Silas has started talking.  Sometimes I know what he is saying and sometimes I don’t.  For some reason he says, “Bear,” over and over and over.  He and another toddler at church carry on quite a conversation across the aisle with just that one word.  But there is no question at all what he means when he looks across the room, spies Brooke, then smiles, holds out both arms and says, “Mamamamamamama,” as he toddles across the floor.  No, he is not saying, “Mama.”  He is saying, “There is the most important person in the world.”  Then he looks at Nathan, points to the ceiling and says, “Up!”  No, that doesn’t mean, “Pick me up.”  It means, “Throw me up in the air as high as you can,” something he loves 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

Funny how you can think you are so prepared and then find out otherwise. 

            We were going to pack our bag that week, three weeks early, “just in case.”  But at 7:30 pm, August 10, 2009, Nathan called to tell us we needed to have it packed “Now!”  Our grandson had decided to make his arrival nearly four weeks early.  So we threw things into a bag and ran out the door, dishes sitting unwashed in the sink, bills left unpaid, the baby gift still “in transit,” though I had ordered it in plenty of time for a delivery I expected to be four weeks away.  I even had to grab dirty clothes out of the hamper to wash when I got there so I would have enough to wear the week I stayed.  So much for thinking we were prepared.  Silas Andrew Ward, who made his debut early on August 11, showed us we were not.

            We all prepare for things every day.  That’s why we plan meals and make grocery lists, shop the back-to-school sales, and have retirement plans.  So why do we so often fail to prepare the most important things, our souls? 

            I find myself wondering if, despite our protestations otherwise, we don’t truly believe. When we are young, we don’t really believe we will die, at least not any time soon.  There is plenty of time to prepare.  The death of a young friend may shake us for awhile, but how long does that last?  Let me tell you, when you finally get to that age you never imagined yourself being, you will understand exactly how short your life is and how blessed you are to still have a chance to prepare. And just as it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment, Heb 9:27.

            Maybe we don’t really believe in the reward.  I think that may be a bigger problem than not believing in the punishment.  We think the biggest pleasures we will ever have are here and now, and that is solely because we only have the here and now to judge by and Satan banks on that, reinforcing the notion every chance he gets with our culture, the media, and the people around us.  If we really believed that the reward is far better than anything we could possibly enjoy here, we would try even harder to prepare ourselves for it.  And without faith it is impossible to be well-pleasing to Him; for he who comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of those who seek after Him, Heb 11:6.

            The thing about preparation is you never know when you will need it.  You wear the seat belt just in case.  If you knew you were going to be in an accident, wouldn’t you go another way, or simply stay put?  Likewise, we never know when God will call us home.  You cannot make a reservation for a specific date, then confirm it with a call 24 hours ahead.  You simply prepare for something you know will happen some time in the future, and never underestimate how soon that may be.  Isn’t it foolish not to be ready?

Take heed, watch and pray: for you know not when the time is. It is as when a man, sojourning in another country, having left his house, and given authority to his servants, to each one his work, commanded also the porter to watch. Watch therefore: for you know not when the lord of the house comes, whether at even, or at midnight, or at cockcrowing, or in the morning; lest coming suddenly he find you sleeping. And what I say unto you, I say unto all, Watch.  Mark 13:33-37.

 

Dene Ward

(For hints, help, and instructions on using this blog, click on the FAQ/Tutorial page on the left sidebar)

            My grandsons love playing in the park.  Their city yard is postage stamp small without room for two active boys to run around much, so they enjoy a place with swings, slides, jungle gyms and seesaws. 

            Seesaws may be fun at the playground, but they are not God’s idea of ideal service.  Yes, we may falter once in awhile.  Many passages speak of faith in flux, but as we mature in that faith, the flux should become smaller and smaller.  David speaks of the opposite of a seesaw faith, even when he is running for his life in Psalm 57:7.  “My heart is steadfast, O God,” or, in several other versions, “My heart is fixed.”  In a time of fear when others would have wavered, David is able to keep his faith in God steady. 

