I don’t know what we would have done without hand-me-downs. 
            Lucas survived his infancy on borrowed baby clothes, but that young mother soon needed them again so there were no tiny clothes to pass down to Nathan.  At that point we were living by a children’s clothes factory and could go to the outlet store and buy seconds for as little as fifty cents each.  Each summer and each winter I dug my way through a mountain of irregulars and managed to find three shirts and three pairs of either shorts or long pants, according to the season.  Sometimes the colors were a little odd, like the “dress” shoes I bought for Lucas when he was two—maroon patent leather with a beige saddle—but they covered his feet for $1 and no one was likely to mistake them for another child’s shoes.
            Then, just as they reached school age, we found ourselves in a church with half a dozen little boys just three or four years older than they.  Suddenly my boys’ closet was bursting.  They were far better dressed than I was, and they had even more waiting to be grown into.  They didn’t mind hand-me-downs and neither did our scanty bank account.
            Keith and I have followed suit.  Probably 75% of my clothes are hand-me-downs, and the rest I picked up at consignment shops and thrift stores, with only a handful of things I bought new, always off a clearance rack.  Keith has more shirts than he could wear in a month—we didn’t buy a one of them.
            When you get a hand-me-down, sometimes you can’t wear it as is.  Sometimes it’s my own personal sense of taste, meager though that may be.  Sometimes it’s a size issue.  I have been known to take up hems or let them out if the giver was taller or shorter than I.  I almost always remove shoulder pads.  I have wide shoulders for a woman and shoulder pads make me look like a football player in full gear.  If the collar has a bow, a scarf, or high buttons, those go too—I hate anything close around my neck and it makes my already full face look like a bowling ball.  So while I gratefully accept those second hand clothes, I do something to make them my own.
            Which brings me to handed-down faith.  Being raised in the church can be both a blessing and a curse.  Being taught from before you can remember means doing right becomes second nature.  There is never any question where I will be on Sunday morning because I have always been there.  There is never any question what I will do when it’s time to make a choice that involves morals or doctrine.  There is never any question about my priorities—my parents taught those to me every day of my childhood, both in word and deed.
            Yet God will not accept any faith that is not my own.   Yes, He was with Ishmael for Abraham’s sake, Gen 17:20; 21:13.  To those who are dear to His children, but who are not believers, God will sometimes send material blessings, 39:5, and physical salvation, 19:29, but He will not take a hand-me-down faith until it becomes personal, Ezek 18:1-4.  I have to reach a point where I know not only what I believe, but why, and that faith must permeate my life as I lead it, in every situation I find myself in, in every decision I must make, but at the same time come from my heart not habit.  If I have not reached that point, what will I do when my parents are gone?  Will my faith stand then?  Or will I be like Joash, who did just fine as long as his mentor Jehoiada the priest was alive, but fell to the point of killing his cousin Zechariah, a prophet of God, when he was finally left on his own? (2 Chron 24) 
            Pass your faith on to your children, but your job doesn’t end there.  Help them make it their own.  Let them tear out those shoulder pads and lengthen those hems.  It really isn’t a compliment to your parenting skills if all they can do is mimic you while you are still alive to keep tabs on them.  You might in fact be limiting them by demanding exact conformity to every nuance of your own faith.  Their faith could very well soar farther than you ever thought about if you let them fly.
            But the real test comes when you are gone.  Can you rest well with the job you have done?
 
I think it right, as long as I am in this body, to stir you up by way of reminder, since I know that the putting off of my body will be soon, as our Lord Jesus Christ made clear to me. And I will make every effort so that after my departure you may be able at any time to recall these things. For… we have something more sure, the prophetic word, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts, 2 Peter 1:13-15, 19.
 

It’s been over three decades now.  Things have always been tight for us, but that particular time was the worst.  Through no fault of his own, Keith was in between preaching jobs, making ends meet with a couple of part time jobs and two or three preaching appointments a month, while finishing up his degree on the GI Bill.  I had a twenty-month old, was five months pregnant, and battling both an ulcer and gall stones.  Every month we pulled the belt a little bit tighter.

