A long time ago when I was a young mother, a wise, older woman made me stop and think with a few words that might have sounded harsh, but which she couched with an attitude of love and concern.  I had not taken a meal to a sick or grieving family for a long time; I had not taught a children’s class for about a year; I had not had anyone in my home for several months; I hadn’t even sent a card or made a phone call for awhile.  I was a busy young mother.  I had laundry to do every day including piles of diapers that never seemed to diminish, meals to fix, a baby to nurse and tend and a toddler to care for and teach, and a home that needed putting in some sort of order if just so we could keep track of where we put things, like the bills that needed paying. 
            Had this woman had the same problems years before when she was a young mother?  I suppose so, but I never even thought about that—all I thought about was my own problems, all the things I needed to do, how tired I was, and how I could not possibly do any of those other things because of the demands of my family and home. 
            She knew all this, but she still asked this simple question.  “What if,” she quietly said, “God decided to help you out by taking away all of your excuses?”
            After a moment of shock, I suddenly saw my children and my home in another light.  Here I was claiming to love them more than anything else, while telling everyone what an obstacle they were in my life, maybe not in words, but certainly in deeds—or lack of them.  Yes, serving my family is also serving God, but isn’t it hypocritical to then turn around and use that service as a reason not to serve others?  The last thing in the world I wanted was for God to take them away from me, and I determined that they would no longer be the excuses I offered for not doing what I could. 
            No, I could not spend hours and hours away from them, nor several hours caring for others directly, but surely I could pick up the phone or write a note when the babies were napping.  Surely I could fix an extra casserole when I made one for my family, and send it with someone else to a home where a mother was too sick to do it and the father was out working all day.  Surely, I could find something I could do.
            I think something else happened to my attitude that day, too.  I was suddenly aware of all the things that needed doing for others, and looking forward to a time when I could, instead of sitting at home, selfishly wondering when I would ever have “me time” again.  My home was where I wanted to be, but I also knew that I wanted to be doing what I could for others, when I could, for as long as I could, just like that kind sister who taught me a lesson with a simple question. 
            What kind of excuses have already come out of our mouths today?  What if God took them away in the blink of an eye so we could do those things we claim to want to do “if only…?”
 
But he said unto him, A certain man made a great supper; and he bade many: and he sent forth his servant at supper time to say to them that were bidden, Come; for things are now ready. And they all with one consent began to make excuse. The first said unto him, I have bought a field, and I must needs go out and see it; I pray have me excused.  And another said, I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to prove them; I pray have me excused. And another said, I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come. And the servant came, and told his lord these things. Then the master of the house being angry said to his servant, Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in the poor and maimed and blind and lame... For I say unto you, that none of those men that were bidden shall taste of my supper. Luke 14:16-21,24.
 
Dene Ward

Yesterday I was sweeping, an almost daily chore when you have laminate flooring and live in the country.  Even though we have outdoor shoes that we leave on the porch and change to indoor shoes as we enter, we still track in more dirt and sand on our dress shoes than seems possible.  The dustpan seldom contains less than a quarter cup per room.
            As I bent down to scrape that quarter cup into my dust pan one day, Phil 3:8 suddenly flashed through my mind.  Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ (Phil 3:8).  That dustpan was holding what my ESV calls "rubbish."  When I was a child I know that word in my little white KJV was something else entirely, but in either case it was something one would definitely want to be rid of.
            But what did Paul say that "rubbish" was?  "…circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless (Phil 3:4-6).  Paul was talking about his religious identity, his claim to be a man of God, and his accolades under the Law—as a zealous student of Gamaliel he was destined for greatness in Judaism. 
            So what does that mean my own personal dustpan is full of?  My "pedigree," my education, any awards and accolades I have gained in my fields, even my wealth and possessions.  Paul gave up all those things for Christ, but does that mean I have to?  When push comes to shove I most certainly do.  When my faith causes me to be reviled and persecuted (Matt 5:11), insulted (1 Pet 4:14), to suffer "the plunder of my property" (Heb 10:34), to be imprisoned (Heb 13:3), or even to be killed (Rev 12:11), then that is what I must endure.  Everything I have I should count as "rubbish."  Whether it's a beautiful home I love, or status in the community, or friends, or a bank account or stock portfolio—it should all be rubbish in my eyes.  
            Paul gave up everything for the Lord.  The next time you sweep, mentally place in that dustpan everything he put in it—and mean it.  If you haven't done it already in your heart, should the time ever come for you that finally came for him, you will never be able to follow his example.
 
