I do not mean to leave you discouraged, so let me share some success stories with you.  After all these years, we have a few, and I do believe God meant us to share them with one another (Acts 14:27). 
            I remember a lot of baptisms.  Keith has baptized in swimming pools, sunken bathtubs, and ponds.  I remember standing right at the shore, cold water lapping at my feet on a chilly January night as a young woman came up out of the water with him, and wrapping her in blankets as quickly as I could.  I remember him coming home one night, sticking his legs out of the truck door to show me the damp hems because a Bible study had resulted in the birth of a babe in Christ.  I remember the night we stood on the edge of a swamp, bullfrogs croaking a bass chorus and headlights shining over the weedy waters, as he baptized a young man he had studied with for several weeks.  I believe it was May and I remember thinking, surely God will keep the snakes at bay tonight!
            I remember some neighbors up the street in another state, who had started coming to services, and her to our women’s class, and who wanted so badly to be baptized one Sunday morning, they wouldn’t even change into robes.  “We came in these clothes, and these clothes are going down with us, right now!” the man said.  I think we did persuade him to remove his wallet and take off his shoes.
            I remember another young man who faithfully completed the correspondence course, asking good questions along the way, and then sent back his final lesson with the note, “I’m ready to be baptized.”  He attended faithfully until he moved away.  I remember another young man whose commitment was restored after a long talk, who brought his wife to us, and has gone on to begin a church in an area where there was none, still faithful after thirty years
            God sends you other encouragements if you just pay attention.  One neighbor had seen us leave every Sunday morning, and when suddenly she had custody of her three grandchildren, she called, wanting us to take them to church with us.  We certainly would have loved to have her as well, but we didn’t look down on the opportunity.  For two years those children were dressed and waiting every Sunday morning at 8:00.  I have no idea if that has borne fruit, but I do know this—when the woman died, her children asked Keith to speak at her memorial.  Something had been planted and it did have some effect.  That’s all God asks us to do.
            Sowing the seed is not a part-time job.  For a Christian, it’s a career.  Get on with it.  No one will be judged by the results.  Just remember that every person you come across is a potential field and everything you do can affect the results of your planting.  That is what you will be judged on, not the number of splashes.
            God wants sowers.  He wants waterers, and, we hope, plenty of harvesters.  The seed will yield its crop, but don’t get so busy counting ears of corn that you forget to plant the next row.
 
For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it. Isaiah 55:10-11
 
Dene Ward

I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase, 1 Cor 3:6. 
            We should probably talk some more about that discouragement issue because it never goes away.  You teach and teach and teach; you invite at every opportunity that comes along; you serve and reach out, and yet it seems like nothing comes of it.  If you aren’t careful, you stop trying.  It isn’t doing any good, is it?  That is not for me to say. 
            I told you before of the young woman I tried to reach so long ago.  Just because I have no contact with her now, doesn’t mean nothing came of it.  I remember having discussions during free periods in high school.  I took friends to Bible study with me.  I wrote essays in English class that I knew would be passed around the class for comment.  I have never seen anything come from any of that, but as Keith often says, I don’t need to be whittling on God’s end of the stick.  He is the one who gives the increase.  When I start meddling in His affairs, I become disheartened.  If I stick with my own end, I will stay too busy to worry about the results.
            I suppose my biggest dose of discouragement came a couple of years ago.  Some new neighbors had moved in a few years before and she and I became friends.  I easily recruited her to a local community service club, but anything religiously oriented was a different story.  So I invited her to a coffee at my home where she met some of my church family.  So far, so good.  I invited her to our women’s Bible study, and immediately she distanced herself.  Too much too soon, I thought, so I had a church friend whose decorating ability she had shown interest in, invite her to lunch at her home, along with another church sister.  An instant yes, but then as the day approached my neighbor suddenly developed something else she had to do.
            So I backed off again.  I still mentioned the church to her as often as possible, telling her how wonderful they were.  I made sure she knew about all the help I received after all the surgeries, and she was genuinely impressed so I invited again, including a written invitation.  Still nothing. 
            Then one day, her husband called to tell me she had died without warning.  No one even knew she had been sick.  In fact, we had talked on the phone just three days before.  It was like a kick in the stomach.  I do not believe I have ever felt quite so discouraged in my sowing duties.
            That is exactly what the enemy wants, and that is exactly why you need to stop worrying about God’s end of the stick.  When the depression is accompanied by grief it is especially debilitating.  All you need to remember is this:  Just. Keep. Sowing! 
            Since that time I have suddenly had more opportunities to speak to people.  God is encouraging me, I thought, so I have tried to do my part as well.  I am anything but the Great Evangelist, but here are a few things I have tried. 
            When I have the car maintenance done, I purposely make the appointment right before ladies’ Bible class so I can use the shuttle service to the class.  You would be surprised how many drivers want to know what I will be teaching, and then ask about the church.  I have even managed to give out a few tracts.
            When I buy my groceries I do it before Bible class and then have the bagger put the cold things into my cooler.  “I have to teach a Bible class before I go home,” I explain, and that has led to conversations too.
            I carry my Bible and my notebook to doctor’s appointments and write these little essays there.  As many appointments as I have, surely someone will be interested some day.  Even the cleaning lady recognizes me now.
            I have no idea if any of these things will bear fruit, but I do “consider him faithful who has promised,” Heb 11:11, and he promised to see to the growth of the seed if I just sow it.
            Don’t become depressed when you don’t see results from your work.  That part is none of your business.  Just keep sowing the seed.  You do your part, and He will do His.
 
