thirteen lessons (see? a teaching quarter) that could keep a class going far more than the requisite 45 minutes most allow and well into the hour that ladies' classes on weekdays usually allot. 
            Third, it is not just a young mothers' book.  Any mother or grandmother can gain from it, as well as others who serve as mentors and counselors for the women who approach them for advice.  We are all mothers our whole lives if we are willing to serve that way.
            The book also contains two appendices.  The first one, written by a teenager (I assume) about how she values her virginity, should be required reading for every teenage Christian, male or female.  Whoever and wherever this young woman is (brother Hall could not find her), she deserves our thanks for her frank and touching essay.
            As I first read through the table of contents on this book I was amazed.  I knew that we have a fair amount of material about Mary, including some logical inferences we can make, but I would have been hard-pressed to come up with 13 lessons.  Brother Hall in his vast experience and knowledge of the scriptures has done far more than I would have thought possible.
            Mary, Model of Motherhood was published by Mount Bethel Publishing.
 
Dene Ward

My class has spent several weeks on some women in the New Testament whose lives barely cover three or four verses.  But the number and depth of the lessons these women have taught us is staggering.
            Can we start with Lydia?  Evidently, Lydia was a believer in God, but a Gentile.  Paul encountered her in Philippi, down by the river where several other women like her met together on the Sabbath.  So what, one may ask.  First this, Lydia was not from Philippi, she was from Thyatira.  For some reason or other she had relocated and set up shop.  That involves a whole lot more than you might think.  According to Everett Ferguson in Backgrounds of Early Christianity, that meant she had to go through the same red tape we would have to today, first joining a guild of dyers and second, applying for permits and probably paying a fee to set up her business in the agora.  And that means she must have been a successful businesswoman if she was able to do all that.
            Yet, she is also a believer in God somehow.  Whether she encountered the teaching in her hometown or in Philippi we don't know.  But we do know that she knew enough to worship on the Sabbath and cared enough to find a community of believers (since there was evidently no synagogue) and meet with them.  The first lesson she teaches us is to always travel with the Lord.  She didn't leave him behind and she never "went on vacation" from Him.  Perhaps those other women were all like her—Gentile believers, another thing we don't know.  But we do know that she accepted the gospel and became part of the fledgling church in that town.  Even Jews learned in the Scriptures had a hard time doing that, and so her open-mindedness is another lesson.
            And here may be her biggest lesson of all.  Immediately after her baptism, she looked at Paul and Silas and said, "If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come to my house and stay.” And she prevailed upon us  (Acts 16:15).  When Paul taught her the gospel, he taught her that it was not about what she could get out of it; it was about following a suffering servant by serving others, and she did so, insisting she be allowed to, immediately.  I have actually heard Christians tell elders exactly what they expected from the church now that they were members.  Others may not say it, but certainly act like it.  Lydia knew better.  She was so grateful for her salvation that she couldn't wait to give something back, even knowing it would never actually repay the bill.
            So she took Paul and Silas into her home, and here we see another lesson.  She may have known these two men, but did her neighbors?  More important, did her customer base?  All they knew were two rabble rousing jailbirds, but Lydia had no qualms about taking them in or the effect it might have had on her reputation or business.  This was how she helped spread a gospel that had saved her, and she was ready to sacrifice whatever necessary.
            All those lessons from the three verses that mention her name, Acts 16:14,15,40.  Lydia was truly a remarkable woman, one who deserves far more notice than she is usually given.  If we learn her lessons, we can be too.
 
But it shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:43-45).
 
