My big flower bed on the south side of the shed attracts butterflies by the score.  Every day I see both white and yellow sulfurs, tiny blue hairstreaks, huge brown and yellow swallowtails, and glorious orange monarchs and viceroys flitting from bloom to bloom.  Sometimes it’s hard to tell where the bloom stops and the butterfly begins amid all those big yellow black-eyed Susans, multicolored zinnias, and purple petunias. 
            But have you ever watched a butterfly?  If you and I decided to go somewhere the way a butterfly goes, it would take all day to get there.  We have a saying: “as the crow flies,” meaning a straight line course.  A butterfly couldn’t fly a straight line no matter how hard it tried—it would always fail the state trooper’s sobriety test.
            Some of us live our spiritual lives like butterflies.  We seem to think that waking up in the morning and allowing life to just “happen” is the way to go.  No wonder we don’t grow.  No wonder we fail again and again at the same temptations.  No wonder we don’t know more about the Word of God this year than last, and no wonder we can’t stand the trials of faith.
            Some folks think that going to church is the plan.  That’s why their neighbors would be surprised to find out they are Christians—Sunday is their only day of service.  Others refuse to acknowledge any weakness they need to work on.  It rankles their pride to admit they need to improve on anything, and because they won’t admit anything specific, they never do improve. 
            Some folks make their life decisions with no consideration at all for their spiritual health, or the good of the kingdom.  The stuff of this life matters the most, and only after that do they give the spiritual a thought, if at all, and it is to be dismissed if it means anything untoward for their physical comfort, convenience, status, or wealth. 
            The only plan they have for their children is their physical welfare—how they will do in school, where they will go to college, what career they will pursue.  They must get their schoolwork, but their parents don’t even know what they are studying in Bible classes, much less make sure they get their lessons.  It’s too much trouble to take them to spiritual gatherings of other young Christians.  And have you seen how much those camps cost?!  Probably less than a year’s worth of cell phone service and much less than the car they buy those same kids. 
            Where is the plan for this family’s spiritual growth?  Where is their devotion to a God they claim as Lord?  If their children do end up faithful, it will be in spite of these parents, not because of them.
            God expects us to have a plan.  The writer of the seventeenth psalm had one.  “I have purposed that my mouth will not transgress,” he says in verse 3, and then later, “I have avoided the ways of the violent, my steps have held fast to your paths,” (4b,5a).  He made a vow and he kept it.  He mapped his life out to stay away from evil and on the road to his Father.
            How are you doing as you fly through life—and it does fly, people!  Are you flitting here and there, around one bush and over another, out of the flower bed entirely once in awhile, then back in for a quick sip of nectar before heading off in whichever direction the wind blows?  Or do you have a plan, a map to get you past the pitfalls with as little danger as possible, to the necessary stops for revival and refreshing, but then straight back on the road to your next life?
            Do you know what the term social butterfly means?  It’s someone who flits from group to group.  Perhaps not so much now, but originally the term was one of ridicule.  I wonder what God would think of a spiritual butterfly who has no focus on the spiritual things of this life, but flits from one thing to other and always on a carnal whim rather than a spiritual one.  I wonder if He would decide that butterfly wouldn’t be able to appreciate an eternity of spiritual things either.

…And [Barnabas] exhorted them all to remain faithful to the Lord with steadfast purpose, for he was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and of faith...  Acts 11:23,24.
 
