Everyone who cooks on a budget knows what filler is.  If you called things by the order of their ingredients, I served my family dumplings and chicken, spaghetti with sauce and meat, and potato and beef stew.  At times it should probably have been called loaf meat instead of meat loaf.  Even now the two of us split a chicken breast between us or share one pork chop, then load the plate with “filler.”  Filler is the cheap stuff, the stuff that costs a miniscule amount of the protein on the plate, but fills up the eater twice as fast—potatoes, rice, noodles, bread. 

              Sometimes we treat certain verses in the Bible as filler.  We skim the genealogies and miss relationships and facts that would open up the ‘more interesting” parts.  We treat the addresses and farewells in the epistles the same way.

              All who are with me send greetings to you. Greet those who love us in the faith. Grace be with you all, Titus 3:15. 

              I was working on some class material on faith when I read that passage and nearly skipped over it as useless.  Then I found an alternate translation, one of those I seldom look at because they are just a bit too loose, but it opened my mind to the possibilities in this verse.  Greetings to you from everyone here. Greet all of our friends who share in our faith. I pray that the Lord will be kind to all of you! (Contemporary English Version)

              Look at that middle sentence:  Greet all of our friends who share in our faith.  Now read the other one again. Greet those who love us in the faith.

              How many of your friends and neighbors will tell you that you can be a Christian without participating in what they sneeringly call “organized religion?”  What they mean by that is they can have faith in God without having to worry about being members of a church, answering to the ordained authority in that church, or being obligated to serve anyone else in that church.  Yet Paul told Titus that part of being in the faith was recognizing (greeting) the others who share that faith with you, those who, because of that shared faith, love you. 

              Those friends will tell you, “Of course I love people,” but John said, “Let us not love in word or in talk, but in deed and in truth,” 1 John 3:18.  You can’t sit at home in your easy chair and love anyone.

              The New Testament tells us in passage after passage that our lives are judged by how we treat “one another.”  Love one another, we are told.  Be at peace with one another.  Welcome one another.  Instruct one another.  Wait for one another.  Care for one another.  Comfort one another.  Agree with one another.  Serve one another.  Bear one another’s burdens. Be kind to one another and forgive one another.  Bear with one another.  Submit to one another.  Encourage one another.  Show hospitality to one another.  Confess your faults to one another.  Consider one another.  Exhort one another.  Do good to one another.  I defy anyone to do these things outside the fellowship of a group of people.

              And I pity anyone who has not experienced the joy of bumping into a brother or sister as you run your daily errands, who has not felt instant camaraderie with people you have never met before when you walk into a meetinghouse in an unfamiliar city, the absolute sense of haven and relief that spreads through you simply because you and someone else are bound by the grace of God.  As Paul seems to imply in that “filler” of a verse, it cannot help but affect your faith.
 
…and the Lord added to the church daily such as were being saved, Acts 2:47.
 
Dene Ward

We eat a lot of soup.  It’s cheap, filling, and healthy.  Even a 400 calorie bowlful is a good meal, and most are far less fattening, coming in at about 200 per serving.  You won’t get tired of it because of the nearly infinite variety. 

              We have had ham and bean soup, navy bean soup, and white bean and rosemary soup.  We’ve had cream of potato soup, baked potato soup, and loaded baked potato soup.  I’ve made bouillabaisse, chicken tortilla, pasta Fagioli, and egg drop soups.  For more special occasions I have prepared shrimp bisque, French onion, and vichyssoise.  We’ve warmed our bones with gumbo, mulligatawny, and clam chowder.  I’ve made practically every vegetable soup there is including broccoli cheese soup, roasted tomato soup, and lentil soup.  And if you want just plain soup, I have even made chicken noodle.  You can have soup every week for a year and not eat the same one twice.

              Not only is it cheap to make, it’s usually cheap to buy.  Often the lowest priced item on a menu is a cup of soup.  I can remember it less than a dollar in my lifetime.  Even now it’s seldom over $3.50.  So why in the world would I ever exchange a bowl of soup for something valuable?

              By now your mind should have flashed back to Jacob and Esau.  Jacob must have been some cook.  I have seen the soup he made that day described as everything from lentils to kidney beans to meat stew.  It doesn’t really matter.  It was a simple homespun dish, not even a gourmet concoction of some kind.

