We just returned from a long camping weekend. We started camping only after I discovered tents that were completely self-enclosed.  Even the floor was sewn into the walls and ceiling.  Nothing could get in there but us!  For a city girl this was very important.  Our first tent was a hexagonal dome.  It was put out by a company called Camel, and the brown tent did look a little something like a camel’s hump.
            Most of the time, we would pack up to come home from a camping trip with the tent still wet from the morning’s dew.  That meant we had to set it up out in the sunny field once we got home to let it dry out.  We never bothered to stake it since it usually dried in under a half hour.  As it dried, one of us crawled inside with the portable vacuum to get all the dirt out as well.  My younger son Nathan was enjoying that chore once while I hung out sleeping bags and tarps to dry and air out.  A little breeze came up and suddenly I was hearing this little voice saying, “What’s going on?  Hey!  HELP!!!”  I looked up in time to see that self-contained, flat bottomed dome, rolling on its sides across the field in the wind, with my little boy evidently tumbling around inside—and from the sounds of it, not nearly as gracefully as a hamster on its wheel.
            Nathan blossomed late.  At that time he was about 11, still under 100 pounds, and only about 4 and a half feet tall.  Add to that the fact that the tent was not grounded with stakes, and you had someone ready to be easily tossed around in the wind.
            I cannot think of any better reminder to ground myself in the doctrine of Christ.  Too many people out there are willing to expound in beautiful moving words that sound good but which could easily upset my faith.  Too many times I rely on what I have always known, or on some brother I respect to tell me what to believe.  I sit in Bible classes sometimes and shake my head.  Whenever a certain topic comes up, I can almost always tell you who will say what, because few have bothered to look at things from a new perspective, to dig a little deeper, to ask questions, to even think it is all right to ask a question without being looked at skeptically.  Too many times I have visited women’s classes in other places and looked at the cotton candy lesson being studied, wondering if these empty calories are doing anyone’s soul any good at all.  We call them classes because we are supposed to study deeply and learn new things, not splash around in the shallow end of the pool with the children, trying not to get our hair wet.
            The only way to avoid confusion is to ask questions; the only way to grow—and we should all be growing, no matter how long we have been Christians--is to search the scriptures diligently; the only way to build a solid foundation is to learn how to study on my own; the only way to remain steadfast is to gain enough spiritual weight to stake down my tabernacle with stakes I have discovered myself, and hammered deeply into the ground.
 
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 slight of men, in craftiness, after the wiles of error, but speaking truth in love, may grow up in all things into him, who is the head, even Christ. Eph 4:13-15.
 
Dene Ward

You know the story so I won’t go into much detail here.  Pharaoh had ordered the Hebrew baby boys killed and one mother had enough faith to put her infant into a lovingly woven and waterproofed basket and set it afloat in the Nile River.  Pharaoh’s daughter came to the river to bathe and found him, and his alert and very smart big sister offered to get him a Hebrew nurse—one who just happened to be his mother.
            And so Moses was raised by two mothers.  Jochebed kept him close to her those first years, probably as many as five to eight, before she weaned him.  But nursing was not all she did.  She taught him who he was, who his people were, and who his God was.  She did an amazing job.  In those few years she made him strong enough to stand against the temptations of wealth the like of which we have probably never seen.  And that wealth was not just contrasted with poverty, but with some of the most oppressive slavery imaginable. 
            After that, Moses lived in the palace with his “foster” mother for thirty years or more.  She undoubtedly lavished him with luxury and provided him with one of the best secular educations of the time.  Just look at the pyramids if you think those people were ignorant.  He became so much an Egyptian that he even looked like one (Ex 2:19).
            So here is our point today:  Which mother am I?  Do I check on their schoolwork, but never make sure their Bible lessons are done?  Do I even know if they have their lesson book and Bible with them when we leave the house Sunday morning?  Do I teach them how to make a budget and live within their means, but never teach them how to make time for prayer and Bible study?  Do I make sure they get to school but actually give them a choice about whether they go to church or not?  Do I teach them the social etiquette of what to wear at which occasion but never teach them about modesty?  Do I teach them the Bill of Rights but never talk about giving up those rights for the sake of the gospel and peoples’ souls?  Do I teach them to save for their financial security but never teach how to keep their souls secure?
            Your child knows what you think is most important.  He will take his cue from you.  Are you a Pharaoh’s daughter or a Jochebed?
 
