Joseph Lodge opened his first foundry in South Pittsburg, Tennessee in 1896, naming it after a friend:  The Blacklock Foundry.  In May 1910 it burned to the ground, but he opened again a few blocks south with an initial filing date as a For Profit Corporation on August 19, 1910, naming it the Lodge Manufacturing Company.  It has been going strong for over 100 years, and my own skillet came from that company.

            I grew up watching my mother use her cast iron skillet.  She fried chicken, hamburgers, eggs, country fried steak, pork chops, and hash in it.  I suppose I began with grilled cheese sandwiches, something I still love but have to limit now.  Some days, though, a crisp on the outside, gooey on the inside, hot all over, buttered pair of bread slices (usually multi-grain in a nod to health) is the only thing that will satisfy.

              When I received my own cast iron skillet as a wedding present I was confused.  My mother’s was deep black, smooth and shiny.  This thing was the same shape, the same heft, but gray, dull, and rough.  “You have to season it,” she told me, and even though I followed the directions exactly, greasing and heating it over and over and over, it was probably ten years before my skillet finally began to look like hers.  Seasoning cannot be done quickly, no matter what they say, and in the early stages can be undone with a moment’s carelessness—like scrubbing it in a sink full of hot soapy water.  A good skillet is never scrubbed, never even wet, but simply wiped out, a thin patina of oil left on the surface.             

              Faith is a little like a cast iron skillet—it has to be seasoned.  Let me explain.

              In the middle of some study a few weeks ago I made a discovery that made me laugh out loud.  “…the churches were strengthened in the faith,” we are told in Acts 16:5.  I am not a Greek scholar, but sometimes just looking at a word gives you a clue.  The word translated “strengthened” is stereoo.  “Stereo?” I thought, automatically anglicizing it, and a moment later got the point.  Faith may begin as “mono”—undoubtedly the Philippian jailor who believed and was baptized “in the same hour of the night” had a one dimensional faith.  He hadn’t had time to develop beyond the point of “I believe that Jesus is the Son of God,” but I imagine after awhile he had seasoned his faith with layer after layer of growth.  It had become a “stereo” faith.

              Think about it.  The Abraham who left Ur at the word of God, giving up far more than we usually realize in worldly goods and prominence, was not the same Abraham who offered his son over forty years later.  That first Abraham was still so timid he would willingly deceive people about the woman traveling with him.  Yet God did not give up on him, and he did not give up on God.  He grew, adding layer after layer to a faith that eventually made him the father of the faithful.

              The Peter who tried to walk on water may have shortly thereafter confessed Christ, but he wasn’t the same Peter who sat in Herod’s prison in Acts 12, and he certainly wasn’t the same Peter who ultimately lost his life for his Lord.  He used all the earlier experiences to season a faith that endured to the end.

              It isn’t that God is not satisfied with the faith we have at any given moment, but He does expect us to grow, to season that faith with years of endurance and service.  Seasoning takes heat, and the heat of affliction may be the thing that seasons us.  We never know what may be required, but God expects us to keep adding those layers, to get beyond the “mono” faith to a “stereo” faith, a multi-faceted, deeply layered condition, not just a little saying we repeat when we want to prove we are Christians.

              How does your skillet look today?  Is it still gray and rough, or have you taken the time to season it with prayer and study, enduring the heat of toil and affliction, and turned it into an indispensable tool, one you use everyday to feed and strengthen your soul?
 
For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another. My heart faints within me! Job 19:25-27
 
Dene Ward

You can find a million diets out there, but there is one thing none of them can get around:  your calorie intake must be less than your calorie usage if you want to lose weight.  That doesn’t mean it is easy or that other things do not play into it.  Just ask a middle-aged woman about the difficulties of losing weight, and you will get an earful.  I can vouch for those “other things” myself, having gone through middle age and now arrived at “old age.”  It’s true—several million women could not make this up and it not be valid.  Be that as it may, you still must count those calories and burn up more than you take in.

