Lines of wooden tables covered with red checked cloths, yellowed cotton cloths, handmade crocheted cloths, loaded till sagging, every square inch laden with stoneware bowls full of red potato salad, yellow with mustard, and studded with chopped celery, sweet pickle nuggets, and chunks of hard-boiled egg; bright orange carrot salad polka-dotted with black raisins; clear glass bowls of layered salads, various shades of green, orange, white, and yellow; finely chopped slaws, pale green with orange and purple flecks and dressed in a white dressing or a sweet vinegar; chipped china platters of golden-eyed deviled eggs, some bloodshot with paprika; luscious pink ham slices, and piles of fried chicken covered with a homemade breading redolent with spices and herbs, the chicken itself tangy and moist from a buttermilk brine; club aluminum Dutch ovens filled with pole beans, green beans, speckled butterbeans, and white acres, mustard, turnip and collard greens, all sporting a sheen of bacon drippings and shreds of pork; cast iron pots of bubbling baked beans spiked with molasses and the contents of every bottle in the refrigerator; others loaded with fall apart pot roast, pork roast, or chicken and bright yellow rice; others still steaming with chicken and slicker style dumplings; spoons sticking up akimbo from mason jars full of the jewel colors of various pickles, everything from deep red to chartreuse to layers of emerald green, canary yellow, and white; baskets of fluffy, tan buttermilk biscuits, soft yeast rolls, and black skillets of cornbread wedges; pies billowing with meringue, dense with pecans, or fruit bubbling from a vented golden crust; moist cake layers enrobed in swirls of chocolate or cream cheese or clouds of seven minute frosting, some cloaked in coconut, others with nuts peeking out from the coating—none of them exactly perfect because everything is homemade.

That’s what potluck was like when I was a child.  It was far superior to today’s offerings, at least half of which are purchased on the way—fold-up boxes of fried chicken and take-out pizza, plastic containers of salads and slaw, and bakery boxes of cakes and pies, all entirely too perfect to be made from scratch.  Is it any wonder that everyone rushes for the obviously homemade goodies and even snatches slices of cake early, before going through the regular line, and hides them for a later dessert?

Potluck originally referred to feeding drop-in guests or folks passing through who needed a meal whatever was in the pot that evening.  Drop-ins were not considered rude in those days.  I remember my parents thoroughly enjoying the evenings when someone just happened to stop by.  We didn’t load our lives down with extra-curricular activities back then--people were the activities.

Potluck eventually came to mean “You bring what you have and I’ll bring what I have and we’ll eat together.”  It didn’t really involve any extra work—that was the point.  When no one has enough of one thing but you pool it together, there is plenty for everyone, and plenty of time left to visit.

We often speak of “feasting on the word of God.”  I wonder what would happen if we had a potluck?  What would I have to offer?  Anything at all?  Do I spend enough time in the word of God to have thoughts on it readily at hand?  Most of us are too embarrassed to show up at a real potluck with nothing in our hands, but think nothing of showing up to a Bible study with nothing to share.

Would my spiritual table be loaded down with good food or store-bought, processed, preservative-laden grub because I had no time left in my day to cook something up?  Would my offering be fresh and nutritious or calorie-laden and fatty?  Would it be a gracious plenty mounded high in the bowl or spooned into a plastic cup barely big enough to feed one?  Would it be piping hot or lukewarm?  Would people go away satisfied or determined to avoid my table at all costs in the future?

Think about it tonight when you look at the meal you feed your family. What’s in that spiritual pot of yours should someone happen by?  Would they be lucky or not? 

Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live; and I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love for David, Isaiah 55:1-3.

Dene Ward

            
     What you don’t know won’t hurt you. 
             
     I didn’t know that Keith had taken Chloe’s food pan and set it in my
chair on the carport when he blew the dust off a few Saturdays ago.  He didn’t notice that she had left a few kibbles.  Neither one of us knew that a few fire ants had gotten in there and they had migrated out to my chair when he disturbed them.  I didn’t know they had started crawling into my clothes when I sat down  there until a few minutes after we walked back into the house. 
Suddenly I was ripping off my clothes and slapping myself.  I wound up with bites on my chest, back, arms, and legs, and a ring of  them around my neck.  I felt lousy  for a day or two, not to mention the aggravating itch.  What I didn’t know did in fact hurt me quite a bit. 
             
