I watch more Food Network shows than any others. I have one favorite I try to never miss, and a couple of others that I will watch if I have the time. Even reruns are good on the Food Channel.  
             
Funny thing, though, I have only tried about half a dozen recipes from any of the shows I have watched. That’s not per show; that’s half a dozen total. 
The thing I get most from these shows is technique—learning that it takes
more salt in your pasta water than you might think to really season it; that you
should season every layer of a dish not just the final product so that the dish
tastes seasoned not just salty; that meat continues to cook after you take it
out of the oven so you must take it out before it’s totally done or you end up
with tough, dry meat; that in 90% of cases fresh herbs are far better than
dried; and that real parmagiana reggiano is worth the money—not only does it
taste that much better, but you actually use less for the same effect..  I didn’t realize I was picking these things up until last Thanksgiving when I was told by three separate family members that it was the best turkey and dressing I had ever made.
             
I started thinking about that, and realized that is the way Satan gets to most of us, too.  We don’t go out and do all the big, bad sins in the world, following his personal recipes for evil.  But if we are not careful, the worldly techniques find their way into our lives. Our perspectives change from the spiritual to the physical. We become more concerned about physical security than spiritual security, more prone to rely on our own acumen than God’s promises, more willing to accept sin in others in order to get along.  
              
I can remember preachers making jokes about the King James wording of 1
Peter 2:9:  Ye are…a peculiar people.  We think peer pressure is only a problem for teenagers, but none of us wants to be called “peculiar.”  Four hundred years ago, when the KJV was translated, that word meant “private property.”  You see, we are supposed to be God’s private property, not Satan’s.  We should be learning God’s techniques, not the Devil’s. And I guess in the way the word is used today, that would make us appear a little peculiar.
             
In just two or three hours a week, the Food Channel has changed my cooking.  Just think what might be happening to us in the many hours a week we are surrounded by unspiritual people concerned about unspiritual things. Being aware will help us to keep the influence of their techniques minimal.  Better still, we should surround ourselves every chance we get with those who would help us learn better spiritual techniques.  Let’s all help one another get to Heaven.
 
But you are an elect race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God’s own possession [peculiar], that you may show forth the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light; who in time past were no people, but now are the people of God; who had not obtained mercy, but now have obtained mercy.  1 Peter 2:9,10 
 
Dene Ward

            
I have always spent a lot of time planning my family’s meals.  In the first place, I had a limited budget.  In the second place, I had to use what we grew, and here in Florida that,  too, is somewhat limited.  The  climate may be warm, but for some things it is too warm, and too humid, and too  buggy. Root cellars, for example,  don’t work, not just because of the heat, but because the ground water lies only  three or four feet below the topsoil.
             
I did my best to provide nutritious meals with the resources I had and that often meant several hours a week combing through recipes and grocery ads, clipping  coupons and sorting them while not falling into the coupon traps, and keeping an eye on the pantry and freezer. After awhile you develop a working knowledge of which store has which brands and their everyday price. If I buy this piece of meat this week while it’s on sale, I can divide it and freeze half for another week.  At the same time I have something left from a few weeks ago that I bought extra then.  This recipe makes enough for two nights, and I can get away with very little meat in that one because of the [beans, cheese, etc] it also uses.  I should buy the milk at that store this week because it’s on sale there, while that brand is not available at the other store and I also have a coupon that makes it a dollar cheaper. Some days I feel like I have put in a full day’s work when I pack the  coupon box, throw away the clippings, and stow my precious list in my bag.  I don’t know what the boys would say about the meals they grew up on, but they turned out healthy so I must have done all right.  
              
We did have dessert often, but we didn’t have ooey-gooey Mississippi Mud
Cake every night, nor Elvis’s [hyper-fat artery-clogging] brownies, nor any of
the other super-rich desserts. Those were for special occasions. More often it was a blueberry pie, or an apple pie, a homemade chocolate pudding (made with skim milk), or a dish of on sale ice cream. Even dessert was a tempered affair.
             
We didn’t eat much in the way of junk food and hardly any processed food
at all.  I bake from scratch.  I cook with fresh food or food I put up from my own garden, blueberry patch, grape arbor, apple trees, or wild blackberry thickets.  Even those canned soup casseroles were few and far between. (But they did come in handy and were not banned completely.)  I was careful what I fed my family.
             