              Usually people focus on Jacob, tsk-tsk-ing about his conniving and manipulation, but think about Esau today.  Yes, he was tired and hungry after a day’s hunt.  But was he really going to starve?  I’ve had my men come in from a day of chopping wood and say, “I could eat a horse,” but not only did I not feed them one, they would not have eaten it if I had.  “I’m starving,” is seldom literal.

              The Bible makes Esau’s attitude plain.  After selling his birthright—his double inheritance—for a bowl of soup, Moses writes, Thus Esau despised his birthright, Gen 25:34.  If that inheritance had the proper meaning to him, it would have taken far more than any sort of meal to get it away from him.  As it was, that was one expensive bowl of soup!

              The Hebrew writer uses another word for Esau—profane--a profane person such as Esau, who for one mess of meat sold his own birthright, Heb 12:16.  That word means “unholy.”  It means things pertaining to fleshly existence as opposed to spiritual, things relevant to men rather than God.  It is the exact opposite of “sacred” and “sanctified.”  Jacob understood the value of the birthright, and he also understood his brother’s carnal nature.  He had him pegged.  So did God.

              What important things are we selling for a mess of pottage?  Have you sold your family for the sake of a career?  Have you sold your integrity for the sake of wealth?  Have you sold your marriage for the sake of a few “I told you so’s?”  Have you sold your place in the body of Christ for a few opinions?  Have you sold your soul for the pleasure you can have here and now?

              Examine your life today, the things you have settled for instead of working for, the things you have given up and the things you gave them up for.  Have you made some really bad deals?  Can you even recognize the true value of what you have lost?  Don’t despise the blessings God has given you.  Don’t sell your family, or your character, or your soul for a bowl of soup.
 
Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us. For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, Phil 3:17-20.
 
Dene Ward
 

I have never been artistic.  The best portrait I ever drew was a stick man.  I could never decorate a house.  I have friends who can walk into a store, look at a picture or wall hanging and say, “That would look great over the table in the foyer.”  Would it?  I have no idea.  Good thing we never had a foyer.

              The same is true for my cooking.  I could never make anything look like the picture.  In fact, my boys learned to judge the taste of things by how ugly they were.  If it fell apart on the plate when I served it, they shouted, “Oh boy!  This is going to be good!”  Food stylists?  People who actually make a living making food look artistic?  The mere thought of it just confuses me.

              I am just as happy to have naturally curly hair.  It will only do what it wants to.  Saves me a lot of trouble trying to figure out what sort of hairdo would “enhance” my features.  Which brings me to the point of all this—true beauty.  When a people become so wealthy they can spend thousands on plastic surgery, worry about whether their teeth are white enough, and spend so much time making a plate look “pretty” that the food gets cold, we have become just a little too worried about how things look instead of how things are.

              I came across the passage, One thing have I asked of Jehovah, that will I seek after; That I may dwell in the house of Jehovah all the days of my life, To behold the beauty of Jehovah, And to inquire in his temple. (Psa 27:4)  So I wondered, what is “the beauty of Jehovah?”  It obviously has nothing to do with white teeth, high cheekbones, and hour glass figures.  (Hurray!)

              It only took a little cross-referencing to find Psalm 63:2-5.  Jehovah’s power, his glory, and his lovingkindness make him beautiful.  Surely there are many other traits, but those certainly stand out from the various “gods” of the people around the Israelites.  Petty, spiteful, and cruel well describe the idols the Gentiles worshipped, then and even into the first century.  Read the mythology of the Greek gods and you will find the most loathsome characteristics ever attributed to a deity.  How could anyone even think of worshipping such things?  Yet they did, and actively resisted Jehovah, a God of beautiful character who was not unknown to them.

              It makes sense then that his people would be judged by similar things.  Deut 4:6-8 tells us that Israel would be judged as a wise and understanding people, whose God was near them and whose laws were righteous.  Are we “beautiful,” a people whom God would be pleased to call his own?  Are we wise and understanding?  Are we righteous?  Is God near us, or do we keep him as far away as possible except when we need him?  Jesus condemned the Pharisees because they were worried more about the outside than the inside—they made pretty plates, but had ugly insides (Matt 23:25,26). 

              In general the world is blind to true beauty, whether in a picture, on a plate, or in a person.  It makes sense that they would not consider the gospel beautiful either.  “Foolishness” Paul says they call it.  Just as it takes a hungry man to see the true beauty of a plate of good food, it takes a hungry soul to see the beauty of the gospel.  As it is written, "How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!" Paul quotes Isaiah in Rom 10:15.  Is that what appeals to you?  Or does it have to be some feel good piece of fluff that makes you laugh a lot before it’s worth listening to?