     That seems obvious, but sometimes we act like ignorance is a iable excuse for most anything.  And indeed, sometimes it is.  A new Christian has a lot to learn.  As long as he is studying and praying and trying as hard as he can to learn what he needs to be and do, his prayer for the grace of God will keep him safe.  I believe that with all my heart. 
             
     But when I have been a Christian for years and years and have done
nothing to learn and grow, or have simply stopped, that is inexcusable.  
              
     Learning new facts can be difficult, especially as I grow older.  Trying to see past the superficial to the amazing depth of God’s word can mean I must try to comprehend things I have never even thought of before.  Yet how many times have I heard “I never heard of such a thing” as the instant dismissal of a new thought in a Bible class? How many times have I heard people complain because a class was “too deep?” What a shameful thing for a Christian to say. 
             
     Then we get to the crux of the matter, for applying principles to my life can be as painful as a shirt full of fire ants.  Who in the world actually wants to know what they are doing wrong?  Why, I’ve been a Christian forty years; I’m not about to admit I still have weaknesses I need to confront in anything but a general way. 
             
     That is, however, exactly what God expects of us. The shame is that usually the babes in the Word are hungrier to learn and grow than we old-timers.  But we had better shape up, sooner rather than later, or ant bites will be the least of  our problems. 
 
     Hear the word of Jehovah you children of Israel, for Jehovah has a controversy with the inhabitants of the land, because there is no truth or goodness or knowledge of God in the land.  My people are  destroyed for lack of knowledge. Because you have rejected knowledge, I will reject you…Hosea 4:1,6.
 
Dene Ward

You can learn a lot about a word by looking at its Greek original, even if you aren’t a Greek scholar.  When you see that we are supposed to be “striving” for the faith (Phil 1:27), and you find out the word is sunathleo, how difficult is it to see the English word “athlete” there?  Immediately you know that striving involves hours of disciplined training, a ton of sweat, and a whole lot of determination.  How smart do you really have to be when you discover that “faith working through love” (Gal 5:6), which uses the word energeo, means that you are to work energetically, with an attitude of “do it or bust?”

So in our continuing study of faith I found this passage:  I made supplication for you that your faith fail not…Luke 22:32.  I looked up “fail” and found this Greek word, ekleipo. 

I’ll have to admit—I saw nothing at first.  Finally I looked up other uses of the word and found, just a page over in my Bible, Luke 23:45:  the sun’s light failing.  The context was the crucifixion when, according to the verse just above that one, darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour.      

“Aha!” my feeble brain said, “an eclipse,”--ekleipo.  The light of the sun failed because something overshadowed it.  Now how do I use that in my study of faith “failing?”

Eleven years ago I woke up with what I thought was an earache.  I called the doctor and he prescribed an antibiotic.  The next morning some of the ache was gone, but enough remained for me to discover the true source of the pain—it was a tooth.  I had developed an abscess and the pain had simply radiated to my ear, but the medication at least knocked it back to its original source. This time I called the dentist and left a message.  It was late on a Friday afternoon and I needed to see someone before the weekend. 

By that time, nearly 48 hours into this, I was moaning on the couch, totally unable to function.  I hadn’t even thought about dinner, much less started cooking it, even though I expected Keith home within the hour.  I hadn’t finished putting the clean sheets on the bed, or washed any dishes all day long.  I hadn’t accomplished any bookkeeping, or filled out the forms that were soon due for my students to enter State Contest.  Nothing mattered but that aching tooth and the sore lump now swelling on my jaw line.

A few minutes later the phone rang, and I eagerly snatched it up, expecting a dental assistant.  It was an ex-Little League coach of my sons’.  Keith had suffered something resembling a seizure while riding his bike the thirteen miles home from work, and was lying right in front of his house, in the middle of the rural highway. 

“The ambulance just arrived,” he said.  “I think if you hurry, you can be here before it leaves.”

What do you think I did?  Lie back down and moan some more?  I was out of that house in a flash and did indeed beat the ambulance’s departure for the hospital.  That “seizure” turned out to be a stroke, and I sat in the hospital for five days afterward. 

You can think your faith is important to you.  You can think you would never let anything “eclipse” it.  You can be positive that you are strong enough to handle the most intense trial or the most powerful temptation.  You can be absolutely wrong.

I have seen men who stood for the faith against the ridicule of false teachers commit adultery.  I have seen women who diligently withstood the long trial of caring for a sick mate become bitter against everyone who ever tried to help them, and ultimately against God himself.  I have seen families who were called “pillars of the church” leave that very group when one of their own fell and was chastised. 

