In the book, Messy Bessy is a brown-haired, pigtailed cutie--until you look closer.  She is leaning over her plate at the table, both arms splayed out, cramming food in her mouth two-fistedly.  Her cheeks are smeared and the table is strewn with food. 
 
             It's one thing for a one year old to end up with half his meal on his cheeks.  I have a cute picture of Lucas after his first plate of spaghetti.  He is red from fingertips to shoulders, and ear to ear.  The only reason it wasn't worse is that I had the sense to tie, not a bib, but one of my kitchen aprons around his neck.  But by the time he was Bessy's age, he could eat neatly, if still voraciously.

              It is an absolute shame that we need to mention grown up Messy Bessys in the church, but they are there.  Have you ever looked at a theater floor after a movie, or the grandstand after a ball game?  Spilled drinks, scattered popcorn, empty boxes, sunflower seed hulls, and a few things I hate to even ask about lie there for the cleaning crew to take care of.  Unfortunately, some church meetinghouses look nearly as bad.  All sorts of papers litter the pews from lesson sheets to bulletins to candy wrappers, cough drop wrappers, cookie and cracker crumbs, and spilled Cheerios.  The bathrooms aren't much better, with soiled paper towels thrown everywhere but the trash can, toilets unflushed, and water dripping off the counters. 

              No one should have to clean up my mess but me.  A mature adult knows that.  What kind of impression are we leaving on visitors?  And just what do we think we are teaching our children?  Where is the spirit of "Lord, Make Me a Servant" that we sing so sincerely?  No, we expect some other servant somewhere to come in and pick up after us the way our Mama used to.  Do we still need her to tag along?

               And what does grown up Messy Bessy do?  She still has little concern for how the church looks to outsiders.  She will trash it with her complaints about how it is run, with the slander she spreads about her brothers and sisters, and with her ridicule of the preacher and his work.  She will spread its dirty laundry for all to see, even that which has been cleaned "white as snow" by the Lord through repentance.  Then when none of her friends are interested in coming to church with her, she is ready to accuse them of a lack of spirituality. 

            All of the things we have talked about in this series may start with a simple childhood fault, but every one of them has led to something far more sinister spiritually.  If I cannot keep my space neat literally, what will happen to my heart?  If the first comes from a don't-care attitude and a lack of personal responsibility, so will the second—a mess of a life that breaks hearts and ruins souls.
             
              Clean up your act, Bessy.  Grow up and be accountable.
 
Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person. (Col 4:5-6)
and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, so that you may walk properly before outsiders…(1Thess 4:11-12).
 
Dene Ward
 

My grandniece has Spinal Muscular Atrophy Type 1.  SMA1 is a disease that causes progressive loss of motor neurons, leading to muscle weakness and atrophy.  Type 1 usually shows in babies 6 months and under.  The infants will have difficulty moving, eating, breathing, and swallowing.  They will be unable to lift their heads on their own and unable to sit up on their own.  Most victims of this disease do not survive past age 2 due to respiratory failure.  Abigail has already survived the odds, having turned four this year, but her life is not an easy one.
 
             Abigail must often be rushed to the hospital.  Even a simple cold could be the end.  She recently gave us a fright as she was once again loaded into an ambulance and carted off first to an ER and then a PICU.  Abigail takes it all in stride, and today she is going to teach us a lesson we all need to hear. 

              My niece, Abigail's mother, recently posted the following on Facebook:

             "Abigail's full name is Abigail Andreia (on-DRAY-uh) Saltz.
          [Her father] was very partial to "Abigail," and I...was not. He always wanted purely Biblical names for our children and I told him we could use Abigail IF he could think of a middle name that had three syllables, accent on the second syllable. He stretched his Biblical names rule by choosing a Greek word for her middle name meaning "brave," because it seemed a fitting descriptor for the queen we were naming her after and an admirable quality to live up to.
              Wow. The things you don't know.
            I have told Abigail what her middle name means so many times now that she thinks her *actual name* is Abigail Andreia Brave Saltz. When she has to do something scary she says, 'Gimme a minute. I' takin' away da Andreia and da Saltz so all I have is da Brave. Brave means being still even when you're scared.'
             Today the IV techs marveled at how still she was while putting in her IV.
           And this is what people mean when they say their children teach them far more than they teach their children."

