Obstacle Course

5/13/2015 1 Comments

A long time ago when I was a young mother, a wise, older woman made me stop and think with a few words that might have sounded harsh, but which she couched with an attitude of love and concern.  I had not taken a meal to a sick or grieving family for a long time; I had not taught a children’s class for about a year; I had not had anyone in my home for several months; I hadn’t even sent a card or made a phone call for awhile.  I was a busy young mother.  I had laundry to do every day including piles of diapers that never seemed to diminish, meals to fix, a baby to nurse and tend and a toddler to care for and teach, and a home that needed putting in some sort of order if just so we could keep track of where we put things, like the bills that needed paying.  

    Had this woman had the same problems years before when she was a young mother?  I suppose so, but I never even thought about that—all I thought about was my own problems, all the things I needed to do, how tired I was, and how I could not possibly do any of those other things because of the demands of my family and home.  

    She knew all this, but she still asked this simple question.  “What if,” she quietly said, “God decided to help you out by taking away all of your excuses?”

    After a moment of shock, I suddenly saw my children and my home in another light.  Here I was claiming to love them more than anything else, while telling everyone what an obstacle they were in my life, maybe not in words, but certainly in deeds—or lack of them.  Yes, serving my family is also serving God, but isn’t it hypocritical to then turn around and use that service as a reason not to serve others?  The last thing in the world I wanted was for God to take them away from me, and I determined that they would no longer be the excuses I offered for not doing what I could.  

    No, I could not spend hours and hours away from them, nor several hours caring for others directly, but surely I could pick up the phone or write a note when the babies were napping.  Surely I could fix an extra casserole when I made one for my family, and send it with someone else to a home where a mother was too sick to do it and the father was out working all day.  Surely, I could find something I could do.

    I think something else happened to my attitude that day, too.  I was suddenly aware of all the things that needed doing for others, and looking forward to a time when I could, instead of sitting at home, selfishly wondering when I would ever have “me time” again.  My home was where I wanted to be, but I also knew that I wanted to be doing what I could for others, when I could, for as long as I could, just like that kind sister who taught me a lesson with a simple question.  

    What kind of excuses have already come out of our mouths today?  What if God took them away in the blink of an eye so we could do those things we claim to want to do “if only…?”

But he said unto him, A certain man made a great supper; and he bade many: and he sent forth his servant at supper time to say to them that were bidden, Come; for things are now ready. And they all with one consent began to make excuse. The first said unto him, I have bought a field, and I must needs go out and see it; I pray have me excused.  And another said, I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to prove them; I pray have me excused. And another said, I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come. And the servant came, and told his lord these things. Then the master of the house being angry said to his servant, Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in the poor and maimed and blind and lame... For I say unto you, that none of those men that were bidden shall taste of my supper. Luke 14:16-21,24.

Dene Ward

The Best Bologna Sandwich Ever

5/1/2015 5 Comments

When I was a very young teenager, we lived next door to a family with five children under the age of ten.  We were new in the area and didn’t know them very well, but we knew those basics.  
 
   One Sunday morning my mother was reading the newspaper over a last cup of coffee when I heard her gasp.  The paper slipped out of her fingers into her lap and onto the floor.  The father of the family next door had been killed in an automobile collision the night before.  

    She immediately dressed and walked over to our neighbors’ home to see what she could do.  About an hour later we left for worship services as usual.  While we were there she organized a food drive, asking individuals in the church to bring whatever shelf stable items they could spare on Wednesday evening.  Afterward we headed back home, but my mother wasn’t finished.

    We walked in to that wonderful Sunday aroma of pot roast.  Even after all these years, I have never been able to replicate my mother’s.  But instead of immediately changing clothes and starting to prepare our dinner, she grabbed an apron and started telling my sister and I what she needed us to do.  She made the gravy, heated the rolls, and then proceeded to pack up the entire meal.  We stowed it all in big cardboard boxes in the trunk and then drove to the home of the man’s parents, where his wife and children had gathered with the rest of the family.  I remember walking up the steps to that frame house, holding that hot gravy in a Tupperware container, careful not to squeeze too tight so the steam wouldn’t cause the lid to pop right off.  We handed our dinner to the stunned people inside, then offered condolences and drove back home.

