Birds Animals - Dene's Blog

Bug Eaters

10/6/2025 0 Comments

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

The Neighborhood Ducks

9/19/2025 0 Comments

If you have been with me for a while, you know that I like birds. If there is one thing I miss, it's all the feeders we had put out and the many varieties of bird we have seen in the years since. Here, in Tampa, they do have birds, but our yard is so tiny, there is no place to put feeders without opening an all-you-can-eat Squirrel Buffet. You simply cannot get far enough away from a tree or a fence but what they can jump over to any feeder you put out. I toyed with the idea of one of those feeders that sends the interlopers on a tilt-a-whirl ride until the finally go flying, but as I said, the houses and the fences are too close. All we would hear all day long is thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. Then there would be the problem of punch-drunk squirrels reeling across the yard.

Our neighbor has a couple of very tall oak trees. With a tall stepladder, he has fastened two long strings to branches a good fifteen feet high with a feeder hanging from each. A squirrel cannot go down the long string, nor can he jump far enough—at least not yet. Finally, we have a few more birds around us. We also have Muscovy Ducks in our neighborhood and they have begun flocking to the feeders to eat the fallen seed—a whole "raft" of ducks, which I have discovered is the collective noun for ducks in the water. If you are not familiar with them, Muscovy Ducks are the Ugly Ducklings of the species—actually the ducklings look much better than the adults. Those cute little yellow ducklings grow into a wide range of coloring from all black to all white with various mixes of pattern in between, but their distinguishing characteristic is a large, fleshy, red patch around the base of the bill and eyes called a caruncle. If you see red, you are seeing a Muscovy Duck.

These ducks are excellent at pest control. They will eat the bugs out of your lawn and also do a number on flying insects like flies, gnats, and mosquitoes. We have seen them at work, in fact, as they cross our front lawn to get to the fallout from the neighbor's feeder. Sometimes a couple of them will even stay in our lawn while the others go on to the neighbor's. For every bug they eat, that's less pesticide our lawn needs and the more comfortable we are when we sit on the patio.

They began laying eggs in the spring. Brooke and Nathan had a couple of clutches between their driveway and the front door—18 eggs in all. Mama discovered quickly that she needed to move the babies as soon as she could because she was about a foot from a rising garage door and a couple of fat car tires. All she left behind were empty shells.

We had our first encounter with the ducklings as they came down the south side of our house one morning while we were sitting on the back porch, the west side, drinking coffee. Mama did not realize that she had found a dead end street. The subdivision fence walls our backyard, and the north side of the yard has no outlet thanks to the neighbor's fence. We sat and waited until finally, here she came with her babies behind her, cautiously peering at us as she came back around the back porch. She kept turning back every foot or two, realizing she was in a bad situation with no escape. Keith had to go as far as possible on the porch so it would seem like he was behind her, then bang on the porch wall in order to encourage Mama to keep going. Meanwhile, I sat as still as possible so I wouldn't scare her. As she turned on the west side of the porch, she picked up the pace and her ducklings waddled as fast as their short little webbed feet would go. Soon she was back on the south side headed the correct way to the neighbor's fallen seed.

Pay attention, parents. Those ducklings went wherever Mama led them. They had no idea if it was a safe place or a dangerous place. They didn't care whether there were big, bad monsters there or nice people who just liked to watch ducklings. They didn't even know if there would be food there or not. All they knew was that where Mama went was where they wanted to be.

I watched another Mama and her ducklings yesterday. When Mama was finished eating, she left. So did her babies. She walked across the only straightaway in our neighborhood where some of the neighbors hit 45 on this narrow street lined with parked cars and where human children also play. Some neighbors don't care about anything but getting from one place to another as quickly as they can. Keith has been known to go out into the street when the other neighbor's children are playing to wave the speeders down. But he wasn't home that day as Mama Duck led her babies across the street. I held my breath until they were all safe across.