              I had $20 a week to spend on groceries—period.  Even in that day it was only about half what others spent, even those who thought they were living closely.  I bought one piece of meat or poultry a week and made it last four or five days.  A whole chicken (19 cents a pound) provided the breasts for our one splurge meal that week—we actually had a whole chunk of meat on our plates.  The next day I used the thighs for a casserole of some sort, and with enough filler like rice or noodles it lasted two nights.  Then I boiled the backs, wings, and neck in a huge pot of water as a base for chicken and dumplings, a copious amount of dumplings, for another two night meal.  The other two nights that week we filled up on meatless meals—cheese omelets, pancakes or waffles, black beans and rice, pinto beans and cornbread, lentil soup, or on really tight days—biscuits and gravy, the gravy using only bacon drippings, flour, and milk.  Don’t ever judge a person’s wealth, or even their self-control, by their girth.  Poor people food is fattening food.  Only the economically comfortable can afford fresh fruits and vegetables, whole grains, lean meat, and fish.

              Besides learning to stretch a dollar, I also learned to eat more slowly.  My little boy may have been a toddler, but he still needed to eat to grow.  I gave him the small plateful I thought he could eat, but often, when he asked for “more,” the only “more” was on my plate.  I had already rationed Keith to the point that I worried that a grown man working that many hours a day had enough to survive.  So I willingly scraped off what was left on my plate onto my child’s.  I was more than happy to do that for him.  When we chose to have these children, we automatically took on the responsibility to feed them and care for them, even if it meant we didn’t eat.

              I am afraid I am seeing parents who don’t believe that any more.  I know many fine young Christians who automatically sacrifice for their children, but the world doesn’t seem to think that’s normal.  Have you looked at the magazine rack in the grocery store?  Have you heard the discussions with people who think that everyone but they themselves should pay for their child’s basic necessities?  But let’s keep this personal instead of political.

                “I’m so tired.”  “I’m so stressed.”  “I don’t have time for me any more.”

              No, you don’t.  Yes, it’s exhausting, it’s frustrating, it’s completely overwhelming.  That’s what happens when you take on the care of a completely helpless human being.  That’s what you signed on for when you decided to have a child.  That’s the commitment you made when you decided to enjoy the act that might produce that child.

              You may not have as much time to primp and preen as you’re used to.  You may go weeks or months without being able to enjoy your favorite pastime or hobby.  You may go seven years without a single new article of clothing because any pennies you can squeeze out of the paycheck go to the three shirts, three pairs of pants, four pairs of underwear, four pairs of socks, and one pair of shoes you must buy for a growing child every six months at yard sales, outlets, and consignment shops.  You may even scrape the food off your plate. 

              That’s what loving, responsible parents do, and they never begrudge the sacrifice, especially not the time, because one day, far too soon, you wake up and it’s over.  No more babies to rock, no more stickers to put on the potty training chart, no more little fingers in the cookie dough.  You’ll have all the time in the world for yourself—your career, your hobbies, your hair appointments and shopping sprees—but no amount of wishing will give you back the time you could have spent teaching, training, nurturing and loving your children into a happy, productive adulthood, and they will probably pay for that neglect in one way or another.
 
Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate. Psalms 127:3-5
 
Dene Ward

I think I saw it the first time during the Olympics coverage and it rankled immediately.

              "Fearless kids aren't born; they're made," says the new Universal Studios ad.  And how are they "made?"  Evidently, if you send your children to that amusement park, you will make them strong, fearless, and brave.  Are you kidding me?

              While it is true that fearless kids are not born, we are a pretty sad lot if we think turning them over to these folks will make them fit for a life that usually has its share of tragedy and hardship.  On the contrary, too many of our kids who are raised on amusement parks and entertainment in general tend to think themselves "entitled"—entitled to fun and toys of all sorts, even if it bankrupts the family or destroys any semblance of family time.  Then when the inevitable hardship occurs, they turn into unstable mush. 

             I would hope that Christian parents know better.  The Bible tells us how to be fearless, and it also tells us that it is our responsibility to raise those souls God has entrusted to us and no one else, certainly not Universal Studios.
You start by teaching them about God.  God is your shield, Gen 15:1, you tell them.  He is your light, your salvation, your stronghold, Psa 27:1.  He will not leave you or forsake you, Deut 31:6.  How can you be afraid when you know that?

