Many years ago we were wandering through a piano store looking for a light to go over the music stand on my own piano.  My parents had allowed me to take that one with me when I married, a Baldwin Acrosonic built in 1960 for which they paid $750.00, new.  As we meandered through the store waiting for a salesman to become free, I passed a mahogany studio grand and stopped in my tracks for a closer look.  It was a Knabe, the brand used by the Metropolitan Opera in those days, and the price tag said $5500.00.  No way, I thought.  This is a $20,000 instrument!  I sat down and ran through a Scarlatti sonata and the first movement of a Haydn.  The piano sounded and felt just fine.  What was going on?
            Finally the salesman made it over to us and showed us the piano lamp we had been looking at, but which had no price tag.  It clipped to the music stand so that the light was not on the back of the piano, but directly over the music, just like I wanted, and needed, for these eyes.  After a moment or two of research he came back with a price--$75.00!  As I said, this was many years ago and that represented nearly half of our weekly income.  I didn't even spend that much on groceries for a family of four back then.
            We were ready to walk out when Keith happened to ask about the grand and we got the whole story.  It had been willed to the University of Florida by an alumnus from Miami and it was a huge contrast to all the other brand spanking new pianos—it had a scratch here and there.  This one, we were told, came out at the turn of the 20th century because it had a chestnut core, and a blight hit the American chestnut first in 1904 and completely destroyed them within the next 40 years.  Yes, Knabes were great pianos and this one probably classified as an antique, but it just would not do on the stages of the University of Florida Music Department, which ultimately became a Steinway School of Music.  The university had traded it in on another new Steinway.  That accounted for the price.  For the average piano buyer, it was a steal, and it competed with the new ones on the floor.  The store owner simply wanted it sold as quickly as possible.
            Then Keith suddenly started dickering with the salesman about the piano.  I could not believe my ears.  We couldn't afford a $75.00 piano light, but he was talking about buying a $5500 piano?  I stood there in shock as he first got the salesman down to an even $5000, but that wasn't good enough for him—and it certainly wasn't good enough for our budget.  He mentioned our piano and asked about a trade-in. 
            Finally the salesman had to stop.  "I can't go any further," he said.  "You'll have to talk to the boss."
            And talk he did.  We left that place with a date for delivery, plus a $1000 trade-in (for one that had originally been $750!) off the new price of $4000, leaving $3000 for us to pay.  They threw the piano light in for nothing.  The next morning we would go to the bank for a loan, but on the way out of that store that afternoon, the news having reached him as he waited on another customer, the salesman called out, "Come back when you need another light!"
             So that's the story of how one of my dreams came true—a grand piano.  But the more important story is this:  Did you notice that the salesman was only authorized to do so much, and after that he had to go ask the boss?  In religion today, people scoff at authority.  Anyone who claims we need to have God's permission to do something is called a Pharisee, a legalist, or worse.  Yet every day we deal with the concept of authority and have no problem understanding it at all.  Who can sign your credit card?  Who can withdraw money from your bank account?  Yet people suddenly get up in arms when someone questions their right to change the worship God asked for, the method of salvation he demanded, or the life he requires us to lead.  If God does not have the authority to tell us how to do these things, then pray tell, who does?
            Most people think they do.  Perhaps you should consider that notion again if you find out someone has taken your credit card number and charged a few thousand dollars on it.  How can you complain when you don't think your Creator has the right to tell you how He wants to be worshipped, or what it would take to form a relationship with Him?  If that salesman had given us the deal the boss did, he would have probably been fired, and he knew it.  Why are we so smart everywhere except when dealing with the Almighty God?
 
And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of [by the authority of] the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him (Col 3:17).
For all the peoples walk each in the name of its god, but we will walk in the name of the LORD our God forever and ever (Mic 4:5).
 
Dene Ward

I certainly do not mean to be judgmental, but when people actually say it out loud, when they write it on Facebook posts, isn’t it a matter of “by your words you will be condemned” (Matt 12:37)?