It seems to me that some parents have no idea where they are leading their children. It seems that some believe they can let them run wild and they will somehow miraculously become kind, generous, polite, self-disciplined adults at some magic age in the future. They won't. They will be just as poorly behaved, ill-mannered, and undisciplined as adults. If you shield them from all the consequences of their misbehavior, they will be shocked when society makes them pay. Oh, but my husband could tell you stories for hours of the young people who wound up on probation but somehow thought they didn't have to follow the rules and eventually wound up in prison. Yes, it can be exactly that serious—kids who came from good families in good neighborhoods and who went to private schools and sometimes church, but who were never taught to behave, to respect the rights of others, and the simple fact that you cannot do everything you want to do, not in real life.

I watched ducklings leave a meal because Mama was finished. Whatever Mama does, whatever Daddy does, whatever they allow, that is what your children will do. Remember that.

Take these commands to heart and keep them in mind, tying them as reminders on your arm and as bands on your forehead. Teach them to your children, talking about them while sitting in your house, walking on the road, or when you are about to lie down or get up. Also write them upon the doorposts of your house and gates so that you and your children may live long on the land that the Lord promised to give your ancestors—as long as the sky remains above the earth Deut 11:18-21.

September 1, 1914 Becoming Extinct

9/1/2025 0 Comments

     A couple of centuries ago, Passenger Pigeons were the most widespread bird in North America, estimated to be 25-40% of the entire avian population, roughly three to five billion. When they passed overhead, the skies darkened for up to an hour, the time it took for one flock to pass by. Someone said they sounded like a thousand threshing machines, a thousand steamboats, and a thousand trains all at once. They ranged from the Atlantic to the Mississippi River and from the Great Lakes to the southern United States.
     The birds flew far in their migration and when they returned in the spring, the settlers in the early days of this country jumped for joy—free protein after the near starvation of winter. The birds flew so low and so thick that you could swing a pole and kill enough for dinner. With the advent of the telegraph and railroad, the hunting of passenger pigeons by both amateur and professional sportsmen flourished with numbers nearly as many as the birds themselves, until by the mid-1890s, only three captive breeding flocks were left. On September 1, 1914, the last passenger pigeon, a female named Martha, died at the Cincinnati Zoo. She was about 29 years old and had never laid a fertile egg. Efforts to save them had come too late. (All information courtesy of Audubon, the e-magazine.)
     What are you doing to keep Christianity from going extinct? Or do you just expect others to do that?
     Think first about your family. Are you teaching your children at home, not just expecting them to pick it up in church Bible classes, but spending regular time every day talking to them about God in any and every way possible, praying with them, reading the scriptures to them, helping them to begin to make small decisions that a Christian must eventually make in his life in a much larger way?
     How about your neighborhood? Does the man across the fence know you are a Christian? Does the woman down the street whom you pass as she weeds her flowerbeds, the couple who take a walk every evening on the sidewalk that runs past your house? Does the friendly cashier know that you are on your way to Bible class and just stopped to pick up a couple of things you forgot? Does the UPS man know that you are pressure cleaning the sidewalk because you expect some folks to come that night for a study? Or are you hiding your allegiance to the Lord, and if so, why?
     What happens at work? Does the boss know that staying late on Wednesday night is not a good option for you? Does she know that you will miss the company picnic because you will be worshipping God on Sunday? And maybe more important, do they know they can count on you to work hard and do things right precisely because you are a Christian. That you won't be making flimsy excuses for missing work, possibly even lying about being sick?
     Will any of that keep Christianity from going extinct? Why do you think people ask you about your religion? Because, as a nurse told us once after several days in the hospital, "There's something different about you." You'd better believe it will help.
   But for today, just think about your home. The first step to extinction is when the next generation is lost. What's happening to yours?

And also all that generation were gathered unto their fathers: and there arose another generation after them, that knew not Jehovah, nor yet the work which he had wrought for Israel. And the children of Israel did that which was evil in the sight of Jehovah, and served the Baalim; and they forsook Jehovah, the God of their fathers, who brought them out of the land of Egypt, and followed other gods, of the gods of the peoples that were round about them, and bowed themselves down unto them: and they provoked Jehovah to anger. And they forsook Jehovah, and served Baal and the Ashtaroth Judg2:10-13.