            So the question is, how do we avoid the seesaws in life?  First, let’s make it clear—you can’t avoid the park altogether.  I hear people talking about life as if it is always supposed to be fun, always easy, and always good, and something is wrong when anything bad happens.  Nonsense.  We live on an earth that has been cursed because of man’s sin.  When God curses something, he does a bang-up job of it.  To think we would still be living in something resembling Eden is ridiculous. 

            We are all dying from the moment we are born.  Some of us just manage to hang on longer than others.  Some of us catch diseases because they are out there due to sin and Satan.  Some of us are injured.  Some of us have disabilities.  Some of us are never able to lead a normal life.  It has nothing to do with God being mean, or not loving us, or not paying attention to us one way or the other, and everything to do with being alive.  Everyone receives bad news once in awhile—it isn’t out of the ordinary.  Everyone experiences moments of fear and doubt.  We all go through trials.  But just because you are in the park, doesn’t mean you have to get on the seesaw.

            We must have a steadfast faith no matter what happens to us.  “The Lord is faithful; He will establish you…” 2 Thes 3:3.  Our hearts can be “established by grace,” Heb 13:9.  But those things are nebulous, nothing we can really lay our hands on in our daily struggles.  Am I supposed to just think real hard about God and grace and somehow get stronger?  Yes, it will help, but God knows we are tethered to this life through tangible things and He gives us plenty of that sort of help as well, help we sometimes do not want to recognize because of the responsibility it places upon us to act. 

            We must be willing to be guided to that steadfastness by faithful leaders, 2 Thes 3:3-5.  We must be willing to obey God’s law, James 1:22-24, and live a life of righteousness, Psa 112:6, before steadfastness makes an appearance.  We must become a part of God’s people and associate with them as much as possible, Heb 10:19-25.  We must study the lives of those who have gone before and imitate their steadfastness, laying aside sin if we hope to endure as they did, Heb 12:1-2.  Every one of those things will keep us off the seesaw.

            To change one’s life and become part of God’s people, the church—for some reason those are the very things the world will laugh to scorn.  It preaches a Jesus who “loves me as I am” without demanding any change, and divides His body from His being, labeling it a manmade placeholder for the true kingdom to come.  “I can have a relationship with God without having a relationship with anyone else,” we say, and promptly climb aboard the seesaw, Satan laughing gleefully at us from the other end.  Guess what?  That’s who we are having a relationship with.

            Get off the seesaw now before he has you sitting so high up on it, your legs dangling beneath you, that you are unable to reach the grounding your faith needs.  You may still have moments of weakness and doubt, but those things will grow less and less if you make use of the help God has given you.  You can have a steadfast faith, even if it finds you hiding in a cave from your enemies.  “My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast…For your steadfast love is great to the heavens; your faithfulness to the clouds.”

Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain. 1 Corinthians 15:58.

Dene Ward

(For hints, help, and instructions on using this blog, click on the FAQ/Tutorial page on the left sidebar)

            Keith had major surgery this past spring and because of his profound deafness I was with him in the hospital as caregiver 24/7.  We don’t do real sign language, but it is easier for me to communicate with him after 40 years of gradually adapting to his increasing disability.  People who are not used to it simply do not know how, and reading lips is not the easy fix to the problem that most think.

            Unfortunately, this hospital stay coincided with the garden harvest.  The beans, squash, and cucumbers had already begun coming in.  While we were away that week, those vegetables continued to grow.  When we got home, the beans were a lost cause--thick, tough, stringy and totally inedible.  The squash looked like a brass band had marched through, discarding their bright yellow tubas beneath the large green leaves, and the cucumbers as if a blimp had flown over in labor and dropped a litter.  If we expected the plants to continue to produce, I had to pull those huge gourds.  That first morning home I picked and dumped 8 buckets full.

            Gardens are taskmasters.  They don’t stop when it doesn’t suit your schedule.  They don’t wait till you have a free moment.  You must reap the harvest when it is ready or you lose it.  Every morning in late May and early June I go out to see what the day holds for me.  Will I be putting up beans or corn or tomatoes?  Will we have okra for supper or do I need to pickle it?  Are the jalapenos ready for this year’s salsa?  Are the bell peppers big enough to stuff or do I need to chop some for the freezer?  Do I need to make pesto before the basil completely takes over the herb bed? 

