A few mornings back Keith and I took our last cup of coffee to the carport and sat in our nylon lounge chairs, the kind with the attached pillow you can flip over the back if you do not care to use it. We did use them, both of us, and leaned back, watching the mockingbird flit back and forth to its nest in the bloom-laden rose trellis and the hummingbirds guard their two feeders like Fort Knox. A couple of squirrels ran along the “highway,” a route they use every day from one live oak top to another, down the limbs and across the fence.  Off in the distance a hawk screamed, a rooster crowed, and a wild turkey gobbled.  Occasionally we flipped a treat out for Chloe to chase.  It was still the middle of spring, cool and bugless, humidity low for a Florida morning, low enough that the scent of jasmine reached us from the vine 75 feet down the drive. 

After twenty minutes or so, we got up to start our morning. As soon as Keith stood, a snake slithered out from under his pillow, down the back of the chair and dropped onto the carport. Our chairs are only six inches apart. If that thing had stuck its head out between us from under the pillow, judging by the roar when he saw it, Keith might have had a heart attack, and I might still be running.  Talk about “Flight Paths”—I would have made a good one.

Guess what we do every morning now?  That’s right. We flip those pillows back and look under them before we sit down.  People say habits are hard to break.  We didn’t have a bit of trouble breaking ourselves of sitting down before we looked.  Depends upon the motivation, I guess.  Maybe that’s why we have such a hard time breaking ourselves of sinful habits—we enjoy them too much, or we just don’t think they are that important.

From another perspective, we didn’t have a bit of trouble creating a new habit either.  Same reason—motivation.  I really do not want to think about a snake lying under the pillow I am leaning my head against, or the possibility of it slithering down my back, do you?

So why can’t we make new habits to rid ourselves of that besetting sin in our lives?  Can’t I learn to pray for self-control before I leave the house when I know I have trouble behind the wheel?  Can’t I learn to recite a few passages about longsuffering and kindness just before I walk into a meeting with that particularly obnoxious colleague?  Can’t I learn to avoid situations that I know will tempt me instead of purposefully putting my soul in harm’s way?  Of course I can, if I care enough, if I believe God would want me to do so, if I think of Him instead of me and my stubborn will. 

AND, if I believe that Satan is real, that he is out there trying to find a way to make me fall.  He is, you know.  He is right under that pillow, waiting for you to sit down without a care in the world and lean your vulnerable neck back into reach of his fangs.

Change a habit today.  LOOK! before you sit down.

But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires. Rom 13:14

Dene Ward

I sat by the window today and marveled at the birds that had come to my feeder—the usual cardinals, titmice and chickadees, plus two kinds of doves, a wren, four catbirds, dozens of sparrows, a small flock of brown-headed cowbirds, a painted bunting, two goldfinch couples, a few pine warblers, a yellow-rumped warbler, new to the group this year, and a hummingbird buzzing above them all at his own special watering hole.  All these on the same day and that’s not all just in the past week.  We even had a ring-nosed gull drop by yesterday.

 What may be the most satisfying is seeing those we can recognize from times past.    Remember the cardinal with the broken wing?  He kept coming back for well over a year.  It has only been the past month or so that we haven’t seen him and it may well be he has lived out his lifespan, but he lived it far longer and better for coming here to fill his plate, heal, and grow strong again. His wing was never quite straight after his mishap, but it grew plenty strong enough to fly him where he needed to go. He wasn’t the first sad and sick bird we have had.  You may remember the one-legged sparrow, and the brewer’s blackbird that was left behind when her flock flew northwest again—she was too sick to join them.

 I wonder what God sees when He looks out on His “feeder.”  We forget, I’m afraid, what our lives were like when we decided to take Him up on His offer. The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; ​to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to grant to those who mourn in Zion— to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he may be glorified (Isa 61:1-3).

It is too easy, when life has taken a good turn and we are so much healthier in spirit, to think it might possibly have been our own doing.  He is the one who comforted our mourning, who gave us a garland to replace our ashes, who took away our spirits of heaviness and gave us the oil of joy and a garment of praise (Isa 61:2,3) to replace the sackcloth life had thrown on us.