What then is Apollos? What is Paul? Servants through whom you believed, as the Lord assigned to each. I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. He who plants and he who waters are one, and each will receive his wages according to his labor. 1 Corinthians 3:5-8.
 
Dene Ward

A long time ago a young woman I had met in the small town where we lived asked me for some advice.  Her marriage was suffering and she didn’t know what to do. 
            I was too young for her to be asking me, but she had found out I was “a preacher’s wife,” and thought that automatically made me a font of wisdom.  When she finally asked her question, my answer came easily (and with a sigh of relief).  The problem was a perfect fit for a scripture in Corinthians and I simply had her read what the inspired apostle said about it.  I didn’t have to say a word.
            Her mouth hung open in shock.  “That’s the answer,” she said.  “But why haven’t my own church leaders been able to show me this verse?”  It was not a difficult passage to find.  Anyone who has grown up attending Bible classes in the church would know where to find it.  The fact that men who called themselves her spiritual leaders could not help her with the same passage gave me an opening, and we began a Bible study that lasted several weeks. 
            I was far too idealistic.  I thought when people saw it in black and white, they would instantly change, and that left me wide open for hurt and discouragement.  We finally reached a point where her conscience was pricked and she was floundering about, wondering what to do. 
            “Would you come again next week and talk to my church leaders too?” she asked, and what could twenty-two year old me say, but “Of course, if you don’t mind if my husband comes with me.”  She agreed enthusiastically.
            All of us met the next Tuesday evening at her home, me with all sorts of great expectations, and an hour long discussion ensued.  To make a long story short, they simply told us that they had more faith than we did because they would accept a piece of literature as inspired which contained neither internal nor external evidences, the kind of evidences that make the Bible obviously true.  I was flabbergasted, and learned my first lesson—some people will believe what they want to believe, not what is reasonable to believe.
            The next week I went to her home on Tuesday morning for our usual study.  She met me at the door and, with tears in her eyes, she said, “I’m sorry.  They told me I can’t study with you any more.”
            “But don’t you want to?  I helped you when they couldn’t.” 
            “I know,” she said.  “But they are my leaders, and I have to obey them.”
            Talk about discouraging.  What do you do when someone who is good-hearted and clearly sees the truth allows herself to be taken in by people who obviously cannot—or will not--even help her with her problems?  It isn’t just the stubborn and willful who reject the word of God, another new lesson for me to learn.  In fact, it takes strength of will to accept it when it means you must stand against friends and family, and when your life will experience an instant upheaval. 
            So here is the main lesson today:  Be careful whom you trust.  Be careful whom you allow to direct your path, and have the gumption to take responsibility for your own soul.  If someone who wanted the truth could allow it to slip through her fingers so easily at the word of people who were never there for her until it became obvious their numbers might go down, it could happen to you too.  The religious leaders in Jesus’ day looked down on the people with scorn (John 7:49), yet those very people followed them right down the road to Calvary, berating a man who had stood up for them more than once to those same leaders, pushing him to his crucifixion. 
            And here is another lesson:  don’t let your idealism make you vulnerable to discouragement.  I will always remember that young woman.  We moved far away not long afterward. As far as I know she stayed where she was religiously, and never found her way out of it.  But I do have this hope—I planted a seed.  God is the one who sees to the increase, 1 Cor 3:6.  Don’t ever in your mind deny God the power to make that seed grow.  I am not as idealistic as I used to be, but I still hope that someday I will meet her again, standing among the sheep.
 