            Listen to the things people say about why they worship where they worship, or what makes that place appealing to them.
            “I love the singing there.”
            “The preacher is so easy for me to listen to.”
            “I feel so good when I leave.”
            “Everyone is so friendly and loving to me.”
            “They came to visit me while I was in the hospital.”

            Okay, so maybe a few of them are not terrible reasons, but do you see a common denominator in them all?  It’s all about me and how I feel.
Why is it you never hear things like this?
            “I go because my God expects me to be a part of a group worship and accountable to a group of brethren and godly elders.” 
            “I go so I can provoke others to love and good works as the Bible says.”
            “I go to study God’s Word and this group actually studies the Bible instead of some synod’s pamphlet.”     
         “The sermons often step on my toes, but I want to be challenged to improve as a disciple of Christ.”

Can you see a completely different center of attention in those?  In fact, if the second list can be said to center on the object of our worship, what does that say about the object of worship in the first list?

I hear items from the first list often, but from the second seldom, if ever.  So here is my question:  If a person cannot find any items from the first list in a church, does that excuse him from the assembled worship in his area?  Of course not.

So why do we act like we are sacrificing something if the only place available has a preacher with poor speaking ability, no one who can carry a tune, and isn’t particularly outgoing?  If that is my idea of sacrificing for my Lord, I’d better hope our country never builds a modern Coliseum. 

Sometimes serving God is not a lot of fun.  Sometimes it isn’t very exciting.  Sometimes it is a lot of work with little appreciation.  Sometimes we will be ignored.  Sometimes we will be criticized.  Sometimes we will be the object of scorn and sometimes these things will come at the hands of our own brethren.  If I can’t take a boring sermon and off-key singing, what makes me think I can handle real persecution? 

If I would be ashamed for my first century martyred brethren to hear my griping about the church, why do I think it is acceptable for anyone to hear it?  Does it glorify God?  Does it magnify His church and His people?  No, I imagine it sends everyone else running from instead of running to “the pillar and ground of the truth,” the church for which “he gave himself up,” the manifestation of His “manifold wisdom” (1 Tim 3:15; Eph 5:25; 3:10).

And if somehow we could call it some sort of trial or persecution to worship with a group that is not exactly the ideal, what would the proper attitude be?  Certainly not griping about it, but rather “rejoicing that we are counted worthy to suffer,” (Acts 5:41).  Why, maybe we should actually go out and look for those places to worship! 

And if I did choose one of those places to hang my hat, would it really become any better with someone like me in it?  Make no mistake.  It isn’t about whether the kingdom of God, specifically the one I attend, is worthy of me and my commendation, it’s about whether I can ever be worthy of it.
 
For you know how, like a father with his children, we exhorted each one of you and encouraged you and charged you to walk in a manner worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory, 1Thess 2:11-12.
 