               You are important to Him, important enough for Him to give His Son to save you, John 3:16.  He offers you redemption Isa 43:1.  He finds you valuable, Matt 10:31.  Like Daniel, if you remain true to him you are "greatly loved," Dan 10:19.  When was the last time you neglected something that valuable to you?  Never, probably, and that's the way it is with God, too.
He will hear your prayers, Dan 10:12, and he will bless you, giving you a hope others in the world do not have, 1 Pet 3:14.  Why should you "fear their fear" 1 Pet 3:14?

           Then you set the example yourselves.  Act like someone who is fearless, someone who trusts God in every situation, even when you do not understand and things look grim.  Show your child trust, show him courage, show him that you believe all those things you have been telling him all his life, and act like someone who isn't afraid of anything.  You aren't afraid because you know where you stand with God, and that is the key.  Why be afraid of anything else in this life if you know who is on your side, and where you are going when it's over?

             No amusement park in the world can make a fearless kid out of your child.  Only you can.  If you want to go there for a visit, that's fine, but don't fall for the guff.  You are the one God will hold accountable.
 
Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. (Isa 41:10)
 
Dene Ward

We put up several new feeders recently, along with some new bluebird houses and a couple of small birdbaths.  We hoped to increase both the numbers of birds visiting us, as well as the varieties, and we succeeded.  The very first day our usual birds had multiplied and there on the ground was a new one.  It didn’t take long to find him in the bird books I have—a brown-headed cowbird.

              The cowbird is a member of the blackbird family, and it is easy to think him some sort of blackbird.  That brown head is not obvious at a distance.  He stretches 7 to 8 inches from head to tail, glossy black with a chocolate brown head and a pointed gray bill.  Cowbirds do, however, have a negative trait—they lay their eggs in the nests of other birds, then go off and expect that bird to raise their young.  Sometimes the host bird will destroy the unfamiliar eggs, but far more often, they will raise the cowbird nestlings, often neglecting their own.  Cowbird chicks are so much larger than the hosts’ chicks that they take most of the food and leave the others hungry.

              Do you know what they call birds that steal nests and abandon their young to others?  Parasite birds.  I had never thought of it that way, but it is a legitimate biological classification.  Cuckoos do it.  Wood ducks do it.  In fact, about 750 species of birds do it.

             Humans wouldn’t do that, would they?  We wouldn’t ignore the sanctity of marriage between one man and one woman, breaking up a home at will just because “I want him now,” or “I don’t love her any more.”  Why can’t I steal someone else’s nest if I want it?

              I have things I want to do, a career that makes me important.  I’m not made for taking care of children--I shouldn’t be saddled with these kids.  Why can’t the government raise them for me?  Why can’t I hire someone to do the dirty work?  Why can’t I lay my eggs in someone else’s nest and expect them to be responsible for my children?

              Why do I have to work to support my family?  Why should I have to control my physical hungers?  Why can’t I live as I want and not have to bear the responsibility of what follows?  Why can’t I deposit my burdens in someone else’s lap to pay for and tend to?

              I wonder if biologists have a class of human called “parasitic.”  “Entitlement” comes to mind; “selfishness” as well, not to mention “irresponsibility.”  God holds us accountable for our lives, for our health, for our families, for all the privileges we claim, especially in the most blessed society in the world.  He expects us to exercise self-control.  He expects us to be mature in our choices and responsible for them.  He expects us to be considerate of others in those choices too.

              Now that I have about 95% of you agreeing with me, let’s take it one step farther.  What about Christians who deposit their children in Bible classes and expect the church to teach them?  Sometimes parents will see that the child does his lesson, but sometimes the teachers are lucky if a workbook accompanies a child at all, much less one that has been well-studied and filled out.  The Bible tells us that parents are to teach their children, not the church.  It is certainly commendable to take them to Bible classes, but the example they see many, many more hours a week at home is the one that they learn from.

              The brown headed cowbird is one of the most disapproved of birds in the avian world.  Why is that we think the same sort of behavior, in any of its manifestations, should be acceptable, even applauded, in ours?
 