             The very first calorie counting diet book was written by Lulu Hunt Peters, copyrighted August 14, 1918.  Diet and Health: With Key to the Calories was a best seller.  Dr. Hunt knew what it meant to be overweight and to diet.  She lost 70 lbs. on her diet plan of maintaining 1200 calories a day.  Her book was witty and entertaining.  Just a for instance, the title itself was a parody of Mary Baker Eddy's Science and Health: With Key to the Scriptures.

              Keith and I do more calorie counting these days.  Our activity level has decreased due to illness and just being too old and tired to do as much.  That means we have to be much more diligent than before when Keith was riding his bike 50-75 miles a week and I was jogging 25-30 miles a week.  Something about being in your 60s slows you down a bit.

              The other morning I was making a light version of baklava—half the calories and a third the fat of the ordinary Greek pastry.  I had phyllo dough leftover that I needed to use up and a brand new jar of raw honey. Such was my excuse that day—but at least I had found this lighter version.  After I poured the honey syrup over the baked dough, Keith came along behind me with a spoon and started scraping the pan.  In between licks he said, “This doesn’t count, right?”  Oh, if only… 

              I heard a chef say one time that he had to work out about two hours a day to burn off the estimated 6000 calories he took in just tasting the dishes he made before sending them out to his customers.  I get it.  My local brethren have so many potlucks (at least two a month for some of us), plus company meals and family meals, wedding and baby showers, that I am sure most of my extra calories come from that tasting.  No way will I send something out there that I don’t know is good.  And if I took diet food to a potluck I just might be excommunicated.

              Yes, those calories count.  And so do those little bitty sins—you know, the little white lies to keep yourself out of trouble, the little bits of gossip that you just can’t seem to keep to yourself, the pens and paper clips you “borrow” from work, that side job you did for a little extra cash that doesn’t get reported the next April.  We seem to think that because we assemble on Sunday mornings and don’t do the big bad sins—the ones in the Ten Commandments—that nothing else counts.  The fact that our language makes people think less of the body of a Sacrificed Savior never seems to cross our minds. 

              The Treasury of Scriptural Knowledge states that the Jews believed that “he who observed any principal command was equal to him who kept the whole law.”  Their example was idolatry.  If you didn’t worship an idol, you were good to go!  The little stuff didn’t matter.  All you have to do is read about Jesus’ dealings with the Pharisees in the gospels and you can see the results of that doctrine.

              First century Christians must have had the same problem.  “He who keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it,” James said in 2:10.  The context?  People who said they had faith but didn’t take care of the sick and needy, or visit the fatherless and widows, or welcome the strangers to their assemblies.  The same God who said, “Do not kill,” also said, “Do not commit adultery,” he reminds them.  All sins count in God’s eyes.

              This is not new with God.  Ezekiel said in chapter 33:12,13, “The righteousness of the righteous shall not deliver him in the day of his transgression…if he trust to his righteousness, and commit iniquity, none of his righteous deeds shall be remembered, but in his iniquity which he has committed, therein shall he die.”

              Yep, all those calories count, no matter how small the spoon or how tiny the taste.  And so do all those sins.  The only cure for the problem is to quit sampling the goods.
 
Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments, and shall teach men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven: but whosoever shall do and teach them, he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 5:19
 
Dene Ward

Today we had a Caribbean dinner—jerk grilled chicken breasts with tropical salsa, and sautéed sweet potato cakes.  We are not much for hot food so making my own jerk seasoning is a bonus—I can cut the red pepper in half.  As for the salsa, one tiny red jalapeno, seeded, ribbed, and finely diced, was plenty with the mango, pineapple, avocado, and onion.

              Ah, but those jalapenos do leave their mark.  Ordinarily I wash my hands half a dozen times during the course of cooking dinner, but I had finished with the raw chicken, the creamy avocado, and the sweet, slick mango so I hadn't washed them again after dicing that pepper and never even thought about it.