Look to that passage I found:  I made supplication for you that your faith fail not.  Jesus was speaking to Peter, who subsequently declared, “I am ready to go both to prison and to death,” but not many hours later, he denied the Lord when those very things confronted him.  He was not prepared, and his faith was eclipsed by fear.

Just as surely as my worry over my husband’s health totally eclipsed a very real and intense pain in my physical body, just as certainly as fear eclipsed the faith of a man like Peter, the events of life can eclipse your faith, causing it to fail.  Carnal emotions can overshadow you—lust, bitterness, resentment, hurt feelings among them.  It’s up to us to keep those things in their proper place, to allow nothing to detract from our faith in a God who promises that none of those things really matter because of the spiritual nature of the life to come.  It is, in fact, up to us to be spiritually minded, instead of carnally minded, to put the physical in the shade and let the light of the Truth shine on the spiritual.

With a spiritual mind-set, nothing can eclipse your faith.  Your faith should, in fact, eclipse everything else.

 If then you were raised together with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated on the right hand of God. Set your mind on the things that are above, not on the things that are upon the earth. For you died, and your life is hid with Christ in God, Colossians 3:1-3.

Dene Ward

I can remember my daddy uttering those very words every time we pulled up to what was then called a “service station,” a glassed-in office with two service bays and usually two gas islands, sporting regular, premium and mid-grade pumps, the older models rounded on the top and the newer ones square-cornered and squat.  An attendant came out of one of the bays, called to us by the double-ding of the bell hoses we ran over with both front and rear tires, usually wiping his hands with a greasy blue rag, and did the honors while we sat in the car waiting.  He also checked the water in the radiator and battery, and cleaned the windshields.  When the pump kicked off, he carefully finished filling the tank and then bent his head to the open window to tell us the amount we owed.  If we paid cash, he brought back change.  If we used our gas company credit card, he took it and ran it, bringing back a dark blue clipboard with slip attached and a pen for a signature.

We never left the car, never lifted a finger.  It was all done for us.  Maybe that’s why we seem to expect God to “fill ‘er up” without having to make any effort at all ourselves.  Maybe that’s what we’re thinking when we sit in our pews on Sunday morning—we’re expecting the teachers, songleaders, and preachers to “fill ‘her up.” 

“I didn’t get anything out of services this morning,” we say, as if that were the only purpose to our being there, to allow others to wait on us just like an attendant at an old-fashioned service station; as if that were the only possible way to fill oneself up spiritually.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled, Matt 5:6.  Do we really think that righteousness can be poured in like gasoline, that we can sit passively while it happens?

John tells us, Whoever practices righteousness is righteous, 1 John 3:7.  Being filled with righteousness has far more to do with what I do anywhere else besides a church building than it does with listening to a sermon and expecting to walk away holy because of it.

God also expects us to fill ourselves with knowledge.  Anyone who thinks that comes from osmosis on Sunday mornings as we doze in our pews or play with the babies in front of us had better not apply for a school teaching job any time soon. You won’t keep it long.

Paul says, And so, from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God, Colossians 1:9-10.  Becoming knowledgeable takes work far above and beyond listening to a couple hours a week of sermons and Bible classes.  Making it stick means applying what you learn, “bearing fruit” as you put that knowledge into practice.

But others have the problem of which tank to use.  They seem satisfied with “regular.”  My daddy worked for Gulf Oil so we always went to Gulf stations.  “Regular” was called “Good Gulf” and premium was called “Gulftane,” a play on the fact that the octane was higher.  A soul created in the image of God requires nothing less than premium.

I read a book once in which the writer was at a loss to know how to refill herself after giving so much to marriage, children, and society.  Her problem was thinking she could do it herself, with things that have no eternal existence and purpose.  She was trying to fill up on “regular.”   Christians know better.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope, Romans 15:13.

“Fill ‘er up,” we used to say to the gas attendant.  Far more important, we should say it to God, and then do our part as He fills us to the brim.  It’s the only way to keep your life from running on empty.

And it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God, Philippians 1:9-11.

Dene Ward

            
Quite a few of you are probably scratching your heads and saying, “There is something not quite right about that quote.”  Look at good old Col 3:16 and many versions have …teaching and admonishing one another in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs.  
 