But understand this, that in the last days there will come times of difficulty. For people will be lovers of self, lovers of money, proud, arrogant, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without natural affection, unappeasable, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not loving good, treacherous, reckless, swollen with conceit, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power. Avoid such people. 2 Timothy 3:1-5
 
Dene Ward

In case you haven't figured it out, I love for our grandsons to visit.  My house is a wreck, my schedule is shot, I live on chicken nuggets and mac and cheese and watch either Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or Paw Patrol.  The laundry piles up and sometimes the dishes, which is a real mess because I don't have a dishwasher to hide them in.  I sit by the plastic pool being splashed on purpose and loving it, or egg on the mudfights, perfectly happy to clean up the resulting mess.  I help build highways in the ever present Florida sand, chase rocket sling shots as they scream through the sky, throw flimsy balsa airplanes into loop-de-loops, and push a swing till my arms want to drop off.  Isn't that what grandmas are supposed to do?

              I fall into bed every night utterly exhausted, but still listening for the whimpers of bad dreams or the cries of a sick tummy from too much homemade chocolate sauce on the ice cream, and get up and run whenever necessary.  Sleeping late is not an option, but who would want to anyway?  Every day is another chance to build those memories and instill those values with a Bible story every night, a memory verse picture card, a Bible game, or craft.  And then there is this.

              Every morning I lie there still in the mists of sleep when suddenly I am pelted by a soft, well-worn stuffed tiger—Lucky, if you remember—then a fairly new crocheted and stuffed Minion (ask your grandkids), and finally a blanket (Leo, by name) slowly unfurling as it flies through the air like the flying scroll in Zechariah's vision.  Our bed is high off the floor, and a toddler cannot possibly climb in without both hands to pull up by.  So after the pelting ends, the bed begins to shake and a little blond head begins to rise over the sides of the mattress, little hands persistently pulling on the sheet, little grunts of exertion sounding with every pull.  I reach down and pull on a pajama bottom waistband, giving him just the impetus he needs to climb on to the top, then burrow under the covers next to me.  I snuggle against the warm little body, the scents of bubble bath, baby shampoo, and lotion wafting up around us in the body heat.  When his head hits the pillow he rolls away from me only to scoot quickly backwards so I can spoon him and wrap him with both arms.  We are both back asleep in less than a minute.

              At least until the next set of footsteps comes in, heavier and faster, a boy whose head is already higher than the edge of the bed, who can fairly easily scale the billowy mattress and bedclothes and who, already knowing from longer experience that he is more than welcome, clambers right on in all the way over me, and snuggles down between me and his Granddad.  The game of "Wake up Granddad" ensues, giggling at the pretend growls and grumbles, growing louder with each attempt, until finally we are all good and awake and ready to begin the long day of play again.  Do you think I begrudge the sleep?  You know better than that.

              Yet knowing all of that, we sometimes act like God would begrudge the attention we ask of him, apologizing for bothering him "when there are more important things" for him to do.  Just like there is nothing more important than my children or grandchildren's welfare, there is nothing more important to God than ours.  Understand:  that does not mean he will always say yes to his children any more than I always say yes to mine.  That does not mean that there may not be things we will never understand in this world, nor maybe even in the next.  But you are important to God.  He revels in the relationship you two have.  How do I know?  Look what he sacrificed to have it.

              And don't you believe in his infinite power?  I may have to leave things undone in order to spend time with Silas and Judah.  God never has to leave things undone.  He can do it all, including the piddly little things we sometimes beg for while still keeping the earth spinning on its axis and the sun rising again and again.

              If you haven't climbed into the warm bed of love and compassion that God feels toward you, don't blame God.  He wants you there.  He will help pull you into the safety and comfort of his arms.  He won't begrudge a minute of it—unless you do.
 
I waited patiently for the LORD; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the LORD. (Ps 40:1-3)
 
Dene Ward

Too many times we studio teachers teach only the instrument, piano and voice in my case, and neglect the other things that make one a well-rounded musician—history, theory, ear training.  So for my students I made up history notebooks focusing on one particular composer each year containing articles, worksheets, and listening labs.  When the makeup of the studio suddenly increased to 40% voice students, I decided to make a notebook with them in mind, one on opera.  Besides, even piano students needed to know about opera.