But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ (Phil 3:7-8).
 
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

"You are not what we need right now."
            I wonder how many times people have heard that as they were turned down for a job.  I suppose it might be the nicest way to reject an applicant.  The unfortunate thing is that many preachers have heard similar comments, usually when they are asked to leave.  I can't help but think of the prophet Amos.
            For some reason God chose that old country boy, a shepherd and farmer (Amos 1:1; 7:14) who came from the sticks of the Southern kingdom to preach to the more sophisticated social elite of the Northern kingdom.  Just imagine sending an Arkansas hillbilly to preach to people in New York City and you have the picture.  Our first reaction might be, "What in the world was God thinking?"  The people of Israel, and Amos himself, wondered about that. 
            And Amaziah said to Amos, O seer, go, flee away to the land of Judah, and eat bread there, and prophesy there, but never again prophesy at Bethel, for it is the king's sanctuary, and it is a temple of the kingdom. Then Amos answered and said to Amaziah, I was no prophet, nor a prophet's son, but I was a herdsman and a dresser of sycamore figs. But the LORD took me from following the flock, and the LORD said to me, Go, prophesy to my people Israel (Amos 7:12-15).  We don't want you, he was told.  And Amos as much as answered, "Hey!  This wasn't my idea!"  But Amos obeyed God and preached what he was told to preach.
            What most of us want in a preacher is a Hosea, the one we call the prophet of lovingkindness.  We want someone to pat us on the back and tell us that everything will be all right as long as we have sincere hearts and try real hard to be good.  The truth is that Hosea is more the exception than the rule when it comes to God's prophets.  The rest of them never mince words and tell it like it is no matter who doesn't want to hear it.  Why do you think so many wound up sitting in prison, running for their lives, or being martyred?
            What we must understand is that we do not always, maybe even seldom, know exactly what we need.  It may very well be that what I need is a good swift kick in the rear to wake me up from self-delusion about my spiritual state.  Do I want that?  Of course not.  I doubt if anyone does, but I will be much happier in the end if I get what I need instead of what I want.
            Be careful about thinking you know exactly what you need spiritually.  People who are watching you may have another viewpoint altogether.  Remember that when an Amos approaches and be ready to thank him.
 
And he said to me, Son of man, I send you to the people of Israel, to nations of rebels, who have rebelled against me. They and their fathers have transgressed against me to this very day. The descendants also are impudent and stubborn: I send you to them, and you shall say to them, Thus says the Lord GOD. And whether they hear or refuse to hear (for they are a rebellious house) they will know that a prophet has been among them (Ezek 2:3-5).
 
