I have studied Abigail for a few decades now but, just like always, I noticed something new this time through. 
 
             Most everyone knows the story:  a bad man married to a good woman, a woman who dares to stand against him and do right.  But let’s speculate a little—and it really isn’t much speculation at all.

              1 Sam 25:4 calls Nabal “a churlish and evil” man, or, in the ESV, “harsh and badly behaved.”  That is not the half of it.  Look at the way those two words were translated in other places.  “Churlish” is also “obstinate, hard, heavy, rough, stubborn, and cruel.”  “Evil” is “grievous, hurtful, and wicked.”  This man wasn’t just a grouch, he was mean and cruel, and it came from a wicked heart.

              Now imagine a “beautiful and discerning woman” married to such a man.  It almost had to be an arranged marriage—she certainly didn’t fall in love with him.  Since he is extremely rich and she is still in prime childbearing age (we find out later), he is probably older than she.  This is also a time when no one would have said anything about physical abuse.  As you keep reading in chapter 25, the man’s servants are clearly terrified of him.  I do not doubt for a moment that they had all suffered physical punishments from him, probably many unjust.  I wouldn’t even be surprised if Abigail hadn’t suffered the same.  God’s Law protected women from men in every way possible, but for a man like this the Law meant nothing. 

              So along comes David’s army, men who had protected Nabal’s servants from passing raiders by the way, which means his livestock--his wealth--were also protected, and David is now in need of provisions for several hundred men.  Surely this “very rich” man who was already in the middle of a celebration time when the food would be plenteous, v 4, 8, could spare some for them. 

              David carefully instructed his men exactly how to approach Nabal.  If you have one of the newer translations you will miss this.  ESV says they “greeted” him, v 5.  But that word is one that means far more than saying hello.  It can also be translated salute, praise, thank, congratulate, even kneel.  All those words involve respect and honor.  Yet Nabal drives them off with exactly the opposite attitudes—disrespect, dishonor, and ingratitude for their service to him.  “Who is this David?” he asks, accusing him of rebellion (v 10, 11), though Abigail knew exactly who he was (v 28, 30), the anointed of God.

              Abigail knows nothing about this event, but Nabal’s servants know plenty about her.  They come running, afraid for their lives for the way their master has treated a warrior and his army.  And Abigail saves the day, gathering up as much as she can and sending it on to David, riding up herself to reason with him and beg for their lives.  When she asks David to remember her, she isn’t asking him to save her from her lot in life.  She goes back to the man and the responsibilities she sees as hers.

              Now think about this.  What would happen today if something similar occurred to a beautiful young woman, stuck in a loveless marriage to a horrible man, a cruel man who probably beat his servants and maybe her as well?  Do you think she would have had any concern for anyone else? 

              Abigail was not so wound up in her own misery that she couldn’t see the misery of others.  She probably cared for the servants her husband abused.  She didn’t whine about not deserving this kind of life.  She didn’t expect everyone to wait on her hand and foot or bend over backwards for her because she was mistreated, nor did she fall into a useless heap of flesh because life was “unfair.”  She just “dealt with it.”  Instead of being a drama queen focused only on her own problems, she looked for ways to help others as the opportunity arose.  She did not allow her misery to blind her to the needs of others. 

              We could talk about her “going behind her husband’s back,” but let’s quickly notice this—she saved his life too, at least until God came into the picture and took it Himself.  “Looking to the good of others,” we call that nowadays and label it the highest form of love.  Abigail did this for everyone, including the undeserving, and regardless of who did and did not do it for her.

              Abigail understood this, and so should we:  it’s not about me, it’s about Him.
 
[Doing] nothing through faction or through vainglory, but in lowliness of mind each counting other better than himself; not looking each of you to his own things, but each of you also to the things of others, Phil 2:3,4.
             
Dene Ward
 
 

Several years back we camped at Cloudland Canyon one autumn week, enjoying the new varieties of bird, the mountains carpeted with fall colors, and the spectacle every morning of clouds wafting through the campground from the cliffs just beyond it, cliffs high enough to look down on hawks as they soared by. 
 
             The neighbors twenty yards away were a small family, a man, his wife, and two little boys, the older about 7 or 8, and the younger just barely past the toddler years.  This was obviously a planned family outing, one that probably didn’t happen very often but that the parents were determined to make a good experience.  They did everything in a planned and almost regimented fashion.  “It’s time to light the fire.”  “Now it’s time to tell ghost stories.”  “Now it’s time to roast marshmallows.”  In between all this, the mother was on her cell phone every hour or so, sometimes for as long as a half hour, seeing to her business. 

              And both parents became impatient at the drop of a hat.  If the boys didn’t react to every activity as they thought they should, they became frustrated and almost angry.  (Who should be surprised if a ghost story terrified a four year old?)  They had mistaken the stereotype of a camping trip for the spontaneous fun of the real thing.  They had probably fallen for that “quality time” myth.

