It begins in September. 
            We keep watching the weather for hurricanes, but we also watch it for that first cold front.  If it comes too early, it will only be a day or two before the 90s in both temperature and humidity reappear, but at least we get a taste of the fall to come.  Here in Florida it is a big deal when the smothering blanket of heat finally lifts after five full months of sweltering, wondering if your makeup will melt before you get into the air conditioned building, trying to find a parking place in the shade so you can bear to sit on the seat and hold the steering wheel when you return, planning your shower around the last time during the day you think you will wind up looking like a dog caught in the rain.  Either that or take two or three showers a day.
            Then we anxiously keep an eye out in October.  Every single day, sometimes two or three times a day, we look at the forecast.  It's been known to change from hour to hour in these parts, we say, excusing our obsessive clicking on the NOAA forecast. 
            We begin looking at our sweaters, planning which to wear next Tuesday, assuming that front comes before then.  We paw through the pantry stacking up the tea bags, international coffees, and hot chocolate packets leftover from last year when, in our overconfident glee, we bought way too much.  We split some fat lighter for fire starters and set them beside the fire pit along with a fresh stack of firewood.  We split another bucketful to sit next to the back door for the wood stove inside.  We comb the grocery ads, looking for specials on chili beans and saltines, stew beef and vegetables, and that head of cabbage that we learned long ago was absolutely necessary for an excellent pot of minestrone.
            Yes, we get anxious down in these parts.  Maybe they do in other places too, but the Deep South has little enough cold, and Florida even less.  So we cherish it when it does come, and sigh when the winter is far too warm or leaves too quickly.  Yet even then, that first cold front is received with gratefulness and a huge sigh of relief.  The long hot summer is finally over.
            And that got me to thinking.  Is that the way we wait for the Lord?  We may not have a forecast to watch, not even a Farmer's Almanac.  But are we as anxious for this long hot trial we call life to be over as we are for the summer to disappear?  Do we watch for the Lord's return with impatience, even praying as John did, "Lord, come quickly?" (Rev 22:20)
            If you have been observant at all about this world, you can see where things are going.  It's about to become a harsh place for Christians.  We may soon, even in this country, be persecuted for our beliefs to the point of losing our possessions, our jobs, even our freedom.  I worry what my children, and especially my grandchildren will have to deal with.  Right now, the only relief I can see is the Lord coming to put an end to it all.
           If you are young, I know that you want to experience all the things we older folks have—a wedding day, a career, carrying a child and raising it, even seeing your grandchildren.  And perhaps we older folks have failed in teaching you to long for his return as we do.  After all, we wanted to live longer at your age too.  We wanted to do all those things our parents had done—and do it better, we were sure. 
          So please, as you age, try to teach your children what we may have failed to teach you.  Even if the world does not go in the direction I suspect it will, even if it becomes a wonderful place to live after all, it still cannot match the world to come, the one we should be hoping for and praying for every single day.
 
For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, if indeed by putting it on we may not be found naked. For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee. (2Cor 5:1-5)
 