Dene Ward

Moles

8/19/2025 0 Comments

Chloe doesn’t have much of a sense of smell thanks to her doggie allergies, which alternately cause congestion or a runny nose. We can throw her a treat and then sit for several minutes unbothered while she searches for it in the grass. But her sense of hearing must be amazing.
            She can distinguish our car engine all the way from the highway, almost a half mile. I’ve seen her sit there and watch for Keith for several minutes before he even gets to the gate, before the dogs along the lane begin to bark at his passing because she hears “him” coming.
            And she can hear moles digging underground. We will be walking along outside when suddenly she stands at point, looking at the grass just ahead of her, then pounces and begins digging, her snout in nearly to her eyeballs as she digs and sniffs (bless her heart, she tries) and searches. Many times she has brought out the mole and disposed of it. This year we have had plenty for her to work on.
            Moles are small mammals, insectivores, suited to a subterranean lifestyle. They have tiny or invisible eyes and ears. They have the ability to survive in a low oxygen environment by reusing oxygen inhaled aboveground. That also means they can tolerate the higher levels of carbon dioxide that would poison most mammals. They avoid each other except in breeding season and fight whenever they do meet. I couldn’t even find a word for a group of moles. They aren’t herds or swarms or gaggles or flocks. Maybe that’s because the word is unnecessary since they never get together.
            Think about all that. Does it sound familiar?
            Do you know any people with small eyes and ears, many of whom are blind?
            Why do you not understand my speech? [Even] because you cannot hear my word, John 8:43.
            In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. 2 Cor 4:4.
            Do you know a group who reuses old oxygen, failing to bring in any new work to revitalize its heart, poisoning itself in the process?
            …Thus making void the word of God by your tradition that you have handed down, Mark 7:13.
            Do you know a group that avoids each other except in season (Sundays) and then fights when they do meet?
            Whence [come] wars and whence [come] fightings among you? [come they] not hence, [even] of your pleasures that war in your members? James 4:1.
            But if you bite and devour one another, take heed that you be not consumed one of another, Gal 5:15.
            If all that sounds like a group you know, even if they call themselves the body of Christ, they are only pretenders. That is not what he gave his life for.
            I am certain you could come up with other comparisons yourself. But don’t waste your time on that or you are in danger of becoming one of those moles yourself, festering underground in your own poison. Just do what you can by being what you ought to be. Moles are ugly, in more ways than one. It shouldn’t take much motivation to not become one.

"There are those who rebel against the light, who are not acquainted with its ways, and do not stay in its paths. The murderer rises before it is light, that he may kill the poor and needy, and in the night he is like a thief. The eye of the adulterer also waits for the twilight, saying, 'No eye will see me'; and he veils his face. In the dark they dig through houses; by day they shut themselves up; they do not know the light. Job 24:13-16.

Dene Ward

Running Around in Circles

8/12/2025 0 Comments

We have put up several new feeders and the bird population has exploded. We see more new kinds and more of them than ever before. We have also seen a few new bird antics as well.
            Yesterday we looked out in time to see two doves running around the pole from which one of the feeders hangs. While cardinals and titmice usually fly the four feet up from the ground to the feeders, the doves are content to peck off the ground what falls, and a great deal does. Pick up the binoculars and watch the seeds fly every time one of the birds “on high” pecks at it. Meanwhile, down below, the doves revel in the raining plenty.
            Except those two. For several minutes they chased one another around and around and around that pole, the one trying to shoo the other away from the free meal. Occasionally the one in front got far enough ahead to stop and peck a seed, but the one behind, running literally ankle deep in food, never got a bite.
            Kind of reminds me of a few Bible classes I have sat in. Two men wrapped up in their own opinions, chase one another around in circles with their “logic,” and neither one of them get any of the spiritual nourishment being offered that morning. Or one man desperately tries to have his meal while another of differing opinion cannot allow it and pursues him with “arguments about words.” In fact, if the man isn’t careful, he will usually be cornered right after class as the chase continues. Like those two birds I watched that day, neither one is fed, despite the banquet laid right in front of them.
            Paul calls that sort of behavior “carnal” and immature, 1 Cor 3:1-3. He equates it with orgies and drunkenness, Rom 13:13. James puts it on a par with “every vile practice,” 3:16. All of them link quarreling with things like jealousy, envy, hostility, and selfishness. James even adds murder and adultery to the mix, 4:1-4. It is one thing to have a spirited discussion of the Scriptures. It is another entirely to refuse to consider new ideas, clinging to beliefs out of pride or dismissing a point simply because of who presented it, all cloaked in concern for words and their correct meanings while patently ignoring basic spiritual concepts like Divine authority and holiness.
            Our spiritual meals are presented to help us glorify God, not to exalt ourselves over others. They are food for the soul, not ammunition for the spiteful.   They are nourishment for the kind, not fodder for the vindictive. If all we can do is chase one another in circles with the Word of God, we don’t deserve to hold those sacred writings in our hands.
            I laughed at those two stupid doves under my feeder. Then I just shook my head and sighed. I have seen too many Christians just like them.