I am a little worried about some younger Christians these days, who seem
to feed their souls on things besides the Word of God. The same women who almost arrogantly boast that their families never  touch anything with high fructose corn syrup or hydrogenated vegetable oil in  it, will swallow whole a book of spiritual marshmallow fluff.  Sometimes “inspirational” writings are nothing more than junk food, processed with so much spiritual salt and sugar in them that we develop a taste for them and use them not with the Bible, but instead of the Bible.  I know that’s the case when the Bible way of doing things is considered “too harsh.”  When something sounds saccharin sweet, it’s easy to indulge.  When it’s warm and fuzzy, you want to cuddle right up, not realizing it’s a wolf about to make you his dinner.
             
What does God say about all this?  The wisdom of the world cannot “know God” (1 Cor 1:21; 2:6-10).  The wisdom of the world will “take you captive” (Col 2:8).  The wise men of the world have “their foolish hearts darkened” (Rom 1:21,22).  Even what I am writing can do these things if I am not telling you what  the Bible says accurately.  It’s  your business not to gobble something up just because it tastes good--even my “something.”
             
Some of the stuff out there is good and wholesome and may well help you
live your life.  But a lot of it is junk food.  It will not only cause you spiritual health problems, it will fill you up so that you cannot take in the real nutrition you need.  Stop and read the ingredient label before you buy it—develop critical thinking skills instead of just blindly slurping up the syrup.  Don’t fall head over heels for the writings of men who are handsome and have a way with words, or women who make you laugh or bring a tear to your eye, especially if they are not even following  the Lord accurately in their own lives.
             
Watch your spiritual diet and avoid the junk.
 
Let no one deceive himself. If anyone among you thinks that he is wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise. For the wisdom of this world is folly with God. For it is written, "He catches the wise in their craftiness," 1 Corinthians 3:18-19.
 
For the Elvis Brownies recipe, go to “Dene’s Recipe” page. 
  
Dene  Ward

I bought groceries the other day, and as I wandered down the produce aisle, I went past a cart in which the worker had stacked a pile of lettuce heads that were obviously past their prime, rusting and wilted.  Meanwhile, the line in front of the bagged salads stretched halfway across the produce section.  I was headed that way myself—only because they are on sale and I have a coupon, I salved my frugal conscience, certainly not because they are easier.

As I waited my turn, I eased my way past containers of pre-chopped peppers, onions, celery, and garlic.  I had seen tubs of already mashed potatoes earlier, and when I scoured the freezer section for shrimp to cook in my bouillabaisse, I had to dig to find some that were not peeled, deveined, and pre-cooked.  Everyone wants the easy way these days.  Even the last few years I taught piano, it was not unusual for a parent to ask.  “How long will it take for my child to learn how to do this?”  After 45 years I was still learning!  No wonder you hear so much about easy-lose diets, an easy way to a toned body, and easy-read Bibles. 

When I was a child, older folks often said, “It’s only worth the effort it cost you.”  God never says being His child will be easy.  Even when Jesus says, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light,” He is talking in relative terms—it is still a yoke and a burden.  But, unlike sin’s, His yoke and burden do not come with the built-in weight of guilt, an overriding, insurmountable millstone that will crush your spirit long before it destroys your soul for an eternity.  Paul says we will be a servant to something, either to sin unto death or obedience unto righteousness…But now being made free from sin and become servants to God, you have your fruit unto sanctification, and the end eternal life., Rom 6:16, 22.  Unlike the fatal weight of sin, this yoke and burden we can “live” with!

The next time I want a salad, I will try to think about that, and buy the whole head, then relax and enjoy the chopping.

Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity and cleanse me thoroughly from my sin…Purge me with hyssop and I shall be clean; wash me and I shall be whiter than snow.  Make me to hear joy and gladness...Restore unto me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with your free spirit…Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, Oh Jehovah, the God of my salvation, and my tongue shall sing aloud of your righteousness.  Selected lines from the 51st Psalm.

Dene Ward

One of my favorite ways to cook vegetables, especially fresh summer vegetables, is to roast them.  Cut in similar sized chunks squash, zucchini, sweet peppers, onions, eggplant, and anything else that suits you, carrots, fennel, and leeks maybe, sprinkle with salt and pepper, drizzle with olive oil and roast on a baking sheet at 425 degrees for 30-45 minutes, depending upon your oven and the size chunks you cut.  About halfway through, throw in sprigs of fresh marjoram, oregano, rosemary, and thyme, and some minced garlic.  Stir every 15 minutes.  Yummy!