Dene Ward
 

I learned hospitality from my parents, and it was not because we had a large home with extra guest rooms and plenty of money to prepare lavish meals.  The first house I remember as a child was a two bedroom, one (tiny) bath house. We had an eat-in kitchen, not because it had plenty of room for a table and chairs but because that was the only place to eat, on a narrow ledge against the wall that we called a bar, three down one side and one person at the end, right in the doorway.  What I learned about hospitality in that little place was that our meager means had nothing to do with whether or not we offered it.
            I remember my mother talking about another young couple in the same congregation who understood the word exactly as they did.  After a Sunday evening service, my mother would look at the woman and say, "Well, I have a dozen eggs."  The woman would look back at her and say, "I have a loaf of bread."  Then that couple would come to our house and we would all eat scrambled eggs and toast.  And nothing else, because that is all we had.  Yet they did this again and again and their relationship became closer and closer because of it.
            I can imagine that some are thinking, "How awful!  I would never invite someone over for scrambled eggs and toast and nothing else."  And that means they do not understand the reason for all those hospitality commands in the New Testament.  As those two young couples learned:  it's not about fancy meals and beautiful accommodations—it's about being together.
            And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved (Acts 2:46-47).  One of the reasons the early church grew and became as close as blood relatives was that they were together as much as possible, not just in their worship, but also in the homes, "day by day."
            I presented this once at a women's gathering and it was immediately objected to.  "That's not what we do these days," a woman said, meaning it is no longer a pleasant little custom to stop by and see one another in the evenings during the week, or even have someone over for an impromptu Sunday evening supper.  Well, guess what?  It wasn't a custom in the Roman Empire either.  Why do you think those commands are scattered through so many books in the New Testament?  Those people had to learn to do it, and they did because that is what they were told to do, and what they ultimately discovered would make the church what God intended it to be, and it did.
            Many years ago we had a dismal week that left us near to despair in our work with a particular congregation.  A couple there took it upon themselves to drop by to cheer us up.  Because of my mother's influence, I simply had to offer them something.  I had baked ginger cookies (we couldn't afford chocolate chips) the day before to put in the boys' cookie jar, and Keith is a master popcorn popper, the old-fashioned way, on the stove-top with bacon drippings.  That is what we offered them—ginger cookies and popcorn, and we sat there stuffing our faces while the gloom melted from our hearts like sun on the morning fog--for at least a little while.  That is what hospitality among brethren is all about.
            This week, find someone with a loaf of bread and offer them some scrambled eggs to go along with it.  It may not be haute cuisine ("high cooking"), but it will certainly lift your spirits higher, and who knows what other good may come of it?  After all, it was God's idea in the first place.
 
Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality (Rom 12:13).
Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins. Show hospitality to one another without grumbling (1Pet 4:8-9).
One who heard us was a woman named Lydia, from the city of Thyatira, a seller of purple goods, who was a worshiper of God. The Lord opened her heart to pay attention to what was said by Paul. And after she was baptized, and her household as well, she urged us, saying, “If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come to my house and stay.” And she prevailed upon us (Acts 16:14-15).
 
Dene Ward
 
 

I am sure you have heard this little story.  I first heard it as a teenager, a long time ago. 
            A father gave his little boy a dime and a nickel.  (Like I said, an OLD story.)  "You keep one and give the other to the Lord," were his directions.
            The little boy went to church that day and when the collection plate came around, proudly put in the nickel.  The father was disappointed, but since he had given the little guy the choice, he would not scold him.  He simply asked, "Why did you choose the nickel?"
            "Well, daddy, I know that God loves a cheerful giver, and I can be a whole lot more cheerful by giving the nickel and keeping the dime."
            We may laugh at a child's reasoning, but I have seen adults come close to the same myself.  Haven't you ever heard someone say, "I know this isn't what God said to do, but my heart is right?"
            Let's be plain about this.  You cannot deliberately disobey God and still have a good heart.  It is impossible.  It's one thing to be in ignorance; it's another to know better and do otherwise.
            What did the Lord tell the church at Thyatira?  I will strike her children dead. And all the churches will know that I am he who searches mind and heart, and I will give to each of you according to your works (Rev 2:23).  God searches your heart and then requites according to your works, because ultimately, your deeds show the true state of your heart.  ​The good person out of the good treasure of his heart produces good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure produces evil, for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks (Luke 6:45).  A willfully disobedient person simply cannot produce good; that disobedience comes from an evil heart no matter what he claims.
            Every relationship produces some sort of emotion.  A good relationship will produce good emotions—love, compassion, concern, a desire to please-- and a bad one will produce bad ones—anger, envy, bitterness, hatred.  Our relationship with God should produce good emotions, but one should always be careful of being ruled by those emotions.  The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it? ​I the LORD search the heart and test the mind, to give every man according to his ways, according to the fruit of his deeds (Jer 17:9-10).  Did you catch that?  Here is the process:  He will search the heart, then test the mind, then give according to his deeds. 
"God won't mind if I…" is a classic example of thinking that willful disobedience can come from a good heart.  But Paul told the Romans that we are expected to "obey from the heart," not disobey, Rom 6:17.
            The immaturity of the little boy in that old story above is almost precious.  Believe me, God expects far more from adults who claim to love him with all their heart.
 