Dene Ward

There has always been an "In Crowd".  I'm not sure exactly how it starts but by middle school—junior high in my day—it's in full bloom.  It doesn't stop there.  It continues into adulthood—in colleges, in neighborhoods, in work forces, anywhere people congregate.  Adults, mind you, who are still judging people by the same immature standards they did as children.  If you are different in any way from their "ideal," if you act differently—too quiet or too obvious—if you dress differently, if you are too intelligent or not intelligent enough, if you speak differently, and especially if you look different, if you have a health problem and especially if that problem makes your behavior, speech, or appearance different from others, you are not and never will be part of the In Crowd.  It's just another form of bigotry.
            And here is the saddest truth of all:  it even exists among the Lord's people.  When people began to follow Jesus in earnest, the scribes and Pharisees—the In Crowd of the day—said, "This multitude that does not know the law [like we do] is accursed" John 7:49.  It really had nothing to do with the Law, but everything to do with their view of the Law (traditions) and the power they wanted to wield as the elite.  They had nothing but contempt for the people they were supposed to be leading.
            In their day it was a matter of status and power and wealth.  When Jesus' preaching ripped them to shreds and left the common people feeling the hope and joy of acceptance by God, he was signing his own death warrant.  When he ate with publicans, spoke to and accepted financing from women, taught Samaritans, healed lepers, the epileptic, and the demon-possessed, and forgave the vilest of sinners, he was announcing that he had no use for the superficiality of those who considered themselves God's gift to—well, God Himself.
            And it happens in the church too.  I've seen doctrinal matters decided not by scripture, but by who knows what Big Name Preacher, on which wealthier family believes what, or on who liked whose personality better—in short, on who was in the In Crowd.
            And just like in the world, it starts with the children.  If there was ever a group that should not have its share of "mean girls" (or boys), it's the disciples of a Lord who went out of his way to accept the ones who were outside looking in.  There's no excuse for us allowing our children to grow up thinking they can shun or ridicule someone who isn't "cool" or "pretty" or "fun," or who doesn't wear the latest styles, or like the coolest teen idols, or any other such shallow reason.  They will not outgrow it.  They will just turn into the adult version, just as shallow and sometimes just as mean.  Those adults will avoid speaking to and even do their best to avoid running into the ones who are not on the right list.  And those poor folks will sit alone at services, stand alone afterward, and, as a result, feel alone in the midst of a laughing and chattering crowd.
            You may not know it is happening.  Could I suggest that it might be because you are already in the In Crowd, too happy to even notice the others?  If we are to nip this in the bud, do this today:  Ask your child, "Is there anyone in your Bible class that you never talk to?  Anyone you will not sit next to?  Anyone you and your friends talk about and even laugh about?"  Then make sure they are telling you the truth.  (Joanne Beckley recently wrote a powerful post on how to tell if your child is lying to you.)  If they have sat in Bible classes long enough, they will know the right answers whether they are doing the right things or not.  But this is important and you need to make it clear to them.  If they are old enough to be baptized believers, tell them that such behavior is not following the steps of the Lord they claimed.  It is bigotry every bit as much as racism.  And it is not acceptable; it is sin.
            Then look at yourself and see if you are the one who taught them such behavior.
            When we persist in these things, we may be the ones who, on that last day, find ourselves on the outside looking in.
 
I myself will feed my sheep and I myself will make them lie down, declares the sovereign LORD. I will seek the lost and bring back the strays; I will bandage the injured and strengthen the sick, but the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them – with judgment! (Ezek 34:15-16)

And he went throughout all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction among the people. So his fame spread throughout all Syria, and they brought him all the sick, those afflicted with various diseases and pains, those oppressed by demons, epileptics, and paralytics, and he healed them. And great crowds followed him from Galilee and the Decapolis, and from Jerusalem and Judea, and from beyond the Jordan. (Matt 4:23-25)
 