              I began with worksheets on the history of opera and types of operas.  Then we moved on to study the stories of 5 different operas, followed by a listening lab on one of the more famous arias from each opera.  I live in a rural county.  The closest thing to opera any of these students had ever seen or heard was their grandparents’ reminiscences of Minnie Pearl and the Grand Ol’ Opry.  The answers I received on many of the listening labs often made me laugh out loud and taught me a lot about perspective.

              “Nessun dorma” from Turandot:  (All the recordings were in the original language of the opera.)  On the question, “Describe the melody,” a 6 year old wrote, “Sounds Italian to me.”  How could I argue with that?
              Another question attempted to point out the emotion in the singers’ voices by asking, “Where in the music do you think he sings, ‘I will win!  I will win!’?”  Though it was in Italian it was obvious; even the 6 year old got it.  But one 10 year old thoroughly misunderstood the question and wrote, “I don’t know, but he was so loud, he MUST have been outside somewhere.”

              “La donna mobile” from Rigoletto:  “What are the main difficulties of this aria?”  A 9 year old answered, “He’s trying to get a woman, but can’t.”

              We could not have left out Carmen, though presenting this less than moral character to children took a bit of discretion.  We listened to the “Habanera,” which is, in reality, a dance.  “Carmen likes to flirt a lot.  How does the fact that she is singing to a dance make it sound ‘flirty?’”  A 9 year answered, “It shows she’s pretty smart if she can sing a dance!”

              Because the majority of my singers were 14-16 year old girls, I chose Charlotte Church’s recording over Maria Callas’s version of Carmen.  Charlotte was only 15 at the time and I felt they could better relate to her.  However, this brought about the question, “How is her ability to sing this character likely to change as she gets older?”  Talk about perspective, a 9 year old boy wrote, “She’ll soon be married and she’d better not be flirting with other men!!!!”  But a 16 year old girl wrote--now remember Charlotte was only 15 on this recording--“It won’t be long till she is so old she won’t even remember how to flirt any more.” 

              Was this notebook successful?  When I took up the final exams I wondered.  The first question was “Define opera.”  An 11 year old wrote, “A type of music for men and women where you sing real LOUD.”

              But I also had them write, both at the beginning of the study and at the end, what they honestly thought about opera.  One 14 year old was very tactful at the beginning of the year when she wrote, “I think people who can sing it are very talented.”  But at the end of the year she wrote, “If this is opera, I really like it.  And I learned not to ever say I don’t like something when I don’t really know anything about it.”

              I wonder how many people approach the Bible that way?  They believe it to be a book of myths, a storybook, only a suggestion for how to live, anything but the Word of God when they have absolutely no personal knowledge on the subject.  They have never considered the evidence; they have never made comparisons to other ancient writings that are far less convincing.  We have only 643 copies of Homer’s Iliad but over 5700 copies of the scriptures, and no one ever questions the completeness and accuracy of that Greek epic.  We believe George Washington existed and became our first president.  Why?  Because of eyewitness accounts, the same type of accounts available in historical documents about Jesus.  Even people who accept Jesus as the Son of God, question the validity of the New Testament because it was a translation, yet Jesus himself quoted a translation of the Old Testament, one about as far removed from him in time as the New Testament is from us, and all this barely skims the surface of internal and external evidences validating the Bible.

              My students learned a valuable lesson the year we studied opera:  don’t judge until you check it out yourself.  If you are wondering about the Bible, about Jesus, and even about the existence of a Creator, the only logical and fair thing is for you to do that too.
 
For the word of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us who are saved it is the power of God. For it is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, And the discernment of the discerning will I bring to nought. Where is the wise? where is the scribe? where is the disputer of this world? hath not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For seeing that in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom knew not God, it was God's good pleasure through the foolishness of the preaching to save them that believe. 1 Corinthians 1:18-21
 
Dene Ward

But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing. (Jas 1:22-25)

              How many times has the above passage been used in sermons and articles?  I think I have even used it myself, at least once if not more on this blog.  We must constantly look at ourselves in the mirror of God's word and then we will see all of our faults and be able to fix them, right?  I recently had an experience that made me stop and rethink all of that.

              We had the privilege of keeping our grandsons for a while, and had taken them to their favorite eating joint.  Silas sat across from me in the booth and we were discussing school or piano or something of the sort.  He leaned down to get a sip of his soda then looked right at me and said, "Grandma?"