But false prophets also arose among the people, just as there will be false teachers among you, who will secretly bring in destructive heresies, even denying the Master who bought them, bringing upon themselves swift destruction. And many will follow their sensuality, and because of them the way of truth will be blasphemed. And in their greed they will exploit you with false words. Their condemnation from long ago is not idle, and their destruction is not asleep. 2 Peter 2:1-3
 
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  

Shortly after we bought our new home, our son's apartment reached the end of its lease, forcing him to decide whether to renew the lease or try to find a more economical place to live.  When he first got there, the rent was more than reasonable, especially for a beach town, but thirteen years and a ton of inflation later, it has tripled.  As a bachelor working a full time job and preaching full time as well, he has no time for the lawn care, home maintenance and repair that a homeowner must take care of.  Instead he signs a one year lease and lets the landlord handle all of that, and is able to move as it suits him.  We, on the other hand, signed a thirty year mortgage and take care of it all.
            Some people view Christianity that way.  They sign a lease when times get tough, expecting the Landlord to fix the broken things.  When times are better, their lack of complete commitment shows in less devotion and service or even a complete failure to renew the lease. 
God expects, not a thirty year mortgage, but a lifetime commitment.  He demands all of you—your deeds (Col 3:17), your thoughts (Phil 4:8), your very being (Gal 2:20).  Nothing less will do.
          Does that happen the minute you come out of the water?  No.  But it cannot happen if you have not made that ritual commitment, any more than you are a homeowner until you sign the papers.  That is your commitment and for the rest of your life you strive to live up to it, growing stronger as the days pass, giving more and more of yourself every day.
          If you haven't made that commitment at all, maybe today is the day to start again, not by being baptized again, for we are all still learning and growing at that point, but by better recognizing what God requires and getting on with it.  It is never too late as long as you can draw breath.
          God is not your landlord.  He holds the lien on you, a lien you will never be able to pay back.  Thank him for his grace and give him your life in gratitude.
 
We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin (Rom 6:4-7).
 