Jesus answered him, “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him. Whoever does not love me does not keep my words. And the word that you hear is not mine but the Father's who sent me (John 14:23-24).
 
Dene Ward

Have you ever said as you left the meetinghouse on Sunday morning, “I didn’t get much out of the worship today?”
            Just examine that statement for a moment.  We are there for our group worship, the worship we are commanded to do when we are “gathered together.”  Who is it that we are worshipping?  I don’t think it’s me, and I don’t think it’s you.  When it comes to the worship aspect, I think it matters what God thinks of it, not us. 
            We sit in an auditorium with a raised platform in front of us.  Several different men take turns standing before us to lead us in various aspects of our worship to God.  Sometimes that gives us the mistaken idea that we are the audience.  No, we are the performers.  God is the audience, and if He “doesn’t get much out of our worship,” it’s our fault, not His, nor that of the men who try so hard to lead us, and seldom get anything but complaints for their efforts. 
            What would you think of a performer who gave a lackadaisical performance, who acted like he couldn’t care less that someone was watching him?  If I paid good money for a ticket, I would want my money back.  I wonder if that’s what God thinks as we “worship” by barely mumbling through our songs, daydreaming during prayers, and making faces at the babies in front of us during the sermons.  I wonder if He would like to have back what it cost Him for us to be able to come before Him and worship Him.  You see, He is watching our performance; He is the audience.  It doesn’t really matter if I don’t like the songs chosen, if I think the prayer is too long, if I think the sermon is boring.  What matters is, did I worship God with all my heart in spite of those things?  That’s what this Audience grades us on.  I don’t want Him to ask for a refund.
            So this Sunday as I leave the meetinghouse I should ask myself this, “How well did I worship my God this morning?”  Whether or not this is all there is to my worship is another matter entirely, but this question certainly makes a good start on answering that one too, don’t you think?
 
Oh Jehovah, truly I am your servant;
I am your servant, the son of your handmaid.
You have loosed my bonds.
I will offer to you the sacrifices of thanksgiving,
And will call upon the name of Jehovah.
I will pay my vows unto Jehovah,
Even in the presence of all his people.
In the courts of Jehovah’s house,
In the midst of you, O Jerusalem,
Praise Jehovah.
Psalm 116:16-19
 
Dene Ward

As morning dawned, the angels urged Lot, saying, “Up! Take your wife and your two daughters who are here, lest you be swept away in the punishment of the city.” But he lingered. So the men seized him and his wife and his two daughters by the hand, the LORD being merciful to him, and they brought him out and set him outside the city. Gen 19:15-16
 
            Here the Lord offers salvation to Lot who, by what we have previously seen, truly believes in the coming destruction and truly hates the sin in Sodom.  But what does he do?  “He lingers…”  And finally, and only because God is merciful and that probably because of Abraham (Gen 19:29), the angels grabbed them all by the hands and pulled them out of the city. 

            How many times do we linger where we have no business being, even after we know we should be gone?  Sin has a pull of its own, and if God were not pulling in the opposite direction, many of us would be gone without a fight.

            But we have talked much about sin in this short series.  How about things that are not necessarily sins?  How about those resolutions we make, not just at the New Year’s dawn, but when suddenly we realize we are not what we should be?  When a lesson suddenly slaps us in the face and we recognize our failures.  How many times have I heard things like, “I am going to start studying more.  In fact, I am going to come to your classes.”  But when reality hits, when they find out it takes work and commitment and maybe canceling a few other things that are a lot more fun, suddenly it is not a priority.

            Most of the members of my classes are older women.  Don’t tell me, “Well, they have the time.”  When we started this class almost thirty years ago, they were the young women with families, and some had jobs too.  Yet they had their priorities in order.  It is as simple, and as damning, as that.

            So you need to make a change of some kind, be it more study, more prayer, more service, or some other neglected virtue.  Then make it, but recognize from the get-go that you will have to leave some things behind in order to make the time.  Don’t “linger” in Sodom.  It will only make the transition more difficult. Jump in with both feet, whatever the change you want to make, and don’t look back.  Before long you will love the new you.
 