              And because we can’t seem to stop helping out, we offered them a few things, like some lighter wood to help get those campfires going more easily, and we occasionally stopped by on the way back and forth from the bathhouse, to talk and reminisce with them about the times when our two boys were that age.  They seemed appreciative, especially the father, who, we discovered when we got closer, was about 20 years older than the usual father of boys that age, and quite a few years older than the mother.

              As we talked we noticed that the older boy always wore Baylor tee shirts and sweat shirts and had a Baylor hat, so Keith talked to him some about football and asked how Baylor was doing.  The father sighed and said, “He doesn’t know anything about Baylor football.  He just likes the color green.”

              They left after just a weekend, and it sounded like they were leaving one night early, perhaps disappointed that this hadn’t turned out quite like they had expected. 

              You can learn a lot yourselves, just considering this family.  It’s always easier to judge from a distance.  But that little boy can teach us all something today.  Why is it that you assemble where you do?  Why did you choose that place?

              We would all understand the fallacy of going to the handiest place, regardless what they taught.  But how about this:  Do you go where you are needed, or to the place considered the most popular in the area, the most sociable, the one where you wouldn’t mind having people see you standing outside hobnobbing?  Do you go where the work is hard or where the singing is good?  Do you go where the preaching is entertaining or where the teaching is scriptural and plain?  Do you go expecting the church to do for you, or because you want to do for them?

              Too many Christians look upon a church in a proprietary way, as if they had the right to judge everything about it and everyone in it, especially the superficial things—the singing, the preaching, the way the people dress and their occupations and connections in the world.  The way some people choose congregations, they might as well go because they like the color green. 

              The church belongs to Christ, that’s what “church of Christ” means.  It belongs to God, that’s what “church of God” means.  Christ’s church is there to give me an outlet for my service and a source of encouragement toward doing that service.  It is not there to serve me and my preferences. 

              Someday that little boy will grow up and learn to examine the football programs he roots for, choosing them for their character and integrity instead of their colors.  Maybe it’s time we grew up with him.
 
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 4:9-13     
 
Dene Ward

Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever!  Psalm 107:1
 
              Have you ever had a friend who made you wonder how you would be greeted and treated on any particular day?  Have you ever had a boss who one minute nominated you for employee of the year and the next left you in fear of losing your job?  Have you yourself ever woke up one morning and bitten everyone’s head off just for being alive and daring to smile?
 
             Moody people are difficult to deal with.  You never know how to act.  You never know what to say and not to say.  In fact, you do your best to avoid people like that if at all possible.  And when you recognize that you have done it to others, you loathe yourself for it.  It isn’t right; it isn’t fair; it certainly isn’t kind.

              This brings me to the verse at the top, a promise we all too often read without thinking, as if it were a meaningless refrain.  “His steadfast love endures forever.”  It isn’t just that God will love us forever, though that is reason enough to praise Him.  That word “endure” also carries with it the idea that His love is consistent and will never waver.  You will never find God in a bad mood. 

              You don’t have to worry that one day He has a headache and might be a little short-tempered.  He won’t ever get up on the wrong side of bed and snap at you because you dared to talk to Him before He had His morning cup of coffee.  He won’t decide on a whim one morning to hand you a pink slip.  God’s love is consistent—nothing can cause it to vacillate as long as you serve Him with all your heart.

              If we truly want to be more like Him, we should love Him the same way—whether the day brings good or ill, whether we feel well or not, and even when we suffer.  It’s not like He didn’t suffer for us, and not only did His love not waver then, it is precisely because of His unwavering love for us that He suffered.

              And if we want to serve Him, maybe we should do our best to get past those bad moods we foist on others.  There is no excuse for pettiness, for mean-spiritedness, for spite and malice, no matter what we are going through at the time, certainly not because we just happen to be in a bad mood that day.  As servants, we don’t have the right to be in a bad mood--we must be in the mood to love and serve Him every day, which means, according to Matthew 25, loving and serving others that way. 

              Unwavering, eternal love—that’s what He gives, and that is what we should return. 
 
Love is patient and kind…it is not arrogant or rude. It is not irritable or resentful… 1 Cor 13:4-6.
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Warren Berkley.

A.W. Tozer was precise and scripturally correct when he said: “Self-knowledge is so critically important to us in our pursuit of God and His righteousness that we lie under heavy obligation to do immediately whatever is necessary to remove the disguise and permit our real selves to be known.”

Central to all your character and conduct is your self-concept. This simply means how you see yourself, knowing who you are. You must avoid an unhealthy preoccupation or obsession with self. Subjective distortions can be detrimental. But there is an awareness of yourself and perception of who you are that is central to your potential. It is important to be strong and clear about who you are. Perhaps these inquiries will find a place in forming and maintaining clarity in your knowledge of who you are.