            And then you look for other problems.  Has blight struck the tomatoes?  Do the vining plants have a fungus?  Have the monarch butterflies laid their progeny on the parsley plants?  Have the cutworms attacked the peppers?  Has the ground developed a bacteria that is killing off half the garden almost overnight?  Do things just need watering?

            Childrearing can be the same way.  Children don’t stop growing until it suits your schedule. They don’t wait till you have a free moment.  You must reap the harvest when it is ready or you lose it.

            God expects you to carefully watch those small plants.  He expects you to check for problems before they kill the plants, and nip them in the bud.  It is perfectly normal for a toddler to be self-centered, but somewhere along the way you must teach him consideration for others.  Are you watching for ways to overcome his innate selfishness and teach him to share? Do you have a plan to teach him generosity?  It won’t happen by itself--you have to do it.

           Are you examining your children every day for those little diseases—stubbornness, a hot temper, whining, disrespect, or the other side of the “leaf”—inordinate shyness, self-deprecation, pessimism.  God expects you to look for problems from the beginning and try to fix them so your child will grow into a happy, well-adjusted adult, able to serve Him without the baggage of character flaws that should have been caught when he was very small.  Parents who ignore these things, thinking they will somehow go away when he grows up, are failing in their duties as gardeners of God’s young souls.  Those things will not disappear on their own any more than nematodes and mole crickets will.

            He also expects you to make clear-eyed judgments.  He may be your precious little cutie-pie, but you need to take off your tinted glasses and take a good look at him.  If you ignore his problems because you are too smitten to see them, you do not love your child as much as you claim.  Whoever spares the rod, hates his son, but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him, Prov 13:24.  When I ignore the blight in my garden it’s because saving the garden isn’t important to me.

            Have you and your spouse ever just sat and watched your children play?  Have you ever given any thought at all to the things you might need to correct in them?  If your schedule is too busy for that, then you are too busy.  Period.  Your children will keep right on growing, and without your attentive care they may rot on the vine. 

            You are a steward of God’s garden.  The most important thing you can do today is take care of it.

Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within your house; your children will be like olive shoots around your table… Psalms 128:3.

Dene Ward

(For hints, help, and instructions on using this blog, click on the FAQ/Tutorial page on the left sidebar)

“I enjoyed my dinner.”  Did your parents teach you to say that to the hostess every time you went to another home for a meal?  Mine did, and I am sure that the hostess knew that’s why I said it.  Some things are done just to be polite, like asking, “How are you?”  Everyone knows it is a greeting not a question to be answered.  It’s semantics, and part of our culture.

            But there are other times when the compliment is sincere.  Keith learned early on when someone was saying, “Good lesson,” to be polite, and when it was really meant, and the latter were precious to him.

            If we can know these things, why do we think God won’t?  Why do we think we can go through the motions without going through the e-motions? 

            There they cry out, but he does not answer, because of the pride of evil men. Surely God does not hear an empty cry, nor does the Almighty regard it, Job 35:12-13.  If the only time God hears from me is when I cannot fend for myself, why would He come to my aid then?  If I expect help, I must offer something myself—like love, devotion, worship, and obedience.  That’s why it is called a covenant—both parties agree to give something.

            They utter mere words; with empty oaths they make covenants, Hos 10:4.  Undoubtedly, the covenant Israel made with God fit this condemnation.  Instead of loving God “with all their hearts,” they did what they thought necessary to get along with Him, imagining that outward rituals mattered more than sincere hearts.  It has never been so with God, and never will be.

            You cannot give God ritual obedience and think you have offered sincere worship.  You cannot follow the Law to the letter and leave undone its “weightier matters” Matt 23:23.  Israel tried it and God said, “I hate, I despise your feasts, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies.  Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them…” Amos 5:21,22.  Jesus echoed that comment when he said, “Go and learn what this means—I desire mercy and not sacrifice…” Matt 9:13.

            God has always required sincerity and truth; He has always wanted those who “obey from the heart” Rom 6:17.  He has always sought a people who will be His in more than name only.  God knows when, “I enjoyed my dinner,” comes from a thankful heart and when it is just a courtesy. 