              One of these days we will see the beauty of Jehovah, His glory and power.  I wonder how many will think it isn’t beautiful, but horrifying instead, and only because they never desired to see it in the first place.
 
And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled only to those who are perishing. In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. 2 Cor 4:3-4.
 
Dene Ward

Whew!  It’s over for another year.  Some of it is in the freezer—blueberries, strawberries, tomato sauce, corn, pole beans, white acre peas, blackeyes, and limas—but quite a bit sits on the shelves of the back pantry in those clear sturdy Mason jars: two kinds of cucumber pickles, squash pickles, okra pickles, pickled banana peppers, pickled jalapenos, tomatoes, salsa, ketchup, tomato jam, strawberry jam, pepper jelly, pear preserves, muscadine juice, and muscadine jelly.

              The first time I ever canned I was scared to death.  First, the pressure canner scared me.  I had heard too many stories of blown up pots and collard greens hanging from the ceiling like the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, but once I had used it a few times without incident, and really understood how it worked, that fear left me. 

              Home canners are actually not just decades old, but centuries.  French physicist Denis Papin invented a "steam digester"—the first pressure cooker.  Born on August 22, 1647, he also suggested the piston and cylinder steam engine, which was invented later by someone else, but his designs were the impetus.  Papin's Digester, as his pressure cooker was called, raised the cooking temperature inside to 266 degrees, which cooked foods quicker without losing their nutrients.

               I may be an old hand at the pressure canner these days, but I still follow the rules.  If I don't, it will blow up.  No amount of sincerity on my part will keep that from happening if I let the pressure get too high. 

              I also follow the sterilization rules and the rules about how much pressure for how long and how much acidity is required for steam canning.  Botulism, a food poisoning caused by foods that have been improperly canned, is a particularly dangerous disease.  Symptoms include severe abdominal pain, vomiting, blurred vision, muscle weakness and eventual paralysis.  You’d better believe I carefully follow all the rules for home canning.  I give away a lot of my pickles and jams.  Not only do I not want botulism, I certainly don’t want to give it to anyone else either.

              Some folks chafe at rules.  Maybe that’s why they don’t follow God’s rules.  They want to take the Bible and pick and choose what suits them.  “Authority?” they scoff.  “Overrated and totally unnecessary.”  Authority does matter and a lot of people in the Bible found out the hard way.  Whatever you do in word or in deed, do all in the name of {by the authority of} the Lord Jesus…Col 3:17.  You might pay special attention to the context of that verse too.

              God’s people were warned over and over to follow His rules, to, in fact, be careful to follow His rules, Deut 5:1.  I counted 31 times in the Pentateuch alone.  Not following those rules resulted in death for many and captivity for others.  When Ezra and Nehemiah brought the remnant back to Jerusalem, once again they were warned, at least five times in those two short books.  Maybe suffering the consequences of doing otherwise made the need for so much repetition a little less.

              David had a way of looking at God’s rules that we need to consider.  For I have kept the ways of the Lord, and have not wickedly departed from my God.  For all his rules were before me, and from his statutes I did not turn aside, 2 Sam 22:22,23. Many of David’s psalms talk about God’s rules, but the 119th mentions them 17 times.  David calls those rules good, helpful, comforting, righteous, praiseworthy, enduring, hope-inducing, true, and life-giving.  How can anyone chafe at something so wonderful?

              People simply don’t want rules, especially with God.  God is supposed to be loving and kind and accept me as I am.  No.  God knows that the way we are will only bring death.  We must follow the rules in order to live.  We must love the rules every bit as much as David did.  I will praise you with an upright heart when I learn your righteous rules…My soul is consumed with longing for your rules at all times…When I think of your rules from of old, I take comfort, O Lord…Great is your mercy O Lord, give me life according to your rules, 119:7, 20, 52, 156.

              I get out my canning guide and faithfully follow the rules every summer.  I never just guess at it; I never say, “That’s close enough.”  I know if I don’t follow those rules someone could die, maybe me or one of my good friends or one of my precious children or grandchildren.  I bet there is something in your life with rules just as important that you follow faithfully.  Why then, are we so careless with the most important rules we have ever been given?
 
For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome, 1 John 5:3.
 
Dene Ward

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