Without water to dilute the flavor, and with high direct heat to caramelize the outsides, the natural flavor of each vegetable concentrates and sweetens.  Dieticians can probably tell you the scientific processes that cause the sugars to creep to the surface and brown, but I don’t need a dietician to tell me this is the best way to eat fresh vegetables.  And every summer when the garden is producing more than we can possibly keep up with, it is also the healthiest.

A few years ago, a good brother teaching 1 Peter 1: 6,7, if need be you have been put to grief by many trials, that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold that perishes, though it is proved by fire…, said that when Christians are tried by fire they are “purifried.”  I think that was a slip of the tongue, but his accidentally coined word has stuck with me ever since. 

I used to pray for God to keep my children from trials in their lives, but I got to thinking one day about some of the things we have been through.  I bet you have a similar list, things so traumatic at the time you can even put a date on them—September 2, 1988, March 16, 1996, February 22, 2002, February 8, 2005.  And that doesn’t count the lesser ones—November 1981, June 1984, and so on.  Do you know what?  We made it through all of them, and we are not the same people today that we would have been if we had never experienced them.

So, to our three precious children, I no longer pray that God will spare you from trials.  But I do pray that your faith will be strengthened to see them through, that you will grow as servants of the Lord, and that your wisdom will increase with each experience.  As your Mom, I can’t help but add, though, “Please, Lord, don’t make them too hard.” 

This is the only way to account for passages such as James wrote in 1:2-4, Count it all joy, my brothers, when you fall into many trials; knowing that the proving of your faith works patience, and let patience have its perfect work that you may be perfect and entire, lacking in nothing.  Those people understood the value of pain.  We all want to lose weight without dieting, slim down and tone up without exercising, grow knowledgeable with studying, but it just won’t happen.  Nor will growth in faith occur without experiencing some difficulties in life. 

How many clichés do we have about this?  “No pain, no gain.” “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.”  They are clichés for a reason:  they are true.  All I have to do is look at my garden and my flower beds.  All those carefully tended, watered, and fed plants will die when the drought comes.  Those tough old weeds will grow regardless. 

As to my roasted vegetables, cooking them under high heat sweetens them.  I need to pray that the roasting I undergo will “purifry” me as well.

Wherein you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been put to grief in manifold trials; that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold that perishes, though it is proved by fire, may be found unto praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ; whom not having seen you love, on whom though now you see him not, yet believing, you rejoice greatly with joy unspeakable and full of glory; receiving the end of your faith, even the salvation of your souls. 1 Pet 1:6-9

Dene Ward

Tarragon is a difficult herb.  It’s even hard to find at the local garden shops.  You have to go to the independent, specialty shops where everything costs twice as much.  Then when you get it, it’s hard to grow.  Not only is the flavor delicate, so is the plant.  I have killed more than my share of these fragile babies. 

But speaking of delicate flavor, it is almost paradoxical that something so delicate is also so distinctive.  Like cilantro, you know when a dish has even a hint of tarragon in it, but at the same time it won’t take over.  Tarragon in a chicken salad makes it a main event, and I have a pork chop recipe with tarragon cream sauce that turns that mundane diner staple into fine dining.

As I said, I usually wind up killing whatever tarragon plants I manage to find.  I always thought it was the heat, but maybe it’s me.  Somehow, last year’s plant survived until frost.  Then I got another wonderful surprise.  This spring it came back from the root.  I didn’t believe it at first.  It looked like tarragon, and it was in the same spot as the plant last summer, but I still didn’t believe it—not until I pinched off a leaf and smelled it.  Yesssss!  This year I don’t have to comb the garden shops looking for another one to kill.  It’s right there in my herb bed, waiting for its execution day.

Speaking of these sorts of things, I find it bewildering that people get themselves so wrought up over whether or not the Lord’s church existed somewhere in hiding in the Middle Ages.  Maybe it did; maybe it didn’t.  Maybe there actually was a spell when no one alive even bothered trying to follow the New Testament pattern.  Why should that affect my faith?  The seed is the Word of God, Luke 8:11.  We still have that seed.  We can still plant it and it will produce after its own kind, just as God ordained for every seed from the moment He created the first one. 