              After dinner we made our usual after-dinner-before-dishes walk to survey our little realm.  Keith absently reached down and held my hand.  Then he just as absently reached up with that same hand and scratched his eyelid.  At least it was his lid.  About the same time Chloe came up behind me and licked my dangling hand.  The next thing I knew Keith had a clean cloth up to dab his running eye and Chloe was at the water bucket lapping as quickly as she could.  I came inside and washed my hands immediately.

              We are often just as clueless as I was today about the influence we have on others.  One word, one thoughtless act, even one look can have repercussions that last for days, or weeks, or even years.  Paul reminded the Corinthians that "a little leaven leavens the whole lump" and told Timothy that the words of two specific men "eat like gangrene" (1 Cor 5:6; 2 Tim 2:17).

              The prevalent attitude I hear, even among brothers and sisters, is "that's their problem."  No.  God makes it plain that it is my problem when my influence causes others to fall.
Therefore, if food makes my brother stumble, I will never eat meat, lest I make my brother stumble. (1Cor 8:13)
And whosoever shall cause one of these little ones that believe on me to stumble, it were better for him if a great millstone were hanged about his neck, and he were cast into the sea. (Mark 9:42)

               It's time we grew up and realized our responsibility to others.  We will be judged for every "idle word," Jesus says.  That's a word we said without thought, without concern for others, without owning up to our responsibility for every little thing that escapes our tongues.  James says "Be…slow to speak…" not because you are slow-witted but because I am actually taking the time to consider what I am about to say before it's too late.  Sounds like an excellent reason to shut up once in a while, especially if I am prone to talk just to hear myself talk.
 ​When words are many, transgression is not lacking, but whoever restrains his lips is prudent. (Prov 10:19)

               Don't forget to wash the jalapenos off your hands.
 
And he said to his disciples, “Temptations to sin are sure to come, but woe to the one through whom they come! (Luke 17:1)
 
Dene Ward

It is axiomatic:  men cannot see dirt.

              Whenever Keith leaves the kitchen, I enter it, looking for the mess he has left.  No, it is not obvious, especially when you have a mottled medium shade of brown countertop.  But as a woman, I automatically know to wipe a countertop after I have done anything on top of it, whether I can see anything there or not.  He thinks because he cannot see it, it isn’t there.  So I wipe up cracker crumbs, cookie crumbs, salt, coffee grounds, peanut butter smears, and assorted beverage circles several times a day.

              That doesn’t mean he is dirty.  If I ask him to clean the tub for me, you will have never heard such scrubbing and scouring and huffing and puffing in all your life.  It sparkles when he is finished.  Whenever he washes dishes for me, he will spend a good half hour on a black pot bottom I have long since given up on.  No, he is not dirty.   He is just not used to looking for the mess until I ask him to.  Then he makes the effort with an eye to what is not clean, and suddenly, he sees it.

              We all have that problem when looking for the dirt in our own lives.  We simply cannot see it.  But in someone else?  That’s simple, and it is so because we have an eye for the dirt in others’ lives, especially those we don’t like much. 

              Many country wives tell their husbands again and again that it is impossible to get all the dirt and mud off those athletic shoes and work boots with the deep treads on the bottom.  “But I wiped my feet,” they say, and walk right in, shoes and all.  Then after they leave, we women get out the brooms and the dustpans, or in some cases, the mops and pails. 

              Some people just will not believe you when you tell them over and over and over that their actions will cost them their souls, that they will become inured to worldliness and think nothing of it, and that other people will suffer because of the dirt they leave behind them.  They reach the point that they blind themselves to the obvious facts in front of them. 