              Abigail has always been the happiest child I have ever known.  I always suspected she was brave—children who have physical difficulties often are because of the things they experience from early on.  Now I know exactly how she does it.  She "takes away" the names that might be in the way so she can make use of the name that counts--Brave.
 
             Can I ask you this morning, what names do you need to take away?  The only name that should count for you is Christian—a child of God, a disciple of Christ.  That name will give you strength when temptations arise.  It will give you peace and contentment when you don't understand.  It will give you courage and steadfastness when trials beset your soul. 

            And why is that?  Because through that name we have life (John 20:31), we have hope (Matt 12:21), we have justification (1 Cor 6:11), we have remission of sins (Acts 10:43) and salvation (Acts 4:12).  We also have absolutely no excuse for failure because the one who wore that name left the example for us to follow, and said it was possible to do so.

              Four year old Abigail knows the power of a name.  Remember the name you wear.  Take away all the others and use that one to be faithful to the end.
 
Let them praise your great and awesome name! Holy is he! (Ps 99:3).

Dene Ward
 

In the book, Me-First Millie looks a whole lot like That's-Mine-Thelma (part 2), and indeed, they have the same basic problem:  selfishness.  She is also a bit like Look-at-Me-Louie (part 1).  But Millie's problem tends to show itself in slightly different ways.

              Grown-up Millie not only wants attention, she wants the most attention.  She must be first on the list.  No one's issues are as important as hers. 

              She will insinuate herself and her woes into every conversation.  If you have never discussed someone who desperately needed help for a dire problem only to have Millie interrupt you to tell you that she needed it too, you have been blessed.  If you have had a disease, she has had it worse.  If you had a major surgery, she not only had it, but also had all the complications known to man.  Whatever happened to you, it happened to her worse or better, depending upon the discussion.

              This selfishness shows in other more mundane ways too.  Millie thinks that her schedule is the only schedule that matters.  She is late to everything, every time, everywhere.  Then she cannot understand why people who have had to sit and wait on her for upwards of a half hour become aggravated about it.  She has stolen their time, but for some reason she thinks that is her prerogative.

              Millie will sit at home and wait to be served.  Even if she is perfectly healthy, there is some reason she must be checked on—again and again and again.  Millie not only believes that she deserves everyone's service, she will even dare to tell you exactly how she wants it ministered if it is to please her.  We once had a family move into the area where we lived at the time, who called the church building in order to inform the local brethren when they would arrive, how many people they needed to help them unload, and exactly when they wanted it done.  Oh yes, and someone might also bring some lunch for everyone that day too!  It is one thing to ask if help might possibly be available; it's quite another to demand it

            Millie is exactly the opposite of Lydia.   When that great lady was converted to the Lord, the first thing she said to Paul and Silas was, "If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come to my house and stay" Acts 16:15.  She knew instinctively that being a disciple of the Suffering Servant meant serving others instead of expecting them to serve her. 

             And when we all have that attitude, no one does without.
 
Show hospitality to one another without grumbling.  As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace: whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies—in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.  1 Pet 4:9-11
 
Dene Ward

Keith got a reprieve yesterday—I woke up with laryngitis.  A deaf man and a woman barely able to utter a whisper do not make a compatible couple.  We struggled through the evening after he came home from work.  He would ask a question then walk away until I finally threw something at him to get his attention so he could read my lips as I answered.  We would sit at the table together and I would talk without first making eye contact—I had to throw something at him then too.  You get the picture.  Most of the time a pillow or napkin was within reach, otherwise we might have had a real mess to clean up.

            Our biggest problems in life are usually caused by speaking when we should have been quiet.  On the other hand, there are times we should speak that we do not, times we get a case of spiritual laryngitis.  The more I think about it, the more I realize that my only motivation for having kept quiet at those times was fear.

            We preach to our young people about peer pressure, encouraging them to speak up about friends doing wrong, about believing unpopular beliefs, or to simply stand up for those everyone else is picking on as if these were easy things to do.  Do we do any better when certain subjects arise among our own peers?  Is it so easy to risk losing a friend, losing a sale, losing status in the community, losing the good opinion of people we want to impress?  No, we don’t do any better most of the time.  We are just as afraid to speak out as our children are.