Dene Ward

Although I was not a particular fan of hers, I do remember when it happened.  Sometime around midnight, November 29, 1981, the actress Natalie Wood fell off a yacht and drowned.  She had had dinner with her husband Robert Wagner, and fellow-actor Christopher Walken earlier in the evening.  That meal involved drinking.  Back on the yacht the two men got into some sort of argument.  At a later time, Wagner admitted that he and Natalie had also gotten into an argument.  Around midnight, Wagner noticed she was missing and called for help.  She was found floating a mile from the boat off Santa Catalina Island, with a beached dinghy close by. A new investigation was opened in 2011, but nothing much came of it.  Her death is still a mystery.
            When you live in Florida, you hear of drownings quite often.  In fact, in places where there are none, you will see the sign above—No Lifeguard, Swim at Your Own Risk.  Usually, just beyond the sign, dozens of people splash around in the water, regularly going out to depths over their heads.  The risk to their lives bothers them not one wit.  The fun is worth it.
            Every summer my boys took the risk and I willingly allowed it.  We splashed in Blue Springs, Poe Springs, and Ginnie Springs.  We tubed down the Ichetucknee River from the spring head to just before the first bridge, pulling out and picnicking at the state park on tomato sandwiches and cold watermelon straight from the garden.  We even swam in the Santa Fe River and Oleno State Park while alligators sunned themselves on the opposite shore.  We weren’t the only ones who took the risks.  Everyone did, it seemed, because we were always standing in lines.
            For some reason, the risks involved in Christianity scare people much more.
            In life, it might mean sharing your life preserver with someone else, someone not as generous as you.  Turning the other cheek means you might very well be slapped again.  Going the second mile might mean being forced to go five or ten more.  Being willing to be defrauded to avoid casting aspersion on the body of Christ might mean losing money or worse, it seems, losing face.
            In our Bible study, it might mean swimming in the deep waters of profound thought, opening minds that are already made up, accepting nothing without personally verifying it, and challenging our thinking—perhaps even admitting we have been wrong about something and changing.  Scary indeed!
            In our conversion, it means having the faith to step out of the boat in the middle of a storm, and walk wherever the Lord leads us, with or without a beloved mate, a good friend, or various members of the family.
            Christians always put themselves at risk for their Lord’s sake.  It is not as if we were not warned.  He posts the sign Himself:  Swim at Your Own Risk.  But there is one difference—there is a Lifeguard when we take the plunge, one who has already given His life to save ours.  Why not enjoy the swim when we have that guarantee of safety?
 
And he said unto them, if any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whosoever would save his life shall lose it, but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake, the same shall save it, Luke 9:23,24.

Dene Ward

I recently ran a reminiscence of being so different in high school that a teacher gave me a special poster to celebrate it.  Somehow my parents taught me to be different and not care that I was different.  One reader made the comment on this blog's Facebook page, "We cannot teach our children to be different if we don't learn the lesson first," and now that I think of it, that may have been the key for me.  My parents thought nothing of being different.  If you were a disciple of Christ, that's how you lived.  And so I fell into it quite naturally.  Unfortunately many of my brethren must not have been taught that.
            The recent political campaigns have nearly made me ill.  Seeing Christians spew out unverified rumors, innuendoes, sarcasm, threats, blatant disrespect, and just plain nastiness, all in the name of standing for the truth, appalled me.  I wondered what our first century brethren might have thought about the whole thing.
              Did you know that first century Christians in a world even meaner than ours (though by less and less everyday), often gave themselves away because they did exactly what no one expected them to do?   They were kind to those they disagreed with, including idolaters.  They assisted and served those in need, even those who would later turn them in for being Christians—an illegal activity.  Scorn, ridicule and disdain were not a part of their vocabulary or lifestyle.  They were different because they followed a Savior who was different, one who "when he was reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered, threatened not, but committed himself to him who judges righteously," 1 Pet 2:23.  THAT is what it means to be different.
            If you have been struggling to conform yourself to that image, maybe it's time for a little more effort.  You may have finally learned to speak kindly, even to the unkind and unfair among us, when it is face to face.  But how are you doing when it is not a "person" but a car you are railing at?  How do you do when it's a faceless voice on the phone?  How does your pen react when some impersonal corporation has treated you unfairly?  How does your keyboard click when you are posting a diatribe against whatever political side you deem evil at the moment?  In all those cases, someone—an actual person--is noticing how you behave, even when you think your identity is hidden.  Think about it for a minute—Facebook posts your name and picture at the top of every one of those angry posts.
            We recently did some painting in the house.  I went to the paint department of the local home improvement store, picked out a color card and handed it to the man to mix my paint.  When the paint went up on the wall, I was sure it was darker than the card I had chosen.  But when I laid that card up against the wall, it completely disappeared—it was exactly the same color.  It blended right in.  Sometimes we are nothing more than a color card at the paint store.
            I am supposed to be different from the average Joe, even the relatively good citizen out there.  I am supposed to act (not react) as a follower of my Lord.  I am supposed to be willing to suffer wrong or even loss to show that difference. 
          If being a Christian does become illegal someday in this country, I should be giving myself away by my kind words, by my willingness to yield rather than argue, and by my acts of compassion even to those who do not deserve it. I am not supposed to be blending in with all the other pagans, disappearing like a color card from the paint store into a wall of humanity who are a perfect match.
 
Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul. Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation. (1Pet 2:11-12)
 
Dene Ward

Today's post if by guest writer Lucas Ward.
 
Lev. 23:2  “Speak to the people of Israel and say to them, These are the appointed feasts of the LORD that you shall proclaim as holy convocations; they are my appointed feasts."
            When I reached this passage in Leviticus, I realized that I didn't know what convocation meant.  I had always read past the passage, assuming it meant "worship service."  I decided to look it up to be sure.  It turns out that convocation means "the act of convoking" according to Webster's Dictionary.  Sighing, I then looked up convoke.  It doesn't mean worship service at all.  A convocation is when people come together, a time of coming together.  So in Leviticus 23, when Moses is giving God's instructions on all the feast days, he is emphasizing that these are times when the nation was to come together and worship God as one.  The Sabbath was a holy convocation for each community.  On the Passover they came together to remember being freed from slavery in Egypt.  On the feast of weeks they came together to offer the first fruits of their harvest to God.  On the Day of Atonement they came together to fast, instead of feast, as they remembered their sins against God.  On the Feast of Booths they came together to celebrate God's care for them.  Ever—single—time--God ordered a day of worship, He wanted His people to come together to worship as a group.
            This is a principle that clearly carries over to the New Testament.  The early church "attended the temple together" to hear the Apostles' teaching (Acts 2:42, 46).  They "gathered together to break bread" (Acts 20:7).  We are told to exhort one another (1 Thess. 5:11) and admonish one another (Rom. 15:14), which clearly implies being together enough to know what exhortation and/or admonishment is needed.   As Christians, we are called the family of God and the word "brethren" is used of Christians at least 135 times in the New Testament.   A family defined by how we love each other (John 13:35) will naturally be together as much as possible, especially when worshipping the Head of that family. 
            Simply put, we cannot be the church that God intended, nor worship in the way He demands, if we never come together.  Streaming services may be a wonderful way to help those who are legitimately homebound, but if we are able we need to be getting up and joining our brethren in "holy convocation" as we worship together.  After all, how can I stir my brethren up to love and good works (Heb. 10:24) if I never see them?  The early Christians came together to worship even though if caught the Romans would put them all to death.  Surely we can brave a pandemic with a 98% survival rate!  And if we do wind up being part of the unlucky 2%, aren't we really the more fortunate for the chance to go home early? 

Hebrews 10:24-25  "And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near."
 
