In the last few years, my life has really slowed down.  I am no longer able to teach piano and voice lessons because I cannot read the students’ music well enough, especially when it comes to sightreading aria and concerto accompaniments.  This means fewer teachers’ meetings, and no more competitions to prepare for, sweat over, and pray about--I had the usual bunch of cardiac kids who waited till the last minute to pull it off.

My jog has also become a walk, at times with a big sturdy walking stick to steady myself when I stumble over something I did not see.  Even something as harmless as a pine cone has taken me unawares at times, rolling beneath my feet.

It isn’t true that your other senses become better when one fails.  Your hearing doesn’t improve, nor do your taste buds suddenly wake up.  But you do learn to use them more, and that makes them seem like they have improved.  So I am suddenly paying more attention to the birds on our property when I am outside. 

Though I cannot always see them, I have learned many of their calls, and can now identify quail, doves, owls, whippoorwills, hawks, blue jays, crows, titmice, wrens, woodpeckers, and hummingbirds—and I don’t mean the pecking and humming of the last two, but their actual vocal sounds.  And now that I recognize all of those, the ones I have not yet identified are more distinct when I hear them.  There is one out there that sounds like a bad flutist.

My son thinks it is pretty amazing when I say things like, “There’s a wren in the live oak outside your old bedroom window.”  But would I know where it was if I could not hear it?  What is the most amazing thing of all is that my Heavenly Father knows where each and every bird is whether it sings or not.  And that means He knows where I am, both physically and spiritually.  He knows, not just because He is able to know, but because He cares to know.  And that is the greatest security a child of God can have.  “Yes for me, for me He careth.”

Are not five sparrows sold for two pence?  And not one of them is forgotten in the sight of God  But the very hairs of your head are numbered.  Fear not.  You are of more value than many sparrows.  Luke 12:6,7

Dene Ward

This business of treating small dogs as fashion accessories strikes me as a little barbaric.  I’m surprised PETA hasn’t stepped in and complained.  Of all people, they should take offense at an animal being treated as an inanimate object.

I understand loving an animal.  I have cried at the loss of every dog and cat we ever had.  I planted flowers on Magdi’s grave, one that blooms all summer and one that blooms spring and fall.  The only time I can’t look out the window and know at a glance where she lies is the middle of winter.  But she had her place and it wasn’t in my purse.

Some people treat pet peeves as if they were real pets, live creatures that must be fed and cared for.  In fact, feeding is a good word for the way they nurture those peeves at every opportunity.  Understand, I am not talking about matters of sin and morality, but things we like or don’t like, opinions we hold about certain behaviors, and even matters of courtesy.  Courtesy is usually a cultural notion, not one of moral right and wrong.  It may bug me to death to be in an elevator with someone yelling into a cell phone, but I doubt it will send him to hell.

If it is possible, so far as it depends upon you, live peaceably with all, Rom 12:18.  Nowadays, when our culture is calling on us to take a stand on things we used to take for granted, it is even more important that we not raise a fuss over the inconsequential.  “Choose your battles,” we often say, something parents must learn so their children won’t view them as prison guards but as wise guides instead.  We need to learn that in regard to pet peeves too.

When you take that unpopular moral stand, no one will listen if all you have done before is rant about minor things at every opportunity.  No one will care what your opinion is or how well you back it with facts when they are used to tuning you out.  If, on the other hand, you have always been fair-minded, cool-tempered, and tolerant of others’ social gaffes, making allowances for them without even being asked, when something comes along that actually causes you to stand up and speak, they are far more likely to pay attention—and consider.

It is also important to stifle those pet peeves with your brothers and sisters in the Lord.  Be at peace among yourselves…seek peace and pursue it…suffer wrong [for the sake of peace]…be one…so that the world may know you have sent me, 1 Thes 5:13; 1 Pet 3:11; 1 Cor 6:7; John 17:22,23.  God could not have made it plainer that how we get along with one another affects far more important things than our own personal agendas.  Today we must be as tightly bound as the threefold cord spoken of in Eccl 4:12.  We need one another when the world turns against us and labels us “hateful” simply because we exercise our American right to disagree and, much more important, our Christian obligation to speak out.  If my reputation precedes me as an irrational ranter who isn’t worth listening to, it isn’t just myself I am hurting, but the Lord and His cause.