            The thing we need to convince our young people of—and ourselves—is that we are afraid of the wrong thing.  With knowledge comes responsibility. 

            If I see you about to do something I know will hurt you and do not say anything, I am guilty of hurting you as much as if I did that hurtful thing to you myself. If I say to the wicked,  'You shall surely die,'  and you give him no warning,  nor speak to warn the wicked from his wicked way, in order to save his life,  that wicked person shall die for his iniquity, but his blood I will require at your hand. Ezek 3:18.

            If I fail to tell others that I am a Christian, if, like Peter during Jesus’ trial, I am afraid of the consequences that might bring me, I have denied my Lord,  Every one therefore who shall confess me before men, him will I also confess before my Father who is in heaven. But whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father who is in heaven, Matt 10:32,33.

            If I see a wrong and fail to speak out, I am nothing more than a coward.  I have become a friend of the unjust man rather than a champion of his victim, and will be included in his curse.  (Prov 29:24.)

            Truly, fear gives you spiritual laryngitis.  It totally disables you.  You become useless to the Lord.  That is the thing you should fear more than anything else. 
 
What I tell you in the darkness, speak it in the light; and what you hear in the ear, proclaim upon the house-tops. And be not afraid of those who kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell, Matt 10:27, 28.
 
Dene Ward

Do you spend any time visiting people? Jesus gave a sobering scene of the final judgment in Matthew 25. One good trait commended in that passage is, visiting disciples in need. One cause of judgment against the wicked is, “you did not visit Me” (Matt. 25:43). One of the steps Moses took toward his usefulness as a servant of God was, “it came into his heart to visit his brethren,” (Acts 7:23). In our modern fast-paced time, we easily neglect this simple duty. Or, we assume somebody else will do it (like “the preacher”). How much time do you spend visiting people and providing for their greatest needs?

Warren Berkley, berksblog, May 20, 2019

Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world (Jas 1:27).

When my boys were small, I bought them a book with the above title.  It was written by Ruth Shannon Odor and has the format of a Little Golden Book, including the gold spine.  However, it is called a "Happy Day" book, put out by Standard Publishing of Cincinnati.  The illustrations, drawn by Robert Burchett, are colorful, a bit cartoonish, perfect for a child.
 
             The book begins with the usual manners we all try to teach our children, but divides them as to location—home, playground, school, and most interesting to me, church!  By the end you realize that the point of the whole book is that when you try to be like Jesus, you will be courteous and considerate of others.  In short, you will have good manners!

              My boys loved that book.  I occasionally took it to the children's Bible classes I taught and they loved it too.  And now I have introduced it to my grandsons and they love it.  And all of this is in spite of the fact that they occasionally see themselves in the book and hang their little heads in embarrassment.

              I think its appeal might be the characters that are included:
              Me-First Millie
              Sulky Sue
              Look-at-Me Louie
              That's Mine Thelma
              Picky Pete
              Messy Bessy, and a few others.

              All come with pictures to match.  Over the years, my own boys were apt to look at one another and say, "Now don't be a Look-at-Me Louie!" or some other of the characters.

              I thought it might be interesting over the next few weeks, on Mondays as often as I can manage it, to see what kind of people some of these characters might have grown up to be, if they were real.  And oh yes, they are real.  We run into them every day, and sadly, even among our brethren.  We might ourselves still be clinging to childish ways without realizing it.  But this is important for, as the book concludes:

              "Jesus taught us to be  kind, to love others, to treat others as we would  like to be treated…If we try to be like Jesus in all we say and do, then good manners will be as easy as 1-2-3, A-B-C."
 
Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.  Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. (Phil 2:3-4)
 
Dene Ward
 

On August 3, 1970, Mairiam Hargrave of Yorkshire, England passed her driving test.  So? you ask.  You passed yours too, I bet, and didn’t even consider it important enough to remember the date.  Why in the world would anyone remember someone else’s?  Because Mairiam passed her test on her fortieth try, that’s why. 
 
             After twenty tries she began to make the papers.  After thirty-seven she made the Guinness Book of World Records.  She kept trying and nine years after her first test, she passed.  And no, her examiner did not just take pity on her—he didn’t know anything about her previous failures until she told him, after he passed her.  This woman spent over $700 taking driving lessons.  Even though she became a laughingstock, she never gave up.