Lucas Ward

In Thomas Wolfe's novel You Can't Go Home Again, George Webber concludes, "You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood, ... back home to a young man's dreams of glory and of fame ... back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time…"
            Whenever Keith talks about Arkansas, he says, “Back home.”  It used to bother me a little.  Home should be where I am, shouldn’t it?  Then I realized that I could never have the feelings of a place that he did.  I never lived in just one place as a child, and the place I lived longest is not the place I go to when I visit my parents.  They left that place a year after I married and have lived in nearly half a dozen places since. 
            It is ironic that one of my sons lives there now, the place I would have called home, but when I go visit him, it has been so long since it was home, and it has changed so much, that I never even think of it that way any more.  The longest I have ever lived in any one place is the place I live now, and as Keith and I head into our senior years, I can foresee a time, though I hope not too soon, when we will have to leave it.  Even as small a plot as five acres takes a lot of labor, and it is a long way from the folks we count on to care for us when we become too old and disabled to take care of it and ourselves.
            Christians should be careful about those feelings of “home.”  Home should never be about a place, but about people, and about Truth.  I have seen churches divide over doctrines, divisions that were necessary.  Yet people who should have known better stayed—they were converted to a place, a building, not to the Lord.
            And Christians in our society have another problem—one that the poverty stricken brethren in places like Nicaragua and Zimbabwe never have to deal with—we have become entirely too comfortable.  We are so “at home” in our rich lives that we don’t want to give them up.  Persecution, even simply the ridicule and criticism of others, is too much to bear.  There is always a good reason not to speak up when sin becomes accepted, and not to behave differently.   Even if there is no persecution, we have a problem singing, “This world is not my home, I’m just a passing through.”  This is home and we want to stay as long as possible.
            We must make ourselves see beyond the here and now.  We must force ourselves to realize that where and how we are living today is not our goal.  Eternity is difficult enough to comprehend without focusing on what is right in front of us as if it were the only thing that counted.  Here is the truth of the matter:  compared to Eternity our lives are not even a drop of water in the entire ocean. 
            Christians have the promise that one day we will never again be homesick.  Heaven is the home we have all been looking for, the place we will live forever.  We will never have to leave.  We will never sit pining and wishing for the good old days.  The “dreams of glory” Thomas Wolfe spoke of will be there and then.  But perhaps in Eternity “then” will no longer have a meaning.  It will be Now—a capital letter Now that never ends.
 
Being therefore always of good courage, and knowing that, while we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord; we are of good courage, I say, and are willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be at home with the Lord, 2 Cor 5:6,8.
 
Dene Ward
 

"But I've been baptized and that's all that really matters."
            We wish we had a dollar for every time we have heard that statement.  Do you know when it comes up?  When you go to visit a fallen member, hoping to bring him back to the Lord.  "Yes, I know I don't (attend services like I should, study like I should, pray as I ought) and I know I (drink a little, need to watch my language, and hang out too often with people who are not righteous while avoiding Christians as much as possible) but I've been baptized so I'm okay!"
            Do you know why that happens?  Because we neglect to teach that baptism should be the start of a lifelong commitment to the Lord.  Instead we dunk people like Oreos in a glass of milk and they think "Now my sins are gone and I'm all right."  It's our own version of "once-saved-always-saved."
            Parents may be the worst.  They push baptism to the point that their child has nightmares and begs to be baptized, even if they are just 8 years old and wouldn't know what lifetime commitment truly meant if it bit them.  No!  You teach them to commit.  Then when that happens, you tell them, "This is how you show that commitment, by obeying God in this command," which also happens to be how you wash those sins away.  It takes both.
            Or are ye ignorant that all we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him through baptism into death: that like as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, so we also might walk in newness of life… For the death that he died, he died unto sin once: but the life that he lives, he lives unto God. Even so reckon you also yourselves to be dead unto sin, but alive unto God in Christ Jesus. " (Rom 6:10-11).
         Baptism is not a magic bullet.  If you don't live like you have been baptized, showing that commitment every day of your life, it doesn't do you one bit of good.
 
Know ye not, that to whom ye present yourselves as servants unto obedience, his servants ye are whom ye obey; whether of sin unto death, or of obedience unto righteousness? But thanks be to God, that, whereas ye were servants of sin, ye became obedient from the heart to that form of teaching whereunto ye were delivered; and being made free from sin, ye became servants of righteousness (Rom 6:16-18).
 