Dene Ward
 

This year’s garden made me even more aware that I am growing older.  The heat made me woozier than ever before.  The bending over gave me a backache that lasted all day and usually into the night.  My hands no longer have the strength to win the tug of war with most weeds.  And I just plain wear out faster.  We looked at one another and asked, “How much longer can we do this?”  It’s not the only time we ask that question.
           Will this be our last dog?  Will this one be our last car?  How much longer can we take care of this acreage with a shovel, a tiller, and a chainsaw?  We did, in fact, decide that our last camping trip was probably the “last.”  The drive is harder on us.  The set-up takes longer and longer and more and more energy.  We often wind up just sitting around the fire a whole day afterward to recover.  Then there is the pull down and the drive home, and the seemingly endless unpacking and putting up.  When we found ourselves dreading the next trip, we knew it was time to quit.
            And so I look at our work in the kingdom and think, “How much longer do we have?”  How many more classes will we be able to teach?  How many more “weekends” will I be able to travel and teach large groups of ladies?  And the more I wonder these things, the more I feel like screaming out, “You need to call while you can!  You need to come while I am still able to see my notes and talk!  You need to arrange your schedule and get here if you want anything I have left to give.”  Because I really do want to share it with you, and I never know what tomorrow will bring. 
            I know several other older women who feel exactly the same way.  None of us are getting any younger and it is precisely that problem that gives us so much to share with you—experience only comes with age, but age makes life precarious.
            Every day we are closer to the last, and before that, we are closer to an age when our service will become limited, when all we may be able to do is offer to someone younger an opportunity to serve an older brother or sister.  We will eventually become like Barzillai, the wealthy old man who supported David when Absalom rebelled.  As David headed back to the palace, he asked Barzillai to come with him so he could be honored for his loyalty and service in an appropriate way.  But Barzillai said to the king, “How many years have I still to live, that I should go up with the king to Jerusalem? I am this day eighty years old. Can I discern what is pleasant and what is not? Can your servant taste what he eats or what he drinks? Can I still listen to the voice of singing men and singing women? Why then should your servant be an added burden to my lord the king? 2Sam 19:34-35.  But even at 80 he had served as he could, even if all it amounted to was using his wealth and his servants to do for his king, rather than doing the serving himself. 
           It is said of David after he had served the purpose of God in his own generation he fell asleep, Acts 13:36.  As long as we are still alive, there is still a purpose of God to be served—we just have to use a little more creativity in finding it!
           And for those who are young and reading this, your time is running out too.  None of us really knows how long we have left.  “All things being equal” we say about the young outliving us, but in this life nothing is ever “equal.”  I have seen too many young people lose their lives to disease and accident to feel at all comfortable for you.  You need to make the most of your time too.  The purpose God has in mind for you may be a very short one.
           And so it is up to all of us to make the most of the time, to “redeem it” as Paul told the Ephesians.  Do not put off the spiritual things—Bible study, prayer, meditating, serving.  Do not think that “someday” you will be in an easier time of life, a time when you can become a better Christian, a better father or mother, a better husband or wife.  That time will never come unless you make it happen.
          The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty; yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away. Ps 90:10 
          It flies faster than you can ever imagine, and if you have not prepared yourself properly, eternity will last longer than you ever thought possible.
 
O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come. Ps 71:17-18
 
Dene Ward

"I am not a child.  I don't have to learn memory verses."
            I am happy to report that this one was not said anywhere I have been a member of the Lord's body, at least that I know of.  It was reported to me by a reader.  Evidently, the preacher or Bible class teacher had asked everyone to memorize a verse each week.  One member was not happy about this and expressed that unhappiness with the comment above.
            I do recognize that as we age, memory becomes more of an issue.  But despite that, how many things have you committed to memory anyway?  Your address, your land line number, your cell number, your office number, your social security number, your date of birth, perhaps a safe combination, various passwords, all of which have become much more complicated by adding symbols and numbers, your security code for the alarm system, the entrance code if you live in a gated community, maybe even a credit card number.  Need I list more?
            So what kind of examples do we have in the Bible?  The apostles remembered Jesus' words (Luke 24:8; John 2:22; John 15:22; Acts 11:26; Acts 20:35).  Joshua told the Israelites to remember Moses's words (Josh 1:13).  In fact, to this day, traditional Jews still recite at least a portion of the Shema, Deuteronomy 6:4-9, daily.  Their rabbis recite that plus Deuteronomy 11:13-21 and Numbers 15:37-41 twice a day.  The Psalmist meditated on the Word of God (Psalm 119:48, 97).  How could he meditate on something all day long that he had not committed to memory, at least the gist of?  And why did he want to meditate on it?  Because he loved the Law of God enough to do so (Psalm 119:127, 159, 165, 167).
            Notice:  none of those people were children.  They were all adults who understood the importance of having God's Word spring instantly to their lips when they needed it.  They had enough love for the Word of God that they studied it constantly, and thought about it while they lived their daily lives.  The apostles were even able to recall a verse from the thousands in the Old Testament whenever an event in Jesus' life reminded them of it (e.g., John 2:16,17).
            Unlike those people from so long ago, we are lucky enough to have the Bible sitting on a shelf in our living rooms or bedrooms.  Some of us have a dozen or so counting all the versions and styles.  That does not let us off the hook if we can't find what we need when we need it.  The Devil won't wait until you have everything at hand so you can fight him off easily.  He will wait until you are alone and away from your inspired Help, and then he will plant that thought in your mind—you are not a child; you don't need to know all this stuff anyway.  The thing is, you really do.
 
I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you (Ps 119:11).