              Today, make it a point to look for the dirt in your own life instead of others’.  Do it while you still can see it.  One of these days even a microscope won’t help, and then where will you be?  You will find yourself living a life full of dirt and stains that would have disgusted you not long before, but which have become invisible to you.  You will find yourself eating off a filthy countertop of sin that will kill you with its toxic germs sooner or later.
 
And why behold the mote that is in your brother's eye, but consider not the beam that is in your own eye? How will you say to your brother, Let me pull the mote out of your eye; and, behold, a beam is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first cast the beam out of your own eye; and then shall you see clearly to cast the mote out of your brother's eye. Matt 7:3-5.
 
Dene Ward

I have a pretty amazing recipe for peanut butter cookies.  Here it is:  peanut butter, sugar, and an egg.  Period.  You do add a mere teaspoon of vanilla, but no flour at all, no salt, no soda or other chemical leavenings—that's why they are "unbelievable."  They are nearly pure peanut butter, but somehow they hold together.  Do you suppose that is why they taste so good?  Nothing else to dull the flavor.  If you are a peanut butter fanatic, you will love these cookies.
              When I first saw the recipe, I said, "No way.  They forgot the flour, at least."  But then I read the recipe itself and right there in the text was the statement, "No.  I did not forget the flour."  Then, and only then, did I try them.  They remain to this day, the only peanut butter cookie I make.  I have a few other cookie recipes where peanut butter is an ingredient, but none other where the peanut butter is the star.  And I am here to tell you:  it works!
              A lot of folks seemed to think that God got the recipe wrong too.  Seeing that Jews ask for signs, and Greeks seek after wisdom: but we preach Christ crucified, unto Jews a stumblingblock, and unto Gentiles foolishness; but unto them that are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God. (1Cor 1:22-24)
              God becoming man was unthinkable.  The Creator dying on a cross at the hand of his creation was ridiculous to even contemplate.  A kingdom "not of this world" became, and still seems to be, a bone of contention for the religious world.  The kingdom must be a physical kingdom here on this earth, the same problem the Jews had, and even the apostles at the beginning.  The pure and simple gospel of a risen Savior and a spiritual kingdom just can't work, the world continues to say. 
              And the pure and simple kingdom, the church, is no longer relevant in a complicated world, they maintain.  So they add things God never seemed to think of, believing they are improving things.  They change the structure and even the mission of the Lord's body because they know better—better than God does, evidently.
              And yet I have continued to see God's way work just fine my whole life.  I grew up in the arms of parents who carried me to an assembly of the Lord's people every time the doors were opened, who taught me the way at home, and who showed me with their lives what it meant to be a part of that kingdom—a pure and simple kingdom run the same way it did when it began two thousand years ago.  I know it works, firsthand.  The people I worship with today know it works.  We see it all around us.  And as we grow and make new disciples, we see their amazement at the simplicity of the gospel, and watch while they learn what should be obvious to everyone who even claims to be a believer:  God knows what He is doing.  He doesn't need our new-fangled notions and the arrogance that thinks it is wiser than the Creator of us all.
              The simple purity of a life and worship ordained by the authority of the Word of God and the approved example of first century believers instead of the think-sos of men will thrill your soul.  It may be unbelievable at first, but if you stick with the recipe, it will all hold together and you will finally believe.
 
For the word of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us who are saved it is the power of God. For it is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, And the discernment of the discerning will I bring to nought. Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men. (1Cor 1:18,19,25)

For the recipe accompanying this post, click > Dene's Recipes page

Dene Ward

Some have called eggs the perfect food with their own perfect container.  I recently heard a TV cook say they are “hermetically sealed.”  Eggshells themselves are stronger than their reputation says.  After all, birds sit on them for days, and it takes a good deal of effort for a baby bird to peck its way out of one.

            However, it doesn’t take more than one instance of carelessness to discover just how easily they will break.  Mine usually make it home from the grocery store in one piece, in spite of being placed in a cooler with a couple of bags of groceries and an ice block, and then traveling thirty miles, the last half mile over a bumpy lime rock lane.  Only once in over 30 years have I opened my cooler to find eggs that have tumbled out and cracked all over the other groceries.