Dene Ward

I understand that the term “Southernism” refers to a trait of language or behavior that is characteristic of the South or Southerners.  I have a cookbook, Cooking Across the South compiled by Lillian Marshall, which extrapolates that definition to include certain Southern recipes, particularly older recipes.  She includes in that list things like hominy, frocking, poke sallet, and tomato gravy.  If you are from north of the Mason-Dixon Line, I am sure you are scratching your head at some of those things, wondering just what in the world they are besides strange.
            In the same vein, I wondered if we could stretch that idea to something we might call “Christianisms,” things a Christian would do that might seem peculiar to someone who isn’t one.  Like never using what the world now calls “colorful language;” like remaining calm and civil when someone mistreats you, doing, in fact, something nice for them; like not cheating on your taxes; like giving back the change that a cashier overpays you; like paying attention to the speed limit and other laws of the land even if there is not a trooper behind you; like cooking or cleaning house for an invalid; like making time for the worship on Sunday morning and arriving at the ball game late even if those tickets did cost a small fortune; like being careful of the clothing you choose to wear; like choosing not to see certain movies or watch certain television shows; like thinking that spending time with other Christians is far more enjoyable than things like “clubbing;” —these are my idea of Christianisms.  I am sure you could add more to the list.
            In the cookbook, I must admit, are many things I have never heard of, despite being a born and bred Southerner—frocking, for one.  You see I came along at a time when the South was starting to change, especially my part of it.  Disney changed everything.  Orlando used to be a one-horse town instead of the metropolis it has become.  I actually learned how to drive in Tampa on what is now I-275.  Can you imagine letting a first timer do that?  My part of the South has become less “southern” as the years have passed.  So, while I had roots in the traditions of the Deep South, I have lost familiarity with many of them.
            Wouldn’t it be a shame if we got to that point with “Christianisms?”  When you read that list I made, did you stop somewhere along the line and say, “Huh? Why would anyone do that?”  Have we allowed the “worldisms” to take the place of concepts and behaviors that ought to be second nature to us?  Can we even compose a list of things that make us different or have we become assimilated?
            Try making a list of the “Christianisms” in your life today.  Make sure you can come up with some, and if not, maybe it’s time to make a few changes.
 
Do all things without grumbling or questioning, that you may be blameless and innocent,  children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation,  among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the word of life…Phil 2:14-16a.
 
Dene Ward

Have you ever seen a catbird take a bath?  I'll take that as a no, the looks I am imagining on your faces, that is.
            First let me introduce you.  He's a sleek, handsome fellow, slate gray, about 8 or 9 inches long.  A black cap perches on the crown of his head and down the back of his head, almost like a cropped mane.  His long tail has a rusty spot beneath it.  His lady friend looks the same, and they both mew like a cat, hence, the name.
            When this fellow decides he needs a bath, he plops himself into one of the water pans I put on top of the feeder posts.  Because of his size, he does better in the larger one, but I have also seen him in the one that is a good 3 inches smaller in diameter.  As large as he is, it's a wonder he doesn't fall out.  At first, he gives a little splash, then stops and looks around.  Then another splash.  Then another.  Finally, he begins in earnest, splashing so hard that the birds beneath him on the feeder get a shower while they eat.  Any sitting on the edge of the water pan run for cover.  Still he splashes.  As you watch from my seat in the house, it becomes impossible to see the bird for the amount of water splashing around him, and I know I will have to refill the pans immediately after he leaves.
            And then he stops.  You can almost see his little heart beating in that dark gray chest as he pants in recovery.  And he is soaking wet.  His feathers are plastered and dark against him, his black cap mussed and plastered as well.  When this bird has finished bathing, there is no doubt at all what he has been doing.  He is as wet as if he had immersed himself, even though the water was only a couple inches deep.
            That is exactly the way we need to immerse ourselves in our Christianity.  Going to church once a week won't do it.  Paying lip service to God won't do it.  We are expected to fill up on the Word every chance we get, talk about it, think about, study it, and espouse it when we can.  It should be second nature to mention God in our lives no matter who we are talking to.  We should be using our assemblies and other church functions as our excuse to miss worldly events, not the other way around.  In fact, we should be looking for other occasions to get together with Christians to study together and encourage one another.  That's what it means to be a disciple of Christ and a servant of the Lord.  That is the very definition of those words.  I should be so immersed in the Lord and His Word that I look as wet as a catbird to my friends, neighbors, and co-workers.  There should be no question in their minds exactly who I am because I not only claim it, I live it.  Always.
            Once upon a time you were immersed for the remission of your sins.  Now it's time for another immersion.  Do you need a bath today?
 