    We came in, changed clothes and sat down to paper plates, bologna, and bread.  There was nothing else easy to prepare on short notice.  Understand this:  I hated bologna.  But I relished every bite of that sandwich.  Nothing had ever tasted so good.  That’s what giving does to you.  That is precisely why Jesus said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”

    I have often wondered if I have given my children enough of those kind of memories, lessons learned that you never forget, not even the smallest details.  Are you doing that for your children?  Do they see things that involve them and stay with them, teaching them the joy of giving to those in need, even if it costs you a little something.  

    I learned it the day I ate that sandwich and loved every bite of it and I have never forgotten that lesson.  And in case you wondered, our brothers and sisters in the church came through on that food drive.  We went to Bible study that Wednesday night expecting at most a couple brown grocery bags full to add to the one we brought.  I think we took three empties just in case to store the cans and boxes we expected to be handed.  Almost every member brought their own brown paper bag and nearly every one of them was full to the top.  

    We stopped next door on our way home, and carried those bags in that Wednesday night.  The new young widow watched in amazement as the four of us traipsed back and forth to the car, over and over and over.  We covered her table, her countertops, and half her kitchen floor with grocery bags.  That’s another sight I will never forget—her grabbing my mother around the neck and squeezing tightly as she said, “Thank you, thank you, oh thank you,” again and again and again, tears running down her cheeks.  It’s been over forty years, but it’s like it was yesterday as I sit here remembering.  

    Learn the gift of generous giving, giving even out of want, giving when it costs you something.  And above all, teach your children exactly how amazing a bologna sandwich can taste.

We want you to know, brothers, about the grace of God that has been given among the churches of Macedonia, for in a severe test of affliction, their abundance of joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part. For they gave according to their means, as I can testify, and beyond their means, of their own accord, begging us earnestly for the favor of taking part in the relief of the saints— and this, not as we expected, but they gave themselves first to the Lord and then by the will of God to us. Accordingly, we urged Titus that as he had started, so he should complete among you this act of grace. But as you excel in everything—in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in all earnestness, and in our love for you— see that you excel in this act of grace also. 2Cor 8:1-7.

Dene Ward

Raise Them

4/29/2015 0 Comments

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.

Our elders offer a thought and lead a prayer at the end of services.  Recently, one commended one of the young men (16?) who had led a prayer at the Lord’s Table earlier. He had not mumbled or rushed it, nor did he just repeat phrases he’d heard from others.

I was not surprised at his ability.  I had watched his mother with him during services from when he was a toddler.  He never had cars and cartoon books that I noticed.  She pulled him in her lap and ran her finger under the words of the songs from before he could read; she insisted that he treat worship as worship and not playtime and he grew up listening and singing.

Parents, fear if your child will not sing.

We had Bible story books that the boys got to look at only at services, or, they could draw, but only Bible stories and after services we would say, “Tell me about this one,” Later, they took notes.  When they got to freshman Bible at Florida College, they were amazed at the things that were being  taught “at college” as they’d known them for years. Maybe those students who were struggling to get “B’s” had Disney books and toys in church.  

Is it a wonder that they know a lot of Bible—one is a Bible professor at FC and the other is a Bible class teacher who does not have to take a backseat in discussions with his brother.

So far as I am aware, the mother above never heard us tell how to do it.  It should be obvious to anyone that God and church are special and you cannot teach that to your children with toys and comic books.  I have known some children who turned out just fine, but please think about what you do and what it is teaching them.  Don’t just try to keep them quiet.

Prov 22:6 Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.