Dene Ward

If there is one thing Keith taught our sons, it is how to work.  Living on five acres with a huge garden, several animals, and a wood-burning stove for heat, but only rakes, shovels, hoes, a wheelbarrow, and a push mower to work with—no, it was not self-propelled, and we had no tractors or other power equipment—meant they had chores that had to be done or the family suffered.  They certainly did not appreciate the lesson then, but they have thanked him several times since they left home and entered the work force.  More than once their bosses have told me, “I wish I had a store full of your boys.”
            Lucas, my older son, spent some time in management with a large grocery chain.  He often laments the workers he has to deal with, who have no sense of responsibility, showing up late or not at all, who never anticipate needs, never see what needs doing on their own, or who simply lollygag around with no sense of urgency or efficiency.  The saddest ones, he says, are the young ones who really want to do a good job, but whose parents have never taught them how, either by assigning chores, or actually expecting them to be done well and on time.  The ones who irritate him the most are the ones who think showing up and clocking in means they are working, even if all they do is stand in the halls and talk.
            God has called us to work in his vineyard.  I am sure he is patient with those who need to learn how to work.  But some treat their job in the vineyard as an entitlement that precludes any notion of actual labor.  As long as they clock in (submit in baptism, show up on Sunday morning—choose your application), they are “earning” their paycheck.  We have forgotten that the only “wages” we can earn is death.  Eternal life is a precious gift, and how we work in the vineyard is directly proportionate to our gratitude for it.  Am I standing in the halls talking, or am I wearing myself out laboring for the Lord?
 
Let us therefore labor to enter in that rest, that no man fall after the same example of disobedience.  Heb 4:11
 
Dene Ward

Perhaps you remember Newton’s second law of motion from high school physics (or is it the third?  Hey!  At least I can remember the law):  for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.
            Sometimes we live our lives by this law as well.  We constantly react to what others do, and excuse it because of what the other person did first.  Christianity is a life of action not reaction.  My actions should not depend upon what other people do, but upon what is right and what is wrong.  Any time I let someone else’s behavior “cause” me to do something; I am actually letting that person control me.  How often have I said, “He made me so mad?”  No, he didn’t. I let myself get angry.  When I stand before the throne of God, I will not be judged on other people’s deeds but upon mine, no matter what the other guy did first. 
            Most of us know this, and readily spout the appropriate answers when called upon in Sunday morning Bible study, but when we get out in the world things are always “different.”  No, they are not.  These things apply to my relationship with my next door neighbor, my co-workers, my family, yes, even to that driver up in front of me!  Then there is the matter of poor service in a restaurant, or a delay in the doctor’s office, or a faulty product that needs returning.  All of these offer me a chance to act as a Christian, not react as an unbeliever who has no self-control.  Yes, in our society we are allowed to voice our concerns over shoddy service and merchandise, but Christians never have the right to make a scene or be verbally abusive.  By letting others control me, I am showing how weak I truly am, not how strong.
            Christians control themselves—they do not let others do it.  Is this easy?  Not with Satan constantly whispering in my ear, “He had it coming.”  Like Eve, I often listen to him.  But this is how important ignoring that whisper is:  I must constantly ask myself why I have acted as I have.  If the answer starts, “Because he/she/they…” I am condemned already.
 
Jesus’ Laws of Motion:         
For this is acceptable, if for conscience toward God a man endures griefs, suffering wrongfully.  For what glory is it if, when you sin and are buffeted for it, you shall take it patiently?  But if, when you do well and suffer for it you shall take it patiently, this is acceptable with God.  For hereunto were you called:  because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow his steps; who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth; who, when he was reviled, reviled not again, when he suffered, threatened not, but committed himself to him that judges righteously.   1 Pet 2:19-23
 
And as you would that men should do to you, do you also to them likewise. And if you love those who love you, what thank have you?  For even sinners love those who love them.  And if you do good to them that do good to you, what thank have you?  For even sinners do the sane.  And if you lend to those of whom you hope to receive, what thank have you?  Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive again as much.  But love your enemies and do them good, and lend, never despairing, and your reward shall be great, and you shall be sons of the Most High, for he is kind toward the unthankful and evil.  Luke 6:31-35
 