I have asked one thing from the LORD; it is what I desire: to dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, gazing on the beauty of the LORD and seeking Him in His temple.  (Ps 27:4).
 
Dene Ward

Over to the east side of the playing field, that portion of our property that we have kept open for baseball games, football passes, croquet set-ups and the like, stands a homemade trellis covered with climbing roses.  We have the old traditional deep red Climbing Blaze, a red-orange Blaze of Glory with blooms half again the size of the Blaze, and a yellow one whose name I have forgotten.  We picked it up at the nursery section of a home improvement store solely because its blooms were the largest I had ever seen on a climber, at least three times the size of the Blaze.
              About that yellow one—the blooms may be huge, but they are few and far between.  I doubt we get more than a dozen a year.  And they are here and gone in a flash.  You will see a bud one day, a beautiful rose the second, an overblown flower the third, and an empty limb the fourth.  Then you might wait two weeks for the next one.  Rarely will we have two yellow blooms at the same time.
              However, the first winter, Keith did not prune it exactly right, and one morning the following spring we found both a yellow and a red bloom on the same bush.  Because of his "poor" pruning job, the rootstock had put out limbs and they had bloomed too.  Those were almost the same red as the Climbing Blaze, but just a bit smaller.  So now we have four colors on three plants, ranging in size from a half dollar to a teacup.  Needless to say, we have not corrected our "mistake."
              This past April those rootstock limbs really took off.  Each five or six foot arc was covered with buds all down its length, opening at intervals so that we had a huge length of red blooms for weeks.  And these little guys last awhile—no here today, gone tomorrow for them.
              From a few feet away all you see is red, but when you step closer you begin to see the individual blooms.  Some are still buds, dark green with a tiny line of red where it will eventually open.  Some have just begun to do so, the green sepal having fallen back, but the red still folded into itself.  Some are the perfect rose, just barely open into a full bloom with intricate folds of red velvet.  Then you see the older blooms, open as wide as possible, yellow pollen showing in the middle, surrounded by a paler, almost white ring.
              Even at the same stage the blooms show differences.  Some are larger, some smaller.  Some have more petals, others fewer.  Some have petals with black "lace" around the edges—perhaps a blight of some kind.  Some are slightly malformed, opening only on one side while the other never opens at all.  But every one of them does what a rose is supposed to do, what God made it for—blooming to the best of its ability.
              That's all God expects of us, too.  In whatever condition you are, serve Him the best you can.  Even that may change due to health or age, but that doesn't give you a pass.  Some of the people who have helped me the most were the older brothers and sisters I visited, hoping to encourage them, and yet found myself encouraged as much or more by them.  People who deal with pain every day, who have trials and ordeals most of us have only read about and come through it with their faith intact and an optimistic view of their destiny, which they pass on to others through sheer enthusiasm.  They are the greatest proof that there is absolutely no excuse for sitting idle in God's kingdom.
              "But I am doing my best," so many will say to assuage their guilty feelings.  Fine.  Just understand this:  God is the one who decides what your best is, not you.  Just as his lord judged harshly the one talent man who buried his in the ground because the risks otherwise scared him, our Lord will judge harshly the one who gave up just because things got tough. 
              The Lord's kingdom is a climbing rose covered with bloom after bloom.  None of them is perfect and some look far better than others in men's eyes, but in God's eyes, the bud that blooms its head off regardless its condition, is the most beautiful one of all.
 
As for man, his days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field; for the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more. But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children's children,  (Ps 103:15-17).