              "Yes?" I encouraged.

            "You have two different eyes, don't you?  One big eye and one little eye."
 
             It took a minute for me to realize what he meant.  So then I explained that I had very sick eyes (which is exactly what one doctor called them), and that the "little eye" had needed so many surgeries that I couldn't hold it open as well as I could the other one.  He was perfectly satisfied with the explanation and we went on to talk about other things.

              That night I looked in the mirror, wondering where was this "little eye" that he saw.  I had never noticed that much difference.  That's when I realized that every time I looked in the mirror I only looked at the other eye.  It has had surgeries too, and it is also "sick," but it has not been medically abused as much as the other.  When I made myself look at both eyes I was actually startled.  Since I always focus on the other eye, I had never really noticed exactly how different the two eyes look.

              Don't you suppose the same thing can happen when we look in the mirror James spoke about?    Simply looking in the mirror is not enough when we only look at the good we do and refuse to look at the very sick parts of our souls, the parts that really need spiritual medicine.

              So here is today's challenge:  don't just look at the big eye; focus on the little one, the one you really need to see.  I can't fix my "little eye," but you can fix yours right up, if you are brave enough to really look at it and honest enough to change.
 
How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother's eye. (Luke 6:42)
 
Dene Ward

I used to wonder why Mary, Queen of Scots, was beheaded.  I never knew the whole story and to me she was always a victim, never a criminal.  Now I know better.
              Mary ascended to the throne of Scotland in 1549 when she was 6 days old.  She was educated in the courts of France and returned to resume her place as monarch at the age of 17, already a widow.  In 1565 she married her English cousin in order to reinforce her claim to the English throne after Elizabeth's death.  But over the next couple of years she became a focal point in several plots to overthrow Elizabeth, and Elizabeth was forced to put her under house arrest, even though she counted her a friend.
              In 1586 a major plot to kill Elizabeth was uncovered and Mary was found complicit and beheaded on February 8, 1587, thanks to the discovery of a coded letter she sent to her co-conspirator Anthony Babington. 
              Codes have been used at least as far back as Julius Caesar, who used a simple alphabetic code.  Mary's code was the type called "frequency analysis."  It depends upon the number of times certain letters are used in the language.  In English, E is the most common letter, T the second most, and A the third, etc.  By looking at the message, the cryptologist can crack the code when he sees how many times certain symbols are used.  They tell me it's simple math.  Well, math maybe, but not necessarily simple to me.
              On the other hand…  
            Before he was a year old, Silas started talking.  Sometimes I knew what he was saying and sometimes I didn’t.  For some reason he said, “Bear,” over and over and over.  He and another toddler at church carried on quite a conversation across the aisle with just that one word.  But there was no question at all what he meant when he looked across the room, spied Brooke, then smiled, held out both arms and said, “Mamamamamamama,” as he toddled across the floor.  No, he was not saying, “Mama.”  He was saying, “There is the most important person in the world.”  Then he looked at Nathan, pointed to the ceiling and said, “Up!”  No, that didn’t mean, “Pick me up.”  It meant, “Throw me up in the air as high as you can,” something he loved for his daddy to do.
              Mothers can decode better than anyone.  When Lucas was eleven months old, he had already been walking five or six weeks.  He often padded to the refrigerator, hung on to the door, and said, “Dee.”  That meant, “I want a drink, please.”  Nathan, at thirteen months, would hold out his biscuit half and say, “Buuuuh.”  (Pronounce that like the word “burr” but without the “r,” and draw the “u” out as long as possible.)  That meant, “Please put more butter on my biscuit so I can lick it off again.”  Needless to say, he only got a little dab of butter at a time.
              Marriages have special codes too.  “Are you wearing that?” could mean a lot of different things, depending upon the marriage.  In some it means, “I don’t like that outfit.”  In ours it means, “Oh, so I guess I can’t wear my blue jeans, huh?”  Relationships may be about communication, but that does not mean they are about hearing; they are about knowing what the words you hear mean.  Sometimes people decide they mean what they want them to mean instead of what they really do mean, and that can lead to all sorts of problems.
              Jesus is a specialist in decoding our words.  “He who searches the reins and the hearts” (Rev 2:23) can figure it out, no matter how awkwardly we phrase things.  We don’t have to worry about being eloquent in our prayers, about saying something that might be misunderstood or taken the wrong way.  People may do that, but our Lord never will.  He partook of humanity so he would understand the stresses we undergo and the turmoil they create in our minds.  He knows that things sometimes come out wrong, not because we are selfish or mean, but because we are anxious and distressed.  Isn’t that when we find ourselves talking to Him the most?
              Make a relationship with Him that will calm your worries.  Know that He is listening to your heart, not the inept words you sometimes utter.  Don’t worry about eloquence, just talk.  Let your prayers be a comfort to you today, not another source of worry.  That’s how a real relationship works.
 