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 few years ago, everyone knew what happened on April 15, 1912, because they had seen the movie.  We don't do movies—a deaf husband cannot enjoy them—but even if we could have gone, I had no desire to see that one.  I already knew how it ended—the ship sank.  So missing Leonardo and Kate was no great loss to me.  But recently I discovered something about that event that did affect me profoundly.  On April 21, 1912, six days after the Titanic went down, the last body was pulled from the Atlantic Ocean by men on board the rescue ship MacKay-Bennett.  It was the body of a fair-haired little boy around two years of age.
            I had two fair-haired little boys, and two more now as grandsons, so I read on with my heart galloping.  The article, from 2011, was featured on nbcnews.com.  It took nearly 100 years to identify that baby boy, but with the help of DNA and some persistence, they finally did.  Sidney Leslie Godwin was 19 months old.  He had boarded the ship with both his parents and five brothers and sisters.  All of them perished.
            I have not stopped thinking of the last moments for those parents and those children.  Every mother I know would die for her children, and I imagine little Sidney's would have too.  Yet she died but could not save him, nor any of the others.  I know that when my first was born, I promptly began having nightmares about losing him, about the house catching on fire and me unable to get to him, about him becoming ill and me unable to cure him, about someone stealing him from his crib and running off with him, about every possible way to lose a child I had ever heard of.  So now I sit and wonder about little Sidney's last moments, and his poor mother's, who could do nothing to help.
            I imagine that is not too uncommon.  But as I look out on some parents I know and see the ways they are raising their children, not teaching them about God, not taking them to their Bible classes, allowing the entire family to miss the assembly of the saints for every little thing that comes along, overlooking the inappropriate clothing they must wear for the activities they want to be in, refusing to say no to television shows, movies, and video games that are unsuitable for a child of God, it seems obvious that few, if any, are afraid of their children losing their souls.
            We know that we made mistakes.  We have even heard about a few of them from our boys.  But I doubt they would deny that we taught them as much about God as we could, enough to make sure they knew it should be the most important part of their lives.  Many parents worry about their children making a good living, but frankly, the most important thing to us is that, as I write this, they both have their spiritual lives in order.  If not, I would be having those nightmares again, knowing they were lost and unable to "fix it" like Mamas are supposed to do. 
           We will probably die before they do, but if we were to die knowing they were not in a right relationship with their God, it would be a horrible death, no matter how easy it was physically.  That would be the greatest hurt they could ever do us.
           What about you and your parents?  Does your life break their hearts and leave them in agony?  And what about your children?  If you have not taught them about God, you might as well have thrown them out into the icy waters of the North Atlantic without a life preserver.  At least that horrible death would be quicker than what awaits you both.
 
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children's children, to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments (Ps 103:17-18).
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

I do not have any children so you may think I don’t have anything worth listening to.  The thing is, for 7 years I was in the position of managing some of Mama's little darlings in what was, for many of them, their first job.  So I saw up close and personal the results of modern American child rearing.  It was rarely pretty.  
            Most kids, as they first get out into the world, have no sense of cause and effect. They have no idea that they should ever put the group ahead of themselves. They don't know how to deal with adversity because they've never been allowed to experience it before. They don't know what work is, have no sense of responsibility, and don't acknowledge any absolutes. AND THESE ARE THE GOOD KIDS!
            Good parents should raise their children to succeed in life, and if they cannot hold down a job, they won’t.  Period.  So here are some suggestions from the boss they might work for someday, who is probably a lot like most bosses.
            1) Don't protect your kids from their mistakes.  If they goof up, allow them to feel the pain it causes.  Point out the relationship between their actions and the consequences.  When it’s their fault, they need to own it, not blame someone else.
            2) Don't protect your kids from life.  I once was talking to one of my employees and said, "Life isn't fair."  She looked at me strangely and said, "Yes it is, or it always has been to me."  All I could do was stare at her with my mouth hanging open and think "Oh, you poor girl!"  She had no defenses built up.  When something unfair happens to her, which it will, she will have no idea how to handle it.  She'll likely fall apart.  Inoculate your children against life by letting them see what goes on and showing them how to handle it.
            3) Teach your children that they aren't the most important thing in the world.  (I know, they are the most important thing to you, but if you aren't careful you'll teach them to act as if they are the world's royalty.)  When I was growing up I didn't always get what I wanted, not always because it was a bad thing or because my parents couldn't afford it, but because it was my brother's turn to choose or Dad or Mom wanted to do something different.  We were also taught to consider how our actions affected others. There was no quicker way to anger Dad than to be noisy when Mom was napping. We were taught to think of others.
            4) Teach your children what work is.  If you live in town, this may be harder – no, I don't consider taking the trash out twice a week and mowing a quarter acre lawn on a riding mower to be work -- but figure something out.  I had good kids as employees who wanted to be good employees, but just didn't know how to work: how to stick with a job, how to see what needed to be done and do it, how to stay busy.  There's an old phrase that really needs to be reintroduced to America's youth: "An honest day's work for an honest day's pay".  Most kids today think that clocking in on time, working while the boss is watching, and talking to their friends the rest of the time is "work".  The company isn't paying them to stand around, and one day they may find out the hard way.
            5) While there are some gray areas, some things are right and some are wrong.  Even modern psychology tells us that children are happier with boundaries—it makes them feel secure.  The same fence that keeps them in, keeps the bad things out.  So teach them some absolute guidelines. Best place to start: your Bible.
            Wow, I've become a cranky old man.                                            
                                                                                                           