Dene Ward

I grew up reading and playing the piano instead of playing outside where it was dangerous to someone who couldn’t see well.  As a result, I was about as physically un-fit as anyone could possibly be.  Even after a genius of a doctor fitted my strangely shaped eyeballs with contact lenses more or less successfully in my mid-teens and I could finally see what lay in front of my feet, I had grown accustomed to sedentary activities and preferred them.
            Then I had babies, gained thirty pounds and could hardly walk across the house—which is not exactly large—without gasping for air.  I decided it was time to change things.  Keith had jogged since I had known him.  My closest friend, who lived just across the cornfield from me, also jogged.  Surely I could do this, too, I thought.  But I did not want to be embarrassed by how I looked doing it or by failure if indeed I couldn’t. 
            We lived well off the highway on property not ours, but whose owner allowed us to use it in exchange for the improvements we made to it—tearing down and hauling off a dilapidated frame house, digging a well and septic tank, and putting up a power pole—and for watching the property and livestock for him since he lived a half mile away.  We were surrounded by his fields, including a small hay field and larger cow pasture.  Neither of those could be seen from either the highway or the neighbors’ homes.  So I drove around the fields and measured them with the odometer.  The hayfield perimeter measured a quarter mile and the pasture three-quarters.  Now I could keep track of my progress.
            Nathan was four, so that first day I set him on a hay wagon in the middle of the hayfield and jogged the quarter mile around.  When I finished I thought I might pass out, or die, or both.  The next morning I could hardly get out of bed, but I did and after Keith left for the meetinghouse I jogged again, but this time I went all the way around plus one fencepost further.  Once again I survived.  The next day I went two fenceposts past one lap, and the next day three.
            The hayfield was a rectangle and I was adding my fenceposts on a long side.  When I finally reached the end of that side, I added the whole short side at once making one and a half laps.  The day after that I added half the other long side, then the other half and the last short side, making two whole laps.  Once I could do three laps I moved to the cow pasture.  One lap around the pasture plus one around the hayfield and I had completed a whole mile.  I could hardly believe it.
            I made that progress in one month and lost ten pounds without even trying.  Within six months I was jogging on the highway, a five mile circuit six days a week.  I had lost thirty pounds.  I was never fast.  The best I ever did was the tortoise-like pace of 5 miles in 47 minutes, but it wasn’t the 47 minutes that got me back to my front door that day, it was the fact that I kept going.
            Sometimes we expect too much of ourselves.  I have known new Christians who expected their lives to change instantly the moment they came up out of the water.  They thought sinful attitudes would suddenly morph into godly ones and temptation would be a thing of the past.  Once the adrenaline rush wore off and life became routine, their lack of speedy progress discouraged them.  No one would expect a person such as I was to run five miles the first time she ever tried, but for some reason we expect that in our spiritual progress.  We do have a lot of powerful help, but powerful doesn’t mean “miraculous.” 
            We seem to expect it of others too.  If a person has a failing as a young man, it will be held against him forever.  The fact that he improves is seldom noticed, but let him slip one time, even if it has been ten years, and suddenly everyone is saying, “There he goes again.”  Many of my brethren would never have allowed Peter to reach the eldership for exactly that reason.  Peter’s impetuosity was a problem for him, as was fear of what others thought, even after Pentecost (Gal 2), but he did improve, and those people noticed instead of saying “again,” or he would never have been an elder.
            Do you think others didn’t have problems after their conversion?  Look at the admonitions in Romans 14 and 1 Corinthians 8.  They were still suffering from a background of idolatry.  They couldn’t eat that meat without “eating as a thing sacrificed to an idol” (8:7).  That problem did not disappear overnight.
            Unless we are willing to say that we have reached perfection, none of us believes that it’s how fast we progress that matters.  We all believe that it’s the improvement that God judges.  Some of us have gone farther than others, but if we have stopped and are leaning on the fence, perfectly content with where we are, God will not be pleased with us.  God rewards only the one who is progressing, even if it’s just one fencepost at a time.
 
Brethren, I count not myself yet to have laid hold: but one thing I do, forgetting the things which are behind, and stretching forward to the things which are before, I press on toward the goal unto the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Phil 3:13-14
 
Dene Ward
 

Just as I was taught in my college pedagogy classes, I ran my music studio with a policy letter.  It explained what the students and parents could expect of me and what I expected of them.  It explained the payment schedule, and all the things they received for their money—far more than the minutes I spent parked on the bench next to their child.
            The letter also explained my “instant dismissal rules.”  The trick to instant dismissal rules is to have very few, but to enforce the few you do have without fail.  Suddenly you are being treated like a professional instead of the little old lady down the street who teaches a piano lesson or two to pass the time.  I was a professional, the professors told me, with 13 years of training—about as much as a doctor, so I did deserve to be treated that way.  I went over the letter at an interview before ever accepting a student—especially the instant dismissal rules--and the parents signed it and kept a copy.
            My instant dismissal rules?  If you miss seven lessons in the year, whether excused or not, you are dismissed.  If you miss three consecutive lessons, whether excused or not, you are dismissed.  Those two were as much for the student and his parents as they were for me.  If a child was missing that much, he wasn’t getting his parents’ money’s worth.  It also wasn’t fair to my two year waiting list to have to wait for a spot held by a child who was seldom there.  Since the applicants had come from that list themselves, they understood that point immediately.
            My last rule was this:  if you miss the Spring Program you are instantly dismissed.  Why?  I spent at least $200 a year on my annual program in recital hall rent, refreshments, paper goods, printing, and props.  Besides solos, we always had group numbers, and if one child missed, it wrecked a whole piece for several students, not just him.  And finally, this was my advertising; this was how I showed the parents that I was worth the money they were spending.  A wrecked Spring Program was a business disaster.
            In 35 years I think I invoked the instant dismissal rule only twice.  One student was ready to quit anyway, so she simply didn’t show up for the Spring Program.  She knew exactly what she was doing, and since I halfway expected it, I managed to keep the damage to a minimum.
            But another time, a young man who was doing very well didn’t show up and had not called ahead.  (Yes, if there was a legitimate emergency I was not a Hard-Hearted Hannah.)  No one else knew where he was either, and I had to scramble at the last minute to find an older, accomplished student who could pinch hit for him with no warning.
            The next morning I called his mother and told her he was dismissed and why.  Her reaction?  She was furious.  “We had company!” she exclaimed, and I then made mention of the policy letter she had signed, telling her that her company would have been more than welcome.  “That old thing?  I haven’t even looked at it since you handed it to me.  How am I supposed to remember all that stuff?”
            Any time I tell that story, people are horrified at that mother’s attitude.  Her son’s piano lessons obviously meant nothing much to her.  Yet while we will shake our heads at that story, we often do the same thing to God.  Imagine the mother above had been talking about the Bible. “That old thing?  I haven’t even looked at it since you handed it to me.  How am I supposed to remember all that stuff?”  I have a feeling some will try the same line on God at the end of the “term,” and will find out the God enforces his instant dismissal rules too. 
            My Spring Program was also an awards ceremony.  I managed to find enough things to award that any child who worked at it even a little could win something.  Only a few walked away with first or second place trophies from State Contest, yet anyone who came to every lesson, or met the make-ups I offered for excused absences, could win a perfect attendance ribbon.  If a student went away empty-handed it was because he didn’t try, and for no other reason.
            God is going to be handing out awards too, and you get the big one for simply following the rules in the policy letter and doing your best every moment.  Pull it out today.  He does expect you to read it.  He does expect you to remember it.  He doesn’t even mind if you bring your company with you.  But don’t expect Him to change the rules just for you.
 