 The Lord came looking for us at the worst time of our lives, and because of that we now live in the best times, no matter what our physical circumstances may be.  We were all bruised reeds, but with tenderness and care He granted us the greatest of gifts, a spiritual healing that is eternal.  It is right to praise Him, to stand in awe, and to marvel.  But once in a while it wouldn’t hurt to remember the broken wings, the near fatal spiritual illnesses, the missing pieces of our hearts that He restored and what it cost.  Maybe our healed wings stay a little bent just to remind us where we were and what might have been without His amazing love.

 And always, we need to look for the others who need Him too.  There is room on the feeder for as many weak, sick, and dying birds as we can bring with us.  And then He can look with satisfaction one day on those who laid their burdens on Him, who allowed Him to care for them, who accepted His offer of love and grace.  And together we can marvel for Eternity.

Behold, my servant, whom I uphold; my chosen, in whom my soul delights: I have put my Spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the Gentiles. He will not cry, nor lift up his voice, nor cause it to be heard in the street. A bruised reed will he not break, and a dimly burning wick will he not quench: he will bring forth justice in truth. Isa 42:1-3

Dene Ward

Recently Keith’s sister came to visit and we took her to the Butterfly Rainforest at the Museum of Natural History at the University of Florida.  We have lived here since before the exhibit even opened and never managed to get there.  When we went in, we saw what we have been missing.

In the first place you cannot go inside with anything that cannot be closed properly, which means I had to leave my purse behind—it has a snap across the top, but is not sealed with a zipper.  Then you enter one door and cannot open the second until the first door has closed.  When you leave, you go through the same process—through one door, wait, close the door, then through the second door—but with an added precaution:  you check each other over for hitchhikers.  The butterflies will land on you, especially, it seemed from our experience that day, if you have on bright colors or large floral prints.  They will also land on your bare head and arms.  You must walk the paths carefully so as not to trod upon one that has landed there.  You sit on benches only after inspecting them.  But mainly, you just look and look and look, up and over and around.  They are everywhere.

The colors and patterns are breathtaking.  Scarlet and black, Halloween orange and black, an intricate black and white that looks for all the world like a tatted doily; olive and black, chartreuse and black, emerald green and aqua; pale blue, royal blue, teal and blue violet; solid brown, spotted brown, banded brown, and a brown design that looks like it belongs on the walls of ancient Aztec ruins—and that’s not the half of it.

Many of these beauties were brought from other places as pupae, and as they hatch are let go every day while the visitors watch.  It was a wonderful couple of hours.  And after I got home I started wondering if there were any butterflies in the Bible.  Well, yes, in a way.

First of all I found that back in the early days, the butterfly symbolized the resurrection of Jesus and later the resurrection of his saints.  That makes a certain amount of sense.  The caterpillar spins its pupa, which hangs there looking dead for a couple of weeks.  Then suddenly the adult emerges, alive again, or so it appears.

But it seems to me that the better Biblical image comes from Romans 12:2: Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.  Just as the caterpillar is transformed into something completely different, we should be too.  I am, in the words of 2 Cor 5:17, “a new creature.”  Those butterflies were beautiful, but when we walked the exhibits in the halls outside their “rainforest,” the pupa on display there were mottled gray-brown and just plain ugly.

I looked up that word “transformed” and guess what the Greek word is?  Metamorphoo.  I would be surprised if you haven’t heard that in a sermon sometime in your life, but maybe you have never really thought about the change that insect makes from worm to butterfly.  Looking at those beautiful things that morning, and then seeing those ugly pupae hanging by the score really brought the message home to me.  I am not just to change a little bit; I am to change drastically.  That may be difficult for you to comprehend if you were “brought up in the church” as we are prone to say, and have never really done any “big bad sins” as we tend to define them.  Yet it is my obligation to find the things that need changing. 

I may not read pornography, but I might become insensitive to the sin around me, especially when our culture deems it “appropriate” for television.  I may not steal, but my selfishness can rob others of any time or service they might need from me.  I may not commit idolatry, but I can become so celebrity-conscious that what those people say, do and wear become my model instead of Christ.  I may not murder, but I commit character assassination every time I call, text, or post unkind words about another.

Those butterflies we saw that day were almost too pretty for this sin-sick, ugly world.  That’s what people should be thinking about us.  We are not like the world, and we don’t like the world.  There is a better place coming, a “Butterfly Rainforest” for all those who have transformed their lives to be like their Lord.  Don’t land on the coat of a passerby and allow yourself to be removed from that hope.

…put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and…be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and…put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness, Eph 4:22-24.