Keith Ward

Just a Bunch of Stems

4/24/2015 0 Comments

My little boys used to bring me bouquets all the time.  Sometimes it was Queen Anne’s lace.  Sometimes it was a bright blue spiderwort.  Sometimes it was a rain lily or a stem of pink clover.  Sometimes it was just a dandelion bloom.  All of these are wildflowers, what any suburban lawn grower would call “weeds.”  Yet I put them all in vases of various sizes because they were all precious to me.  My little fellows had no idea the difference between domesticated flowers and wildflowers.  All they knew was “flowers.”

  But even they would never have gathered a bunch of them, ripped off the blooms and handed me a fistful of stems.  The problem with religion today, including some of my own brothers and sisters, is they value the stems and not the flowers. 

    A few months ago someone told me how listening to a certain teacher had made his day so much better.  I anxiously awaited the lesson he had heard, but he never once said a word about the content.  All I heard was the teacher’s name, at least three times, and how that person had made his day better.  What he had done was throw away the flower and put the empty stem in a vase of water to admire.

    I understand having favorite speakers and teachers.  Nothing makes me happier than to hear someone compliment my husband and my sons.  But none of them teach for the glory.  They teach to help people. If all people remember is their names, then they haven’t been much help, have they? 

    If I can’t tell you what a person taught me, did I learn anything, or was I just entertained for a few brief moments?  One of my favorite teachers isn’t much of an entertainer, but I always go away with a new way of looking at things, even things I have been looking at for decades now.  He makes me think, and he makes me see the possibilities.  He makes me want to go look at it again myself, and I often do.  He makes me examine my life in ways I never have and want to change for the better.  Can your favorite speaker do those things, or does he just make you laugh and feel good?

    There is absolutely nothing wrong with going to someone for help with your Bible study.  God did ordain the role of teachers in spiritual things (Eph 4:11).  He meant for us to have brothers and sisters we could go to with questions and problems.  Paul told Timothy to pass on what he knew to “faithful men.”  He told the older to train the younger.  But God also holds us individually accountable for what we do with what we hear.  “Work out your own salvation,” Paul told the Philippians, well after Jesus had already said, “If the blind lead the blind, they shall both fall into the ditch.”  It is up to each of us to be careful to whom we listen and to examine what they say against the Word (Acts 17:11).

    A good teacher doesn’t care if s/he receives praise or not—that is not his/her purpose.  All s/he does is hold up the Word of God and present it to you.  “What is the straw to the wheat?” God asks in Jer 23:28.  That word “straw” has several meanings according to Strong’s, and one of them is the wheat stalk, or stem.  Which is more important, God is saying, the stem or the wheat it holds up?

    I knew a man once who nearly tore a church up because he insisted on “his turn” to teach when not only was he a lousy teacher, he didn’t even know the Word of God accurately enough to teach it.  Clearly, it was all about the glory of teaching to him, and clearly he needed the admonition in Rom 12:3:  For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned.

    I know the temptation.  So did Paul.  I refrain from [boasting], so that no one may think more of me than he sees in me or hears from me. So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited, 2 Cor 12:6,7.  It shouldn’t matter to me what people say about my speaking or writing.  What should matter is how many I reach, how many are helped and encouraged and how many souls are saved.  And that is what should matter to those who listen and read too. 

    And do you know why this is so important?  If you value the who above the what, the straw above the wheat, the stem above the flowers, someday sooner or later you will be deceived into believing a lie.  Even good teachers make mistakes, and you might be deceived by an honest error too.  That is why James tells us in 3:1 that teachers will receive the “greater condemnation.”  Teaching is a responsibility, and anyone who craves the glory is manifestly unable to handle that burden.

    Most of the preachers and teachers I know will tell you the same things I am now.  If you want to make me happy, then use what I give you, remember it and grow.  Share it with others who might need it.  Even if you forget where you got it, just pass the good news along.  That is what really matters.  Give them a bouquet of flowers, not a handful of stems.

For if anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself, Gal 6:3.