              How easily do we give up?  How many times do we have to fail before we say, “It isn’t worth it?”  If we’re talking about overcoming a sin, I hope we have the endurance of Mrs. Hargrave.  If we’re talking about praying, I hope we ask again and again.  If we’re talking about having a relationship with God, I hope persistence is our middle name.

              Remember the Syrophenician woman whose little girl was ill with a demon (Matt 15:22ff)?  The first time she approached Jesus he never even acknowledged her.  The second time he insulted her.  Yet still she kept coming and soon her great faith was rewarded.

              Remember the parable of the widow who pestered a judge to death until he finally gave her what she wanted (Luke 18:1ff)?  Just to get her off his back he relented.  Jesus’ point is if it works with an unrighteous man, surely it will work with a Holy Father. 

              Remember Paul’s admonition to the Galatians?  They seemed to be wondering if all their labor was worth it.  Paul reminded them of the law of reaping and sowing.  Sooner or later, he said, you will benefit from the good works you do.  Do not grow weary of doing good for in due season we will reap if we do not give up.  Waiting for God’s timetable may well be the most difficult thing He has asked us to do, and the greatest test of our endurance.  Don’t give up.

              The church at Ephesus may have had many faults, but the Lord does say to them, I know you are enduring patiently and bearing up for my name’s sake, and you have not grown weary, Rev 2:3.  Can He say that about us?  Or have we given up, whining about the pressures of temptation, not just bent but completely broken from the trials, deciding that being a disciple of Jesus’ simply isn’t worth the bother?

              What if He had decided you weren’t worth it?  What if he had told God that the cost was too high, that you weren’t worth the trouble, the pain, the anguish of taking on a human form and dying a hideous death after the spiritual torture of taking on every person’s sin throughout all history?  What would you say to him if you knew he had been about to quit?  How hard would you have begged him not to?

              Surely you have more grit, more tenacity, and more determination for spiritual things than a 62 year old grandmother had for a driver’s license.  Surely you won’t give up now.
             
Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted, Hebrews 12:3.
 
Dene Ward

Croquet has a long and unsure history as a game.  The things we do know even seem to be in dispute.  Sometime in the early 1850s, a woman named Mary Workman-MacNaghten, whose father was a baronet in Ireland, went to a London toy maker named Isaac Spratt, and asked him to make a croquet set.  Her family had played the game long before she was born "by tradition," which means no written set of rules, using mallets made by local carpenters.  Her brother eventually wrote down the rules they used.  Spratt made some sets and printed out those rules.  He registered his creation with the Stationers' Company in 1856, but the copyright form gives the date as August 2, 1853, plenty of time for Lewis Carroll to make the game even more famous in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.
 
             When our boys were in middle school we gave them a croquet set.  At first they seemed a little disappointed—croquet?  How boring.  Then we actually started playing and they discovered strategy, like whacking your opponent completely out of bounds with one of your free shots.  Now that was fun.

              We have settled down to annual games during the holidays whenever we get together.  It is the perfect way to let the turkey digest, and we usually wind up playing two or three times.  But that time of year means a less than clear playing field on what is already a rollercoaster lawn.  Our yard, you see, isn’t exactly a lawn.  It’s an old watermelon field, and though the rows have settled somewhat after thirty-odd years, we still have low spots, gopher holes, ant hills, and armadillo mounds.  But in the fall we also have sycamore leaves the size of paper plates, pine cones, piles of Spanish moss, and cast off twigs from the windy fronts that come through every few days between October and March.  You cannot keep it cleaned up if you want to do something besides yard work with your life.  So when you swing your mallet, no matter how carefully you have aimed, you never really know where your ball will end up.  We call it “ultimate croquet.”  Anyone who is used to a tabletop green lawn would be easy pickings for one of us—even me, the perennial loser.

              All those “hazards” make for an interesting game of croquet, but let me tell you something.  I have learned the hard way that an interesting life is not that great.  I have dug ditches in a flooding rainstorm, cowered over my children during a tornado, prayed all night during a hurricane, climbed out of a totaled car, followed an ambulance all the way to the hospital, hugged a seizing baby in my lap as we drove ninety down country roads to the doctor’s office, bandaged bullet wounds, hauled drinking water and bath water for a month, signed my life away before experimental surgeries—well, you get the picture. Give me dull and routine any day. 