Do you see yourself as a giver or taker? Actually each of us are takers (receivers), for we are the unworthy recipients of the generosity of God evident in our very existence (Acts 17:28). Christians are recipients of the grace of God and Christ, “through the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Spirit, whom He poured out on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Savior, that having been justified by His grace we should become heirs according to the hope of eternal life,” (Titus 3:5b-7). Each of us, therefore, are takers (receivers, partakers). But in another sense the question ought to be weighed: Do you have greater interests in taking than giving? That goes to character. The teaching of Acts 20:35 is germane to this. “…And remember the words of the Lord Jesus, that He said, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive’.”  The generosity of Jesus’ character & teaching ought to become our purpose, so that we are focused on giving not taking.  (See also Rom. 12:8; Isa. 32:8; 2 Cor. 8:2).

Do you see yourself as a victim or perpetrator? There is a bothersome grumbling seen in people, always blaming others, pointing to circumstances and claiming to be victims. The cry (spoken or implied) is: “Everybody else is wrong. Everybody else is incorrect. Everybody else should take responsibility. Everybody should see and acknowledge my purity and know how unfairly I’m treated!” This is childish. It will help us – when things happen and generally in life – to prayerfully and cautiously evaluate if we were victimized or did we perpetrate the event or events. If you fall into the habit of dogmatically claiming to be the victim, this reflects an absence of humility. Assuming you never do anything wrong is a wrong approach. We are not always victims! We must not always and immediately come to our defense. Sometimes we are perpetrators! In fact, we are all perpetrators in this sense: “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,” (Rom. 3:23). There is great value in humble self-examination.

Do you see yourself as a servant or a master? The Lord’s disciples, in their early days of coming to grips with the truth, sought greatness and vanity. Jesus responded by using a child to teach these grown men the humility they hadn’t yet embraced (Matt. 18:1-5). A few days later, the same ambition showed itself. Jesus responded again: “And whoever desires to be first among you, let him be your slave – just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many,” (Matt. 20:27,28).

Oswald Chambers has said: “If you are going to live for the service of your fellowmen, you will certainly be pierced through with many sorrows, for you will meet with more base ingratitude from your fellowmen than you would from a dog. You will meet with unkindness and two-facedness, and if your motive is love for your fellowmen, you will be exhausted in the battle of life. But if the mainspring of your service is love for God, no ingratitude, no sin, no devil, no angel, can hinder you from serving your fellowmen, no matter how they treat you. You can love your neighbor as yourself, not from pity, but from the true centering of yourself in God.”

Ultimately, all our inquires into self need to answer the question: Am I a child of God, or a child of the devil? Because of what Jesus Christ did, you can become a child of God; you can use the Word of God to know yourself, improve yourself and give of yourself to the Creator, to the Savior, to your family, your brethren and your fellowman.
 
Warren Berkley
berksblog.net

[This was written a few years ago after a serious surgery with even more serious complications.  Just so you have the proper context…]
 
              When I was little and listened to the sick list at church, no matter where we went, there was always someone who was “chronically ill.”   All that meant to me was they were never at church.  I couldn’t fathom an illness that never got any better, that gave you good days and bad days, that made you careful not to “overdo” because of the adverse effects that might have on you.  Now I understand, and wish I didn’t.

             I no longer have any social life--my doctor is my social life.  I see more of him than any of my brothers and sisters in the Lord.  I talk on the phone more to his office help than to church folks.  I spend more hours sitting in his examining chair than I do in a pew.  In fact, they ought to rent me a room there. 

              And I know this will take a toll on my spirituality.  It becomes more and more difficult to keep a good attitude.   While I certainly have more time to study, not having a current class to prepare to teach makes it less a priority and easy to put off, especially when reading is so difficult.  Helping others is nearly impossible, especially when you don’t even know what’s going on with the brethren any more.  So yes, my spirituality is suffering.  I struggle to keep it every day.  But the circumstances cannot be helped.

              What I do not understand is people who do this to themselves on purpose:  those who darken the meetinghouse door only enough to keep the elders and deacons off their backs, and leave while the last amen is still echoing down the hall; who never take advantage of the extra Bible studies held in homes, a safe place to ask questions without embarrassment and learn from those who have wisdom and experience in life; who avoid all the social gatherings of the church scheduled between the services, while regularly finding time to be with friends in the world, not to teach, but simply to socialize; who never have a Bible lesson prepared—that’s only for the children—who never attend a wedding or funeral so they can “weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice,” those who are healthy enough to jog, to play tennis, to hunt or fish, to go to ball games and sit in the hot sun for hours cheering, but simply do not want more than they consider the bare minimum to get by as a Christian. 