Dene Ward

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it. (Matt 13:45-46)
            Over forty years ago we were given the granddaddy of all winter squashes.  It sat nearly two feet high on its belled bottom, but would have been much higher if the neck had been straight.  Instead the neck bent over and made a nifty handle to carry it by, which helped a lot since it must have weighed about twenty pounds.
            We really enjoyed that squash.  It was the sweetest winter squash we ever ate, and as long as you were eating on the neck, you could cut off what you needed and just cover the end with plastic wrap until the next time.  Only when you reached the bell did you need to go ahead and scrape out the seeds and cook it all.
            So last year we decided to look for seeds for that squash.  We are now living over a thousand miles south of where we lived back then, and we could not even remember the name of the person who gave it to us.  We sent letters up to old friends and they had never seen or heard of anything matching its description.  Turns out the name we thought we remembered was not really a name, either.  "King" squash was evidently someone's description of this behemoth which they considered the "king" of all squashes.
            So we gave up on the name and started reading descriptions in seed catalogues.  Most had nothing even close.  The same old butternut, acorn, and spaghetti squashes filled the catalogue pages.  Finally we found a catalogue that specialized in heirloom varieties.  They had something called a Cushaw that was long and weighed about the right amount.  The neck was straight and just as thick as the body, so that wasn't quite right, but it was the closest thing we could find.  So we ordered some seeds.  The color wasn't right when the vine finally bore fruit.  But we didn't give up on it until we had cooked it and eaten it.  This was not the "king" squash we had enjoyed so many years ago.
            So we tried again.  This time we scoured the internet.  A friend became interested and decided to help and he is the one who finally found it.  He didn't find it by the name "squash."  He found it by the name "pumpkin."  And we came to learn that there isn't one name for this vegetable, just several descriptions.  It's a "neck pumpkin" because of the long, curved neck, or it's a Pennsylvania Dutch crookneck squash, once again because of the curved neck, but also because of its origins.  I use it like squash and I use it like pumpkin, and it fits nearly any recipe for those things as long as you follow the cooking instructions.        
          Seems to me that the same things can be true of the New Testament church.  I know people who have found it, not by the sign by the highway, but by matching what it does with what the church in the Bible did.  Not by matching a creed, or a preacher, or even a "name," but by whether or not it followed God's law.  Just cut it open, take a taste and see.  If you go out looking for a name on a sign, you can still find the wrong thing.  If you look only at the outside, you can miss it altogether.  It's the inner workings, the body of Christ following its head, the bride of Christ in subjection to the bridegroom, the vine bearing the fruit of the Spirit, the building built on the proper cornerstone and foundation.
            It can be done.  I know people who have.  It's up to us to be that body, to match the description and taste like the real thing so that anyone who does come looking can find us.
 
But if all prophesy, and an unbeliever or outsider enters, he is convicted by all, he is called to account by all, the secrets of his heart are disclosed, and so, falling on his face, he will worship God and declare that God is really among you. (1Cor 14:24-25)
 