Dene Ward

We have had a cat more often than not in the past twenty years.  All of them were pretty good about doing their work, as most barn cats are—it comes naturally to them to keep the rodents out of the feed sacks.  But because they are outdoor cats, they do not have quite the same affinity for human contact as house cats.  In fact, it seems that the less they have to do with us, the better they do their job.
            So when it comes time to take this sort of cat to the vet for its shots and check-ups, the process is a real adventure.  I remember once, when we put the cat in a box we had carefully aerated, drove 20 miles to the vet, opened the box and there was no cat.  We drove back home and found her sitting on the steps, licking her paws, and looking at us with a look of disdain.  “Where have you been?” she seemed to be saying with a smirk.  We still don’t know how she got out.  Her name was Jezebel.  Maybe that explains it.
            When we got Jasper we invested in a carrier.  The first time I used it, I discovered that this was still not going to be easy.  I sat on the porch and called him.  He inched his way forward and I just held out my hand until he finally relaxed and let me pet him.  After a minute or so, I picked him up and tried to put him in the crate. Immediately, all four sets of claws sprang out and grasped the edges of the opening.  It looked like a cartoon as I tried pushing him in while he hung on to the doorframe for dear life.  No way was this cat going in there willingly.
            Then I got smart, I thought, and put some food in the carrier.  Jasper smelled it immediately, and stuck his head inside.  I waited patiently as more and more of him disappeared into the box, then quickly shut the door; but somehow in that tiny space, he managed to turn around and slip out before I could get the clasp fastened. 
            By then, he was getting suspicious.  He was too leery to even come near me, so I waited a bit.  About a half hour later I grabbed a towel and laid it on the porch floor next to me.  By then, he was feeling generous again and sauntered up to me for a scratch.  After a few minutes, he lay next to me on the towel.  With a quick motion, I flipped the towel over his whole body and dumped him unceremoniously into the upended carrier,  The little bit of time it took for him to get his claws out of the towel gave me enough time to shut the door without him escaping.  Finally we went to the vet.
            Wouldn’t you know it, when we got to the vet, he wouldn’t come out of the carrier?  The vet had to dump him out.  And when she was finished with him and let him go, he scrambled back in as fast as he could.  Little stinker.
            In spite of his unwillingness to go to the vet, it kept him healthy.  The shots still worked, even though he really didn’t want them.  It doesn’t work that way with righteousness.  You can do things that look like righteousness all day long, but if you are doing them from a bad heart, they won’t do a thing for your soul.
            We seem to have a mistaken idea about the Old Law, that all they had to do were “right things,” and that their hearts did not matter.  Yet over and over you find instances where the heart most certainly did matter.  Take from among you an offering unto Jehovah; whosoever is of a willing heart, let him bring it, Ex 35:5.  That is just one example among many.
            Doesn’t it mean more to you that Lord offered himself for us willingly?  No one takes [my life] away from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. John 10:18.  How much would it mean in terms of love if he had done it because he was forced to? 
            That is how God looks at us too.  How much more does it mean to you when your child brings you a wildflower he picked in the field “just because” than when he sends that expensive arrangement on Mother’s Day, a day when the world practically forces it on him?  A buttercup on a Tuesday is far superior to a dozen roses the second Sunday in May.
            God will not force us to obey him, much less love him.  He has never accepted the letter of the law without the heart.
 
And you, Solomon my son, know the God of your father and serve him with a whole heart and with a willing mind, for the LORD searches all hearts and understands every plan and thought.  If you seek him, he will be found by you, but if you forsake him, he will cast you off forever, 1 Chron 28:9.
 
Dene Ward

“Who can deny Robert Gundry’s assertion that the evangelical enterprise has become worldly, that materialism grips the church, that pleasure-seeking dominates us, that evangelicals watch sensuality and violence like everyone else, that immodesty is de jure, that voyeurism and pornography and sexual laxity and divorce are on the rise, and that we, like Lot, could find that Sodom has been born anew in our own homes. God help us if while decrying sin, we are sprinting headlong after it. We must lay this to heart: A worldly church cannot and will not reach the world. The church must be distinct from the world to reach the world.  We must set ourselves apart to God if we hope to reach the world.”
Hughes, R. Kent. Set Apart: Calling a Worldly Church to a Godly Life. Crossway. Kindle Edition.