            When you pray tonight, will He recognize your words as sincere compliments, or just more formulaic nonsense meant only to salve a hypocritical conscience?”  He knows the difference.

This day the Lord your God commands you to do these statutes and rules.  You shall therefore be careful to do them with all your heart and with all your soul, Deut 26:16.

Dene Ward

For hints, help, and instructions on using this blog, click on the FAQ/Tutorial page on the left sidebar.

Twenty years ago I saw a dress in a catalog that I adored.  My style tends to be plain, tailored, and dark.  I generally like a blousy waistline because it makes me look like I have one, which I haven’t had since I was about two years old.  Every time that catalog came, I salivated over that dress, a black shirtwaist with long button-cuff sleeves and a broad, white collar embroidered on the edges.  At that time we just couldn’t afford it.  Feeding two teenage boys and paying a mortgage on a state salary and music studio tuitions was almost more than we could handle.

            A couple of years ago I was wandering through a second hand clothing store.  You would be surprised the bargains you can find if you are careful.  I have bought name brands for literally one-tenth their original price, some of them with the original price tags still on them, the extra buttons still sealed in plastic. 

            That day I saw the black arms hanging out from the press of the rack; I saw the white collar.  Could it be?  I checked the neckline for the label and found the old catalog name.  So I pulled it out and felt a thrill.  This was the dress I had wished for.  Twenty years ago it was a $45 dress.  This store wanted $6.00!  Then came the moment of truth:  I checked the size.  Yes!  Just to make sure, I tried it on, and then quickly shelled out my $6 and change for tax.  It almost made me believe in fate.

            This dress is long sleeved and a fairly heavy knit so it was just after Thanksgiving before I could wear it here in Florida.  I wore it to church that Sunday.  One of the first people I saw, a sweet five year old, came running up and exclaimed, “Mrs. Dene!  You look just like a pilgrim!”  I laughed a little, gave her a hug and thanked her.  Before I was halfway down the hall, another child came running up and said the same thing, word for word. 

            Okay, I thought.  I look like a pilgrim.  Maybe it’s too close to Thanksgiving to wear this.

            In the middle of January I wore it again.  A third sweet child gave me the same compliment.  It was enough to make me wonder, do they teach this phrase in the Bible classes these days?  But I suppose what capped it all was a good friend who came up to me and laughed, saying, “You look like a pilgrim!”

            I am about ready to donate this dress to another thrift store.  All I can see when I look in the mirror are the missing white cap, buckled shoes and white stockings.  It certainly isn’t what I thought of when I used to moon over that catalog.

            I wonder if Abraham and Sarah had in mind the pilgrim life God had planned for them when they answered the call to “Go to a land I will show you.”  That doesn’t necessarily sound like they would always be nomads.  It doesn’t sound like they would never have an earthly home again.  When someone tells me to go, usually they have a specific destination in mind.

            Even if they didn’t understand that in the beginning, they finally did.  By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God, Heb 11:8-10.  Eventually they knew they would never have a home on this earth, that the real one was waiting beyond the border of physical life and death.

            We must eventually, and as soon as possible, learn the same thing.  Our culture is too caught up in the here and now, in instant gratification, in “if it feels good do it.”  We think this is what matters.  That’s why we let it bother us so much when things do not go right.  That’s why we become angry over the inconsequential and throw away the truly valuable, including our hope.  They made me mad and they are going to know it!  They took what’s mine, and I have a right to take it back.  They hurt me and now I am going to hurt them—usually in exactly the same low way they hurt me. 

            If I know what it means to be a pilgrim in this world, none of that matters.  I don’t need to throw a tantrum.  I don’t need to get even.  I don’t need to have more and more and more because everyone else has it.  I don’t even need an easy, carefree life with no trials.  It will never compare to Heaven no matter how wonderful it is, and it certainly isn’t worth giving up Heaven for.

            Maybe I should keep the “Pilgrim” dress.  Maybe it will remind me of things I need to remember, when I need most to remember them.  Maybe I need to wear it for you, too.

These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city, Heb 11:13,15.

Dene Ward

For hints, help, and instructions on using this blog, click on the FAQ/Tutorial page on the left sidebar.)