            You must also be careful where you put them on the counter.  Most recipes require ingredients at room temperature, so I take the butter and eggs out a half hour or more before I plan to use them.  I quickly learned to put them in a small bowl so they couldn’t possibly roll off the countertop onto the floor, even if I did think I had them safely corralled by other ingredients.  Somehow they only roll when you turn your back.  As I recall, that recipe required a lot of eggs, and suddenly I was short a couple.

            Because of their relative fragility, we have developed the idiom “walking on eggshells.”  When the situation is tricky, when someone is already on a short fuse, we tread carefully with our words, as if we were walking carefully, trying not to break the eggshells under our feet.  Sometimes that is a good thing.  No one wants to hurt a person who has just experienced a tragedy.  No one wants to carelessly bring up a topic that might hinder the growth of a babe in Christ.  Certainly no one wants to put out a spark of interest in the gospel.    But sometimes the need to walk on eggshells is a shame, especially when the wrong people have to walk on them.

            I suppose every congregation has one of those members who gives everyone pause; one who has hot buttons you do your best not to push;  one who seems to take offense at the most innocuous statements or actions.  The shame of it is this:  in nearly every case I can remember, that person is over 50, and most over 60.  “You know old brother so-and-so,” everyone will tell newcomers.  “You have to be careful what you say around him.”  Why is it that younger Christians must negotiate minefields around an older Christian who should have grown in wisdom and forbearance?

            Do you think God has nothing to say about people like this? 

            The vexation of a fool is known at once, but the prudent ignores an insult. Pro 12:16
            Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all offenses. Pro 10:12
            Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense. Pro 19:11
            Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 1 Cor 13:7
            Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins. 1 Pet 4:8.

            Now let’s put that all together.  A person who is quick to take offense, who is easily set off when a certain topic arises, who seems to make a career out of hurt feelings is a fool, imprudent, full of hate instead of love, divisive, and lacking good sense.  That’s what God says about the matter.  He didn’t walk on eggshells.

            On the other hand, the person who overlooks insults, who doesn’t take everything the worst possible way, who makes allowances for others’ foibles, especially verbal ones, and who doesn’t tell everyone how hurt or insulted he is, is wise, prudent, sensible, and full of love.  Shouldn’t that describe any Christian, especially one who has been at if for thirty or forty years?

            So, let’s take a good look at ourselves.  Do people avoid me?  Am I defensive, and quick to assume bad motives?   Do I find myself insulted or hurt several times a week?  Do I keep thinking that everyone is out to get me in every arena of life?  Maybe I need to realize that I am not the one that everyone always has in mind when they speak or act.  I am not, after all, the center of the universe.  Maybe it’s time I acted the spiritual age I claim to be.

            Maybe I need to sweep up a few eggshells.
 
Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. Col 3:12-14.
 
Dene Ward

After reading them for so many years, I can skim a recipe and garner all sorts of necessary information in that quick once-over.  Not just whether I have the ingredients, but how long it will take, what I can do ahead of time, what equipment I will need, the substitutions I can make if necessary, and whether I can cut it in half or freeze half of it.  Sometimes, though, a recipe needs a closer reading.

            I made a vegetable lasagna once that turned out well, but was way too big.  I took over half of the leftovers to my women’s class potluck and it got rave reviews and several requests.  So I went home and started typing the two page recipe containing at least two dozen ingredients.  The typing required a careful reading of the recipe so I wouldn’t give anyone wrong amounts or directions, and as I did so I discovered that I had completely forgotten one ingredient and had missed one of the procedures.  Just imagine how good it would have been if I had done the whole thing correctly.

            Too many times we try to read the Bible like I read that recipe, especially the passages we think we already know.  I have said many times to many classes, the biggest hindrance to learning is what you think you already know.  Today I am going to prove it to you.