I was doing a study of all the “one another” passages recently, and discovered, to my great surprise, that this passage is NOT a “one another” passage.  All those other passages, like greet one another, 1 Cor 16:20;   confess your faults to one another, James 5:16; and love one another, 1 John 3:23, use a completely different Greek word from this one in Colossians.  
 
The word here is simply a pronoun, in this instance much better translated “yourselves.” The other word involves reciprocal action—both parties greeting, confessing, loving or whatever else in all the passages where it is used.  The pronoun in Colossians does not.  In fact, in many cases it is a singular pronoun, herself, himself, itself, yourself. If any would follow me let him deny himself, Mark 8:34; let man examine himself, 1 Cor 11:28; he
humbled himself and became obedient, Phil 2:8.  If you check those out, you will see that reciprocal action is not a necessary element of that pronoun.  In fact, as a scholarly brother recently pointed out in one of our Bible classes, the assembly of the church is nowhere in sight in the context of Colossians 3:16 so there can be no thought of reciprocation. All of this applies to Ephesians 5:19 as well.  Same word, same type of context.
             
So that’s interesting, and something you might not have ever realized before.  What of it? Just this—we have so often pigeonholed certain acts into the assembly that we may have missed out on one of God’s greatest teaching devices.  I am supposed to be teaching and admonishing myself, day in and day out, by singing.  Think for a minute:  how did you learn your alphabet?  Is there anyone out there who did not sing those letters to the tune of “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star?”  How did you learn the books of the Bible, the twelve apostles, the twelve sons of Jacob? (Shhh!  Don’t tell, but if I want to get those twelve sons in birth order and make sure I do not leave someone out, I still have to sing that song!)
             
God knew a long time before modern educational theory and saturday  morning Schoolhouse Rock that you can learn by singing. Not only can it help you memorize a list or a scripture, but a song can get you safely through a temptation. It can cheer up a depressed moment.  It can make you realize exactly how blessed you are. Some of those words we sing can even shame us into better behavior.  
 
It isn’t just that we are allowed to sing in places other than the assembly.  It is
that we are told to. Paul, the writer of Colossians, followed his own instructions.  What did he and Silas do while languishing in stocks in a Philippian prison, not sure what the next day might hold?  They prayed and sang hymns to God. So turn off that radio, get that iPod out of your ears, unless of course, you have chosen spiritual songs to listen to and sing with all day. Teach and admonish yourself in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. Don’t lose out on the hours of teaching that God intended us all to have.
 
Let my lips utter praise, for you teach me your statutes. Let my tongue sing of your word, for all your commandments are righteousness, Psa 119:171,172.

Dene Ward

 Today's post by guest writer Lucas Ward
           
For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the vain glory of life, is not of the father, but is of the world, 1 John 2:16.
             
Most of your modern translations have "pride of life" as the third aspect of temptation, and that is a good translation, but this is one of those cases where the older English usage might be better. Pride is one thing. We all know that we should humble ourselves before God.  So we see "pride of life," nod, and move on. But "vain glory of life" gives us the chance to understand this passage in a deeper way. 
             
The context of this passage is loving the world rather than God and the
futility of such action. Verse 17 compares the temporal nature of the world and its desires with the follower of God who abides forever. So that leads us to compare the vain glory of life with the eternal glory promised by God.
           
People can win glory and honor in this world. People work very hard for status, prestige, and power. They are held up as models for us all. We marvel at what they have accomplished, whether it be in business, politics or sports. But does that glory last? 
             
If the election for President George H.W. Bush’s second term had been held in March of 1991, he would have won in a landslide. He was riding high after having presided over the fall of communism in Eastern Europe and leading us to victory in the Gulf War. Less than two years later he lost the vote. No one cared about his accomplishments only 20 months previously. Instead it was
about "the economy, stupid." 
             
Every year, the professional sports leagues crown champions who are
lauded to high heaven for their skill, teamwork, and dedication to their craft.
Six months later, that is all past and they start the new season 0-0 just like
the cellar dwellers of the previous year. Championship winning coaches are
sometimes fired just a few years after winning it all, because they couldn't
keep hold of that "vain glory". Even the players are not allowed to rest on
their laurels but the sportswriters wonder if they can maintain that level of
greatness for any length of time.
           