Dene Ward

Retirement is a wonderful thing.  No more rushing around every morning, swallowing a quick breakfast whole, throwing on an outfit, and rushing out the door after a quick peck on your wife’s cheek.  At least that’s the way it was for Keith for several decades. 

Now it’s a leisurely breakfast in your pajamas with a second cup of coffee, and then a third out on the carport, watching the birds swoop down in front of us to the bird feeder, hummingbirds battling over their feeder like tiny pilots in fighter planes, and Chloe sitting next to us, her tail swishing sparkly grains of sand over the concrete.

We have a little ritual with her—three or four doggie treats that Keith sails out toward the flower bed one at a time with her tearing after them, sniffing around in the grass until she finds the morsel, then rolling in the dew wet grass in doggy euphoria before returning to her post at our feet, or even under our chairs—the better to garner a belly rub.

He always throws the treats in the same direction, slightly south of east, and makes the same whistle like a missile falling to the earth, and she has become habituated to the whole routine.  We did not realize how much until one morning he threw it north of east instead of south.  Even though she watched him do it, she still ran southeast and sniffed the ground in ever widening circles, becoming more and more frustrated when she could not find the treat.  Finally he had to get up and walk in the direction he threw it and call her over.  Eventually her nose found it, but you would have thought we had punished her as she dragged herself back without her customary cheerfulness, her tail sagging almost between her legs.  She was not happy again until he had thrown the next treat in the right direction—translation:  the one she expected.

Have you ever shown a friend a scripture that teaches something obvious, only to have him say, “I can’t see that?”  Have you ever had her read something out loud only to answer your unspoken comment with, “But I don’t believe it that way?”  Almost unbelievable, isn’t it?  Don’t think for a minute that you are immune to the same failing.  What you can see, what you do believe, depends a whole lot on what you are looking for. 

The worst thing you can do in your Bible study is go searching for something to back up what you already think.  In fact, I often tell brand new classes, “The biggest hindrance to learning is what you think you already know.”  I have had students who were intelligent and sincere look at something everyone else could see but not see it, and nearly every time it is because of some preconceived notion they grew up with or heard somewhere a long time ago and have not been able to let go.  Even something as plain as the nose on their faces.

What you already know will also raise a stop sign in your learning path.  As soon as you find what you thought was there, you will stop looking, when just a little more study and uninhibited consideration would have shown you something brand new.  The same thing happens when you rely on old notes.  You will never see anything new until you rid yourself of old ideas.  You will never find a deeper understanding if you think you have already dredged as far as you can go.

Jesus said, “For judgment I came into this world, that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind,” John 9:39.  He was not talking to unbelievers.  He was not talking to pagans.  He was talking to people who thought they knew God’s word inside out, who could quote whole books, who kept the law in the minutest detail, proud of how exact they were—even beyond exact—and the fact that they were children of Abraham.  Guess who that translates to today? 

When was the last time you learned anything new?  Thought any new thoughts?  Discovered any new connections in the scriptures?  When was the last time you changed your mind about something? Can you see it if it’s thrown in a direction you never thought of before, or are you as blind as those people who were sure they knew what their Messiah would look like and how he would act?  When he came out of left field, they were lost.  How about you?

…and if you are sure that you yourself are a guide to the blind, a light to those who are in darkness, an instructor of the foolish, a teacher of children, having in the law the embodiment of knowledge and truth— you then who teach others, do you not teach yourself…? Rom 2:19-21.

Dene Ward

Keith noticed it first, a dove that sat quiet and almost still on the ground beneath one of the hanging bird feeders.  While other doves and a bevy of cardinals hopped around him pecking at the ground, then flying up and down from the feeder, he barely moved a foot in two hours, and always one small, hesitant hop at a time.  By late evening most of the other birds were gone, finished with their free supper and off to find a good roosting place for the night, but he still sat there.

 By then I was a little worried.  I grabbed the binoculars for a closer look.  He had puffed himself up twice his size as birds will do in the winter to keep warm.  But it was still early September and the humid evening air hovered in the upper 80s.  Suddenly his head popped up, stretching out his neck just a bit, and then immediately back into the folds of feathers around his shoulders.  As I continued to watch I noticed it every five minutes or so.  It almost looked like he had hiccups, but somehow I did not think that was the problem.  Something worse was happening.