            Have you ever said, or even taught, that turning the water to wine was the first miracle Jesus ever did?  I know, it’s what all the Bible class curricula say.  Well, it’s your job to check out those lessons with your own careful reading.  Most of the time that means reading far beyond the actual lesson text.  This isn’t even hard to see, but you do have to think about what you see.  Some time today when you have the time—okay, make the time—read the following verses.
 
John 1:45-51--Jesus tells Nathanael that he saw him before it was possible for him to see him.  This was enough of a miracle that it brought a confession from Nathanael: “Rabbi, you are the Son of God, you are the King of Israel”, v 49.
2:11--“This is the first of his signs” (water to wine)
2:23--“Now when he was in Jerusalem at the Passover Feast, many believed on his name when they saw the signs that he was doing.” (Notice, this is an unknown number of signs,)
4:16-19--Jesus tells the woman at the well all about her life, a life he could not have known about except miraculously.  She would later tell her neighbors, “Come see a man who told me all that ever I did.  Can this be the Christ?” v 29.  She certainly thought she had seen a miracle.
4:46-54--Jesus heals the nobleman’s son, which John labels “the second sign that Jesus did.”  What about John 1?  What about 2:23?  What about Samaria?
 
            For years I read “first” and “second,” knowing full well about the other signs before and between them, and didn’t even think about what I was reading. I was reading it like a recipe, a quick once over because I already knew the story.  Now, having seen all the passages together, you can see that “first” and “second” in John 2:11 and 4:54 obviously do not mean the simple chronological “first” and “second” you might think at first glance.  You need the entire context of John to figure it out.

            Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name, John 20:30,31.  Right there John tells you not only why he wrote his book, but that he simply chose certain signs to discuss in detail.  If you do a careful study of the entire book, you will discover that he chose seven, each making a particular point about the power of Jesus that proves his Deity.  No, I am not going to list them for you.  You need to take up your Bibles and figure it out for yourself so you know firsthand.   

            When John says “This is the first,” and “this is the second,” he is simply referring to the list of seven he intends to discuss more fully.  Turning the water to wine was the first on his list, NOT the first miracle Jesus ever did, and all you have to do is read earlier in the book to see at least one more—Nathanael’s.  In fact, you cannot even count the number he did in between the “first” and the “second,” 2:23.

            So, be careful what you believe.  Be even more careful what you teach because that could affect many others.  Pay attention to the details and don’t pull events and verses out of context.  Do you want to know why so many false doctrines spread?  Because people read the “proof texts” like a recipe, a quick scan instead of a careful reading, if indeed they read them at all.

            Don’t skim the Word of God.  Give it the attention it deserves.           
 
And we have something more sure, the prophetic word, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts, 2 Pet 1:19.
 
Dene Ward

My family loves gravy.  I would never think of serving bare rice or naked mashed potatoes.  There must always be gravy. 

            On the other hand, sometimes you cannot have gravy.  When you grill a steak, there is no gravy.  When you smoke a chicken quarter, there is no gravy, and if somehow you did catch the drippings, you wouldn’t want them.  Believe me, I tried it once.  Smoked drippings simply taste bitter.  Oh, you can always fake it with butter, flour, and canned broth, but any gravy connoisseur will know the difference.  You only get really good gravy with fresh meat drippings, flour sizzled in the pan, and some kind of liquid.

            Yet, if your life depended upon it, you would choose the meat over the gravy any time.  You would know that the only real nutritional value, the only real protein, is in the meat and not the gravy.  If you tried to live on nothing but gravy alone, you would soon starve.  You might be round as a beach ball, but you would still starve.

            Too many times we give up the meat for the gravy.  We give up marriages and families for the sake of career and money.  We give up a spiritual family that will help us no matter what for fair weather friends who won’t.  We even give up our souls for the sake of good times, status, and convenience.