"For the time that is past suffices for doing what the Gentiles want to do, living in sensuality, passions, drunkenness, orgies, drinking parties, and lawless idolatry. With respect to this they are surprised when you do not join them in the same flood of debauchery, and they malign you; but they will give account to him who is ready to judge the living and the dead. For this is why the gospel was preached even to those who are dead, that though judged in the flesh the way people are, they might live in the spirit the way God does. " (1Pet 4:3-6).

Our late winter/early spring gardening chores include pruning.  Pruning is serious business.  If you do it at the wrong time and in the wrong way, you can kill a plant.  But correct pruning encourages healthy growth, more flowering, heavier fruit yields, and in general, better looking plants.  Correct pruning can also scare you to death.
              If Keith had not had an experienced friend show him how to prune the grapes, he would never have done it correctly.  Light pruning does not promote fruiting on grape vines.  It takes a heavy-handed pruner, one who knows exactly how far down which vines to cut—and it is much farther than you would ever expect—to make vines that in the late summer provide both greater quantity and quality of grapes. 
              Roses also benefit from good pruning.  Every January or February (remember that we are talking here in Florida before you follow this to the letter) you should cut off 1/3 to ½ of the mature canes, plus all dead or dying branches, as well as those that cross or stray out of the general shape of the bush.  That is how you get more flowers and larger blooms, and healthier, prettier bushes altogether.
              God believes in pruning too.  John 15 is full of the imagery of pruning grape vines, cutting off those that no longer produce and throwing them into the fire, which just happens to be where we throw all our prunings as well.  God has done a lot of pruning throughout history.
              The wilderness wandering was nothing but one big pruning exercise.  All the faithless, those men of war responsible for the decision not to take the land, had to die, and a new generation be prepared.  Do you realize that if you only count those men, on average throughout those forty years, 40 men died every day?  That does not count the people who died of accident, disease and childbirth, and the women and priests who simply died of old age.  Every morning the first thing on one’s mind must have been, “Who died yesterday?”  Those people must have done nothing but bury the dead every single day for forty years.  No wonder they moved so often.
              Then there was the Babylonian captivity.  Ezekiel worked for seventy years preparing the next generation to return to the land as a righteous remnant while the older one died off.  Pruning made them better, stronger, and more able to endure those months of rebuilding, and the years that followed.
              And what else was it but pruning that made God cut off some branches (Jews) and graft in others (Gentiles)?  They were broken off because of their unbelief, Paul says in Rom 11:20, and then goes on to say that if God will prune the natural branches, he will certainly prune those that had been grafted in if their faith fails.
              God still prunes.  We tend to call it by other metaphors these days—refining our faith as gold, Peter says in one of those passages.  “Discipline” the Hebrew writer calls it, adding that the Lord only chastens those he loves.  But all these figures mean the same thing.  Pruning can be painful.  The best pruning shears are the sharp ones, for the wound will heal more quickly the cleaner the cut. 
              We carry a lot of deadwood on us that God has to whittle away through the trials and experiences of life, and with our own growth in the knowledge of the Word as we learn what is and is not acceptable to God.  It is up to us to use that pruning, shedding the dead wood and cultivating new growth, bearing more fruit, higher quality fruit, and more beautiful blooms.  If I am not growing, I can expect nothing more than my whole vine to be cut off and cast into the fire. 
              We want to be that productive grape vine with fruit so heavy and juicy we almost break from the sheer weight of it.  We want to be the rose that brings the oohs and aahs, whose perfume wafts on the breeze to all those around us.  We must submit to the pruning of the Master Gardener, glorying in His work in us, no matter how painful, so that we can “prove to be his disciples,” John 15:8, faithful to the end.
 
Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit, John 15:2.
 