 Near dusk he suddenly flew straight up to the feeder itself.  Instead of perching on the outer rung designed for a bird to curl its feet around and be able to lean forward to eat from the small trough that ran around the bottom of the feeder, he flew into the trough itself, hunched down, and leaned against the clear plastic wall of the feeder.  Then he became completely still—no more twitching or bouncing.  I watched until it was too dark to see any longer. 

 The next morning I went out with my pail of birdseed to refill all the feeders around the house.  There beneath the feeder lay the now much smaller body of the dove.  Sometime in the night he had died and fallen off the feeder.  We carefully disposed of the small body for the sake of the other birds and our Chloe just in case it had carried a contagious illness.  It was a sad moment.  I couldn’t help but think, “You weren’t alone, little guy.  We watched you and we cared.”

 We weren’t the only ones watching.  Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father,Matt 10:29.  God notices when every little bird falls to the ground.  And never forget the lesson Jesus draws from that:  But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows,Matt 10:30-31.

 Dying alone has become a metaphor for a purposeless existence. “We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone,” (Orson Welles).

  It’s used to depict life and death as a beginning and end that you cannot effect one way or the other.  “Don’t expect anyone to stick around.  You were born alone and you will die alone,” (Anonymous).

 It’s used as a desperate pitiful plea for someone to care:  “I just don’t want to die alone, that’s all.  That’s not too much to ask for, is it?  It would be nice to have someone care for me, for who I am, not about my wallet,” (Richard Pryor).

 It’s used to show the meaninglessness of life:  “At the end, we all die alone,” (Anonymous).

 Is it any wonder that skeptics and atheists commit suicide?  None of these things is true for a Christian. 

 For the LORD loves justice; he will not forsake his saints. They are preserved forever…Ps 37:28.

 Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you,Heb 13:5.

 Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go,Josh 1:9.

 Sometimes we can quote passages like these until we are blue in the face, but when the hour of trial comes, any sort of trial, and no one stands with us, we allow the physical eye to fool us into believing we are alone.  We need to learn to see with spiritual eyes like our Lord did:  Behold, the hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each to his own home, and will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me,John 16:32.  We are the only ones who can take that promise away—when we don’t believe it.  With God a believer is never alone no matter how much vacant space surrounds him.

 If God promised to watch for every fallen bird, He will watch for me.  Even if someday I breathe my last breath in an otherwise empty room, I can know that Someone cares enough to be nearby, watching and waiting to take me home.

Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints, Ps 116:15.

And I will gather you to your fathers…2 Chron 34:28.

Dene Ward

My big flower bed on the south side of the shed attracts butterflies by the score.  Every day I see both white and yellow sulfurs, tiny blue hairstreaks, huge brown and yellow swallowtails, and glorious orange monarchs and viceroys flitting from bloom to bloom.  Sometimes it’s hard to tell where the bloom stops and the butterfly begins amid all those big yellow black-eyed Susans, multicolored zinnias, and purple petunias. 

 But have you ever watched a butterfly?  If you and I decided to go somewhere the way a butterfly goes, it would take all day to get there.  We have a saying: “as the crow flies,” meaning a straight line course.  A butterfly couldn’t fly a straight line no matter how hard it tried—it would always fail the state trooper’s sobriety test.

 Some of us live our spiritual lives like butterflies.  We seem to think that waking up in the morning and allowing life to just “happen” is the way to go.  No wonder we don’t grow.  No wonder we fail again and again at the same temptations.  No wonder we don’t know more about the Word of God this year than last, and no wonder we can’t stand the trials of faith.

 Some folks think that going to church is the plan.  That’s why their neighbors would be surprised to find out they are Christians—Sunday is their only day of service.  Others refuse to acknowledge any weakness they need to work on.  It rankles their pride to admit they need to improve on anything, and because they won’t admit anything specific, they never do improve. 

 Some folks make their life decisions with no consideration at all for their spiritual health, or the good of the kingdom.  The stuff of this life matters the most, and only after that do they give the spiritual a thought, if at all, and it is to be dismissed if it means anything untoward for their physical comfort, convenience, status, or wealth. 

 The only plan they have for their children is their physical welfare—how they will do in school, where they will go to college, what career they will pursue.  They must get their schoolwork, but their parents don’t even know what they are studying in Bible classes, much less make sure they get their lessons.  It’s too much trouble to take them to spiritual gatherings of other young Christians.  And have you seen how much those camps cost?!  Probably less than a year’s worth of cell phone service and much less than the car they buy those same kids. 