For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." But if you bite and devour one another, watch out that you are not consumed by one another. But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh, Galatians 5:14-16.

Dene Ward

Walking the Dog

8/1/2025 0 Comments

Judah seems to enjoy his visits our here in the country as much, or maybe more than his big brother. Like Silas, as soon as his feet hit the cool green grass, he fell in love with going barefoot and ran all over the place. Since he usually ran me into the ground, I decided that first morning that he could handle walking Chloe with me. I would have to slow our pace for him, but I was sure his active little legs could handle the distance.
            The boys and I started out ahead and then I called Chloe to follow. Usually she is out front waiting for me, prancing impatiently, but Chloe is not your average dog. She is a bit of an oxymoron—a scaredy-cat of a dog. She is positive that everything on two feet is out to get her. She is not afraid of us, nor of Lucas, but no one else can get near her. Not even, as it turns out, a twenty-month old toddler.
            But that didn’t keep the toddler from trying. As soon as he saw Chloe, Judah left the path along the fence and headed through the field toward her. As soon as Chloe saw Judah, she took off running. He sped up and I held my breath as he plowed through vines, briars, blackberries and stinging nettles. I took off after him, sure that his soft baby skin would be scratched, torn, and bloody. He single-mindedly waded on through, leaving a trail of bent and broken greenery behind, until finally I caught up and scooped him into my arms. With his mind still on his goal, he pointed toward Chloe and said, “Dog. Wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh-wuhf!”
            I checked him over and he was fine, not a mark on him, no blood, no rashes, no stickers poking out of tender little fingers or toes. So I put him down, this time on the garden path, and called Chloe to resume our walk--and it started all over again. Judah chased, Chloe ran, and I followed. This was not going to work.   Finally I got the garden wagon, put Judah in it, and Chloe followed behind at what she deemed a safe distance--about thirty feet. But every time Judah’s head swiveled to her and his little finger pointed, she veered from the path and dropped back another foot or two, until reassured that the dangerous little predator wouldn’t come swooping in and nab her unexpectedly.
            We had gone out that morning to walk Chloe. Judah certainly didn’t have the goal in mind when we went for that walk. That’s why he couldn’t stay on the path. I realized not long afterward, though, that he did have a goal in mind. It was just not the same goal as mine. I wanted to walk the dog. He wanted to experience the dog.
            I think too many times we live our lives aimlessly. We just let it happen, and then wonder why things went south. We have no plan for improvement, no strategy for overcoming—we don’t even notice the temptation coming! I found dozens of verses using the words aim, goal, and purpose. I found others listing the things we should be looking for or to or toward. Do you really think God has no purpose for you?
            I cry out to God Most High, to God who fulfills his purpose for me. Psa 57:2.
            The LORD has made everything for its purpose, even the wicked for the day of trouble. Prov 16:4.
            If God has a purpose for the evil people in the world, then certainly He has one for His children. So if He has a purpose for us, shouldn’t we be acting with purpose? We are familiar with the concept of “purposing” our contributions, but why do you assemble where you do? To be entertained? Because this group is loving and makes me feel good? Because I like the singing? I know a lot of people who assemble with those goals in mind. How about these instead: I assemble here to serve others, even if they don’t serve me; I am here to learn and be admonished, even if they do step on my toes; I am here to participate in those acts we are to do as an “assembly” even if I don’t particularly care for the method used in getting that done. Do you see? When I have this sort of purpose, it stops being all about ME.
            Why do you work for a living? Do you know the reason Paul gives? “So you may have something to share with anyone in need.” Eph 4:28. Is that why you work? I bet it’s not why your neighbor works. And here we get to the point. Judah and I did not share goals that morning, so we did not share paths either. Are you sharing your neighbor’s path, or are you on a better one? You ought to be.
            The world may look at how you live and shake its head. There you go trudging through tall grass, sharp thorns, and clinging vines when the path they are taking is so much easier. Paul had given up the goal of status among the Jewish leaders, along with potential wealth and fame. “But whatever gain I had I counted as loss for the sake of Christ,” he said. His goal in life had changed and so his path had as well. I am sure his former colleagues and teachers looked with disbelief on the things he left behind and the causes he took up. “But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” Phil 3:7,13,14, just like that little toddler pressed on that morning.
            What is your goal? You should have one every day, not just on Sundays, although that would be a good start for a lot of people. Maybe the first thing you should do is look around and see who is on the same path you are. That might give you pause to consider.