Sometimes we keep leftover seeds in the freezer.  If we had a bumper crop and I put up way too much corn, I may not plant any the next year, or even the next.  But when I get that seed out, as I did a few weeks ago, we can plant it again, and lo and behold there is now corn growing in the garden, a few silks already turning brown. It will happen every time we plant that seed, no matter how long it’s been since the last time we planted it.  The same will happen when we plant the Word of God, the seed that produces Christians.

And what’s more, we still have the Root, and that’s even better.  As long as the gospel exists and we can preach about that Root, the one who came to earth, lived as we do, died, and rose again, faith will spring up from that Root, and the Lord’s body will once again exist. 

Why is this so surprising?  Why indeed should it bother me one way or the other if I trust God?  He ordained this rule.  Who could ever undo it?  And Abraham believed God and it was reckoned unto him for righteousness. (Rom 4:3).  Do you believe Him?

And again Isaiah says, "The root of Jesse will come, even he who arises to rule the Gentiles; in him will the Gentiles hope." May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope. Romans 15:12-13

(For this recipe, go to "Dene's Recipes" page)

Dene Ward

I just pitted two pounds of fresh cherries.  I knew there was a reason I liked blueberries better.

Even with a handy-dandy little cherry pitter, it is still quite a chore.  You have to do them one at a time, well over a hundred, and sometimes the pit does not come out the first try.  You have to fiddle with the cherry until you get it in there just right—so the little plunger will go right through the center.  Then there is the clean-up as some of those wayward pits bounce across the counter and floor, staining everything cherry red.

Not worth it you say?  You have obviously never had a cherry pie made with anything but canned cherry pie filling!  Some things are worth the trouble.  Like children.  Like marriage.  Like living according to God’s rules.

Satan will do everything in his power to make it seem otherwise.  He will tell you his reward here and now is greater, like a ready-made store-bought pie.  He will tell you that God’s reward is mediocre, like a pie you can have in the oven in 10 minutes with canned filling and refrigerated pie crust.  He will tell you God’s reward does not even exist, that there is no such thing as a pie with a homemade crust and fresh cherries—it’s all an illusion.  Everyone knows pies come in a box in the freezer case!

But God’s reward is real; it is better than anything this life and that Enemy have to offer.  It takes some effort.  Sometimes we fail and have to try again.  Sometimes people make fun of us.  Sometimes we work till our backs ache and our fingers cramp up, but when you put God’s reward on the window sill to cool, everyone knows it was worth it.  Even the ones who won’t get to taste it. 

Blessed are you when men shall hate you, and when they shall separate you from their company, and reproach you, and cast out your name as evil, for the Son of man’s sake.  Rejoice in that day, and leap for joy, for behold, great is your reward in Heaven. 

So that men shall say, “Truly there is a reward for the righteous; truly there is a God who judges the earth.” Luke 6:22,23; Psa 58:11

(For this recipe, go to "Dene's Recipes" page)

Dene Ward

Some things are just not supposed to happen.  Sooner or later you will have a flat tire.  Sooner or later your AC will quit on you.  Sooner or later the washer will stop washing and the dryer will stop drying.  None of these things are pleasant, but they all happen to everyone.  When it happens, you groan and then get on with the business of life.  But some things are just not supposed to happen.

I was putting some things in the refrigerator the other day.  Usually the door swings shut by itself, but this time, as I twisted to get the next item, it swung all the way open.  Then it quietly fell off its hinges and tumbled shelf side down, dumping pickles, olives, ketchup, three kinds of mustard, Worcestershire and soy sauces, homemade jelly, butter, cream cheese, and my super special ordered-from-California eye medicine onto the floor, leaving the rest of the refrigerator wide open and humming.  For a moment I just stood there, stunned.  We have been through several refrigerators—a couple of cheap ones that came with the apartment or trailer we were renting at the time, and a couple of secondhand ones.  But this one was a recommended model we bought new.  Never have we had a refrigerator door fall off, not even the inexpensive or used ones.  Refrigerator doors do not fall off. 