              Dull and routine is exactly what Paul told Timothy to pray for.  I exhort therefore, first of all, that supplications, prayers, intercessions, thanksgivings, be made for all men; for kings and all that are in high place; that we may lead a tranquil and quiet life in all godliness and gravity. This is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior; who would have all men to be saved, and come to the knowledge of the truth, 1 Tim 2:1-5. 

              Did you catch that?  Pray that our leaders will do what is necessary for us to have a “tranquil and quiet life” so that all men can “come to a knowledge of the truth.”  God’s ministers cannot preach the gospel in a country where everyone is in hiding or running in terror from the enemy, where you never have enough security to sit down with a man and discuss something spiritual for an hour or so, where you wonder how you will feed your family that night, let alone the next day.  The Pax Romana was one of the reasons the gospel could spread—peace in the known world.  That along with the ease of travel because every country was part of the same empire and a worldwide language made the first century “the fullness of times” predicted in the prophets.

              I don’t have much sympathy for people who are easily bored, who seem to think that life must always be exciting or it isn’t worth living.  I am here to tell you that excitement isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  And God gave us plenty to do during those dull, routine times.  It’s called serving others and spreading the Word.  If you want some excitement, try that.  It’s even better than Ultimate Croquet.
 
Now concerning brotherly love you have no need for anyone to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another, for that indeed is what you are doing to all the brothers throughout Macedonia. But we urge you, brothers, to do this more and more, and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, 1 Thes 4:9-11.
 
Dene Ward

Recently Judah joined big brother Silas for his first overnight with grandma and granddad.  Like his big brother, as soon as his feet hit the cool green grass, he fell in love with going barefoot and ran all over the place.  Since he usually ran me into the ground, I decided that first morning that he could handle walking Chloe with me.  I would have to slow our pace for him, but I was sure his active little legs could handle the distance.

             The boys and I started out ahead and then I called Chloe to follow.  Usually she is out front waiting for me, prancing impatiently, but Chloe is not your average dog.  She is a bit of an oxymoron—a scaredy-cat of a dog.  She is positive that everything on two feet is out to get her.  She is not afraid of us, nor of Lucas, but no one else can get near her.  Not even, as it turns out, a twenty-month old toddler.

              But that didn’t keep the toddler from trying.  As soon as he saw Chloe, Judah left the path along the fence and headed through the field toward her.  As soon as Chloe saw Judah, she took off running.  He sped up and I held my breath as he plowed through vines, briars, blackberries and stinging nettles.  I took off after him, sure that his soft baby skin would be scratched, torn, and bloody.  He single-mindedly waded on through, leaving a trail of bent and broken greenery behind, until finally I caught up and scooped him into my arms.  With his mind still on his goal, he pointed toward Chloe and said, “Dog.  Wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh-wuhf!”

              I checked him over and he was fine, not a mark on him, no blood, no rashes, no stickers poking out of tender little fingers or toes.  So I put him down, this time on the garden path, and called Chloe to resume our walk--and it started all over again.  Judah chased, Chloe ran, and I followed.  This wasn’t going to work.   Finally I got the garden wagon, put Judah in it, and Chloe followed behind at what she deemed a safe distance--about thirty feet.  But every time Judah’s head swiveled to her and his little finger pointed, she veered from the path and dropped back another foot or two, until reassured that the dangerous little predator wouldn’t come swooping in and nab her unexpectedly.

              We had gone out that morning to walk Chloe.  Judah certainly didn’t have the goal in mind when we went for that walk.  That’s why he couldn’t stay on the path.  I realized not long afterward, though, that he did have a goal in mind.  It was just not the same goal as mine.  I wanted to walk the dog.  He wanted to experience the dog. 

              I think too many times we live our lives aimlessly.  We just let it happen, and then wonder why things went south.  We have no plan for improvement, no strategy for overcoming—we don’t even notice the temptation coming!  I found dozens of verses using the words aim, goal, and purpose.  I found others listing the things we should be looking for or to or toward.  Do you really think God has no purpose for you?

              I cry out to God Most High, to God who fulfills his purpose for me. Psa 57:2. 

              ​The LORD has made everything for its purpose, even the wicked for the day of trouble. Prov 16:4.