            Then there are the times when it seems like life makes no gravy.  So we give up God because he dared to allow something less than ease, comfort, and fun into our lives.  Can’t have the gravy too?  Then I don’t want you, Lord.  You’re going to give up a grilled rib eye because it doesn’t come with gravy?  Really?

            I doubt we realize exactly what we are doing.  The problem is that we have things reversed.  We think this life is the meat, and the next is just the gravy.  That is what we are saying when we give up on God because things didn’t turn out so well here.  Justin Martyr, a philosopher who was converted to Christianity in the early half of the second century wrote, “Since our thoughts are not fixed on the present, we are not concerned when men put us to death.  Death is a debt we must all pay anyway” First Apology, chapter 11. 

            Can we say that, or are we too addicted to our pleasure loving, wealthy culture?  The first Christians converted with the knowledge that they would probably lose everything they owned and die within a matter of weeks, if not days.  And us?  We are out there looking for the gravy and blaming God for his scanty menu.

            The fact is we do have some gravy promised in this life.  We just look for it in the wrong places.  Then Peter said in reply, "See, we have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?" Jesus said to them …everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands, for my name's sake, will receive a hundredfold and will inherit eternal life. Matt 19:27,29.  Are you still looking to the world for your gravy?  Jesus plainly says the place to look is in your spiritual family.  When it works as he intended--even if it only comes close—it is far better than anything the world will ever offer you.

            So remember where to find your spiritual sustenance.  Remember where to go when times are rough and you need a hand.  And even those things are not the meat.  The meat is eternal life with a Creator who loved you enough to die.

            Everything else is just gravy.
 
…train yourself for godliness; for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come, 1 Tim 4:7,8.
 
Dene Ward

We had been unhappy with our griddle for a good while, so Keith went online shopping and found an appliance called a Griddler, put out by Cuisinart.  This little contraption with two heating elements that can either lie flat next to each other or fold over on each other, and with four interchangeable plates, two of which are double-sided, can be a panini press, a grill pan, a waffle iron, or it can be opened flat and used as a griddle.

              It does have a few disadvantages.  Because of the two separate plates with an inch space between them, you can only fit four pancakes on it at once instead of six, but there are only two of us so that's no problem.  It seems to take longer for the pancakes to cook, too.  However, the panini we get are amazingly crisp and with the grill plates, you can grill both sides at once, making that process much faster. 

              The plates—flat, grill-marked, and waffled—are nonstick.  Boy, are they nonstick.  You want to know how I found out?

              When I pour pancake batter on this thing, I have no trouble at all.  Maybe it is because they immediately begin to cook and the batter is thick enough not to run.  But eggs are another thing entirely.  Evidently the side that is the "top" if you fold it, does not sit exactly flat when opened up.  It looks close enough that I did not realize that.

              One day we decided to have breakfast for dinner.  I preheated the pan and, just because my husband likes it that way, I put a teaspoon of bacon grease on the already slick surface.  Then I poured on the raw eggs. 

              Immediately the eggs slid over to the side of the pan.  Before I could move, one had slid onto the counter and down onto the floor—splat!--between my feet.  I managed by then to get my flipper flat end standing on the surface of the pan at the rim, but that didn't stop it fast enough.  All the eggs kept sliding, building up around my flipper edge until they started oozing around the sides of it and headed for the fall once again.  I grabbed another flipper and stood it up on the rim of the pan next to the first one to catch a larger portion of the running egg whites.

              Meanwhile, I started hollering, probably nothing intelligible.  At this point I was straddling one egg and holding two flippers erect trying to keep the rest of the eggs on the pan.  Keith came running and saw what was happening.  He grabbed some paper towels and knelt down between my feet to clean up the floor.  That meant I had to squat a bit to fit his shoulders in there.  I wish I had a picture—but then, maybe not.  Finally I could actually move my feet without stepping into eggs and sliding across the floor.  He grabbed one of the flippers while I raked a little of the now cooked egg white back from the lip of the pan with the other and made a nice little dam.  Another minute and I could flip the eggs over and they actually stayed put.