Dene Ward

The Battle of Springfield, during the American Revolution, was fought on June 23, 1780, in Essex County, New Jersey.  Though not completely documented, it is widely believed that George Washington, the Commander of the Continental Army, slept at the Timothy Ball home during that battle, as well as on other occasions.  Since he was considered a fugitive who, had he been captured by the British, would have been hung for treason, he was careful about writing down exactly where he stayed.  Yet the rumor persists that he not only stayed at that house, but to keep his horse from being seen outside by enemy spies, he actually kept it in the home's kitchen! 
            The Bible tells us of another person who opened her home to an important man.  And it fell on a day that Elisha passed to Shunem where was a great woman, 2 Kings 4:8.
            Shunem was a town in the tribal lands of Issachar, three and a half miles north of Jezreel, the home of the summer palace for the kings of Israel.  If you have a newer translation, you already know that, at least in this passage, “great” means “wealthy.”  Yet this woman was great in our own vernacular as well.
            The very fact that she recognized Elisha as a man of God and wanted to help him was amazing in itself.  Israel was headed headlong into rampant idolatry and immorality.  Jehoram reigned, a son of Ahab, a king of whom the scriptures say, and he did that which was evil in the sight of the Lord.  Although he put away Ahab’s pillar to Baal, nevertheless he clung to the sin of Jeroboam the son of Nebat which he made Israel to sin; he did not depart from it (3:2,3).
            This woman, in the midst of an apostate people, managed to remain faithful to Jehovah, to recognize his servant and to offer him a permanent room on his journeys.  This was not a spare room in the house, but one she added, increasing the expense of it.  It began with her invitation to a meal, then another, and another any time he passed by.  He couldn’t offer her a schedule or phone ahead.  The terms were always “whenever.”  Thus it began and grew to the greater commitment of a furnished room.
            Unlike so many other examples of Biblical hospitality, she was the instigator, not her husband, and she did it without looking for a return.  Indeed, when a thank you gift was offered, she was surprised.  I dwell among my own people, she said, indicating she did not think herself special or worthy at all.  This utter humility of a wealthy person is amazing when you see the opposite in so many today.  And how many of us would be expecting not only a hostess gift, but the singing of our praises to others as well?  She seemed to view Elisha as the worthy one, not herself.
            Truly, her greatness was about her faith.  She served Elisha, not to gain glory but because he was “a man of God.”  She recognized that wealth was to be used in service to God not to self.
            Several years later Elisha did her a great favor, warning her of a coming famine.  Arise and depart with your household and sojourn wherever you can, he told her.  It will come upon the land for seven years (8:1).
            How many of us would have the faith to leave everything at one word, not knowing whether we would ever get it all back?  Wealth was measured in belongings in those days, land and crops and flocks and herds, not in bank accounts, investments, and stock portfolios.  She could take none of it with her.  When she left, she virtually impoverished herself.  Would we do the same, or does it all mean just a little too much to us?
            God in his providence took care of this faithful woman.  When she returned to the land seven years later and made petition to the country’s wicked king, Elisha’s old dishonored servant Gehazi “just happened” to be there, entertaining the king with stories about his days with the old prophet.
            “Why look here!” he told the king.  “This is the woman I told you about,” and being in a generous frame of mind, the king restored her land along with all the produce of the fields from the day she left till now (8:3-6).
            That “great” woman had no idea she would get it all back.  Elisha had never promised her anything except her life and her family’s lives if she left.  But she was so “great”—wealthy—in faith that God chose to reward her.
            Don’t make any mistake about it.  We fit the bill; we are the wealthy ones the scriptures talk about.  How is our faith these days?  Is it “great” or impoverished?  Are we rich toward the world or “rich toward God” (Luke 12:21)?  We show the answer by how we use our monetary wealth.  We show it by how we expect to be treated by others who are less fortunate.  We show it by the importance we place on it.
            Timothy Ball was willing to house a man important in only worldly terms.  But how would we measure up against this “great” woman who understood the spiritual far better than we sometimes do?
 
As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty, nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life. 1 Tim 6:17-19
 
Dene Ward
 

Truly, I say to you, among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist. Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. (Matt 11:11)
 
            Did you ever stop and think about that statement?  This is John, the blood cousin of Jesus, we are talking about.  John, the great preacher who gave up any semblance of a "normal" life--family, a comfortable home, a business, even the standard fare of the day that most of his Jewish friends and family enjoyed—all for the sake of his mission as the Forerunner of the Messiah.  John, the brave martyr who dared speak against an evil and sinful woman and her weak and ignominious husband.  Yet the least in the kingdom is greater than he?
            I am not going to define either "the least" or "the kingdom" in any sort of theological way.  I am sure great scholars could write pages about it, but I am not sure it would do me the same amount of good as simply considering these phrases at face value.  Are you in the kingdom of his Son?  I am, or so I claim.  I certainly do not claim to be the greatest.  I am much closer to the least, but greater than John?  I would never in a million years claim it, yet both Matthew and Luke record Jesus saying it.  It must be true in some way.
            I don't know about you, but that statement does not make me puff out my chest in pride.  Instead, it makes me hang my head in shame.  I have never lived up to John's example and I probably never will.  But when I think of what Jesus says here, it certainly makes me want to try harder.
            How about you?