When I think on my ways, I turn my feet to your testimonies; I hasten and do not delay to keep your commandments. Ps 119:59-60
 
Dene Ward

The beginning of a three part series that will continue tomorrow and Wednesday.

What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun. Eccl 1:9
 
I was reading through Genesis 19 preparing for a class on Lot’s wife and daughters when suddenly the verse above sprang to mind.  Over and over I saw things I have seen all my life and the thought came unbidden, “We are living in Sodom.” 

No, I was not thinking about modern issues.  None of the things that I noticed in the text that afternoon had anything to do with that, at least not specifically.  In fact, the things I noticed had been happening through my entire life, even as far back as the 1960s when everyone thinks we were still innocent and relatively godly.  Let’s see if you see what I did.
 
Lot went out to the men at the entrance, shut the door after him, and said, “I beg you, my brothers, do not act so wickedly…But they said, “Stand back!” And they said, “This fellow came to sojourn, and he has become the judge!” Gen 19:6-9
 
Whenever any moral issue comes up, if you express any sort of disapproval--even if all you do is refuse to participate—suddenly you are accused of “judging.”  Never mind that is exactly what is done to you by this accusation.  That does not matter.  It happened all those thousands of years ago and it happens now.  People have not changed.  If you behave differently than others, you are “judging.”  No one can tolerate being seen as less than righteous, even when righteousness is the last thing on their minds.

Since it is such a universal, and timeless, reaction, maybe we should ask ourselves this:  Has anyone accused me of being judgmental lately?  If not, why not?  Is it just that I only associate with Christians, with good moral friends and neighbors?  Or is it that I have not expressed any disapproval lately, nor refused to participate, whether it be in gossip, slander, drinking, pornography, foul language, immodest dress, or any other acts a Christian needs to abhor? 

Paul said:  and have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather even reprove them; Eph 5:11.  We do a whole lot better with the first half of that command than the last.  I think it is because we do not want even the mild persecution that comes along with it.  We want to be liked—by the world.  We don’t want to be accused of “judging.”

Even “righteous Lot” was accused of judging.  Peter says he “was greatly distressed by the conduct of the wicked” (2 Pet 2:7).  Given the rest of his life, do we really want to be viewed as less righteous than he?
 
Being filled with all unrighteousness, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness; full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, malignity; whisperers, backbiters, hateful to God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents, without understanding, covenant-breakers, without natural affection, unmerciful: who, knowing the ordinance of God, that they that practice such things are worthy of death, not only do the same, but also consent with them that practice them. Rom 1:29-32
 
Dene Ward

How do you explain
How do you describe
A love that goes from East to West
And runs as deep as it is wide?
You know all our hopes
Lord, You know all our fears
And words cannot express the love we feel
But we long for You to hear.

Chorus:
So listen to our hearts
Hear our spirits sing
A song of praise that flows
For those You have redeemed
And we use the words we know
To tell you what an awesome God You are
But when words are not enough
To tell You of our love
Just listen to our hearts.

If words could fall like rain
From these lips of mine
And if I had a thousand years
I would still run out of time.
So if You listen to my heart
Every beat will say
Thank you for the Life
Thank you for the Truth
Thank you for the Way.

(Chorus)
           