              We stepped back, a little winded, shaking our heads at what had just happened.  The two of us working together meant we had only lost one egg and, believe it or not, the others were cooked perfectly.

              Now imagine if he had looked over, seen what was happening and said, "That was a stupid thing to do."

              Or, "If you hadn't poured them out so quickly that wouldn't have happened."

              Or, "That's your job not mine."

              Or, "Someone else will take care of it."

              Or, "That's not my talent," and hadn't lifted a finger to help.

           We wouldn't have had dinner, and we would have probably lost far more than one egg.

           Too bad that's what happens in the church too often.  And it's deplorable that too often in our judgmental, self-serving apathy we lose far more than one soul-less little egg.
 
Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love. (Eph 4:15-16)
 
Dene Ward

Cooking is a funny thing.  Sometimes you can mess around with it and sometimes you can’t.  My recipe for minestrone is not something a purist would recognize as minestrone, and it’s never the same.  Some of it depends upon what’s in the refrigerator, and some of it comes from our likes and dislikes.  You can change it around, but as long as it winds up as a brothy soup with a bunch of vegetables in it, some kind of pasta, and some Mediterranean herbs, you can call it minestrone.  You really can’t mess it up unless you do something just plain weird with it, like pouring in a bottle of molasses.

            Baking is another matter.  You must think long and hard before you change anything in a recipe for baked goods.  If you don’t, it can fall, or not rise, or be too dry to choke down, or so “short” that it turns into crumbs when you touch it.  If you use baking soda, you must have an acid like buttermilk or sour cream.  If you get any fat in your egg whites they won’t whip.  If you don’t heat the liquid, your yeast won’t rise, but if you heat it too much you kill it. Baking is chemistry and it does make a difference.

            A lot of people don’t want to follow any sort of recipe in their religion.  They think it is about good hearts, sincere love, and feeling good, none of which is quantifiable, and therefore none of which can be legislated.  They will proclaim that the early church did things differently depending upon the location and the culture, and in some cases they are correct.  Just like cooking minestrone can be varied according to the ingredients on hand and the palates of the eaters.  But sometimes it is like baking—it does make a difference if you don’t want your cake to fall.

            The word may not be used in the New Testament, but the concept of an appropriate orthodoxy is there in black and white.

            And when they had appointed elders for them in every church, with prayer and fasting they committed them to the Lord in whom they had believed. Acts 14:23.

            That is why I sent you Timothy, my beloved and faithful child in the Lord, to remind you of my ways in Christ, as I teach them everywhere in every church. 1 Cor 4:17.

            Only let each person lead the life that the Lord has assigned to him, and to which God has called him. This is my rule in all the churches. 1 Cor 7:17.

            For God is not a God of confusion but of peace. As in all the churches of the saints, I Cor 14:33.

            Now concerning the collection for the saints: as I directed the churches of Galatia, so you also are to do. 1 Cor 16:1.

            There are certain things the apostles expected to be done everywhere.  The methods were not always specified, and that’s where we get to choose our ingredients, but the other things are religious “baking”—things that must be done for our service to God to be acceptable.  If we think we can change the chemistry we are wrong.  Put egg whites in a greasy bowl and they will not turn into a beautiful meringue no matter how sincerely you beat them.

            As you can plainly see from the passages quoted above, God expects some control over our service to him.  Some folks chafe at the idea that we cannot change anything and everything about our religious service at our own whims.  Israel had the same problem and wound up in Babylonian captivity.  Don’t make the mistakes they did.
 
He will render to each one according to his works: to those who by patience in well-doing seek for glory and honor and immortality, he will give eternal life; but for those who are self-seeking and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, there will be wrath and fury, Rom 2:6-8.
 
Dene Ward