Lucas Ward

I know some women who crochet and knit.  I know some women who quilt.  I know some women who draw and paint.  I know some who bake and decorate cakes.  I know women who are gardeners and canners.  I know some who put up wallpaper.  I know others who do tile.  I even know one who can put in sinks and toilets.  And no, those are not their jobs.  Those are their hobbies, or at the very least, things they do because they need to be done, and they regularly use those things to serve others as well.
            I know men who can do wiring.  I know men who can do fine woodworking.  I know men who can solder and weld.  I know men who can take an engine apart, fix it, and put it back together again.  I know men who are gardeners and expert fishermen.  I know men who are marksmen.  And once again, these are not their jobs, but their hobbies which they also use to serve others.
            Meanwhile, I see a generation of children who sit around the house playing video games, or bouncing a basketball on a court all day, or sitting on the porch steps with other kids, shooting the breeze and talking, while doing absolutely nothing worthwhile, nor learning anything useful.  Why aren't we teaching our boys and girls to do stuff?!
            Why aren't we teaching them life skills that they can use to help others?  We certainly have ample examples in the Bible.
            Adam and Eve were expected to tend a garden and live off of it.
            Rachel, Rebekah, David, and the sons of Jacob were expected to know animal husbandry as part of their families' survival.
            Ruth grew up knowing she was expected to work hard, not just for herself, but also for others, even those not blood family.
            Miriam was willing to use her musical and poetic talent to teach the women of Israel.
            Jael and Rizpah learned that being strong and brave, and doing the dirty work was someone's responsibility, and you shouldn't wait around on a man to get it done when you are the only person available.
            Dorcas learned to sew, and with that ability served the church so well that she was the one Peter raised from the dead rather than the recently slain deacon and preacher Stephen.
            I know a man whose plan for retirement is to use his considerable handyman skills to perform free labor for the widows in the church.  He learned those skills as a young man and has become a good steward of the abilities God gave him.  What do you plan for your retirement?  Spending more time serving others, or serving yourself by traveling for months on end, or playing golf several times a week, or going hunting nearly every weekend, or whatever else you think you deserve?  Do you have any plans at all for serving the church now that your time is not taken up with the necessities of making a living and raising a family?
            What do you know how to do?  What are you teaching your children how to do, and more especially, what are you teaching them about their obligations as a child of God to serve others?  Are you even home long enough to do that teaching?
            When it came time to decide if a widow deserved to be placed on the payroll, serving the church every day, what were the qualifications?  If she has a good report for her good works, if she has brought up children, if she has shown hospitality to strangers, if she has washed the saints' feet, if she has given relief to those who were afflicted, if she has devoted herself to every good work (1Tim 5:10).  Why do you think she could do those things?  Because she learned them as a child and, most likely, watched others doing them!  What do your children see you doing?
            God wants us to serve.  He wants children who have learned to do stuff!  And he wants us out there doing that stuff, no matter our age, no matter our wealth, and certainly no matter our social status.  Service is what Christianity is all about.  Let's make sure our children will have something to offer. 
 