Oh the pains of learning to dress yourself. 

            I remember my little boys, determined that they no longer needed Mom’s help, carefully laying out their shirts on the bed.  As soon as they saw their favorite super-hero or cartoon character looking at them, they just knew they had it right.  So they leaned over, grabbed the hem, and slipped the tee shirt over their heads, only to look down and see the blank backside of the shirt swathing their tummies.  So they ripped it off over their heads and tried again.  This time it was on front side to the front, but inside out. 

            Sometimes they wore it out the door inside out before I could catch them.  We had lessons on seams and labels, and finally they figured it out, more often than not anyway.  As we all grow up, though, we must learn that “inside out” is the way a Christian is supposed to operate every day.

            Babies have only their own perspectives.  If they cannot see you, then you cannot see them.  If they cannot feel it, it cannot be felt and is not important.  If they want it, no one else should have it.  Eventually we learn to think from other perspectives, those outside of our own.  We realize that just because I cannot see you with my covered up eyes, that does not mean my whole body is hidden. 

            Eventually, we learn to think about others’ feelings, turning our thoughts “inside out.”  At least, that is the way it is supposed to work.  Too many times though, we operate as if the feelings inside ourselves are the only that matter, ready to excuse ourselves without giving the other person the same benefit. 

            If I cut someone off in traffic, it is because I am late for an important appointment.  If the other guy does it to me, it is because he is an inconsiderate jerk. 

            If I snap at my spouse, it is because I have had a rough day, I’m tired and have a headache.  If he does it to me, it is because he is a louse. 

            If I don’t speak to a brother when I walk in the meetinghouse door, it is because I have a lot on my mind and did not see him.  If he does not speak to me, it is because he has something against me. 

            My opinion is carefully thought out and makes sense; yours is ridiculous—how can you possibly be so dumb?

            Thinking and feeling inside out is hard to do.  It takes work and thought, two things 21st century Americans try to avoid at all costs.  Christians are supposed to be different.  Oh the pain of learning to think like Christ, who counted not being on an equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant.  But if he is my Lord, my seams and labels will show; everyone will know I belong to him.  If they cannot tell, I have my religion on backwards!

If there is therefore any exhortation in Christ, if any consolation of love, if any fellowship of the Spirit, if any tender mercies and compassions, make full my joy, that you be of the same mind, having the same love, being of one accord, of one mind; doing nothing through faction or through vainglory, but in lowliness of mind each counting other better than himself; not looking each of you to his own things, but each of you also to the things of others, Phil 2:1-4.

Dene Ward

For hints, help, and instructions on using this blog, click on the FAQ/Tutorial page on the left sidebar.)

For hints, help, and instructions on using this blog, click on the FAQ/Tutorial page on the left sidebar

            It must be a sign of age.  I find myself reminiscing a lot more lately.  When we walked the property with Lucas last Thanksgiving we talked more about the past than the present.  Certainly more than the future—which for us is suddenly so much smaller than the past.

            “Remember the wild myrtles by the fire pit?”
            “Yes, we sometimes hung a tarp on the branches so we could scoot under it and have a hot dog roast even in a drizzle.”

            “Remember the pine tree in the field?”
            “Yep.  That was first base.”

            “Remember how small these oak trees used to be?”
            “Yes.  I used to climb up limbs that are too rotten to trust any longer, what there are left of them.”

            I remember wondering what it would be like after the boys were grown, when we were living here alone in a quiet house and an empty yard.  No more wondering, only remembering.

            I have said to more than one who came seeking advice that looking back on our past can be helpful.  If you despair at ever becoming the Christian you ought to be, look where you were ten years ago.  Can you see any improvement?  Can you say to yourself, “I don’t act that way now,” about anything at all?  God meant for us to be encouraged, and I find nothing in the scriptures telling me I can’t take a moment every now and then to check my progress and use it as a gauge, both to spur myself on if I see none, and to invigorate my growth with any positive impetus it gives me.