              Here is the problem with that:  there is no such thing as the bare minimum.  If Satan can get you to believe that lie, he has sabotaged any chance you have to make it to Heaven.  God expects us to give our all, no matter how much that may be; more for some, less for others, depending upon the circumstances of life.  It is difficult enough when the minimum IS your maximum, but doing that to yourself on purpose will only make you miserable in both lives, this one and the one to come.

              The early Christians understood that they were spiritual lifelines for each other; they would not let go for anyone or anything.  They spent time together, strengthening one another from the beginning, and because of that they were able to withstand horrors we can only imagine.  If you wait till the horror is upon you to reach out for that lifeline, it is probably too late.
 
And all that believed were together and had all things common…And day by day continuing steadfastly with one accord in the Temple, and breaking bread from house to house, they took their food with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God and having favor with all the people.  And the Lord added to them day by day those that were saved, Acts 2:44,46,47.
 
Dene Ward

Silas and Judah stay with for a few days nearly every year, and they always leave me with great stories to tell and lessons to learn.  This one was several years ago.
 
             The first morning we gathered up swimsuits, towels and water toys for a trip to their great-grandmother’s (“Gran-Gran”) in a subdivision with a pool at the community center.  We nabbed the pool pass off her wall and headed down the shady lane with mounting excitement only to find a sign posted on the gate to the pool:  “The pool is temporarily closed due to health concerns.”

              They did as well as they could, for a five-year-old and a two-year-old, at hiding their disappointment, but on the trip home Keith and I were desperately trying to come up with a solution.  Finally we hit upon one.  Our neighbor owns a veterinary supply business.  Many of his products come in bright blue plastic barrels slightly larger than 55 gallon drums, which he empties as he fills smaller bottles for his customers.  He often gives us the empties which we wash out and use for all sorts of things.  We happened to have two that were cut down to about two feet deep.

              Granddad rolled those tubs out to the yard in the shade of the huge live oaks on the west side of the house and filled them with water.  Then we divvied up plastic cups and water guns and plopped a little boy in each tub along with all the paraphernalia.  As children will, especially kids as bright as these, they soon had a good game or two going, and we grandparents managed to stay out of the way of most of the water, if not all of it, especially those extra long squirts from the water guns.

              Then Silas, the older boy, came up with the best game, the one that splashed the most water and got him the wettest.  He stood up as tall as he could, and to the cry of “Cowabunga!” lifted both feet in a big jump and landed on his seat in the tub.  The water displacement alone was awesome, especially for such a skinny little boy.  He usually wound up with his head barely above the water, even choking on it occasionally.  Good thing those tubs were well-washed.

              Judah adores his big brother.  If Silas does it, he does it.  If Silas says it, he says it too.  Or at least tries.  But he is not without at least some measure of caution.  I watched as he considered his brother’s maniacal call and monumental splash.  He seemed to weigh things for a moment and then finally came to a decision.  “Cowabunda!” he cried, which was a little easier to say, then jumped up in the air, landing on his feet and squatting carefully in his own little blue tub.  Even being several inches shorter, more of him stayed out of the water and the splash was much less.  He may have imitated his brother’s actions, but he had not made the same commitment.

              And that is often where our Christianity stops.  We make a good show of it, but the heart isn’t there.  When the time of sacrifice comes, when we might end up floundering in deep water, it’s asking too much.  Which is exactly what the Lord does ask for—everything.

              In those classic commitment passages of Luke 9 and 14, he makes it plain that nothing can be more important to you than he is.  Not comfort and convenience (9:57,58); not family (9:59,60; 14:20); not business (14:18); not possessions (14:19); nothing can get in the way.  Then we have one that I had a hard time figuring out.

              Yet another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.”  Luke 9:61.  We already have several references to family relationships, especially when you add “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me,” and the like.  Then I remembered the call of Elisha.  He too asked Elijah if he could go home and kiss his parents goodbye, and yes, Elijah allowed him to not only do that, but to prepare a feast with the very oxen he had been plowing with at his call (1 Kgs 19:19-21).  Surely Jesus was referring to this well-known bit of Jewish history when he said, “No, you cannot go home and say goodbye.”

              So perhaps it means, “I am even more important than a great prophet like Elijah,” the one most Jews considered the greatest prophet of all.  To make such an assertion was astounding, and to follow Jesus as he required meant one accepted that claim too.  Yes, Jesus asked for it all, even placing your social and religious life on the line by accepting his teaching and claims.

              You can’t dip your toes in the water and claim to be his disciple.  You have to take the plunge, even if it means landing hard and choking on the water when you do.  If you’re scared of making waves in your little blue tub of a world, chances are you have never made the commitment you should have.
 
And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.  For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself? For whoever is ashamed of me and of my words, of him will the Son of Man be ashamed when he comes in his glory and the glory of the Father and of the holy angels, Luke 9:23-26.
 
Dene Ward

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