Dene Ward

Making Choices

4/2/2015 3 Comments

We live in Florida.  So does Mickey Mouse.  When my boys were in school, it seemed like every other year the school decided a “field trip” to that Orlando park was in order.  (Whatever happened to “field trips” to the firehouse or the water plant or the art museum?)  You sent $40 to the school--this was 25 years ago, remember--and your children got on a bus at 6 am, which drove up to the park and unloaded about 9 am.  At 3 pm, the kids climbed back aboard and came home.  Meanwhile, you had also sent at least $15 more so they would not go hungry.
    We were on a tight budget and, as adults, we could easily see that the scant amount of time there was not worth the money.  So we spelled it out carefully and gave them the choice—no more of these so-called field trips.  Instead, if they wanted to, we would save money for a year and “do it right.”  Four nights in the Disney campground (the hotels were out of the question), complete with all the transportation around the park and free Disney movies every night at an outdoor theater with park benches to sit on.  Four 4-day park passes and supper one night in the castle, plus all the special shows they never had time to see before, like the Main Street electrical parade and the laser show at Epcot, and a souvenir of their choice at any park shop. 
    What made the choice difficult?  For the next three years, when their classmates piled into the buses, they stayed behind.  Usually I showed up at the school to take them out for “early dismissal,” but the next day they endured questioning about why they did not go to Disney with the rest of the group, and listened to the stories about all the fun they had. None of their classmates ever did understand, even when the boys told them the whole story.  Why not do both? they wanted to know.  It is always hard to tell your friends that you are not as well off as they are, especially when you are young and don’t really understand it yourself.  Yet the boys thought about it, and made the choice.  “Doing it right” was by far better, they decided. 
    So we saved for a year, all of us.  The boys picked up aluminum cans and coke bottles, and even set aside birthday money, which we had encouraged grandparents to send instead of gifts—they knew the plan.  $700 later, we had the vacation of a lifetime, and the boys felt even better because they had helped pay for it.  Don’t tell me that having Cinderella lean over you during dinner is unimportant to a twelve-year-old boy.  You have never seen such bashful blushing in your life.
    Growing up is all about learning to make choices.  If you miss that valuable lesson, you may face a life of misery that could have been avoided.  Learning to weigh options, both their pros and cons, is the key.
    Just think about sin for a moment.  Sin is pleasurable or it would not be a temptation.  But weigh the choices.
    A life of purity will give you a renewed mind, Eph 4:22-24.  A fresh, optimistic outlook on life can get you through a world of trouble. 
    The decision to remain pure will lead to better relationships with those you deal with and the self-respect that comes with self-control, 1 Thes 4:1-8. Self-control is not a prison—it is freedom from things that rule your life; it is you making the choices not your appetites.  That is empowering.
    Pure living will give you not only the hope of a life to come, but hope for the life now too, 1 Tim 4:7,8.  It promises you that God will never forsake you, Heb 13:4-6, and will cause others to glorify God, 1 Pet 2:11,12.  And talk about comforting—living a pure life leaves you unafraid to stand before God and give an account of it, 1 Pet 4:1-5.
    And the other option?  Let’s see, a life of impurity could give you STDs along with ensuing pain and infertility and possible death, cirrhosis of the liver, ulcers and other stress-induced conditions, a suspended driver’s license, a criminal record, a broken home and family who won’t talk to you any longer, fair-weather friends who leave when you need them the most, a ruined reputation, financial ruin caused by alimony and child support payments, and gambling debts you can never repay, not to mention those eternal consequences which include facing the wrath of God, Col 3:5-11, and the second death, Rev 21:8.
    Hmm.  Doesn’t really sound like such a difficult choice to me.

By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter; choosing rather to share ill treatment with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season; accounting the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt: for he looked unto the recompense of reward, Heb 11:24-26.