            It's a relatively new hymn, as you can tell by all the syncopation, which no ordinary church member sings correctly, and by a three note repetitive "melody" in the verse section, supplemented only by a low sol as an occasional trampoline.  (Can't anyone write an actual melody anymore?)  Still, especially with the added chorus, it's catchy and you find yourself humming it later in the week.  But these are not my main issues with the song.
            "Listen to Our Hearts," the lyrics ask of God, and my mind immediately goes to Romans 8 where we are promised that even when we don't know what to pray for, we have an advocate and intermediary who will take the thoughts behind our meager words and deliver them to the Father.  But wait!  That is not what this song is about.  Look at the chorus again.
            "When words are not enough/ to tell you of our love/ listen to our hearts."  If it means anything, it means that the best way we can express our love to God is to have a good heart.  Really?
            John tells us in his first epistle, Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth (1John 3:18); and For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome (1John 5:3).  He adds in his second epistle, And this is love, that we walk according to his commandments; this is the commandment, just as you have heard from the beginning, so that you should walk in it (2John 1:6).  And where did John ever get such a notion?  ​Whoever has my commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves me. And he who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him (John 14:21).
            I imagine that most of the people reading this will instantly say, "Well, of course."  But there are quite a few out there for whom this is a revelation.  In the so-called Christian world, a good heart is supposed to be the cure for everything, including outright sin.  When we sing this song in our services and some of those people are sitting there next to you, perhaps friends and neighbors you invited, you just might be encouraging them in this false doctrine.  I suppose that if they are people you personally have brought to services you could take them aside afterward and say, "About that song…" and tell them you didn't really mean it that way.  But their first question might be embarrassing.  "You mean you sing things you don't mean?"
            I doubt that anything I say here will change the popularity of this song.  In fact, if we changed the words to something more scriptural, like, "When words are not enough/ to tell you of our love/ watch how we obey," or "Wa-atch how we walk," that would be its death knell.  Who would want to sing something so emotionally unsatisfying?  But maybe the next time it is led in your group you will remember that Jesus told us exactly how to show our love for both him and the Father:  Walk like he walked.  Of course we should obey from the heart, as Paul says in Rom 6:17, and our life of obedience should be sincere, but that is a far cry from pandering to modern emotionalism. 
 
If you love me, you will keep my commandments  (John 14:15).
 
Dene Ward

It had already been a frustrating day.  Our Google Map directions had brought us straight to the town we were visiting, but once we hit the city limits, those directions because increasingly vague.  The street we were to follow suddenly ended and we didn't know which way to turn to find our hotel.
            So we headed down the busy road in the direction that seemed right.  The street changed its name at least three times.  No hotel.  We stopped at a gas station, found a man sitting in his car who was willing to help.  He didn't know the hotel but knew where the street was—or so he thought.  Ten minutes later we pulled into a different hotel and they gave us good directions to their competitor.  Turns out the hotel was off the main drag behind two restaurants on a street with no road sign.  You wonder how they stay in business.
            So then it was time for dinner.  We have a favorite restaurant in that town, but it had been many years and things looked very different.  The desk clerk gladly looked it up and handed us directions.  And once again the street we were looking for was not there.  We wound up at exactly the same gas station.  This time we went inside and none of the workers there knew either the restaurant (it has been there for 50 years!) or the street. Finally, as we walked dejectedly out the door, a young man with a Smart Phone chased us down and looked it up for us.  We weren't far away and the directions were simple.
            Then it was time to return to the hotel.  Based upon our memory of the man's phone map, the restaurant road ran parallel to the one the gas station was on and should have led us right back to the hotel road, coming out even closer to the hotel.  But that road curved every which way and was full of forks and we came out somewhere entirely different—which we did not realize at first because now it was too dark to read straight signs and had begun to rain.  By the time we figured out our error, we were so far out, no one could direct us.  "What road?  Never heard of it."
            Finally someone had heard of it—the fourth one we asked, and we did make it back.  What should have been a ten minute drive had taken over an hour, and we had gone through the gamut of emotions—from frustration to aggravation to desperation.  Fear and hopelessness were just the corner, kept at bay by my stubborn refusal to become a drama queen, whining and blubbering my way into senseless hysteria.
            But it made both of us stop and think about those who are really lost.  What is it like to be out there looking for direction and getting no help at all?  I'm afraid my view of that town will forever more be that none of the roads are straight, they all change names confusingly, and none of its populace has any idea where they themselves are either.
            We all need to be like that young man with the Smart Phone, not only willing to help when asked, but going to the trouble of chasing down someone in obvious need.   There are lost souls out there, people.  Frustrated people, fearful people, desperate people who need our help.  A lot of Christians are so wrapped up in themselves, in their own earthly destinations and goals, that they don't see those who are wandering around, hopelessly lost.  And quite a few of them don't even know where they are either.
            Pay attention today.  Make sure you know where you are first and then be on the lookout for others.
 