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, knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot. (1Pet 1:17-19)
 
Dene Ward

As much time as I have spent in doctor's offices the past twenty years, I have learned a thing or two as we patients compare notes and experiences.  I have learned to trust my doctors simply because I had no choice.  Some of my conditions are so rare that I cannot even find them online to do any research to speak of, and that also means that few of us rare patients find ourselves in the same location at the same time—we are simply too scarce.  One scary thing I have learned is that doctors are not perfect, especially in the realm of the rare.  One just has to deal with it.  But so far, no one has made the wrong diagnosis, which in many cases could be catastrophic.  When you are treating the wrong ailment, the real one could be making advances that can never be undone.
            I thought of this while I was studying Mary and Martha recently.  I know, that probably leaves you scratching your head and saying, "What in the world…?"  What can I say?  My mind works in peculiar ways, especially when it is encumbered with impending medical tests, classes to be taught, and company coming all at the same time.
            So here are my crazy thoughts, in case you are interested.  Everyone, and by that I mean for the most part, anyone who stands in a pulpit and teaches that story in Luke 10, will diagnose Martha as "unspiritual."  I happened to be charting out the death of Lazarus in John 11 and was startled by what I believe the doctors might call "contraindications."  Look at the things she says to Jesus:
            Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you (John 11:21-22).  May I suggest that you go look at verse 32?  Mary said exactly the same thing—at least the first part.  The last part ("but even now…") was Martha's and Martha's only.  What did she have in mind?  A raising, perhaps?  After all, Jesus had raised two from the dead previously, the son of the widow of Nain and Jairus's daughter.  But then, this one was a bit different.  The others were either immediate or, per Jewish custom, on the same day as the death.  So maybe she wasn't quite sure, but I believe it must have crossed her mind.
            Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day (John 11:24).  This one shows her knowledge of scripture.  Even today many doubt that the Jews under the Old Law had any concept of life after death or Heaven.  How that is, I do not know.  Do you know the end of the Psalm 23?  And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.  Then we have this:  But as for me I know that my Redeemer lives, And at last he will stand up upon the earth: And after my skin, even this body, is destroyed, Then without my flesh shall I see God; Whom I, even I, shall see, on my side, And my eyes shall behold, and not as a stranger… (Job 19:25-27).  Martha obviously knew those verses, and that's not the half of it.
            She said to him, Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world (John 11:27).  What had Jesus been trying without much success to do for about three years at that point?  Prove he was the Messiah.  Martha got it, even when the most "religious" and "spiritual" among that generation did not.  I dare anyone to look at this conversation with her Lord and tell me seriously that she was not a spiritual person.
            Yes, Martha had a problem, but it was not what everyone says it was.  If you notice the first incident in Luke 10, Jesus did not rebuke her until she complained about her sister.  Then in the last incident recorded about this remarkable woman in John 12, what is she doing?  "…and Martha served…" John 12:2.  There she is again, doing exactly what she was doing in Luke 10 except for one thing—she was not complaining about her sister, who was once again at Jesus's feet, this time anointing both his head and his feet (check Matthew 26).  Martha had the same problem that a lot of strong spiritually-minded people have—she looked down on others who did not serve in the same way she did. 
            Paul takes on this attitude in the famous Romans 14 controversy and quashes both sides with this statement:  Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls…(Rom 14:4).  It wasn't Martha's business to decide what Mary needed to be doing.  It isn't my business to look across the building on Sunday morning and decide that since someone isn't doing the same sort of serving I am doing, then they are wrong and need to get up and help me.  For one thing, none of us really knows how much another is doing, and sometimes the things others do would have never crossed my mind to do.  We are all different people with different abilities and different offerings to make to the Lord.
            Let's not misdiagnose Martha.  She was indeed a spiritual woman.  She knew her scripture even though as a girl she would not have been sent to the synagogue schools beyond age 12, if that far.  (My sources vary on this.)  She learned it at home from her parents, at the synagogue on the Sabbath where the Scripture was read, and for those years she followed Jesus.  But Martha was impatient and, perhaps, judgmental.  With the Lord's help, she dealt with those things and seems to have conquered them for he did not rebuke her at the second occasion.  Do you suppose we could do the same?
 
There is only one lawgiver and judge, he who is able to save and to destroy. But who are you to judge your neighbor? Jas 4:12).
 