"Vain" means empty or worthless. That pretty well describes all the glory we can achieve here in this life: empty. It doesn't last. Compare that with the
glory we can receive from God. Eternal glory, that never fades, greater than
anything we can imagine. Rom. 8:18 speaks of the eternal glory worth far more than the persecutions we may suffer. In other places we read of crowns, shining garments, and thrones right next to God's own throne. Search for glory" in the New Testament. What we are promised if we love God and follow Him is so much greater than the best anyone could achieve here. 
             
As we struggle for success in our chosen fields and careers, let us remember where the real glory lies and love God rather than the vain glory of this world. It is far better to be an unnoticed nobody in this life and reign with the Father in the next, than to achieve glory that would make Alexander's pale in comparison, yet have our Lord say "I know ye not." 
  
Thus says Jehovah, Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory in his might, let not the rich man glory in his riches; but let him who glories glory in this, that he has understanding, and knows me, that I am Jehovah who exercises lovingkindness, justice, and righteousness, in the earth: for in these things I delight, says Jehovah, Jeremiah 9:23-24.

 Lucas Ward

Before one of the surgeries, Keith built a bird feeder outside the window next to my favorite chair--a metal trough about five feet long on a wooden frame. I must admit I have enjoyed this thing a whole lot more than I expected to. We keep it filled with birdseed and Keith hung a cylinder of suet over it as well. 

First the cardinal couple came to dine. They spend their time in the trough with the seed. The suet is not their cup of tea, so to speak, but several others seem to prefer it  A hummingbird came and hovered next to it, trying his best to figure out how to get the nectar out of it, but finally gave up and flew back to the hummingbird feeder on the other side of the house.

Then the catbird came calling. He stood under it, with the bottom of it just out of reach. First, he tried the hummingbird’s trick, but a catbird cannot hover, he quickly found out as he fell with a splat into the trough. Then he started jumping up and down, trying to peck when he reached the height of his jump, once again falling into the trough, this time nearly doing a backward somersault. Poor bird, I hope he didn’t hear me laughing at him, but you never think about a bird being so awkward as to fall on his backside. Maybe he did hear me, because he left and did not come back for a long time.

The next morning I looked out and a wren had landed on top of the hanging suet and calmly leaned down, pecking away. Every so often he looked around as if to say, “See? This isn’t so hard.” After a few days he had pecked away most of his sure-footing. The top of the suet was no longer flat, so gradually one foot would slide down and hang onto the side. Every morning he pecked away until finally there was no room at all on the top and both feet clung to the side of the suet. Then came the day he got a little too self-confident. I looked out and he was hanging upside down from the bottom of the suet. His little feet curled in tightly and deeply and he seemed to have a good hold, but he had not reckoned with his desire to eat. He pecked so hard that he pushed himself off the suet and he, too, landed on his back in the trough. Was he embarrassed? No way. He just hopped back up on the side and kept pecking. There are things more important than saving face.

Along came a little gray titmouse with his gray crest, big ringed eye, and the slimmest breast I had ever seen on a bird. He too, figured out how to land on the suet, hang on, and peck. Then one morning the suet cylinder fell and lay across the trough. Here comes the catbird ready for an easy meal. The titmouse arrived shortly after and must have known something about catbirds. He sat in the azalea and squealed ferociously until he finally scared the catbird away. As soon as the titmouse had eaten and left, the big coward came back, but not long afterward the cardinal couple flew at him and off he went again.

All of this makes me think about our efforts to feast on the bread of life. Do we mind looking a little foolish sometimes in our eagerness to learn and grow spiritually? Do we give up after one or two tries if things are more difficult than we expected? Are we too frightened to admit we live on the Word of God—afraid we won’t be accepted by our peers, afraid we will be ridiculed, afraid no one will like us any more, afraid it may cost us socially, economically, or maybe some day, even physically?

The little birds at my feeder teach me profound lessons every day. Sometimes I need a prod to be more like the feisty little titmouse or the ingenious little wren who couldn’t care less how his hunger for suet makes him look. Sometimes I need to be reminded that there are more important things than what everyone thinks about me, and that fear of others can make you look the most ridiculous of all. Indeed, if a tiny little titmouse can scare away a big old catbird all by himself, why can’t I make Satan’s minions run away, especially with all the Help I have at hand?

As newborn babes long for the spiritual milk which is without guile, that you may grow thereby unto salvation, 1 Pet 2:2.