 Where is the plan for this family’s spiritual growth?  Where is their devotion to a God they claim as Lord?  If their children do end up faithful, it will be in spite of these parents, not because of them.

 God expects us to have a plan.  The writer of the seventeenth psalm had one.  “I have purposed that my mouth will not transgress,” he says in verse 3, and then later, “I have avoided the ways of the violent, my steps have held fast to your paths,” (4b,5a).  He made a vow and he kept it.  He mapped his life out to stay away from evil and on the road to his Father.

 How are you doing as you fly through life—and it does fly, people!  Are you flitting here and there, around one bush and over another, out of the flower bed entirely once in awhile, then back in for a quick sip of nectar before heading off in whichever direction the wind blows?  Or do you have a plan, a map to get you past the pitfalls with as little danger as possible, to the necessary stops for revival and refreshing, but then straight back on the road to your next life?

 Do you know what the term social butterfly means?  It’s someone who flits from group to group.  Perhaps not so much now, but originally the term was one of ridicule.  I wonder what God would think of a spiritual butterfly who has no focus on the spiritual things of this life, but flits from one thing to another and always on a carnal whim rather than a spiritual one.  I wonder if He would decide that butterfly wouldn’t be able to appreciate an eternity of spiritual things either.

…And [Barnabas] exhorted them all to remain faithful to the Lord with steadfast purpose, for he was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and of faith...  Acts 11:23,24.

Dene Ward

We have two wild turkey hens coming to the feeder these days.  We knew they were out there in the woods—you can hear the toms gobbling and the hens clucking early in the morning and in the first hours of dusk.  Then last fall we saw four traipsing across our garden in the middle of the day.  A young visitor that day heard Keith and her father talking about “turkey season,” and I heard her whispering, “Run turkeys!  Run!”  And they did.

 Then in the middle of winter one morning I looked out and there stood a turkey hen under the south feeder pecking at the fallen birdseed.  She visited every day for awhile and eventually found her way around the house to the other two feeders.  Gradually she became used to us, and now we can go out on one side of the house without her leaving the opposite side at a “turkey trot.”  She will even let us move by the window inside, where she can see us clearly, without running away.

 Then one afternoon there she was again, only she looked a little different, didn’t she?  Maybe her neck was thicker we said, and then one of us moved in our chairs and she ran down the trellis bed and actually flew over the fence.  Turkeys do not like to fly, so she must have been terrified.  That’s when we put two and two together and realized we now had two turkeys, one with a thinner neck who has learned that we won’t bother her, and one with a thicker neck who still thinks we are some sort of predator out to get her.  Isn’t it odd that it’s the skinnier turkey that is the least frightened?

 That is an apt metaphor for the people of Israel.  They were the country with the skinniest neck, yet throughout their history they routed huge armies or saw them turned back by “circumstances.”  They watched God’s power work when no other country their size, nor even some larger, could withstand the enemy.  But despite that ongoing evidence, only a few learned to depend upon God, only a few saw the chariots of the Lord on the hilltops around them (2 Kings 6:12-18).  Only a few of them had faith and courage like this:

 And Asa cried to the LORD his God, “O LORD, there is none like you to help, between the mighty and the weak. Help us, O LORD our God, for we rely on you, 2 Chron 14:11.

 Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God. They collapse and fall, but we rise and stand upright, Psa 20:7,8.

 Eventually there weren’t enough faithful to save them from destruction.  Eventually God had to remove the ones He thought had some potential and send the prophets to ready them for a return, but even then only a small remnant came back.  Many of them were still frightened turkeys, and they were well aware of how skinny their necks were.

 Learn the lesson those people didn’t.  God has given you evidence every day of your life that He is with you.  If you think otherwise, you just haven’t noticed.  Trials in your life are not an indication that He is not with you.  Paul told the Romans that “tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, or sword,” none of those could separate us from the love of Christ—not that they would never happen! 

 Be ready to stand against whatever army Satan throws at you, knowing that ​the chariots of God are twice ten thousand, thousands upon thousands; [and] the Lord is among them, Psa 68:17.