              If God has a purpose for the evil people in the world, then certainly He has one for His children.  So if He has a purpose for us, shouldn’t we be acting with purpose?  We are familiar with the concept of “purposing” our contributions, but why do you assemble where you do?  To be entertained?  Because this group is loving and makes me feel good?  Because I like the singing?  I know a lot of people who assemble with those goals in mind.  How about these instead:  I assemble here to serve others, even if they don’t serve me; I am here to learn and be admonished, even if they do step on my toes; I am here to participate in those acts we are to do as an “assembly” even if I don’t particularly care for the method used in getting that done.  Do you see?  When I have this sort of purpose, it stops being all about ME.

              Why do you work for a living?  Do you know the reason Paul gives?  “So you may have something to share with anyone in need.”  Eph 4:28.  Is that why you work?  I bet it’s not why your neighbor works.  And here we get to the point.  Judah and I did not share goals that morning, so we did not share paths either.  Are you sharing your neighbor’s path, or are you on a better one?  You ought to be.

              The world may look at how you live and shake its head.  There you go trudging through tall grass, sharp thorns, and clinging vines when the path they are taking is so much easier.  Paul had given up the goal of status among the Jewish leaders, along with potential wealth and fame.  “But whatever gain I had I counted as loss for the sake of Christ,” he said.  His goal in life had changed and so his path had as well.  I am sure his former colleagues and teachers looked with disbelief on the things he left behind and the causes he took up.  “But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” Phil 3:7,13,14, just like that little toddler pressed on that morning.

              What is your goal?  You should have one every day, not just on Sundays, although that would be a good start for a lot of people.  Maybe the first thing you should do is look around and see who is on the same path you are.  That might give you pause to consider.
 
He exhorted them all to remain faithful to the Lord with steadfast purpose, Acts 11:23.
 
Dene Ward

When my studio was still open I enrolled in several professional organizations.  The one dearest to my heart was the small group here in the county.  We met seven times a year, had our business meeting, followed by a lively program one of us, or sometimes all of us, participated in, then a country potluck lunch that had us all trying to keep our eyes open as we taught that afternoon.
 
             Keeping the membership up was a constant battle.  We talked to our friends, invited neighbors, even advertised in the weekly paper.  The results barely kept up with the attrition of old age, relocation, and moms going back to work.  Oh, everyone got a kick out of the programs.  No one turned down a free lunch.  But when they found out they would have to work on fundraisers and projects, suddenly everyone was too busy. 

              Some of them paid dues, but never showed up, thinking that was at least a monetary help.  Eventually we decided that if that was all they would do, we would not approach them the next year to renew their membership.  Our state and national affiliation dues were charged per capita, and our miniscule local dues barely covered them.  What we were about wasn’t fun and games and good food.  Our stated aim was to help keep music programs in the poor rural schools and provide scholarships for worthy students to help with the costs of private lessons.  If a member did not have the same interests, he really didn’t belong anyway.

              Isn’t it that way with the Lord’s body?  Too many are on the rolls in name only.  Oh, they may come, but not for the reason the scriptures give.  Assembling with the saints is not about entertainment; it’s about provoking one another to love and good works, Heb 10: 24, 25.  It isn’t about showing off our talents and receiving praise; it’s about edification and giving God praise, 1 Cor 14:26.  It isn’t about whether I approve of what went on or who is there, it’s about communing with the Lord, Matt 26:29.  It certainly isn’t about judging others, their clothing, their words, their actions; it’s about realizing that the Judge of all is watching my worship and deciding whether or not it is acceptable.

              If all I do is sit there waiting to be catered to, or even uplifted for that matter, I have not fulfilled the real duty of meeting with my brethren no matter how many times I sit on that pew, or how long.  Walking in those doors places an obligation on me to act, not react.  Claiming membership means I need to get busy, not be served.  Putting my name on a roll means I do more than put my check in the plate. 

              Eventually my little organization no longer invited members in name only to re-up.  What would happen if the elders did that in the church?  But here is a more sobering thought—the Lord is already doing it.  Is your name still on His list?
 
And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Then another book was opened, which is the book of life. And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, according to what they had done… And if anyone's name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire. Revelation 20:12,15.
 
Dene Ward