I must stop tending those pet peeves as if they were pedigreed pooches, when all they are is a crack in my armor.  Who do you imagine rejoices the most when I lose it over a trifling matter of preferences?  The Lord or Satan? 

We are all sojourners on the same trip, stopping for a night at a second rate motel.  No pets allowed.

A fool’s wrath is known at once, but the prudent ignores an insult…a fool utters all his anger, but a wise man keeps it back and stills it…love covers a multitude of sins, Prov 12:16; 29:11; 1 Pet 4:8.

Dene Ward

Every dog we have ever had has loved a good belly rub, but Chloe seems to have taken it to another level.  It isn’t just that she begs for a belly rub, it’s that she thinks God put her here to have her belly scratched, and that scratching her belly may be the only reason He put us here.

A few people seem to have the same opinion about themselves and the church.  The only reason God instituted a church is to pander to their every need.  It seldom seems to cross their minds that other people have needs as well, and that those needs may be even more critical than theirs.  Chloe wouldn’t care if the house were on fire if she saw us running outside.  She would still scamper up, plop herself on the ground and roll over—isn’t that why we came outside, to scratch her belly?  A Christian who thinks he is the center of the universe is behaving the same way.

Others think the only reason God put them in the church was for the church to listen to them.  They never ask a question in a Bible class, or offer a comment to stimulate discussion and deep thinking.  Instead they have all the answers and are happy to tell you exactly how things ought to be done, even things that are not specifically spelled out in the scriptures.  They know best.  It amazes me when these are people new to a congregation, who don’t yet know the background and experiences of the people they are trying to advise, often including elders, or who are in their mid-twenties with little life experience behind them.  Kind of reminds me of Chloe who thinks a belly rub is appropriate any time of day, any place, even while you are trying to shoot a rattlesnake that she obviously has not seen.  But she knows best, Boss!

Then there are the ones who think their feelings, or the feelings of a family member, are all that count.  The church is supposed to pussyfoot around and never offer exhortation or criticism that might “offend” by our definition of the word.  They think they are put here to be stroked and petted and “have their belly rubbed” regardless of what might be happening to their souls.  Reminds me of that passage about people “whose god is their belly”—nothing matters at the moment but how they feel.  I am not about to let Chloe roll over on her back in the middle of a garden row I have just planted that is supposed to help feed us this year, no matter how much it hurts her feelings for me to tell her, “No!”  Some things are more important than her feelings, and if she were my child instead of my dog, I would explain that to her rather than let her do as she pleased and cost us a few hundred dollars worth of groceries. 

So what do you do about people like that?  You do the same thing the Lord did for you when you were still that immature and selfish.  You tolerate, you teach, you show them a better way with the example of your own service and willingness to accept abuse or take on responsibilities that are not yours but that you do because they need doing and you are there.  You love them in a way they don’t deserve and yes, you rebuke when necessary and hope they won’t act childishly and run off to play somewhere else, where everyone will scratch the belly they offer, and let them be the only ones who matter and the only ones worth listening to.

The Lord did all that for us, and he expects us to do it for them.  Some day maybe they will learn to be better than a silly little dog who thinks the world is here to scratch her belly.  Didn’t you?

And we exhort you, brethren, admonish the disorderly, encourage the fainthearted, support the weak, be longsuffering toward all. 1Thes 5:14

Dene Ward

I have nearly lost count of the number of eye surgeries I have had.  After each one, it takes awhile to get back into the swing of things.  One of my regular activities is walking and after an eye surgery, the challenge is to see where I am going.  I use an old rake handle as a walking stick to steady myself when I stumble.

My 6 year old red heeler, a type of Australian cattle dog, has figured out that I have some sort of a problem, and she has become my “protector.”  When our neighbor to the west came down a few weeks ago with his brush-hog to mow the majority of our 5 acres, I was out walking.  Magdi usually walks the first lap of six on my 1/2 mile plus loop, scares up all the critters—especially the snakes—then sits in the shade, watching, while I finish.  That day, she stayed with me for the entire walk, and any time I got within 100 feet of the tractor, she went after that mower with a vengeance.  We were afraid she would get hurt, so I altered my walk to stay on one side of the property and the neighbor worked the other half until I finished.  Then my canine bodyguard retreated under the porch till the next time I came outside.