He exhorted them all to remain faithful to the Lord with steadfast purpose, Acts 11:23.

Dene Ward

Bird Calls

7/1/2025 0 Comments

One of the benefits of becoming a birdwatcher is learning their songs. It’s been a few years now, and every year I learn another call or sometimes unlearn one I thought I knew. For the longest time I thought I was hearing a cardinal, when it was really a wren, but now I know them instantly.
            I have also learned that the same bird produces more than one call. A cardinal will peep, one high light note at a time, or he will purty, purty, purty, or what, what, what, what, or even cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer, cheer. It all depends upon whether he is courting a female, defending his territory from other males, warning other birds of interlopers, or just contentedly enjoying his meal. But whichever call he uses, now I know it.
            Some bird songs are deceptive. A mourning dove sounds like some kind of soft-spoken owl. A blue jay’s whistle might sound a bit like a cuckoo to someone who is used to listening to cuckoo clocks. And did you know that the movies often use a hawk’s call when an eagle is pictured because it sounds much more regal for our national bird than the squawk an eagle usually produces? And so you have to be educated to these sounds to know them, to distinguish one from the other.
            The same is true of the Bible. The things I see people falling for astonish me. How could they possibly believe such craziness? How? Because they have never educated themselves in the scriptures. If you know the general teaching of the Bible, the general layout of the plot (yes, there is one), more than that, if you know the God and the Christ presented in those Scriptures, you won’t fall for the false teachings out there. You may not know exactly what is wrong, but your mind will instantly say, “Wait a minute. Something doesn’t sound right.”
            You can only do that by paying attention to everything Jesus says, not just the parts you like. Too many of us don’t want a Savior who demands that we follow him only, that we give up ourselves, our likes and dislikes, our loyalties and loves, and who makes statements like, “Sin no more,” and “You are of your father the devil.” We want the loving Jesus who forgives sins and holds the little children in his lap. To truly accept Jesus is to accept all of his words and ways, not just the parts we prefer. “The sheep follow the shepherd,” Jesus says, “because they know his voice” John 10:4. Even the stern, disciplinary voice.
            Jesus is our Good Shepherd. We must learn all of his words in order to truly know him and not be deceived. All who came before me were thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen, John 10:8. I’m afraid too many of us would listen, and become lost sheep in the process.
            Do you know his voice? If you don’t know the whole of Jesus and God’s word, you don’t. If I can learn a couple dozen bird calls in such a short amount of time, surely you can learn the call of a Savior who wants you to know him in even less.

So Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, "If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." John 8:31-32

Dene Ward

The Broken Wing

5/2/2025 0 Comments

I saw him first in the early spring, the days still cool and breezy, the sun only barely warming the greening grass. I am not sure exactly how he reached the feeder next to my window, but later I saw him hopping down one limb at a time to the ground. His right wing was broken, dragging on whatever surface he stood; he was unable to lift it at all. Yet by hopping upward one limb at a time, I surmised, he had managed to get to a plentiful food supply and ate as much as he needed.
            All spring he came, usually after the other birds had eaten their fill and left. I made sure he had plenty and he seemed to appreciate it, eying me from the safety beyond the window where I sat as he pecked the seed. Finally his wing began to mend. After a couple of weeks he was able to pull it up a bit. Gradually he pulled it closer and closer to his body, and suddenly one afternoon he gave it a try and flew to the feeders out in the yard, the ones on straight poles that he couldn’t reach before. His flight was wobbly, swooping down toward the grass in a dive I thought would crash-land, but then he managed to flap a bit and rise to land on the red plastic perch.
            His wing and his maneuvers have both improved. I can still tell which one he is, though, because that wing healed crookedly and still bows out from his body as if he has his hand in his pocket, elbow stuck out, but his flying is straight and sure now. He survived what might have brought death to any other bird, perhaps because of the free and easy meal he could still manage to reach while he healed.
            Isn’t that why God put us here together? When one of us has a broken wing, the rest of us do what we can to help. It may be physical—taking meals to the ill or injured or those recovering from surgeries. But far more often it is a spiritual break, a soul in jeopardy from the pitfalls of life that have left him maimed and unable to care for himself.
            And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all. 1 Thessalonians 5:14
            We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Romans 15:1
            Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. Galatians 6:2.
            In this way we follow the example of our Lord: a bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not quench…Matt 12:20. Just as he healed so many broken souls, he expects us to do the same.
            Sometimes it is difficult to deal with these broken souls. It takes time, it takes effort, sometimes it even takes heartache and tears. It means we might miss a planned outing, a meal, or maybe some sleep. Taking care of those in pain can take up your life—but then, isn’t service supposed to be our life when we give it all to the Suffering Servant? Service by definition is never convenient.
            Look around for those broken wings. God expects you to be His agent in taking care of His ailing children. Feed them, care for them, listen, advise, and if necessary, correct. Above all, be patient—healing takes time. If you aren’t willing to do that, then maybe the broken wing is yours.

Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who have an anxious heart, "Be strong; fear not! Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God. He will come and save you." Isaiah 35:3-4

Dene Ward

Drab Colors

4/29/2025 0 Comments

In the winter sparrows invade my yard, swarming the feeders like ants. It is nothing unusual for 15 or so to cover the trough by the window, while a dozen more sit in the azaleas waiting for an opening. Meanwhile, thirty to forty hop along the ground, flitting back and forth to the smaller hanging feeders, which sway from the impetus of their continual take-offs. After several frosts the brown and black grass successfully camouflages their drab brown and gray feathers. I can only tell they are there because frosted off grass doesn’t ordinarily move, but that grass literally writhes.
            Brown and gray—drab colors compared to the brilliant red cardinals, the bright yellow goldfinches, the contrasting red and yellow bars on the blackbird’s wing, and the patchwork quilt feathers of the painted bunting. Even the brown of the Carolina wren is comparatively bright, and the stark contrasts of the zebra-striped black and white warbler perched pecking at the suet cage draws your eye far sooner than the mousy little sparrow.
            But someday you should sit at my window when one of them lands on the trough not six inches from your nose. Up close the intricate patterns on their wings suddenly turn those drab colors into a source of wonder and delight. Like delicate lace, the brown and gray sections, outlined by white and spotted with black, will keep your attention for a half hour or more as you struggle to discern the pattern God has placed in their tiny feathers. No artist could have created anything so exquisite, especially using those colors.
            And what about you? God can take your drab colors and create a creature far beyond your imagination. He can take a miserable life and give it purpose, a sorrowful spirit and make it joyous, a selfish heart and tenderize it with compassion. He can take a soul overwhelmed by the darkness of sin and make it bright with the reflection of its Savior.
            There is nothing drab about the life of a Christian. God can make even the most ordinary person extraordinary. We have no need for garish colors, for manmade ornament, or the laurels of worldly praise. We know who we are—new creatures, “created in Christ Jesus for good works,” each of us beautiful in His glory. If all you see are drab colors, you just haven’t gotten close enough.