Dene Ward

It is easy to write a rant when you are upset about something, or feel an injustice has been done.  Maybe that is why this is coming so easily to me.  I have heard too many people denigrate women’s Bible studies, disregard them as something “sweet” or even “cute,” as in, “Isn’t that cute?” when we see children mimicking adult behaviors.  And I have seen good ones branded with the failures of bad ones, judged so because somewhere some other group of women gave all women’s classes the bad reputation of gossiping hen parties.  My sisters at the Glen Springs Road congregation of the Lord’s people put the lie to that notion.

We have been meeting for over twenty years now.  What do we study?  We study the Word of God.  Even when we use a study guide of some sort, it is one that always directs us to the Word.  Maybe three times in twenty years we have used a book that had opinions and commentary in it, and all three times we had no problem at all pointing to our Bibles and saying, “Well, the author got that one wrong.”  What we have NOT used is what Mama believed, what we’ve always heard, and “what we feel comfortable with.”

We have become a close knit group.  We have a rule:  what happens in class, stays in class.  That means we can open up with private problems and expect confidentiality.  It means we can ask questions that would have been embarrassing in a mixed class.  It means we can ask why and not be immediately accused of heresy.  It means we can comment and the comment will be treated seriously, instead of being passed off by a male teacher who was too busy looking ahead in his notes because a woman was speaking and he figured it wouldn’t be worth much anyway.

We love.  If anyone needs help on a given day, we give it.  We support, encourage, enlighten, and correct, even if it takes half the class.  On occasion we have met in hospital rooms.  Other times we have met at the home of a sister in need and spent a couple of hours serving instead of studying.  Many hands can accomplish much, and isn’t doing the point of learning?

We begin every class discussing others—not a gossip fest, but a list of who needs help—food, housework, transportation; who needs prayers, who needs a pat on the back or a visit.  We all share whatever information we have and then pray some of the most heartfelt prayers you will ever hope to hear.  We go through more Kleenexes than a community with a flu epidemic.  Then we go out and put the feet to those prayers.

And we study.  Really study. And discuss.  Really discuss.  And learn.  Really learn.  I have seen light bulbs go off in faces over and over.  Every woman there has changed her mind about something major simply because a moment arose when she said, “I never thought of it that way before.”  And ultimately, lives have changed.  I have seen all of these women grow in the past twenty years to become the kind of women you would hope you could be some day, the kind we often remember long after they are gone because of the example they set and the wisdom they shared.

It’s catching.  Another group began on Sunday afternoons about nine years ago—once a month for two hours, following a shared lunch.  It has blossomed in the same way, and I cannot see it stopping any time soon.

And so I praise my sisters, just as Paul so often praised his brothers and sisters at the end of his epistles.  They have taught me every bit as much as I have taught them.  I often go home with new ideas to think about from simple comments they share.  I challenge you to make your women’s Bible classes every bit as praiseworthy.

And I look forward some day to a huge gathering of sisters from all places and all times, but essentially the same women I have met with all these years—faithful, devout, humble, and good—women of God who will worship Him together forever.

Many daughters have done worthily, But you excel them all. Grace is deceitful, and beauty is vain; But a woman who fears Jehovah, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands; And let her works praise her in the gates. Proverbs 31:29-31

Dene Ward

Accepting new truths can be difficult sometimes.  Especially if I learned it from “good old brother So-and-So” or my parents, it becomes nearly impossible to think they might have been wrong about anything.  Or, irrationally, I might think that accepting something different from what they believed makes them wrong, but not accepting it somehow keeps them right.  When I hear others refusing clear truth for these reasons, I wonder if they do not realize what they are saying about their mentors or their parents.  Surely they believe these people had enough intellectual integrity to change their minds if someone showed them clear evidence otherwise, don’t they?  In that sense, what they are doing is no longer loyalty, but an insult.

Jesus spent an entire sermon undoing people’s misconceptions, things “they had always been taught.”  You have heard it was said…but I say unto you…peppered what we call the Sermon on the Mount.  These concepts were not foreign to the Law, as we sometimes seem to believe; it has always been wrong to lust after a woman, and it has always been wrong to verbally abuse someone, as well as the other things Jesus listed.  He was simply undoing the misinterpretations of the scribes and rabbis. They changed a guideline of the heart that should have led to sincere, overflowing service to God and mankind to nothing more than “the least I have to do mechanically to remain in good standing with God,” which many times was more burdensome than the Law itself. 