Dene Ward
 

The Lord has made everything for his own purpose, yes, even the wicked for the day of trouble, Prov 16:4.
            Think about that for awhile.  If I do not allow the Lord to use me for good, he will use me for evil instead.  I cannot refuse to be used; it’s one or the other.
            A long time ago I studied as many women in the Bible as I could find and tried to discover how they fit into the scheme of redemption.  I managed to find a use for every one of them.  Then I came to Jezebel and found myself stymied.  The only thing I could think was God used her to test his prophet Elijah, and to eventually send him back to his work in Israel with a renewed spirit. 
            I would hate to think that the only use God could find for me was as a thorn in the flesh of his righteous people, testing their faith.  So how do I avoid that?
            As in the case of Elijah, discouragement can hamper the work of God.  After what seemed like an amazing victory on Mt Carmel, Elijah awoke the next morning to find that Jezebel was still in charge and his life was still in danger.  Now Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had slain all the prophets with the sword.  Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah saying, So let the gods do to me, and more also if I make not your life as the life of one of them by tomorrow about this time.  And when Elijah saw this, he fled, 1 Kings 19:1-3.  What a let-down that must have been.  If that great victory had not changed things, what could?
            So Elijah ran away to the wilderness where he rested, where an angel fed him, and where God proved to him that Jezebel was not the one in charge, and there were still righteous people to stand with him.
            Am I just another Jezebel, discouraging God’s people in their mission?  Do I have a chip on my shoulder that makes me easily offended?  Do I sit like a spectator on the bleachers, watching and waiting for the least little thing, quick to complain, unashamed to make a scene, ready to pass judgment on every word and action, and worse, spread that slander to others?  Do I march up to the elders, the preacher, the class teachers as if they had to answer to me for anything I find disagreeable, which can be anything and everything, depending upon my mood at the moment?  (Yes, I have known people exactly like this.)
            What purpose do I think that serves other than to try the patience, faith, and endurance of those who must put up with my spitefulness?  Why do I think that kind of behavior will help anyone?  Would I accept it from anyone toward me? 
            Every church I have ever been a part of has one of these thorns hidden among them.  Don’t let it be you.  Remember today that God is using you.  Make sure that everything you do and say will in some way help His plan to save the world.  Your brothers and sisters need your encouragement.  Your neighbors need your example of love and service.  That is what God expects of you—to choose to be a rose instead of a thorn.
 
A fool shows his annoyance at once, but a prudent man overlooks an insult.  There is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing, Prov 12:16,18. 
 
Dene Ward

Did you know there are six Marys in the New Testament?  First, of course, is Jesus' mother.  Then Mary Magdalene (from Magdala), plus the mother of James the Less who was also the wife of Cleopas, the sister of Martha, the mother of John Mark, and finally, the Mary who lived in Rome (Rom 16:6).  As it turns out, Mary was one of the more popular names given to little girls in Palestine in the first century.  (For boys, the most popular was Simon and there are 9 of them in the New Testament!)
            And why was Mary so popular?  It helps if you know the Hebrew equivalent of some of these names.  Mary in the Old Testament was Miriam.  Of course it would be a popular name among women and girls especially.  But I must confess, even when I found out that the two names were the same, my first thought was, "Why her?  She fell and fell with a bang!"
            But isn't that what our culture does?  We remember the failures forever.  No matter how good a person might have been both before and after, we focus on the mistakes they made.  We always say, "Yes, but—"
            Aren't you glad God doesn't do that?  David was always described as "a man after God's own heart."  Peter, who denied Jesus, was allowed to preach the first gospel sermon to both Jews and Gentiles, and serve as an elder in the church (1 Pet 5:1).  And Miriam?  After she was punished, she came back and evidently did her job quietly and well.  Hundreds of years later God remembered her through the prophet Micah like this:  For I brought you up from the land of Egypt and redeemed you from the house of slavery, and I sent before you Moses, Aaron, and Miriam (Mic 6:4).  No "yes buts" with God.
            Isn't that comforting?  And shouldn't we say, "Shame on us," when we do not give that same consideration to a brother or sister?  Shouldn't we be focusing on the good in people instead of constantly looking for and remembering the bad?  Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things (1Cor 13:7).
            Let's try today to remember the good that people have done, even the ones you are not particularly fond of, or have had issues with.  If they sit next to you on the pew, chances are high that there is something good there if you will only take the time to actually look for it.  And wouldn't you like it if that person did the same for you?
 
Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins (1Pet 4:8).
 
Dene Ward