…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

The Marauder

4/24/2025 0 Comments

Our bird watching has spilled over into our camping trips. Somewhere along the way it dawned on us that we could see different birds in different areas of the country. So we began carrying small bags of birdseed and scattering it around the campsites. I saw my first savannah sparrow at Blackwater River, my first nuthatch at Cloudland Canyon, and on our latest trip, my first dark-eyed junco at Black Rock Mountain.
            That’s not all we saw. We had laid the seed along the landscaping timbers that both defined the site and kept our little aerie from washing down the mountainside. As long as we sat fairly still and talked quietly, the little gray birds with the white vests hopped closer and closer down the long chunk of weathered wood, pecking at the free and easy meal. Suddenly a loud crunch behind us caused the birds to fly. We turned and there sat a fat gray squirrel enjoying the free meal himself, and much more of it.
            “Shoo!” we yelled simultaneously. He reached down and pawed another kernel.
            Keith hopped up and spun around his chair, clapping his hands with every “Git!” and every step. Finally the squirrel hopped away, not nearly as scared as I wished.
            Since he was up anyway, Keith started the cook fire and I walked around the tent toward the back of the truck where we stowed our food supplies. There on the other side of the tent sat the squirrel, once again noshing on the birdseed.
            “Scat!” I shouted, running right at him. Again he turned and leisurely hopped away.
            After that we were up and around a bit and he kept his distance. But soon Keith had stepped back into the woods to pick up some deadfall for a later fire in the evening while he waited for the flame to die down to coals, and I was in the screen tent setting the table and prepping the chops for grilling. I looked up just in time to see that little marauder headed straight for the open screen door, gently waving in the breeze. He had bypassed the birdseed and was aiming to score people food.
            Only my clumsiness and advancing years kept me from vaulting the table. Instead, I ran around it, knocking both knees on the corner of the bench and nearly laming myself in the process, stomping, yelling, clapping, and every other noise I could manage. For once he showed a little alarm and scooted through the brush surrounding us.
            Keith returned and we both bustled around the tents, the truck, and the fire, cooking and laying out the meal. Half an hour later we sat down to inch thick, herb-rubbed, wood-grilled pork chops, Spanish rice, and skillet corn and red peppers. Meanwhile, the squirrel sat down to more birdseed. He crept up behind Keith, he crept up behind me. He hopped along the timber behind the fire, then tried the one behind the tent. Every time Keith jumped up and scared him off.
            After the sixth or seventh time that I touched Keith’s hand and pointed, he hung his head in defeat. “Let him eat,” he said, ferociously stabbing a fork into his chop and sawing with far more exertion than necessary, “so I can.”
            That’s exactly the way Satan comes after us. Do you need a Biblical example to believe this? How about Potiphar’s wife (Genesis 39)? She appealed to Joseph’s natural appetites first, by far the strongest appeal to a young man. She made it look rewarding—she was the Master’s wife after all, imagine the extra privileges he might have received. She spoke to Joseph “day by day,” a constant and growing pressure on him. Even though he seems to have made it his business to avoid her, finally she managed to catch him alone—now it was even easier to give in. And boy, did she make him pay when he didn’t.
            Satan is persistent. He comes from every angle and tries every trick.   Sometimes he comes as often as every few minutes. He will never give up. Even just fighting him will cost you—time, comfort, convenience, security, wealth, friends, freedom, maybe even your life. But if you give up, the cost is even worse. If you say, “Let him eat,” he will—he will “devour” your eternal soul, every last bite.

Be sober, be watchful: your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, prowls about, seeking whom he may devour…Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our wrestling is not against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world-rulers of this darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. Wherefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and, having done all, to stand…To that end keep alert with all perseverance…1 Peter 5:8; Ephesians 6:11-13, 18.

Dene Ward