Who shall lay anything to the charge of God’s elect? It is God who justifies, who is he who condemns?  It is Christ Jesus who died, yes rather, who was raised from the dead, who is at the right hand of God, who also makes intercession for us…For there is one God, one mediator between God and man, himself man, Christ Jesus, Rom 8:33,34; 1 Tim 2:5.
 
Dene Ward

(This will make a lot of more sense to you if you go to http://www.flightpaths.org/denes-blog/bussenwuddy, and read it first.)

              I told you awhile back about our first overnight with our grandson Silas.  It was fun, it was sweet, it was exhilarating, and it was a little frustrating at times when we weren’t sure what he wanted. 

              The “bussenwuddy” nearly got us.  Luckily I had cared enough to listen to the things he talked about to recognize “Buzz” and “Woody” from the Toy Story DVD.  Good thing I was the one listening.  Buzz and Woody could have been next door neighbors as far as Keith was concerned.  When you are profoundly deaf, you don’t casually pick up on bits and pieces of conversation or those things “everyone knows.”  You don’t immediately recognize normal words for all that.  No wonder he was lost.

              How well do you hear God?  Even if you recognize the words, do you know enough to make the correct associations and figure things out?  I know people do not know their Bible enough to be familiar with apocalyptic language when they turn the beautiful promises of the book of Revelation into some futuristic Armageddon between political nations (which, have you noticed, change with every generation’s “interpretation,” which ought to tell them something).  I know they don’t care enough to study carefully the entire communication God gave to us when they come up with ideas a real disciple can shoot holes through with half a dozen scriptures off the tip of his tongue.

              But how are we doing?  I hear more faulty exegesis from brethren these days than I do from my neighbors.  Taking things literally that are obviously hyperboles simply because they cannot comprehend a Lord who cared enough to come as one of us, speaking as one of us, including the use of hyperboles and humorous comparisons; refusing to see the obvious parallels between elements of the new covenant and those of the old because they have decided that “nailed to the cross” means don’t ever even look at the Old Testament again, much less study it; spending so much time fighting the heresies of mainstream denominationalism that they miss the important fundamentals of a sure hope and a grace beyond measure—these are just a few of the problems.

              What do you think of when you read “Christ in you, the hope of glory” Col 1:27?  Does the Shekinah even cross your mind, that physical manifestation of God’s glory that dwelt over the mercy seat?  Or is it just another “bussenwuddy” that eludes you, and robs you of a greater, more magnificent promise than you ever imagined?  I could go on.

              Knowing God’s word, not just superficially, but deeply, can lead to a greater understanding and a more heartfelt faith.  Facts may seem cold, but without them you are missing a lot.  You cannot make connections.  You cannot take your understanding to a deeper level.  You cannot see parallels and applications that will make your life more acceptable to your Father.

              Take the time to learn those facts.  How do you think you will ever come to a better knowledge of God if you don’t know what He said?  All it will be is a “bussenwuddy” on deaf ears.
 
For who knows a person's thoughts except the spirit of that person, which is in him? So also no one comprehends the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God. Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, that we might understand the things freely given us by God. And we impart this in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual truths to those who are spiritual. The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him, and he is not able to understand them because they are spiritually discerned. 1 Corinthians 2:11-14
 
Dene Ward

This guest post is by Helene Smith from her blog MaidservantsofChrist.com

Today, I have 7 tips for Christian parents to help their kids develop thankfulness in their daily lives. 