That you may walk worthily of the Lord, unto all pleasing, being fruitful in every good work and growing in the knowledge of God (Col 1:10).
 
Dene Ward

The other morning I headed for the bluebird houses to give them a good cleaning out.  "Before nesting season," I wanted to add, but it was early March already, and as I made my way to the farthest house, a daddy bluebird flitted out and sat on the fence before I could get there.  I put on the brakes immediately.  He was doing his job of trying to distract something he thought of as a predator away from the nest.  Yes, I was indeed too late, and had suspected so already.  Late January would have been much better. 

I headed for the next bluebird house a little more slowly and quietly.  Nothing flew out as I approached, so I carefully unlatched and opened the door and saw what appeared to be a brand new nest, waiting for the Mama and her eggs.  Another too little, too late moment for me.  The third house was the only one we could actually clean an old nest out of, and make ready for a new avian family.  Next year I will do better!

I have watched birds parenting their babies for fifteen years now and it always amazes me.  I have seen cardinals bring their young to the feeder to show them where to eat.  I have seen a mockingbird do the same as that first bluebird I mentioned, flying away from the nest in hopes of distracting me from the eggs, and later the nestlings.  I have seen a hawk teach her babies how to hunt, bringing them back to the nest in the evening with whatever prey they have found, a good week of lessons before the young hawk finally flew away to fend on its own.  I have seen a mama wren teaching her little ones to fly, watching them carefully as they flitted barely a foot off the ground, moving with them around the house until they could finally lift themselves high enough to safety.

All of those small feathered parents have succeeded in their tasks.  The babies eat and grow, learn and practice, and ultimately leave behind an "empty nest" to begin their own lives, to have their own babies, and do the same teaching all over again.

I wonder about some human parents.  Some of us forget that the point of teaching is to work our way out of a job.  If your children still need you to tell them how to behave, how to take care of their personal hygiene, how to handle money, how to get along with others, how to obey the laws of the land and stay out of trouble, when they are approaching thirty, what in the world did you do all those years when you had them as a "captive audience?"  If they cannot leave the nest and survive in the world, something went dreadfully wrong.

Some parents are too sheltering.  It is one thing to hide the ugliness of the world from a little one, it is another to allow a teenager to think everyone is a friend and can be trusted implicitly, even the stranger on the street corner.  If, as I did, you live mainly among your brethren, your children will more than likely be taken advantage of one way or the other because they have not learned that not everyone out there has good intentions.  It's up to you to warn them.

Some parents want so badly to be their child's "friend" that they do not act like the parents they truly need, teaching them responsibility and a good work ethic.  So we continually pick up after them and wait on them like they are royalty, granting every wish their heart desires.  Meanwhile, they never learn how to take care of themselves and, in fact, as adults they do not, wreaking havoc on their physical health, their economic reputations, and their ability to work for a living.  One reason we chose to live in the country is that the chores were not make-work.  Helping their father cut wood, stack it so it would be preserved, and carry it to the wood stove in the house, kept us warm on cold, winter days.  They knew their work mattered.  Do you know how those Bible characters did so well as children?  People in those times raised their children to be responsible over serious matters from the time they could walk.  They were expected to be adults, having families and providing for them by their mid-teens because they were trained to be able to do that by then.  (No. I am not advocating teen marriages.)  We mollycoddle them, then wonder why they are still so immature at 16 and 17!  Meanwhile, we expect them to be able to commit their lives to God at 12, when our culture does not prepare them for such a thing.  That does not mean a particular set of parents can't do it, but how many of those twelve year olds still have to be nagged into doing their Bible lessons and refuse to turn off the video games to do so?  They have no clue what lifetime commitment and devotion mean at all.

Some parents shield their children from the consequences of their mistakes.  We want to "fix" everything for them if we can, but at some point, we need to stop that.  They will grow up thinking they will always get out of the messes they make of their lives unscathed.  Far better to let them suffer a tiny bit on something that may seem earth-shattering at the age of 8 and learn the lesson then, than to let them learn it as they sit across the table from a probation officer, or worse, in a prison cell.  At that point, it may even be impossible for them to learn.