Dene Ward

A Beautifully Made Bed

3/19/2015 0 Comments

I well remember my children’s first attempt at making their beds.  They were so proud of their accomplishment, one I had not even asked them to do, that they came running to get me, and took me to their room by the hand.
    There were two twin beds, indeed all made up.  The bedspreads hung lopsided, the hem at the head end barely reaching the edge of the bed and the hem at the foot end folding down over itself onto the carpet.  Under it, the sheets and blankets sat in piles and rolls, making the bedspread top look like it was laid over Lilliputian foothills. One of the spreads was particularly “off,” and I was momentarily at a loss to figure out the problem.  At the foot, the bottom sheet showed in a line one to four inches wide.  Since the top barely reached the headboard and it was not neatly tucked in under the pillows, that should not have been.  Then I realized what was wrong--the whole bedspread was on sideways.
    “Amazing!” I gushed.  “What a fine job you have done.”  For indeed they had—for a four- and six-year-old who had been given no instruction at all  
    The next few mornings I asked if they would like to learn some hints that would make bed making easier.  Easier?  Of course they would, because it had not taken long for the new to wear off this activity and for it to become simply a chore.  So they learned how to make a bed properly, and in time they did reasonably well.
    Now imagine if they had shown me that first made bed when they were 14 and 16.  Do you think I would have lavished any praise on them?  I would have expected a much better eye for detail, and much more care in technique.  That does not mean I was lying when I told them at the earlier age that they had done a fine job.  They had done a fine job for their age and experience.
    Now how about us?  How old am I as a child of God?  But—and here is the crux of the matter—how old do I act?  How much have I learned and grown, and does it show in the way I behave every day of my life?
    We needn’t expect the same praise God would give a babe in Christ if we have been Christians for 20 years.  If we have been Christians longer than that, we should have made even more progress.
    Make no mistake, God does love his children, but He has expectations as well.  I must do my best for my Father, trying harder and harder to get better and better.  If my “bed making” is still at age 4 level when I have spent 44 years as His child, He will not be pleased.  And if I love Him, working to get better is not too much to ask.

…till we all attain unto the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a full-grown man, unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ: that we may be no longer children, tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men, in craftiness, after the wiles of error; but speaking truth in love, we may grow up in all things into him, who is the head, Christ; Eph 4:13-15.

Dene Ward

Nursery Tales

3/17/2015 0 Comments

I was a lucky young mother.  When my babies were small, I worshipped with church families that had no nurseries.  I did not realize at the time what a blessing it was.
    When Lucas was a baby, we met with a small congregation that rented a union hall.  The union must not have been very popular.  At the end of a narrow hall was the only room big enough for meeting together, and thirty of us filled it up.  Five of us were nursing mothers, and since that was over half the families in the congregation, the men agreed that we should be able to simply step out of the room to get ourselves situated, then come back in to sit and listen to the sermons or Bible classes while we nursed our babies.  New babies have a tendency to nurse for long periods of time.  We might have missed a full hour if these men had not been so mature-minded, and we ladies gratefully learned early how to stay modest while nursing.  I doubt anyone walking in would have even known what we were doing.
    When Nathan was a toddler we had moved to a place with an actual meetinghouse.  It was an old building way out in the country with absolutely no modern conveniences except electric lights, and certainly no nursery.  You walked in the door and there you stood in the open auditorium.  That meant when you had to deal with unruly children, you dealt with them and then came right back into the assembly.  
    So why do I think I was lucky?  Because I did not have the source of temptation that so many young mothers must deal with today.  When you have no choice, there is no temptation.  Young mothers today must be much stronger than I ever had to be.
    I gleaned advice from several older women during those years.  My mother, for instance, was happy to tell me about how she foiled my attempts to ruin her worship services.  I always acted up and she would take me to the nursery—she lived in the city.  Finally, when I was 18 months old, she realized that she had not trained me, I had trained her—all I had to do was wiggle and squeal a little and I got to go play!  The next Sunday, she took me, not to the nursery, but outside, and applied her hand to my bottom in a less than comforting way.  Then she marched me right back into the auditorium.  She said I looked at her with outrage, as if to say, “This is NOT how it works!  You broke the rules!”  But I was not a stupid child; I learned the new rule quickly:  being taken out of the assembly is not a pleasant experience.
    I went to visit her once at this same meetinghouse.  Suddenly, my baby needed a diaper change and needed it then.  To have stayed sitting there any longer would have broken the commandment to “Love thy neighbor.”
    So I got up and took my twenty-month-old to the nursery.  I was stunned when I walked in.  Several young mothers, and a few who looked like grandmothers, were sitting in there chatting away.  A playpen had been placed in the middle of the room, full of toys.  The side of the playpen was lowered and each baby was sitting around it, reaching in and playing with both the toys and each other.  Could the women see the preacher?  Yes, there was a large picture window in front of them.  Could they hear the preacher?  Well, there was a speaker on the wall, but their talking and laughing drowned it out.
    After the diaper change, I got out of there as quickly as I could.  I recognized the siren call immediately.  I had dealt with two babies at once, while their father preached.  We never lived close to family so I never had a grandparent to help out either.  It was often tiring, frustrating and embarrassing to try to train my children to behave in the assembly.  To have a place to go where I would no longer have to wrestle with them, where they could play and squeal to their heart’s content, would have been wonderful.  But it would not have taught them how important the group worship of God is, how precious the rituals we follow, how much it meant to me and therefore how much it should mean to them.
    Being a parent is not for the weak of heart, mind, or body.  You are on duty 24/7 and you must do what you must do no matter what else is going on in your life.  Children will not wait.  You cannot easily “unteach” what you later wish you had not taught.  I would give anything to undo a lot of the mistakes I made, but it just won’t happen.  In the end you hope you did more right than wrong, and that those right things were more lasting and impressive.  
    Think about what you do, when you do it, and how.  Think about what those little eyes see and those little ears hear.  Think the most about what those little minds infer from what they see and hear you doing.  Your children aren’t stupid either.  Whatever it is you do, when you do it, it stays with them the longest.