Dene Ward

After one particular surgery a few years ago, I had bled far more than the surgeon expected.  I needed a transfusion, he said, but given the state of the world these days, and the fact that a couple pints would have done the job, he took the conservative approach instead.  For the next few months I took a prescription iron pill, one more easily absorbed by the body than the over the counter varieties.  I don’t claim to know the entire effects of “running a quart low,” but I do know this.  I started every day tired and it only got worse.  And I was constantly cold.  Even though it was summer in Florida, I was wrapped in a blanket most of the time.
            Aside from the obvious Biblical applications about atoning blood, I find another worth mentioning.  John 6 is not about the Lord’s Supper.  John 6 is about commitment. 
            A sizable crowd had begun following Jesus on a regular basis.  They had been hanging around long enough to see several miracles, hear several parables, even be fed at his hand from five small loaves of bread and a couple of fish.  It was time, Jesus decided, to ask them to be more than hangers on, more than groupies enamored with the publicity of the local celebrity.
            Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. 6:53-55.
            Far from believing he meant this literally, I think when they said things like, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” they were just trying to avoid the obvious.  They were not in this for the long haul.  They didn’t want to get that involved.  They just wanted something fun and interesting to do for a few days.
            Jesus forced them to a decision.  This is not something you can do half-heartedly.  This is not something you can do while giving a lot of yourself to something else too.  I must be your sustenance, he was saying to them.  Nothing else should matter to you. 
            And they knew exactly what he meant. After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him, v 66. 
            I am afraid some of us are not even that honest.  We want to pretend we are living off the Lord, eating and drinking him night and day, when it is merely a pleasant pastime on the weekends, a source of comfort should a family member become ill, and a handy group for wedding and baby showers.  (Truly, truly, I say to you, you are seeking me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves, v 26.)  The Lord tells us we might as well leave with the rest of the crowd.
            Why?  Because when we are running a quart low of Jesus, we will be too weak to withstand temptations and trials.  When we are running a quart low, our zeal will eventually grow cold.  We need as much of him as we can hold to overcome, to grow, and to change our characters, ready to live faithfully even to the point of death.  We cannot do it any other way.  
            Lev 17:11 says, “The life of flesh is in the blood.”  I have a new appreciation of that fact since that long summer of anemia.  Don’t make yourself spiritually anemic, and then expect God to reward you with eternal life.
 
As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like the bread the fathers ate and died. Whoever feeds on this bread will live forever." John 6:57,58.
 
Dene Ward

If you are like me, it took a long day, or maybe even more than one, to get out those boxes of decorations and turn your homes into fantasy lands of colored lights, sparkly globes and shiny tinsel.  Awhile back I finally gave into my sons’ groans and stopped hanging the handmade elementary school ornaments.  Still, I have a fondness for macaroni glued to a paper plate, spray-painted gold and flecked with green glitter, and toilet paper rolls attired in shiny red paper, white lace, and sequins.  They bring back a lot of precious memories my sons will not understand until they have their own masterpieces hanging on an evergreen limb.
            And have you ever noticed that people adorn themselves as well?  Not their clothing, though this time of year I see magazine and newspaper ads full of expensive, gaudy clothes I would never have a place to wear.  I am talking about their behavior.  Even the biggest heathen in the world does not want to be called a Grinch and struggles to adorn himself with “the holiday spirit.”  I am glad that at least one month a year we must put up with less grouchiness, less complaining, and less selfish behavior from the public at large.  But I wonder what God thinks about it.
            The true Christian has the “mind of the spirit” no matter what month the calendar shows.  He is liberal in his giving, not just to get in a tax deduction before the end of his fiscal year, but because he truly wants to help others.  He is considerate of others, not because someone has reminded him with a poke in the ribs that “it’s Christmas,” but because he is in the habit of serving others.  He smiles and laughs, not because he has indulged in a little too much “holiday cheer,” but because he lives a life of joy as a child of God.  He shows courtesy in traffic, in parking lots, and in long check-out lines, not because of the lights and wreaths hanging all over town to remind him this is the month for “peace on earth, good will to men,” but because he lives that way all year long.
            Next week the calendar will change.  “January” will signal the start of a new year.  Will my behavior change as well?  Or do I live the same way regardless of the calendar, as a Christian who follows in the steps of the one I claim to be my Lord--kind, courteous, considerate, joyful, and full of goodwill to all?
 
Put on therefore as God’s elect, holy and beloved, a heart of compassion, kindness, lowliness, meekness, longsuffering, forbearing one another and forgiving each other, if any man have a complaint against any, even as the Lord forgave you, so also do you.  And above all these things, put on love which is the bond of perfectness, Col 3:12-14.
 
Dene Ward