Dene Ward

I grew up in Tampa.  I learned to drive down Busch Blvd when there were actually empty, weedy lots between Temple Terrace and Florida Avenue.  I drove on I-75 with a learner’s permit, what is now I-275, and even into downtown Tampa where my eye doctor had his office in a 20 story “skyscraper”—by Florida standards anyway.  I drove down 75 past Howard and Armenia to shop at the only mall in town, Westshore Plaza, in an era when sometimes you wouldn’t see more than 3 other cars on your side of the interstate.  Yes, it was a long, long time ago.
            I took Driver’s Ed at King High School.  They had a little driving course in the back of the school.  A two lane “street” painted on a parking lot with stop signs, yield signs, diagonal parking, and pylons for practicing parallel parking.  I could drive that course without a hitch and usually even managed to parallel park without crushing a pylon.
            But we never practiced U-turns.  So one day after I had passed my exam and had my own brand new driver’s license complete with the requisite peon-home-from-working-the-field picture, I was headed west on Busch Blvd and realized I had passed my turn-off.  Time for my first U-turn.  I pulled into the left lane and patiently waited for the traffic on the other side to clear.  It may have been years ago, but traffic was not kind that day.  Those cars were spaced just so that I had to wait far longer than if it were a normal left turn.  I knew I needed time to straighten out the car and get back up to 45 mph before any oncoming traffic reached me.
            Finally there was a break, just barely big enough for me to maneuver, if I hurried.  So I spun that wheel hard to the left and pulled out and hit the gas.  My little Mustang made it to the far right lane before completely turning, but almost immediately I was in trouble.  I had kept the wheel turned too long.  The tires screeched as I crossed back over all three lanes and was headed for the median.  Even though I needed to let go of the steering wheel I couldn’t.  I had thrown myself nearly into the passenger seat and was hanging on for dear life.  Thoroughly panicked, I finally let loose enough for the wheel to slide between my hands and allow the car to straighten.  I took my foot off the gas and shifted back into the seat just in time to miss the median and straighten myself out in the left lane.  No one and nothing was hurt but my pride.  I slunk in the seat as the oncoming traffic caught up and passed me, hoping no one I knew had seen that.
            That’s what a lack of experience will do for you.  I was old enough to drive.  But I had never performed that maneuver before, and had probably never paid enough attention to my parents as they did.  “It’s just a longer left turn,” I thought.  No, it’s a bit more than that.
            U-turns in life can be difficult too.  I have seen so many young people completely disillusioned because they thought making those U-turns after their baptism would be a cinch.  Now that I’ve turned my life over to God I won’t feel those temptations any more, they think.  I will suddenly be a changed person, able to live perfectly from here on in.  Once again a lack of experience is showing.
            We can be forgiven from our sins, but very often the consequences are still there to live with.  That can mean things as difficult as serving jail time or fighting addiction or dealing with people we have hurt physically or emotionally.  It can also mean the urges of a besetting sin.  You will still have to work on it.  You may need to change not just your life, but your schedule and your friends in order to see a difference.  The same things that tempted you before will continue to tempt you, and the Devil will try even harder because he thinks he might have lost you.  Why work on the ones who are securely under his belt?
            Tell your children these things.  Tell that neighbor you are trying to convert.  If they are not prepared for reality, they may lose hope.  But also tell them that now they will have help, help that can strengthen them enough to overcome anything—not necessarily easily, but certainly.  Help that understands what you are going through and will bear with you as you learn and grow with experience.  You may throw yourself across the highway the first time or two, but eventually you will learn to navigate the roads of life, and those U-turns will become easier to make. 
            And, if you have been “raised in the church,” you may find that the U-turns you need to make are of a completely different sort.  It is all too easy when you have never been involved in what we call “the big bad sins” to look down one’s nose on those who came from that background and judge them unworthy because they still struggle.  That is the U-turn you must make:  away from a judgmental attitude toward compassion, the same compassion Jesus showed for an adulterous woman, a thieving publican, and a convicted criminal.  Your U-turn may be the most difficult of all, but he still expects you to make it.
 
But [I] declared first to those in Damascus, then in Jerusalem and throughout all the region of Judea, and also to the Gentiles, that they should repent and turn to God, performing deeds in keeping with their repentance. Acts 26:20

Dene Ward

I started teaching women’s classes far too long ago.  I was too young to have any idea either what I was doing or even what I was supposed to be doing.  But at the first place Keith preached—it was a part-time position under the oversight of elders—one of those elders asked me to teach the teenage girls.  I was only 20, but he said no one else would do it.  Then at the next congregation the ladies elected me the first night I attended the class that was already in existence.  Even though there were women forty years older than I, they thought that being “the preacher’s wife” made me automatically qualified.  I, who should have been sitting at the feet of older women, was frantically learning as I went.  I cringe sometimes wondering how many women I confused or misled with my inexperience and lack of wisdom.

I hope I have improved.  I certainly have age and experience now, but the wisdom is an open question—always.  One thing about the age factor:  I have heard every excuse there is for not attending the women’s Bible study.  Are there truly valid reasons?  Yes, of course there are.  But there are far more of the other kind.  Let’s examine a few.

“It’s so difficult to pay attention with the little ones in tow, and it’s so embarrassing when they cause distractions.”  Yes, it is difficult, but there is no need to be embarrassed.  Over thirty years ago when my current Tuesday morning class started up, we all had children still at home.  We made comments over the heads of playing toddlers and it was not uncommon that a few mothers would occasionally have to throw down their books and Bibles and run comfort a crying baby or settle a small-fry squabble.  We were all in the same boat and understood, but we never let our children be the excuse we gave the Lord for not finding time to get together and study.