And [Hannah] said, "Oh, my lord!  As you live, my lord, I am the woman who was standing here in your presence, praying to the Lord.  For this child I prayed, and the Lord has granted me my petition that I made to him.  Therefore I have given him to the Lord.   As long as he lives, he is given to the Lord.”  And he worshiped the Lord there, 1 Sam 1:26-28.

Dene Ward

"Oh No!"

2/23/2015 2 Comments

I have already introduced you to my grandson Judah and his literary hero, Pete the Cat.  (Click on “Children” on the right sidebar and scroll down to “Read the Buttons!” if you missed it.)  When anything bad happens to Pete he says, “Oh no!”, and now that is one of Judah’s favorite phrases, with his special little two year old inflection.  The last time we visited, we must have heard it a hundred times.
    When he found one of his toys in the wrong place, “Oh no!”  When his Mr Happy figure fell over, “Oh no!”  When he dropped his cookie, “Oh no!”  When a bean fell off his spoon, when his shoelace came untied, when his wind-up toy train stopped chugging along—all of these merited a loud and pained, “Oh no!”  Everything was a catastrophe for little Mr. Drama King.  But at least he paid attention to his world and he cared what happened in it.  Can we say the same thing about our spiritual world any more?    
    I remember when every member of the church could quote scriptures.  I remember when we all knew the basic Bible stories.  I remember when we understood that Truth was absolute and that our acceptance of and obedience to it determined our eternal destiny.  I even remember when you converted other people by showing them that their denomination’s practices and beliefs were not Biblical.  They would do their best to prove you wrong.  Now no one cares.  They don’t have a clue what they are supposed to believe, and neither do we.
    Now anyone who has questions about a statement from the pulpit, about a teaching in a Bible class, about the words of a new song is judged as having his knickers in a knot, as if it were something of no importance. His upset is inappropriate and unwelcome. He needs to “just calm down.”  He finds himself the object of scorn and ridicule, his concerns swept aside as the foolish rantings of a crochety, usually older, narrow-minded alarmist.  Never mind that this older person has seen things like this before and their inevitable results.  Never mind that he has the wisdom of perspective that the younger not only do not have but cannot have.  He—or she--is not respected, and never listened to.  His “Oh no!” has become the expected song for him to sing and so goes in one ear and out the other.
    God told the prophet Ezekiel that he was to be a watchman for his people.  He was to sound the alarm when he saw the enemy approaching.  Those people thought Ezekiel was crazy too.  After all, who else but a lunatic would lie on his side and dig in the sand, depicting the siege of Jerusalem for day after day after day?  Who else would not speak a word unless it was given him from God for week after week after week?  Who else would pull out a handful of hair, throw some of it to the wind, tie some in his robe, and then stand hacking at the rest of it with a sword?  None of that wacky behavior made what he said false.  God told him that when the people wouldn’t listen—and He knew they wouldn’t--their blood was on their own heads.  
    Maybe it’s time we listened to a few alarmists.  Maybe the alarm is legitimate.  At least they are paying attention while we often go along accepting anything anyone says (or sings) just to avoid trouble.  Maybe someone needs to holler, “Oh no!” once in awhile.  And maybe we need to care as much as they do.