And some parents seem to think that their children should never leave the nest at all.  Oh, they might have their own apartments or even houses, but it had better be close by and we had better see them several times a week!  And many children love it.  They are so used to Mom doing their laundry and cooking their meals they wouldn't want it any other way.  That "empty nest" that so many are afraid of is perfectly normal.  That's why it is so important to keep your marriage strong—one of these days, God meant that it would just be the two of you again, as it was for your parents when you left the nest. 

If we were all birds, I can't help but wonder how many of our children would survive.  How many would never learn to fly and wind up easy pickings for the neighbor's cat, or out here in the country, the coyotes, foxes, bobcats, and snakes?  How many would starve because they never learned how to provide for themselves?  And how long before all birds ceased to exist because all the babies stayed in the nest without forming normal healthy relationships with anyone except Mom and Dad?

I used to tell my piano students that my job was to help them reach the point that they no longer needed me.  That's a hard thing for a parent to even contemplate, but all things being equal, one day we will be gone long before they are.  What will happen to your little birds then?
 
Yea, the stork in the heavens knows her appointed times; and the turtle-dove and the swallow and the crane observe the time of their coming; but my people know not the law of Jehovah, Jer 8:7                                                          
 
Dene Ward

It must be a Southern thing.  We have a tendency to call the people we love after food—honey, honey pie, honey bun, and honey bunch; sweetie, sweet pea, and sweetie pie; muffin, dumplin’ and punkin’, baby cakes and cupcake, sugar and sugar plum.

            Speaking of sugar, that’s my favorite term for hugs and kisses from little ones.  Whenever a child is in my lap, I will kiss the top of his head every 15 seconds or so and not even realize it.   My own children probably have indentations there from several thousand kisses a year, just counting church time.  My grandchildren are learning it now.  And they love it.  I remember kissing Silas’s cheek once when he was two and having him run to his mama to tell her, “Grandma got sugar!” with a big grin on his face.

            Little Judah especially loves the sugar game.  The last time we were together after I had leaned over and gotten some “neck sugar” and “cheek sugar,” he grabbed his buddies and started kissing them.  First Tiger, then Marshall, and finally he even balled up a wad of blankie and gave it a kiss.  “Are you getting sugar?” I asked, and he smiled his contented little bashful smile and nodded his head, yes.

            Children revel in the knowledge that they are loved.  It feeds a healthy self-esteem and gives them the feelings of security needed when they are out there trying things out and learning about their world.  Failure doesn’t matter when you are loved.

            And that is why a patently obvious love is absolutely essential to discipline.  If you are the kind of parent you ought to be—setting boundaries and punishing inappropriate behavior from early on—your child needs to know that you love him more than life itself.  He needs to hear those words and feel the warmth in your voice and your arms and your heart.  Then it won’t matter that you punished him yesterday.  He will know you love him and will try even harder to please you.

            It isn’t all hugs and kisses.  The older they get, the less that works.  But you can still show it with words of appreciation, pride, and approval.  Have you ever told your children how much it means to you when they behave in public?  How wonderful it is that you don’t have to worry what they might do in someone else’s home?  What a special gift it is in the middle of a stressful situation to know they are one thing you don’t have to worry about, that you can take them anywhere any time and they won’t act up, that it makes you want them with you even more?  Do you think that saying those things might help them behave a little better?

            If all they hear are complaints, growls, screams, and great heaving sighs of frustration and anger, all of them hurled in their direction, what do you think they will think about your feelings toward them?  Even when they are very young, they can feel the tensions.  Even when they do not understand the words, they will know something isn’t quite right.  And they will always think it’s their fault and that’s why you don’t love them.  Even when it’s your fault for not having disciplined them correctly or soon enough.  Three or four hugs will get them past a deserved and justified spanking.  It will take thirty to undo the hurt of an angry, sarcastic parent.

            The last time Silas was with us I told him how proud I was of him, the way he took his medicine without fuss, the way he sat still in church and behaved in Bible class, the way he always brushed and flossed his teeth without having to be told.  I told him how proud I was of how he took care of his little brother.  He looked up at me the whole time, his attention never wavering, with his eyes shining and a big smile on his face. 

           “I love you, Grandma,” he said.
           
           And of course, I got some sugar too. 
 
As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him…and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, Ps 103:13; Titus 2:4.