One Saturday, I was walking while Keith used the little rider on the acre we keep mown around the house.  Every time our paths started to intersect, she would charge across the field from wherever she happened to be, cut between us, and bark and nip at his wheels, even though she is scared to death of the mower, and runs from it otherwise.  (I wonder if she thinks it has already eaten Keith.) 

Today, another neighbor was using his brush-hog on his side of the south fence, and we passed one another three or four times along the fence while I walked.  Magdi headed for him every time we got close and barked and jumped at the fence until I was safely by.   Then she followed after me, and stayed at my heels until the next lap brought us back to the fence, where she repeated her performance.  Once he lifted the front bucket right at her, and she slowly rose on her hind legs, barking even louder, till he put it back down.  The way my forty pound red-headed protector takes such good care of me warms my heart, especially since she is so afraid herself of those vicious green monsters that inhabit our fields and woods!  I don’t know how she knows that I am not quite up to par, but she is making it her business to watch out for me.

As heartwarming as all that may be, it is nothing compared to the assurance I have that my Heavenly Father looks out for me.  The evidence I have in the past few years alone is amazing, but all I have to do is open His Word to see the most astonishing care of all—He gave His Son for my soul.

For I am persuaded that neither death, not life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.   Rom 8:38, 39.

Dene Ward

Wrens are known for building nests in odd places and we have a couple who have proven the point. They can’t seem to help themselves when it comes to building nests.  And fast?  In less than an hour they are ready to set up housekeeping.   Anything that is left open and alone for that amount of time is fair game.

We’ve found nests in boxes of empty mason jars in the shed, and on the lawn mower seat under its protective tarp.  We’ve found them on the bristles of the push broom which hangs upside down near the ceiling of the carport.  We’ve found them in roof gutters, and draped plastic sheeting.  We’ve found them in flower pots, tomato vines, and empty buckets.

We usually buy dog food in 50 lb bags at the feed store and keep it stored in a large plastic garbage can in the shed.  We carry Chloe’s daily allotment in an old three pound coffee can, which we then shove sideways on the handlebars of the old exercise bike until the next day’s feeding.  Last month we found a wren’s nest in that can, obviously built after Chloe had been fed the day before, hanging precariously, rocking in the breeze. 

Immediately Keith duct-taped it more securely to the handlebars so it couldn’t be blown or jostled off, and found another old can to use for Chloe’s feed.  It has become something of a joke now—remember to put up the [whatever] before the wrens find it.

This doesn’t happen just once a year.  The mother wren incubates the eggs for about 2 weeks and then both parents feed them until they can fly, about two weeks later.  Often, the last few days of feeding, the father takes over completely so the mother can start another nest.  In our climate, they often build a third nest after that one.  They are like little nest-building machines—wherever they can, whenever then can.

Isn’t that the way we should be about the gospel?  Too many times we’re out there making judgments about where to sow the seed instead of strewing it about everywhere we can.  We decide who will and who won’t listen and worse, who we deem “worthy” to hear.

That certainly isn’t what Jesus did.  He taught dishonest businessmen and immoral women.  He taught the upper class and the lowest of the low.  He taught the diseased and the disabled, as well as the hale and hearty blue collar workers.  He taught people who wanted to hear and people who just wanted to make trouble for him.  Shouldn’t we be following his example?

Too many times we worry about the reception we will get.  When Jesus sent out the seventy, he didn’t say, “If you don’t think they’ll listen, then shake the dust off your feet and go elsewhere.”  What he said was, “If they don’t listen,” which means everyone had a chance to decline if that is what they chose to do.  We can’t seem to stand the possibility of rejection, not an auspicious trait for disciples of the one who was “despised and rejected of men.”

We should be like wrens, speaking about our faith anywhere, even the most unlikely places, to anyone, even the most unlikely people.  Over and over and over, like we can’t help ourselves, like our lives depended upon it, because maybe they do.

Therefore I testify to you this day that I am innocent of the blood of all of you, for I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole counsel of God.  Acts 20:26-27.

Dene Ward