He will render to each one according to his works: to those who by patience in well-doing seek for glory and honor and immortality, he will give eternal life; but for those who are self-seeking and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, there will be wrath and fury. Rom 2:6-8
 
Dene Ward

Keith and I have opposite opinions on how a home should look.  His idea of beauty involves bright colors everywhere.  Mine is simple elegance.  His idea of a comfortable home is convenience—everything should be exactly where he left it because he will need it there again sooner or later.  Mine is at least enough orderliness to soothe a frazzled mind.  I knew we would have a difficult time agreeing on anything in this new home.  He said everything was up to me.  Let's just say, he had good intentions.  I suppose if we hired an interior designer, s/he would have a difficult time pleasing us both.  Good thing we cannot afford to hire one.  It's up to us to somehow compromise with one another, just as we have the past 49 years.
            I think maybe that is why one can find so many "churches" out there.  Many of us have gotten so wealthy that we think we can just hire someone to do what we dictate even in the church.  This is how I want my church to be, what I want it to do, and how I want it to do it.  If it doesn't please me, you haven't done the job right.  We seem to forget that we did not design the church.  God planned before He ever made the world what the church should be (Eph 3:8-12).  He had the apostles teach the same things in every church so they would all be the same (1 Cor 4:17).  If one is different from the other, we are the ones who messed up.  We decided we were the interior designers, and worse, we decided not to follow the Customer's desires and opinions.  We decided we knew better than He about such things as our activities when we meet together and the use of our resources.  Just what would you do if the designer you hired changed the paint color you wanted without your permission and put a wall where you wanted an open concept?  I think you would fire him.
            So what in the world do you think God would do to the one who changed the pattern for the church His son died for, the body who is supposed to be subject to Him in all things, the family He is the head of, the flock He leads?  I think firing might be the least of that person's problems.
 
That is why I sent you Timothy, my beloved and faithful child in the Lord, to remind you of my ways in Christ, as I teach them everywhere in every church…This is my rule in all the churches…as in all the churches of the saints… as I directed all the churches of Galatia, do also do you…(1Cor 4:17: 7:17;14:33; 16:1;  ).
 