My grandsons have “buddies,” their favorite stuffed animals/characters/items to sleep with.  For Silas it is a soft fabric Spiderman, a well-worn and slightly dingy Puppy, and his “blankie,” a receiving blanket that has been with him since he was an infant.  For Judah it’s Lucky the Tiger (stuffed of course), Marshall (a stuffed Dalmatian he named after the Paw Patrol character), and his blankie, Leo, several times bigger than his brother’s.  They go with them everywhere.  On any sort of trip, you will see those buddies in the back seat.  Sometimes they are not in the arms of those little guys, but just their presence somewhere nearby has a calming effect.

Can they do without them?  Yes, they can.  They never take them into the church meetinghouse, or into a restaurant, and especially not to school.  Their primary function is as bedtime buddies.  However, should they become frightened or upset, guess who they look for?  Guess what they ask for?  When the tears start, guess what Mommy and Daddy start scouring the house for?  Once they are found, the relief is instant.  No more crying.  No more fear.  No more worries about what lies ahead.  They have their buddies, and they are just fine.  They will even tolerate being left with a babysitter or taken two plus hours north to Grandma’s house for several days without Mom and Dad as long as those buddies are with them.

At the risk of sounding irreverent, isn’t that how God and our Lord should be to us?  Shouldn’t we recognize their presence every day, in fact, plead for their presence in our lives and be grateful for it?  When things go awry, as they will sooner or later in everyone’s life, shouldn’t they be the ones we look for?  And once we are assured of their presence, shouldn’t the relief be instant?  Isn’t that what faith is all about?

Hannah could not have children, it seemed, the great longing of every Hebrew woman.  In addition, her rival wife “provoked her” constantly.  She was “in great bitterness” and “wept sorely” (1 Sam 1:10).  What did she do?  She went to God and prayed her heart out.  “I poured out my soul before Jehovah,” she told Samuel (v 15).  And what happened afterward?  “Her countenance was no longer sad (v 18).

What do you do when a crisis rears its ugly head?  What do you rely on?  Who do you count on?  What calms your fears and dispels your worries?  Hannah knew who her real Buddy was, and He calmed her as no one else could.  If your “buddies” are anyone or anything besides your Father and Older Brother, you will be sorely disappointed in the results.  Those little boys will go anywhere as long as they have their buddies.  We sing a song, “If Jesus goes with me, I’ll go—anywhere.”  Can you?
 
I know that the LORD will maintain the cause of the afflicted, and will execute justice for the needy. Surely the righteous shall give thanks to your name; the upright shall dwell in your presence, Ps 140:12-13.
Dene Ward

We did Lamaze just like all the other young couples when we had our boys.  But things did not work out quite like they were supposed to.  Something in the structure of my hips kept my babies from turning over facedown.  They were head down, not breach, but face up is a similar problem.  "Sunny side up," the OB nurses called it, so their little necks could not bend far enough to make that last curve and the first delivery was far more traumatic than it should have been.  Eventually the old country doctor we had in the cornfields of Illinois just yanked Lucas out with "high forceps."  By the time Nathan was born we were in a larger city and the doctor there, when confronted with the same problem, refused to do something so "barbaric."  "We don't do that here," he told me.  But I was fully dilated and ready to deliver so we had an emergency C-section. 
            Either way meant I did not have that first little cuddle with a newborn.  I was still under anesthesia with Nathan, and Lucas had been stuck in the birth canal so long his heartbeat was slowing and he needed extra care.  Finally about 4 hours after Lucas was born, I sat up gingerly on the side of the bed and they brought my newborn and placed him in my arms.  Of course he was precious and I loved him instantly, but the first thing I saw were his eyes.  They looked exactly like mine and I nearly cried.
            If you have been with me awhile, you know the eye saga.  I have so many rare conditions based primarily on the size and shape of my eyes that I have been told it's a wonder I got past 20 without losing my vision entirely.  And there he was, with exactly the same almond shaped eyes.  My eye doctor at the time insisted I take him in at six months and he examined him as well as you can a baby that size.  When he smiled and said, "He's just fine," I wanted to laugh and cry and do a jig all at the same time.  He may look like me, but down inside the workings of those eyeballs, he is not the same at all.  Praise God!
            But here is something we should all wonder:  what other things has my child inherited from me?  Not sin, of course.  We won't even argue that today.  But all of us have seen children grow up to act just like their parents.  Sometimes they take a tiny little flaw and take it to its logical and much larger end.  "How can you act that way?" parents will often say, and then cringe in horror as their children tell them.  We may have an unwritten line we will never cross.  They see the line for what it is—hypocrisy—and march right over it.
            It's fun to see ourselves in old photos of our parents, or even our ancestors from way back.  Every photo of my father as a child shows him crossing his feet, even in a high chair.  I did it as well, in every picture my mother had of me.  Lucas did not, but Nathan did, and now both of my grandsons, Nathan's sons, have done it.  But there are far more important things to look for, some we want to see and some we don't.  Look at your children and grandchildren today.  Watch them, train them.  That's what God expects of us.  He wants us all laughing, crying, and doing a jig on judgment day when we see those precious souls inherit a home in Heaven, despite their ancestors' flaws, including ours.
 