Dene Ward

Monday morning I was outside for a good while, exercising Chloe, feeding the birds, pruning some dormant perennials in hopes of a good summer’s bloom.  While I puttered around, my mind wandered here and there, but eventually stayed on an idea for a devotional.  By the time I finished I had the thing half-written in my head, a good introduction, a nice outline, and even a punchy ending.  But I came in needing to study for my Tuesday morning class, a study that took nearly three arduous hours and left my brain frazzled, my neck aching from poring over the books and papers, and my eyes needing to do something besides focus so intently.
            The next day I spent in town, our usual one day a week of Bible class and all the stops we need to do at once to save the gas required for more than one sixty mile round trip.  Then Wednesday we left early for a dentist appointment that was one of the worst ever, leaving me fit for nothing but going to bed with a pain pill.  Then Thursday we had more appointments and by the time I sat down on Thursday night to type, my half written devotional was nothing but a vague memory in the back of my mind.  I sat for nearly half an hour trying to grab onto it as it floated just out of reach.  Finally I gave up and here I sit without that wonderful piece I was so excited about.
            I know this forgetting thing happens to you too.  Do you know how frustrating it is to teach something in a class, then six months later when it comes up in a sermon by a visiting preacher you can hardly get your next class started because everyone is so excited about this new truth they "just heard" the past Sunday morning?  I find myself sitting there thinking, “Where was your mind when we did this six months ago?”
            Keith feels the same frustration when he un-teaches a faulty concept that many have grown up with, watching the light bulbs go on one by one, only to have those same people repeat that faulty concept yet again the next time that passage comes up.  Yes, it happens to all of us—we forget what we have learned all too easily.
            Do you know how to avoid that?  I keep a notebook handy to jot down ideas that come up in my head when I don’t have time to sit down then and write.  The problem last Monday was not getting inside as quickly as usual and so forgetting to even put the idea in my notebook. 
            Learning involves some work.  I just sat through a wonderful class on a prophetic book I have never studied before, and never heard taught in any church anywhere.  What amazed me was the fact that only two of us were even bothering to take notes.  How much do you think the others remember now, several months later? 
            Come let us reason together…God says to His people in Isa 1:18.  That Hebrew word also means argue, convince, correct, dispute, judge, and many other words that involve thinking.  God will not listen to anyone try to argue, dispute, or convince Him of anything if that person has no clue what he is talking about.  I will be that clueless one if I do not study the Word of God and meditate (think) on it.  I will be equally clueless six months later if I have done nothing to help myself remember what I have learned.  I certainly won’t get it by osmosis from the pew I am sitting on or by an airborne germ just because I am sitting in the building where it was taught.
            Rene Descartes was the French philosopher who came up with this famous notion:  I think, therefore I am.  The guy did a whole lot of thinking his whole life long, but on February 11, 1650, he stopped thinking.  He died.  At least he had that excuse.  What’s yours?
 
And count the patience of our Lord as salvation, just as our beloved brother Paul also wrote to you according to the wisdom given him, as he does in all his letters when he speaks in them of these matters. There are some things in them that are hard to understand, which the ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction, as they do the other Scriptures. You therefore, beloved, knowing this beforehand, take care that you are not carried away with the error of lawless people and lose your own stability. But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be the glory both now and to the day of eternity. Amen, 2 Pet 3:15-18.
 
Dene Ward

I have heard it all my life and never noticed the problem until recently.  “Do one good deed every day.”  How many New Year’s resolutions have you heard that include that phrase?  How many times have you heard people talk about trying to better themselves by doing “one good deed every day?”  How many speak as if they are proud of that very accomplishment?
            Then it struck me.  One good deed a day?  That is supposed to make me a good person?  One?  Hey!  If I get it done by 8 or 9 in the morning, I don’t have to worry about another one, right?  If I do 5 today, I can take the rest of the week off.  I’m not expected to work on the weekends surely. Something is terribly wrong if we think doing one good deed a day is a wonderful accomplishment for a Christian.
            Depart from evil, and do good; Seek peace, and pursue it. Psalm 34:14
            Trust in Jehovah, and do good…Depart from evil, and do good; Psalm 37:3,27.
            I know that there is nothing better for them, than to rejoice, and to do good so long as they live. Eccl 3:12.
            But I say unto you that hear, Love your enemies, do good to them that hate you, Luke 6:27.
            But to do good and to communicate forget not: for with such sacrifices God is well pleased, Heb 13:16.   
              And let us not be weary in well-doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. So then, as we have opportunity, let us work that which is good toward all men, and especially toward them that are of the household of the faith. Gal 6:9,10.
            Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor that which is evil; cleave to that which is good. In love of the brethren be tenderly affectioned one to another; in honor preferring one another; communicating to the necessities of the saints; given to hospitality. Bless them that persecute you; bless, and curse not. Rejoice with them that rejoice; weep with them that weep. Be of the same mind one toward another. Render to no man evil for evil. Take thought for things honorable in the sight of all men. If it be possible, as much as in you lies, be at peace with all men. Avenge not yourselves, beloved, but give place unto the wrath of God: for it is written, Vengeance belongs unto me; I will recompense, says the Lord. But if your enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him to drink: for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head.  Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good. Rom 12:9-10, 13-21. 
            Do I really think I can overcome evil with one good deed a day?
            Christians don’t work by the quota system.  They know they should be looking for good things to do, as well as reacting in good ways to things done to them, all day long, every day.  Yet even that is not enough to repay the debt we owe for our forgiveness. 
            I think we need to stop counting.
 