Dene Ward 

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

Early October a year ago, Nathan and Brooke with Silas and Judah came up for a visit.  One of the things we did was to go up into the Blackwater River State Forest to a trail I knew that leads to bluffs overlooking a creek.  Bluffs nearly 30 feet tall, as much as 50 feet over the creek, may be the norm in large parts of the country, but in Florida they are nearly unique.  It was a fun morning of playing on the cliffs, exploring the area, and racing sticks down the creek.  When we first got to the trail-head, knowing that my nephews were city boys, I explained to them that this was a wild forest.  There could be dangerous animals, especially snakes, and so they should stay behind me as we hiked the trail.  "If I stop, you stop."  Their mother strengthened my words a bit, the boys agreed and off we went to a fun morning.   

This past June, I was able to host Silas and Judah for nearly a week.  A couple of times we took forested hikes.  I repeated my warnings to my brilliant, but city-bred nephews.  This time, however, Judah responded with, "You said that last time we were here and there weren't any snakes," as if a little impatient with his overly cautious uncle.  Despite saying that, Judah stayed behind me as we hiked and did as I asked.  Judah did display an ignorance of some harsh realities that exist in the wild, though.  Any country boy will tell you that you can stumble around in the forest 99 different times and never see a venomous snake.  Most wild things, including snakes, will avoid people if possible.  However, on that 100th time, when the snake doesn't hear you coming in time, or is cornered by some landscape obstacle and you blunder closely enough to scare the snake, he will strike.  If venomous, you will die, or get very ill with possible life-long effects.  It only takes once.  That is why, every time one walks across a field, or hikes through the forest it behooves him to keep his eyes out for snakes.  

Our enemy is called a snake (Gen. 3, Rev. 12:9) and a hungry lion (1 Pet. 5:8) -- why else is he roaring?  If I am on a hike where either of those animals are possible to be, I am keeping my eyes open and my head on a swivel.  And certainly, if I see the danger, I will not get close and try to pet the snake!  We are repeatedly admonished to flee from sin and temptations (1 Cor. 6:18; 10:14; 2 Tim. 2:22).  To flee from it, we must have our eyes open and know where those temptations are.  Once found, we stay away!   It only takes one time getting bit to ruin our spiritual lives, and perhaps our physical lives as well.  God forgives, but earthly consequences remain and the temptation to repeat something one discovers he really enjoys is often greater than the original curiosity.  Once bitten by the snake, one's life is never the same.

Keep your eyes open every time you hike into the spiritual wildness of this world!

1 Tim. 6:9,11  "But they that are minded to be rich fall into a temptation and a snare and many foolish and hurtful lusts, such as drown men in destruction and perdition. . . But thou, O man of God, flee these things; and follow after righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, meekness."

Lucas Ward

      Here in Tampa we still take a third cup of coffee outside every morning, but now, instead of seeing our 5 wooded acres, dotted with sheds, bird feeders, and gardens full of flowers, herbs, and vegetables, we sit on a screened porch that looks out at the back fence no more than ten feet away.  It may not be as nice a view as before, but it still serves its purpose as we rehash classes, sermons, and things that need to be seen about in the week to come, usually people who need to be seen about.  I am more likely to have the week's schedule firmly in my head so we can avoid conflicts or, if we find any, figure them out.

     As we sat there a few days ago, Keith suddenly sat up straight. "Listen!  What is that?" he asked.  I knew instantly from all my days up north with bird books and binoculars. 

     "It's a wren," I told him.

     "A wren!" he said in wonder.  "It's been forty years since I've heard a wren."

     Okay, take a big gulp now and blink your eyes really fast to stem the rising tears as I did that morning.  That moment may be the most amazing moment he has had since the cochlear implant was put in and turned on.  I used to sit and listen to wrens for a long time because their song was so loud and clear and beautiful. Yet I knew a woman who had grown irritated with wrens because, "They're so cotton pickin' loud!"  They may have been loud, but Keith had not heard them at all.  I cannot imagine ever complaining about a wren's song.

     I suppose I could come up with all sorts of applications on this one—so could you.  But just consider now the things we often complain about:  song leaders and the songs they choose or how they choose to lead them; Bible class teachers who are studying for hours but are still not public speaking specialists and so are often not exactly riveting orators; preachers who are too blunt, too general, too loud, too long, etc., etc., etc.   But imagine someone who has never heard the life-giving Word of God and how he listens to it.  We can tell you from experience that no one listens to, comprehends, thinks about, studies for, or instantly forgives the imperfections of a preacher or teacher like a brand new Christian. 