            Many times we quote Paul’s comment to the Philippians, “Forgetting the things that are behind…” (3:13). In fact, I have heard preachers say we shouldn’t think about the past at all.  But Paul didn’t believe that.  He remembered all his life where he started, “the chief of sinners,” 1 Tim 1:16.  He used that memory to keep himself humble before others and grateful to God for the salvation granted him. It bolstered his faith enough to endure countless hardships and persecutions.  As a “chief sinner” he could hardly rail against God for the tortures he suffered when he knew he deserved so much more.

            God has always wanted his people to remember the past.  I lost count of the passages in Deuteronomy exhorting Israel to remember that they were slaves in a foreign country, and that God loved them enough to deliver them with His mighty hand.  Here is a case, though, where the reminding didn’t work as it did for Paul.  Still, God tried.  What is the Passover, but a reminder of their deliverance from Egypt?  What is the Feast of Tabernacles but a reminder of His care for them in the wilderness?  What was the pot of manna in the Ark of the Covenant, the stones on the breastplate of the ephod, and the pile of rocks by the Jordan but the same?  “Remember, remember, remember!” God enjoined.  It’s how we use that memory that makes it right or wrong.

            Paul says we are to remember what we used to be.  “And such were some of you,” he reminds the Corinthians in chapter 6, after listing what we consider the worst sins imaginable.  You “were servants of sin” he reminds the Romans in 6:17.  You once walked “according to the course of this world,” “in vanity of mind,” “in the desire of the Gentiles,” and in a host of other sins too numerous to list (Eph 2:2; 4:17; 1 Pet 4:3; Col 3; Titus 3.)  Those memories should spur us on in the same way they prodded Paul.  Nothing is too hard to bear, too much to ask, or too difficult to overcome if we remember where we started.  Be encouraged by your growth and take heart.

            And then this: let your gratitude be always abounding, overflowing, and effusive to a God who loves us in whatever state we find ourselves, as long as that growth continues.

Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called "the uncircumcision" by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands-- remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ, Ephesians 2:11-13.

Dene Ward

For hints, help, and instructions on using this blog, click on the FAQ/Tutorial page on the left sidebar.

            I still have fond memories of Silas’s first solo visit with us out here in the country.  He was not quite four and stayed three nights alone, no mom and dad to get in the way and spoil the fun!  The first morning we had to assure him that walking outside barefoot was not a capital crime, but once his toes hit the cool green grass, he giggled delightedly.  “I like bare feet!” he instantly proclaimed, and took off running. 

            He was used to being inside all day, playing with his Matchbox cars, putting together puzzles, reading books, and watching his “shows,” educational though they might be.  Yet he found out there were a lot of fun things to do outside, especially when you have five acres to romp around in instead of a postage stamp-sized yard.  That’s all they give you in the city these days. 

            He and Granddad whacked the enemy weeds with green limb “swords.”  They pulled the garden cart up the rise to the carport and rode it down.  They dug roads in the sandy driveway and flew paper airplanes in the yard.  They played in the hose and threw mud balls at one another.  Every night this little guy went to bed far earlier than he usually did at home—it was that or pass out on the couch from exhaustion as we read Bible stories.

            My favorite memory is watching him as we walked Chloe every morning.  He begged for one of my walking sticks and I adjusted it to his height.  Then he ran on ahead, hopping and skipping along, holding granddad’s too-big red baseball cap on his head with one hand so it wouldn’t fall off, the walking stick dangling from the other upraised arm, singing and laughing as he went.  That picture of sheer joy will forever be etched in my memory.  He may have been too little to remember it himself, but someday I will tell him about it, someday when he needs a reminder of joy at a not so joyous time. 

            I remember that time nearly every morning when I walk Chloe, especially when we reach the back fence where Silas’s little feet suddenly took off on the straightaway and his laughter reached its peak.  And I wonder if God has anything etched in His memory, anything from that time in Eden when everything was perfect and his two children felt joy every day in their surroundings, in each other, and in Him.  Surely, the God who knows all has special memories of how it used to be.  Can you read the end of Revelation and not think so? 

            Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever, Revelation 22:1-5.

            Maybe God has recorded that so we, too, can be reminded not of what we have lost, but of what we have waiting for us.  Maybe He put it there for the times when life here is not so joyous, a picture of hope to carry us through.  It may not be etched in our memories—not yet—but the fact that He still remembers it and wants it, means someday we won’t have to count on etchings any longer.  Some day it will all be real once again.