Dene Ward

It was late in the day and still the noise surrounded us.  The elevator dinging, the telephones chirping, the call buttons issuing a strident claxon, the IV pole beeping, the whooshes from the suction wand, the roaring wheels of the food carts, even the dimmer wail of the sirens as ambulances rolled in beneath us to the emergency room—and this is where we are supposed to relax and recuperate, I wondered?  Since when is a hospital a place of rest?  At least hospice, where my mother was ultimately moved, was quiet and peaceful.

              Our culture is a noisy one.  I have had people tell me they leave the television on for company, so there is always noise in the background.  Maybe because I live in the country I find that utterly confounding.  Yet this morning as I sat by the fire pit with a final cup of morning coffee I found myself thinking that it certainly isn't as quiet as thirty-five years ago, when cows lowing, donkeys braying, roosters crowing, woodpeckers tapping for food in the live oaks, and wrens singing their little heads off were the loudest things for miles around. 

              Rest.  God promised His people rest—from their enemies, from the toil of slavery, from the worries of life, if they would only keep their covenant with Him.  But what did they prefer?  The hoopla and noise of idolatry and all its attendant debauchery.  A peaceful life with their God was boring, I suppose.  It certainly did not offer the physical thrill of sin and the emotional high of a pagan festival.  What did He have to say about that? 

              Thus says the LORD: “Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls. But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’ ​I set watchmen over you, saying, ‘Pay attention to the sound of the trumpet!’ But they said, ‘We will not pay attention.’ Therefore hear, O nations, and know, O congregation, what will happen to them. Hear, O earth; behold, I am bringing disaster upon this people, the fruit of their devices, because they have not paid attention to my words; and as for my law, they have rejected it. " (Jer 6:16-19).  Too late they learned the value of a peaceful and quiet life with God, led by His Word and following His Law. 

               The Devil cultivates our desire for excitement and stimulation.  He fills our ears with his noise until we can no longer tolerate the serenity of spiritual satisfaction and peace with God.  Busyness becomes a status symbol.  We fill our children's minds with "cultural enrichment" and run ourselves ragged trying to outdo one another in our bustling around.  We go and go and go and talk and talk and talk until we have no time at all to sit still and simply meditate on God and His place in our lives—which ultimately becomes no place at all.

               Be silent before the Lord GOD! For the day of the LORD is near… {Zeph 1:7).  That's what happens when we become too busy and too loud to notice God.  It was spoken to a people who would soon be destroyed because they would not be quiet long enough to listen. 

              Far better to learn the lesson the psalmist teaches:  ​“Be still, and know that I am God…”  (Ps 46:10).

              Far better to realize that rest is not a punishment but a reward, a reward for those who have been busy, not with loud self-serving sin, but with the quiet work of the Lord, serving Him by serving others, in a place where we can truly rest and recuperate from all of our trials.
 
​Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”  (Matt 11:28-30)
 
Dene Ward