1. Work: Kids who work learn to be grateful.  For one they understand the effort that goes into other people’s work.  Waitresses, janitors, police officers, cashiers and parents are easy to disregard if you have no experience with the work it takes to do their job.  So give your kids ample opportunities to empathize. Give them daily chores appropriate to their age; let them participate in a family business; let them have a part time job; take them to work with you, or to job-shadow in the community.  Don’t let idleness develop into a lack of gratitude for the work done around them. 

2. Service: There are a myriad of opportunities (especially for homeschool kids) to reach out and do community service.  Summer and the holidays are great times to volunteer.  Charity fun runs and youth mission trips are great summer activities. Volunteering to wrap presents for an angel tree or serve a holiday meal to the underprivileged provide a chance for kids to help others.  Year round permanent volunteering positions are especially helpful because your children can connect with the people they serve. We sing hymns at our local nursing home.  My 9 year old knows the elderly there by name; she prays for them when they are sick and gets and gives enormous amounts of love and attention.

3. Provide perspective (not guilt):  Let’s abandon the cliche, “Clean your plate!  Don’t you know there are starving children in Africa!” Instead let’s provide kids with perspective.  When we  lived abroad my (then) tween had lots of opportunities to see the body-wracking results of famine and malnutrition.  These weren’t distant people to whom she could potential feel superiority or even pity.  These were our dinner guests. My younger daughter doesn’t have this opportunity but our family gives a little money in keeping with our small budget to a school in Africa.  It really isn’t a lot but it ensures that a child or two there gets a free education, exposure to the gospel, and a warm meal a day.  It doesn’t hurt my 9 year old to see me write that check and talk about that this little bit of money is staving off hunger and malnutrition in a child just like her.  Again I am not suggesting you use other people’s misfortune as a club. Just provide your children with perspective about their blessings!  

4. Excess: Overheard recently at our local high school: 
Teenage Boy: Our maid is so irritating.  Every time she comes to clean she puts my deodorant under the sink.  Why can’t the stupid (insert entirely unsuitable word) remember to leave it alone?
Second boy: You have a maid?!
            As the first young man exemplifies gratitude is a tough lesson even or especially when we have an enormous amount to be thankful for! When we provide excess in our kids lives, it makes them not only less thankful but also less happy.  In order to help them be grateful, we may need to back away from some of their blessings.  Reducing the number of toys, the number of hours of TV, the number of activities, the number of lavish birthday parties, the number of times you eat out has unexpected benefits. Not only will it be better on your budget, health and the life of your family, but it will also help your child be happier, more thankful and better adjusted.  Not sure?  Consider the differences in Ebenezer Scrooge and the Cratchit family.

5. Budgeting: I have a wise friend who gave his tweens what felt like to them an excellent budget in their own account.  He gave them cards so they could withdraw money.  And then when they asked for something extra, he made them spend the money he gave them for that purpose.  Suddenly trips to Starbucks took a nose dive.  Again my suggestion here isn’t to force kids to worry over whether or not their parents will make the car payment or the power will be cut off. But it is worthwhile for a child to have a set amount of money and budget their wants and needs out of it.  

6. Expressing gratitude: One way to cultivate gratitude is to notice then express the good.  This starts with pointing out to your child what you have to be grateful for close to home.  “Hey, look!  Dad came out early and defrosted my windshield!  Wasn’t that thoughtful.  Let’s text him and say thanks!” Modeling gratitude includes regularly thanking them when they do well! We can incorporate thankfulness into their and our regular prayers.  Thank you notes, small homemade gifts, and the simply noticing what others do can be a great encouragement to them.  Be creative and encourage them to look for opportunities to be grateful!     

7. Develop a theology of gratitude: Consider having your children memorize one of the following scriptures on gratitude:  Colossians 3:15-17, 1 Chronicles 16:8-11, or 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18.  Or print out a copy of Ephesians 1 and have them underline each blessings we have in Christ.   Sing songs at home that emphasize our thankfulness. Try this simple song if you need a place to start!

May God bless you and your children with His contentment, His joy and every spiritual blessing in Christ Jesus.  May you learn to be thankful in every circumstance and how to give the blessing of thankfulness to the little people God gave to you!

Helene Smith
maidservantsofchrist.com