“But these lessons are so hard and take so long to do.”  I am afraid my lessons do tend to be this way.  But really now, what kind of hours would you expect to put in if you went back to school either to improve your job (vocation) or to get a promotion?  This is your spiritual education we’re talking about, and what you know will make a difference in how you conduct yourself in your spiritual vocation (Eph 4:1; 2 Pet 1:10) 

A long time ago a brother went to the elders about one of Keith’s classes.  “It’s too deep,” he complained.  Those good shepherds were wise enough and strong enough to tell that brother what he needed to hear instead of what he wanted to hear.  “If I had been a Christian for forty years like you have,” they said, “I would be ashamed to say something in the Bible was too deep for me.”  Are you aware of Jesus’ statement when the apostles asked him why he spoke in parables, making it harder for people to understand?  Because the ones who care enough will work hard enough to understand it, he told them.  Do you care that much?

I don’t make my lessons hard on purpose.  They seem difficult because the material is new to you.  I am trying to teach things you do not know, not rehash the things you do know.  That really would be superfluous and not worth a busy woman’s time.  Isn’t gaining a deeper knowledge and understanding of the Word of God worth rearranging your schedule, both in time to study and time to attend?  Can’t you give up something in order to study—like a TV show in the evenings?

“Well they are so hard I don’t even know what to write down in the blanks.”  Ask anyone in the class how I run it.  Despite the reputation I must surely have for being a mean old lady who likes to mortify people, I never put anyone on the spot.  If you don’t know the answer, leave it blank.  But how will you ever find the answer if you don’t come and listen for it?  A good percentage of the class does exactly that, and one even laughs about how much erasing she has to do.  Now that’s a great attitude.  Can’t you follow her example?

“My schedule is just so full.”  So is mine.  So is everyone’s.  The difference between those women and the ones who do not come (but could) is priorities.  They decided to make the time in their schedules for a Bible class.  They schedule things around it instead of the other way around.  They have trained their families to know, “Oh! It’s Tuesday,” or “the third Sunday,” and it really wasn’t that hard to do when they insisted on it.  And let’s just put this out there in black and white, plain and simple:  if you are too busy to study the Bible, you are too busy, and yes, maybe even sinfully busy if it causes you to neglect your Lord and His Word.

“Once I get older and have less to do, then I will start attending ladies’ Bible class.”  Wait a minute!  Who are the older women told to teach?  Not the older ones who “have less to do” but the younger ones, that’s who!  The things we older teachers have to tell you will actually help you during your younger years.  If you listen and use these things, you might just avoid the problems that so many of your friends have.   What good will it do you when you finally come to class and all you have to offer are the things you have learned not to do from hard experience instead of wise teaching?  All my “old faithfuls” began young.  The vast majority have stayed with it—that’s why the class looks like a bunch of older women, not because they are the only ones who have time. 

Many of the ones we have lost have moved to other areas.  I regularly hear from them how much they miss a class where they actually learn something new.  “We don’t have deep classes like this,” a visitor to our class once told me.  But here it is free for the taking to anyone who cares enough—and so few do. 

I know I am not some popular, funny, good-looking teacher.  I know my lessons stomp on toes because I make applications that are real to life instead of feel good fluff.  The truly good teachers I know do the same.  We want to help you.  We want to share with you what we have worked hard to obtain, what means the world to us and should mean the world to you. 

We also want to find young women who can take our places someday.  You simply must start early if you ever hope to do that.  I was 21 when I began serious, deep Bible study, and there is still so much left for me to learn and to share.  You could carry it on if you prepare yourself, but I can only give it if you are there to take it.
 
Older women likewise…are to teach what is good and to train the young women…Titus 2:3,4
And what you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses entrust to faithful [women] who will be able to teach others also. 2Tim 2:2
 
Dene Ward