Give ear, O my people, to my law: Incline your ears to the words of my mouth. I will open my mouth in a parable; I will utter dark sayings of old, Which we have heard and known, And our fathers have told us. We will not hide them from their children, Telling to the generation to come the praises of Jehovah, And his strength, and his wondrous works that he hath done. For he established a testimony in Jacob, And appointed a law in Israel, Which he commanded our fathers, That they should make them known to their children; That the generation to come might know them, even the children that should be born; Who should arise and tell them to their children, That they might set their hope in God, And not forget the works of God, But keep his commandments, (Ps 78:1-7).
 
Dene Ward

My two grandsons love to go to the park.  They love to swing and slide.  I’m not sure they have discovered the joys of my own childhood favorite—the seesaw.  Back then I was always looking for someone else to sit on the other end, and seldom found the perfect playmate.  She was always either too heavy or too light to balance it out, and one of us always hit the ground with a bang.  As for the boys, I usually put both of them on one side while I sit on the other, carefully balancing things with my own legs so they don't bounce off the top and I don't hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud.
            Over the years I have come to see that God requires His own kind of balance.  Nearly every major fault of His people has come with that old pendulum swing—from one extreme to the other.  From undisciplined emotionalism to empty ritualism, from faith only to works salvation—we struggle all the time to get the balance just right.  “Obedience from the heart,” Paul calls it in Rom 6:17.  And it has been so for thousands of years.
            In our Psalms class, we came upon another passage recently that emphasized yet again the problem of balance.  Over and over and over you read things like this:
            …you have tested me and you will find nothing; I have purposed that my mouth will not transgress, 17:4
I have kept the ways of the Lord and have not wickedly departed from God, 18:21.
            Vindicate me, O LORD, for I have walked in my integrity, and I have trusted in the LORD without wavering, 26:1.
            It always bothered me a little when I saw passages like this, especially the ones written by David, as these three are.  Isn’t he being a little arrogant?  Especially him?
            But, as with all the Bible, you have to put things together to find the balance point.  Psalm 130, one of the Psalms of Ascents, certainly shows the opposite feeling:  If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand? v 3.  After that, another quickly came to mind:  Enter not for judgment with your servant; for in your sight no man living is righteous, 143:2.
            The psalmists all seemed to understand the balance.  No one deserves salvation, but yes, we can be righteous in God’s eyes when we do our best to serve Him, when obedience is offered willingly, when adoration, reverence, and gratitude are the motivations behind every thought and action, when we don’t just do some right things, we become righteous.  The author of Psalms 130 goes on to say, “But there is forgiveness with you…” and “with Jehovah there is lovingkindness and…plenteous redemption.”          
            These men saw that salvation was a matter of a relationship with God, not ritualistic obedience nor self-serving obsequiousness, both of which are more about “me” than the God I claim to worship.  They proclaimed the balance that would fall before the Lord in reverence and service and yet stand before a Father singing praise and thanksgiving. 
            And I love that they did not feel required to offer qualifications to what they said.  “I am righteous,” they said, not bothering to add, “but I know I have sinned in the past, and may sin in the future.”  They never let the false beliefs of others compel them to soften a strong statement of faith in their Lord to do what He says He will—be merciful.  Why are we always dampening the assurance of our hope by pandering to the false teaching of others?  Let’s strive for perfect balance with this long ago anonymous brother:  With Jehovah there is plenteous redemption, and he shall redeem us!
 
Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, Whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man unto whom Jehovah does not impute iniquity, And in whose spirit there is no guile, Ps 32:1-2.
These things have I written…that you may know you have eternal life, 1 John 5:13
 
Dene Ward