     Just what are we taking for granted ourselves?  The timid voice of a new convert as he reads from the Word of God; a congregation of ordinary people singing the best they can if a bit draggy and a lot flat; a small toddler calling out exuberantly during services because, after all, everyone else just did; a young man scrambling around for a passage as he delivers his first talk, voice trembling and face turning a bit red, note papers fluttering in the air conditioner draft; a teenager saying the closing prayer, hesitating here and there, occasionally repeating himself as he still manages to present a heartfelt prayer to the God of all of us, who also sits patiently and listens to far more than just the sounds we make.  Just a little perspective can change a complaint into blessing.

     Have you heard a wren lately?  If you are doing a lot of complaining, maybe you need to go outside and listen for a few minutes.  Maybe you need a change in attitude, and perspective.  Then just maybe you will recognize the soul pleasing sounds you have been missing.

And he said, How shall we liken the kingdom of God? or in what parable shall we set it forth? It is like a grain of mustard seed, which, when it is sown upon the earth, though it be less than all the seeds that are upon the earth, yet when it is sown, grows up, and becomes greater than all the herbs, and puts out great branches; so that the birds of the heaven can lodge under the shadow thereof. And with many such parables spoke he the word unto them, as they were able to hear it Mark 4:31-33.

Dene Ward

We have recently discovered phoebes on our property, seven inch gray birds with light olive bellies and a slightly darker head.  Even though we have been birding for several years now, this is the first we have seen of these.  Being insect eaters, seed-filled feeders hold no interest for them, so I have never seen one from my chair by the window.  They are strictly carnivores.

            Their behavior is what gives them away—their “hawking.”  They sit on a bare tree branch and watch the ground below.  When a bug catches their eye, they swoop down for the kill, then fly right back to the same branch, and wait for another.  Sort of bloodthirsty for such a cute little bird.

            They have been using the trees on the edge of the garden, a place where insects abound, and we are happy to have their help ridding the plants of them.  Now we have a much smaller fall garden, a few peppers and tomatoes, and the cooler temperatures mean fewer bugs.  Maybe that is why they have moved in closer, sitting atop tomato posts, waiting for their prey to creep by.

            And last week we saw yet another new bug eater.  Keith planted about 70% of the garden in sorghum.  The huge seed heads on these plants attract both wildlife and birds.  That was his intention—to help feed the seed-eating birds and perhaps attract even more to the feeders closer to the house.  That sorghum patch is where we saw the new bird, a five inch olive green bird, with a yellow throat, a black mask, and a long thin beak.  My bird books tell us he is a yellowthroat, one of the many varieties of warbler.  He, too, practices hawking and being smaller and lighter he can perch on the head of those thin-stemmed sorghum plants without bending them over.  He is not there for the seeds but, like the phoebes, to watch for any bugs that crawl by.  Sometimes he is lucky and one will be deeply embedded in the seed head itself.  All he has to do is lean over and probe with that long thin beak deep between those seeds.  Lunch, without even having to dive for it.

            That is not why we planted sorghum.  It is not why we put posts by the tomatoes.  Yet right now, the phoebes and the yellowthroats are getting more out of the garden than we are.

            Sometimes Satan gets more use out of the good things we try to do than God does.  How many times has a healthy pastime become more important to us than our spiritual health?  I’ve seen women so concerned about their figures that they would no longer offer or accept meal invitations from other Christians, nor cook and take a meal to the needy.  I’ve seen Christian men spend more time toning up their physical muscles than studying to tone up their spiritual ones.  They won’t miss a work-out, but personal Bible study is a sometime thing.

            How many times has the job which was meant to support the family become an all-consuming career that robbed a home of involved parents or a spouse of a supposedly committed and devoted mate?  How many times has the money earned led to greed instead of generosity, and a dependence upon self rather than God?

            Just because something is not inherently sinful, doesn’t mean evil cannot come from it.  Just because you intend good from it, doesn’t mean the Devil can’t find a way to produce the opposite.

            One thing about those phoebes and yellowthroats—they make an excellent example of careful watching; their lives depend upon it.  Take a moment today to sit still and quiet and really look at the things in your life and what they are producing.  Your spiritual life depends upon it.

His beautiful ornament they used for pride, and they made their abominable images and their detestable things of it. Therefore I make it an unclean thing to them Ezekiel 7:20.

Dene Ward