As I urged you when I was going to Macedonia, remain at Ephesus so that you may charge certain persons not to teach any different doctrine, nor to devote themselves to myths and endless genealogies, which promote speculations rather than the stewardship from God that is by faith…For there are many unruly men, vain talkers and deceivers…whose mouths must be stopped; men who overthrow whole houses, teaching things which they ought not… 1 Tim 1:3,4; Titus 1:10,11.                

Dene Ward

I Got Purple

2/13/2015 0 Comments

We did some more babysitting last month, and the first afternoon that we picked up Silas from kindergarten, he came rushing out to the car shouting, “I got purple!  I got purple!”
    In his school every child starts the day on green, and his behavior moves him either up the color chart to blue and ultimately purple, or down the chart to yellow, orange, or red.  Red means mom and dad have to come in for a serious talk.  Usually all the obedient, well-behaved students end up on blue, and everyone is perfectly satisfied with it.  But purple?  Purple takes something extra-special.  It is the height of achievement for a student.  No wonder he came out running, shouting, and grinning a smile as wide as our windshield as we watched him through it.
    Why is it that I can’t have the same glee, the same sense of accomplishment and exhilaration when I overcome a temptation or grow out of a bad attitude?  Why don’t we all come running to share the good news with one another?  I’ll tell you why—because we are a bunch of judgmental grumps that’s why.  Two things are going to happen if anyone opens his mouth about these things.
    First, someone is going to gasp and whisper to another, “You mean he has trouble with that sin?”  We can’t share our accomplishments when we are afraid people will look down on us, will lose respect for us, and will probably gossip about us at the first chance they get.  “Did you hear about so-and-so?  Did you know he has these problems?”
    Second, someone else will puff out his chest and say, “Tsk, tsk.  Let him who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall!”  We can’t share our successes without someone thinking they have to knock us down a peg because of our “pride,” as they so hastily judge it.  
    In both of these cases, shame, shame, shame on us!  Those are unscriptural, even sinful attitudes.  Gossip, which is nothing less than slander, is included in that horrible list of sins at the end of Romans 1.  And what in the world do we think it means to “Encourage one another?”  It means when a pat on the back has been earned, give it!  Don’t hoard it with the self-righteous notion that we are doing what is best for the person’s soul—“wouldn’t want him to get the big head.”  Would you do that with your children?  Would you never praise them for their successes, but only criticize their mistakes?  
    AA doesn’t do it, and God doesn’t do that either.  And the LORD said to Satan, “Have you considered my servant Job, that there is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil?”  Job 1:8.
    The Psalms are full of statements by people of God who know they have done right.  The LORD dealt with me according to my righteousness; according to the cleanness of my hands he rewarded me. For I have kept the ways of the LORD, and have not wickedly departed from my God. For all his rules were before me, and his statutes I did not put away from me. I was blameless before him, and I kept myself from my guilt. So the LORD has rewarded me according to my righteousness, according to the cleanness of my hands in his sight, Psalm 18:20-24.
    Don’t tell me it’s because the Old Testament people did not understand grace and were all about “earning” their salvation by keeping the Law.  “Do not say in your heart, after the LORD your God has thrust them out before you, ‘It is because of my righteousness that the LORD has brought me in to possess this land,’ whereas it is because of the wickedness of these nations that the LORD is driving them out before you. Not because of your righteousness or the uprightness of your heart…Deut 9:4,5.  O my God, incline your ear and hear. Open your eyes and see our desolations, and the city that is called by your name. For we do not present our pleas before you because of our righteousness, but because of your great mercy, Dan 9:18.
    Those people knew they had not earned God’s love and mercy, but they also knew when they had done well in keeping His commandments.  Why do we think it’s a sin to recognize that?  The apostles didn’t.  I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing, 2 Tim 4:7,8.
    When my grandson came running out that day I could easily have told the difference between arrogance and joy.  Why can’t we tell the same thing about one another?  Why can’t we share victories over Satan and expect others will be just as happy about it as we are?  God wanted us to know we were saved; he wanted us to be confident in our destiny. I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God that you may know that you have eternal life, 1 John 5:13.
    I’ll tell you this, if we are going to “become as little children” and so inherit the kingdom of heaven, we had better stop acting like peevish, petty grown-ups.  With that sort of behavior we will never be able to run down the streets of Heaven shouting, “I got purple!”