Dene Ward

            Along time ago we lived near a man who raised a little livestock.  He had a sow down the fence line from us, and one summer morning we woke to find piglets rooting their way through our yard, trying to find mama. Mama was too big to get under the pen, but the babies weren’t.  After that we kept tabs on those piglets, and the boys, who were about 6 and 4, loved going to see them.  Baby animals, as a general rule, are cute—even pigs.

            One evening I stuck my head out the door and hollered extra loudly, “Dinner!” because I knew that’s where they were.  Keith said they started back immediately, Nathan on his shoulders, and Lucas walking along side.  About halfway back he swapped boys, and told Nathan to run on ahead and wash his hands. As he watched, Nathan ran along the sandy path toward our driveway, then veered to the left instead of to the right toward the house.  Immediately his father yelled, ‘What did I tell you to do?!” and Nathan instantly changed his direction and ran for the house without even a backward look.

            As he approached the deep shade of the drive himself, Keith felt an inch tall.  Nathan’s tricycle was off to the left, parked in the hedgerow by our chicken pen.  That’s what he had been headed for because his father had taught him to always put up his tricycle.

            He put Lucas down on the ground and sent him on into the house as he went for the tricycle himself, to put it up for his younger son, who had only been trying to obey his father in all things.  Just as he got there, a gray-green cottonmouth as thick as a bike tire tube charged from the bushes.  Keith was able to grab a shovel in time and kill it. 

            Imagine if that had been a four year old.  Would he have seen the snake in time?  Would he have even known to be on the look out as one should here in the north Florida piney woods?  Cottonmouths are not shy—not only will they charge, they will change direction and come after you.  A snake that size could easily have struck above Nathan’s waist, and at forty pounds he was probably dead on his feet.

            Now let me ask you this—does your child obey you instantly?  Or do you have to argue, threaten, bribe, or cajole him into doing what you tell him to do?  Do you think it doesn’t matter?  The world is filled with dangerous things, even if you don’t live where I do—traffic, electricity, deep water, high drop offs—predators.  If you don’t teach him instant obedience, you could be responsible for his injury or death some day--you, because you didn’t teach him to obey.  Because you thought it wasn’t that important.  Because you thought it would make him hate you.  Because you thought it made you sound mean.  Or dozens of other excuses.

            We put our boys in child seats before it was required by law.  We actually had other people ask us, “How do you get him to sit in the seat?”  Excuse me? Isn’t it funny that when the law started requiring it, those parents figured it out?  Not getting in trouble with the law was evidently more important to them than the welfare of their children.

            The hedgerows don’t go away when your child grows up.  In fact, they become even more dangerous if you haven’t taught them as you should have.  Isn’t it sad when the elders of the church have to nag people to get them to do one simple thing for the betterment of the church or the visitors whose souls they are supposed to care about, like sitting somewhere besides the two back pews?  Those are probably the same people who as children had to be begged to obey their parents. 

            Do you want to know what someone was like as a child?  I can show you the ones who threw tantrums; they’re the ones who threaten to leave if things aren’t done their way.  I can point out the ones who wouldn’t share their toys; they won’t give up anything now either, especially not their “rights.”  The snake in the hedgerow has bitten them, and this time it poisoned their souls, not their bodies.

            Look around you Sunday morning.  Decide which of those adults you want your children to be like when they grow up.  It doesn’t happen automatically.  It happens when loving parents work hard, sometimes enduring a whole lot of unpleasantness and even criticism, to mold their children into disciples of the Lord.

            Danger hides in the hedgerows.  Make sure your child’s soul stays safe.

Now Adonijah [David’s son and] the son of Haggith exalted himself, saying, "I will be king." And he prepared for himself chariots and horsemen, and fifty men to run before him. His father had never at any time displeased him by asking, "Why have you done thus and so?" 1 Kings 1:5-6.

On that day I will fulfill against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from beginning to end. And I declare to him that I am about to punish his house forever, for the iniquity that he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God, and he did not restrain them, 1 Samuel 3:12-13.

Dene Ward