The Pharisees did not accept Jesus for exactly this reason:  he did not match the picture of the Messiah and his kingdom they had always believed in.  No matter that he quoted and explained scriptures to them, they would not listen.  What was this?  A king who was poor, who did not own property, who led no mighty army?  It did not help that Jesus’ version of the kingdom stripped them of the power they hoped to have, and the status they currently enjoyed.  A kingdom where publicans, harlots, Samaritans, and Gentiles were equal with them?  Impossible! 

Because of that bias, they refused the scriptures that were laid before them, and became more and more incensed until they were willing to commit murder to remove the teacher and the doctrine that distressed them so.  Would we have so adamantly refused the truth just because it was not “what I’ve always heard” or worse, perhaps, “not what I want to hear?”  Do we, too, have misconceptions about the King and his Kingdom?

Every time we talk to a neighbor about the gospel, we expect them to readily give up their lifelong beliefs simply because we show them a scripture.  Shouldn’t we be willing to do the same?  The next time someone comes at a scripture from a different angle than I have always heard, I need to catch myself before I instantly reject his point.  I need to listen with an open mind.  Growth implies change.  When was the last time I changed my mind about something in the scriptures?  Do I really think I know it all?  If good old brother So-and-So who taught me is half the brother he ought to be, he would be upset with me if I weren’t willing to consider a different view than his. 

And the brethren immediately sent away Paul and Silas by night to Berea, who, when they arrived, went into the synagogue of the Jews.   Now these were more noble than those in Thessalonica in that they received the word with all readiness of mind, searching the scriptures daily to see whether these things were so.  Many of them, therefore, believed… Acts 17:10-12 

Dene Ward

Several years ago, the heel of my right foot became so swollen and sore I could hardly walk, and if I banged it against anything I nearly lost my lunch.  So I needed what the podiatrist called a retrocalcanealexostectomy.  In plain English, they detached the Achilles tendon, removed a wad of extraneous tissue that my body had created to try to pillow the pain, sawed off the back of my heel, which had calcified into a walnut-sized knob, then reattached the tendon with what amounted to a “hollow wall anchor.”  It was nearly a year before I walked normally. 

When they took the cast off the right leg, the difference in the calf muscles was amazing.  Crutches for two months followed by a cane for another two or three, means no exercise, and no exercise equals atrophy.  The right calf was half the size of the left, and totally limp.  For the next four years that did not matter too much; I still had a good left leg.  Then the left foot did the same thing and here we go again—more surgery.

Now I had two wimpy calf muscles.  Guess what you need when you try to reach something on the top shelf and need to stand on your toes?  Guess what it feels like when you try to do that automatically, without thinking, with those sore heels and limp calf muscles?  Yeow!

So for the next few months I worked on getting those muscles back into shape.  The first time I tried toe raises, nothing happened!  I concentrated hard and told myself to stand on tiptoe, and still nothing happened!  So I found some exercises that I could do without trying to stand on my toes, that still made my calf muscles ache and burn.  In a few weeks I actually went up about a half inch off the floor.  Kind of hard to tell with your eyes a little over five feet higher than your feet, but I am pretty sure, based on what I could and could not reach on the top shelf.  Progress!  It wasn’t long till I could tiptoe through the tulips—if we had tulips in Florida.

So how about your spiritual muscles?  You know what?  They atrophy just like those physical muscles.  When was the last time you actually did a real Bible study on your own?  I mean work, with a pen and paper, not just reading commentaries and doing a copy and paste job on your computer.  In education classes they always told us that writing things down was a big key to information retention.  Taking notes makes you hear the words again, saying them in your head as your write; then you feel yourself forming each letter of each word, and see them again after they are written.  The more senses that are involved, the more likely you are to learn and remember. 

Of course, putting knowledge into action is what makes it worthwhile.  There is the meditation, the decision making and actual living based upon your newfound knowledge, and the teaching as you share what you learn.  The more you learn and do, the stronger you become.  Soon you will be tiptoeing through the pages of the Bible with more and more ease, more and more confidence, and more and more ability to live like God wants you to.  Pick up your Bible and exercise a little.

For when by reason of time you ought to be teachers, you have need again that someone teach you the rudiments of the first principles of the oracles of God, and have become such as those who need milk and not solid food.  For everyone who partakes of milk is without experience of the word of righteousness, for he is a baby.  But solid food is for full-grown men, those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern good and evil,   Heb 5:12-14.

Dene Ward