Dene Ward

A few years ago Keith bought me a leaf blower for Valentine’s Day.  Yes, ladies, I know what you are thinking, but in this case you are wrong.  We don’t do diamonds.  We don’t do gold.  We don’t even do silver-plate.  We have always had to live so closely that any gift-giving occasion is treated as an excuse to buy what we need anyway.  Just ask the boys about the several Christmases when they got bedspreads, sheets, blinds, and even trash cans for their bedrooms.
            I had been spending hours every week sweeping the carport.  It was either that or spend even more time sweeping the house as the sand was tracked in.  With the blower I could get the job done in about five minutes, especially after I learned to handle the thing.  You never turn it on pointed down, unless you want a face full of sand, and be careful any direction you turn if you don’t want to blow on what you just blew off.  Even Chloe learned to keep her distance the first time I turned it on in her direction and for two days her fur looked like it had been caught in a hurricane blowing in the tail direction.
            Perhaps the most obvious point is to always blow in the direction of the wind.  I have quit trying to wait till the wind isn’t blowing, not out in the country in the middle of a field—I would never get it done.  So I settle for the couple of hours the carport looks nice afterward, and remind myself how awful it would have looked if I had just let the leaves and sand pile up.  But I have learned to test the wind.  It is much easier to blow the leaves the way the wind is blowing them anyway.  Otherwise it’s exactly like paddling upriver.  You can do it, but it takes a whole lot more work.
            I think that may be the best way to judge most decisions you have to make as a Christian—that is, conversely.  If it’s too easy, it’s probably the wrong decision.  If it doesn’t cost you anything, you are probably selling your soul. 
            God has always expected his people to make tough decisions.  By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward, Heb 11:24-26.  Moses chose God instead of wealth and power.
            Joseph chose prison instead of adultery, Gen 39:9.  Ruth chose a life of poverty (she thought) so she could worship God and be a part of his people rather than the comfort of her own culture, Ruth 1:16.  The apostles chose to follow an unpopular route that led to death, instead of staying in good graces with the powers that be and living a normal life.  For I think that God has exhibited us apostles as last of all, like men sentenced to death, because we have become a spectacle to the world, to angels, and to men. We are fools for Christ's sake…we [are held] in disrepute. To the present hour we hunger and thirst, we are poorly dressed and buffeted and homeless, and we labor, working with our own hands. When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we entreat. We have become, and are still, like the scum of the world, the refuse of all things, 1Cor 4:9-13.
            God’s people have always been challenged with this decision.  “Choose this day whom you will serve,” Joshua demanded of Israel, 24:15.  “How long will you go limping between two opinions?” Elijah asked in 1 Kgs 18:21.  Make a decision, they were saying.  We face the same challenge, and we face it every day. 
            If life has confronted you with a decision, I can almost guarantee you that the hard choice is the right one.  You have to blow against the winds of society, and even worse, the winds of self.  Christianity has never been the easy way out.  Yet, when you set your priorities correctly and think in spiritually mature terms, it’s the only obvious one.
 
I call heaven and earth to witness against you today, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore choose life that you and your offspring may live, loving the LORD your God, obeying his voice and holding fast to him, for he is your life and length of days… Deut 30:19-20.
 
Dene Ward

Keith said it not long ago and I know he is right.  When you take a cake to a potluck, no matter how small you cut the pieces, a woman will come along and cut one of those tiny smidgens in half.
            Once I took a large cake to a gathering.  It was a decidedly rich cake.  I knew that, so I carefully cut half inch slices, which tapered to veritably nothing in the middle.  Sure enough, along came a woman who stood there trying her best to cut one of those slices in half vertically.  What did she do?  She backed up the line for one thing because it took her well over five minutes, and all she ended up with was a pile of mush.  A three layer cake with frosting and filling will simply not hold together in a quarter inch slice.  I am strongly tempted to try that the next time and see if someone attempts to cut a quarter inch slice in half as well!  Can I suggest that it would be easier to take a whole slice and share with someone else, or wrap up the other half and take it home?
            But of course, the point today is a spiritual one.  How many times have you seen someone doing their best to get as little spirituality into their lives as possible?  What else can be the reason behind such questions as, "Do I have to attend on Wednesday nights?"  Or how about comments like, "I would love to go to that class, but they expect so much work out of you in between classes."  Or, "That class is too deep for me."  Those are just the ones having to do with Bible study.  One wonders how much is too much when it comes to living a Christlike life.  I have heard comments about drawing a line in their commitment that make me wonder if the person even understands the word at all.
            Stop cutting the cake in half.  Stop cutting the brownies that were already one inch square into quarter inch crumbs.  While it is true that there is more depth in even a half inch of God's Word than any other book ever written, He expects us to want to pig out on it, not get as little as possible!  And He expects our lives to be as full as the cup of blessings He gives us every day—full and running over.  Wouldn't you hate for Him to cut that in half?
 
What shall I render to the LORD for all his benefits to me? I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the LORD, I will pay my vows to the LORD in the presence of all his people (Ps 116:12-14).
 
Dene Ward