Let them shout for joy, and be glad, that favor my righteous cause: Yea, let them say continually, Jehovah be magnified, Who hath pleasure in the prosperity of his servant, Psalm 35:27.

Dene Ward

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Playing in the Rain

1/23/2015 0 Comments

When our boys were small, on summer days when a soft, warm rain fell, they often asked if they could go outside and play in it.  I was reminded of those sweet days last spring when our grandson Silas did the same thing.  
    He put on his swimming trunks and headed outside, first just running a few steps out, then racing back in under the carport.  Gradually he ran further and further, eventually out to the old water oak stump some thirty feet from the house, stood there a minute hopping up and down, holding his arms out to present the most skin to the sky, and laughing uproariously.  
    He must have gone at it for ten minutes, running back to the carport and excitedly jabbering, “It’s wet!  It’s cold!  It’s fun!” then running back out into the rain even further, eventually to the swing hanging from the live oak limb out past the well.      
    But it was still spring and his little chin began to quiver, and all too soon we had to take him in and dry him off.
    Do you know what started all this?  Pure, unadulterated joy.  He and his little brother had been with us for five days while Mommy and Daddy were out of town, and although we had a great time, when they drove up that afternoon, it was clear who were most important in his young life.  They were back and before long they would take him in his own car seat in his own “blue car” to his own home and his own room where he could sleep in his own bed.  I know the feeling.
    But life may have made me forget that feeling of pure joy.  
    Despite the troubles of life we always have real reason for joy, and God expects us to show it.  David had that joy, and he expressed it before the people of Israel as they brought the Ark of the Covenant to his newly captured capital city. But he was married to someone who didn’t have it, and who did not understand.  She scolded him and received this reply:
    [It was] before Jehovah, who chose me above your father, and above all his house, to appoint me prince over the people of Jehovah, over Israel: therefore will I play before Jehovah, 2 Sam 6:21.
    .Do you see the word “play?”  David was out there “leaping and dancing before Jehovah.”  That’s how he was playing.  That Hebrew word is found in Job 40:20, “the beasts play in the field.”  You will find it in Prov 8:30 and 31 where it is translated “rejoicing,” and in Job 5:12 where it is “laugh.”  The same attitude that had Silas laughing and playing in the rain had David playing before Jehovah--joy.      
    When was the last time you felt that way about God and your relationship with Him?  I think we are a little like Michal—too embarrassed to act like God means that much to us.  We are too conscious of ourselves and how we look, and far too worried about what other people think.
    If I am too embarrassed to show the Lord how much He means to me, I wonder, on the day He comes to pick us up and take us home, if He might be too embarrassed to act like we mean that much to Him.

Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, I Pet 1:8.

Dene Ward

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