I am under obligation both to Greeks and to barbarians, both to the wise and to the foolish. So I am eager to preach the gospel to you… (Rom 1:14-15)
 
Dene Ward        

My mother came from a family of long-lived women.  Her grandmother was well into her 80s when she passed away, and her own mother was 97.  When Mama reached 87 with no signs of stopping, we decided that, due to our own health problems, we needed to move her closer than two hours away so we could care for her as we ought.  But even then, there were issues.  Our home is way out in the country, nearly an hour from her doctors and the hospital.  We have steps she could no longer negotiate and her walker would not even fit through our doors.  Then there is the issue of independence; she wanted to live on her own for as long as she possibly could, and we wanted to honor that wish.
            At first she bought her own little house in the city and managed that for a year and a half.  Then we moved her up a step to an independent living facility.  They provided meals and housekeeping for a nice little apartment as long as she could get back and forth to the dining room and take care of all her other needs.  And ultimately, we had to go the assisted living route.  Gainesville has a couple of very nice ones and she was very happy there until her death last year at the age of 91.
            One thing I noticed, and it was not just those last few years.  No matter where she lived, she managed to find the friendless, the outcasts, the ones who were "different" in some way that meant everyone else ignored or even shunned them, and she befriended them.  (Even in churches, mind you.)  She looked after them.  She defended them.  She made sure they had someone to sit by at meals, talk to during the day, and share their troubles with.  She could tell me more details about the lives of more people than I thought she even knew within two weeks of moving somewhere, and because we were now able to see her three or four times a week, this really became noticeable.
            My mother was a good woman, generous with her time and her talents, given to hospitality, always feeding visitors, college students, and friends.  I was never embarrassed to ask someone from church to spend Sunday afternoon with me, or even a whole weekend.  I knew the food would be plenteous and delicious, and the welcome warm.  If someone needed a home for a wedding or baby shower, she offered, even making and decorating the cake which was always elaborate and creative.  She sewed for people, sometimes just mending, but other times the whole outfit.  Whenever she went shopping, if something caught her eye, it was seldom for herself.  It was always that person or this person "would love that," and she picked it up, usually for no reason at all except she saw it and thought of them.  But once I began to really notice this habit of hers to gravitate to the social misfits, I thought to myself, "This is what it really means to be Christlike."
            What did Isaiah say about the Messiah?   The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; ​to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to grant to those who mourn in Zion— to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he may be glorified. (Isa 61:1-3)
            And whom did Jesus seek out?  Not the wealthy, not the powerful, not the popular, not the "in-crowd," but a bunch of poor, "unlearned" fishermen, the hated publicans, the sinners who lived on the edge of a society that was happy to use and then discard them, a Samaritan woman who herself was an outcast among outcasts, those with demons, those with illnesses which were considered signs of sin.  He gave them a champion who saw them and their pain rather than leaders who considered them beneath their notice.  He fulfilled his mission "...to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, " (Luke 4:18) and "A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not quench, till he send forth judgment unto victory. " (Matt 12:20).
            Today, examine your heart.  Who do you gravitate toward?  Who do you run to and why?  Our Lord actively looked for the outsiders just as we should search for the ones who come in among us and leave quietly because they are so sure no one even cares if they are there at all.  No one should come in among the people of God and feel like that.  What will you do about it today?
 
And Jesus perceiving it withdrew from thence: and many followed him; and he healed them all, and charged them that they should not make him known: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken through Isaiah the prophet, saying, Behold, my servant whom I have chosen; My beloved in whom my soul is well pleased: I will put my Spirit upon him, And he shall declare judgment to the Gentiles. He shall not strive, nor cry aloud; Neither shall any one hear his voice in the streets. A bruised reed shall he not break, And smoking flax shall he not quench, Till he send forth judgment unto victory. And in his name shall the Gentiles hope  (Matt 12:15-21).
 
Dene Ward