Don’t you know that is how God feels at times?  We can find several passages where he laments our actions, saying, “This is not supposed to happen,” at least in substance, if not verbatim.  James 3:10 is a prime example:  Out of the same mouth comes forth blessing and cursing.  My brothers, these things ought not so to be.  James tells us we should not bless God and then curse man because when we curse a man made in the image of God, we might as well be cursing God.  Yikes!  That puts another spin on it, doesn’t it?  Understand, we are not talking about using four letter words here, but about maliciously wishing evil upon a person.  We are not supposed to do it--not even to other drivers!  And James acts like we ought to know this without being told:  we should not be cursing men! 

Unfortunately, we do not know, or willfully ignore, many such things.  We should know God is our Creator and worship him, but for some reason that is hotly debated even among intelligent people.  We should know God’s law; he has made it available and easy enough to understand.  But even in the church we have “seasoned” Christians who cannot find their way from Acts to Habakkuk without getting lost somewhere in Ephesians, and who think John wrote several “Revelations.”

I wonder if God does what I did the other morning, stand there in shock, staring at a door-less refrigerator, with my mouth hanging open, thinking, “What?  That just doesn’t happen.”  Unfortunately, it does.  You wonder if God is really all that surprised any more.  Tell you what, let’s work on a real surprise for him—let’s make sure we don’t do any of those things from now on.

The ox knows his owner, and the ass his master’s crib; but Israel does not know, my people do not consider, Isa 1:3.

Yes, the stork in the heavens knows her appointed times; and the turtledove 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

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 minuscule 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

I put the cup of coffee down in front of Keith and he looked at it disdainfully.  “What are you?  A waitress?” 

You see, I hadn’t filled it to the brim.  Since, just like a waitress, I had to carry it from the kitchen to the table, to have done so seemed impractical to me.  Despite another snide comment about “a half-full cup of coffee,” it was plenty full for carrying, about a half inch from the top.

Everyone knows what happens when you fill something to the brim and then try to carry it—it sloshes out all over the place.  In fact, whenever Keith fills his own cup, I wind up wiping coffee rings off the table and counter, and splashes in the floor because he fills it to the top.  Filled to the brim is fine when you don’t plan on carrying it anywhere—for most things, anyway.

…And they chose Stephen, a man full of faith…, Acts 6:5.

Stephen is the perfect example of a man filled to the brim with faith.  It sloshed out all over everyone who came near him.  How can you tell?  Just look at Acts 6 and 7.

Because of being full of faith, he was also “full of the Spirit and wisdom,” 6:3.  Notice:  this was before the apostles laid hands on him, 6:6, so we don’t have that excuse for a lack of wisdom and spirituality.  We can have those things too if we are filled to the brim with faith.

Because Stephen was full of faith, no one could “withstand him” when he spoke, 6:10.  And how did he speak?  He knew the scriptures.  From start to finish, he told his listeners the history of Israel, 7:1-50.  Could we come even close?

He was unafraid of confrontation, 7:51-53.  He never ran from opposition, even when it became clear he was in physical danger.  Discretion, according to Stephen, was cowardice, not valor.  We are often full of excuses for not speaking, instead of enough faith to speak out.

Stephen was completely confident of his salvation, 7:59.  He knew the Lord was waiting to receive him.  He didn’t flinch from saying so, and certainly never hemmed and hawed around about “maybe going to Heaven if he was good.”  He kept himself so that there was never any question, and his faith was probably no more evident than in that one statement, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.”  Can we make the same statement?

His faith also showed by his forgiving others.  Just like the Lord he followed to death as the first Christian martyr, he asked Jesus to “lay not this sin to their charge,” 7:60.  The disciples recognized their own need and begged for more faith when Jesus told them they had to forgive over and over and over, (Luke 17:3-5).  Here is the proof they were correct—a man “full of faith” forgave his own murderers.  Can we even forgive the driver in the next lane?

What are you spilling on people?  What completely fills your heart and mind every day?  Is it politics?  Is it the latest Hollywood gossip?  Is it the stock market?  Is it complaints about anything and everything?  Is it the weaknesses of your brethren, and any slight, imagined or real, they might have done to you? 

Whatever we are full of will slosh out all over everyone who comes near us.  If we are full of faith, our lives will show it.  Don’t be a waitress when you fill your cup.

Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope, in the power of the Holy Spirit. And I myself also am persuaded of you, my brethren, that you yourselves are full of goodness, filled with all knowledge, able also to admonish one another. Romans 15:13-14

Dene Ward

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 multifaceted, 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