Keith was fiddling with the campfire while I stood behind him shivering.  A pile of twigs lay over two slivers of lighter wood to which he held a match.  Black smoke curled up from the charred wood, which flared briefly then died out—over and over and over.  Suddenly one of the twigs caught and began to burn.  A few minutes later the lighter wood beneath finally began to burn, its thick oily flame blazing brightly.
            “Now that’s something,” he muttered, “when the twigs catch faster than the lighter.”
            Not many are familiar with lighter wood any more.  Also known as pitch pine, this wood contains a high concentration of resin.  The smell is often overpowering, as if you had soaked it in lighter fluid.  When you watch one of those old movies, the torches the mob carries are pieces of lighter wood.  You can’t light a piece of wood with a match—not unless it’s lighter wood, which lights up instantly, like a kerosene-soaked corn cob.
            Except the piece Keith was using that morning.  We had left behind the warmth of an electric-blanket-stuffed double sleeping bag and crawled out into a crisp morning breeze on an open mountaintop, the thermometer next to the tent barely brushing the bottom of thirty degrees.  We needed a fire in a hurry, but what should have been reliable wasn’t, what should have been the first to solve the problem had itself become the problem.
            As I pondered that the rest of the day, my first thought was the Jews’ rejection of Christ.  Sometimes we look at Pentecost and think, “Wow!  Three thousand in one day!  Why can’t we have that kind of success?” 
            Success?  I’ve heard estimates of one to two million Jews in Jerusalem at Pentecost.  Even if it were the lesser number, out of a specially prepared people, 3000 is only three-tenths of one percent—hardly anyone’s definition of “success.”  Here are people who had heard prophecies for centuries, who then had the preaching of John, and ultimately both the teaching and miracles of Jesus, people who should have caught fire and lit the world.  Instead the apostles had to eventually “turn to the Gentiles” who “received them gladly.”
            And today?  Does the church lead the way, or are we so afraid of doing something wrong that we do absolutely nothing?  Have we consigned Christianity to a meetinghouse?  Do our religious friends out-teach us, out-work us (yes, even those who don’t believe in “works-salvation”), and out-love us?  Do we, who should be setting the world on fire, sit and wait for someone else to help the poor, visit the sick and convert the sinners, then pat ourselves on the back because we didn’t do things the wrong way, while ignoring the fact that we didn’t do anything at all?
            And, even closer to home, do we older Christians lead the way in our zeal for knowing God’s word, standing for the truth, yielding our opinions, and serving others, or must we be shamed into it by excited young Christians who, despite our example, understand that being a Christian is more about what we do than what we say?
            It’s disgraceful when the twigs catch fire before the lighter wood.
 
And let us consider how to stir one another up to love and good works, Heb 10:24.
 
Dene Ward
 

You’d think that I could remember who said that to us one evening while we sat studying the Bible in his home.  You’d think I could remember where he drew the line that kept him from serving the Lord.  It isn’t often you find someone that honest.  Most people offer excuses instead.  They understand that they are telling God they are not willing to sacrifice for him.  In fact, they will usually make a list of everything they have done before adding, “But that’s just asking too much.”  What they fail to see is that if they are willing to give it up, it isn’t a sacrifice.  The sacrifice comes when you don’t want to give it up; the sacrifice comes when it hurts. Serving God is not supposed to be “painless.” 
            Too many of us believe that just because we got up, dressed up, and drove to another location instead of sitting there having "television church" that we are sacrificing for the Lord.  We will sit in the meetinghouse on Sunday morning.  We will even sit for the full two or three hours, whatever our group has chosen.  Just exactly what have we given up?  Sleep?  Another day of fishing?  A little more yard work?  Doesn’t sound like much of a sacrifice.
            Many will alter their lifestyles a bit.  What have they given up?  Hangovers?  Gambling debts?  STDs?  If you aren’t stupid, that’s another easy sacrifice to make.  It only becomes difficult when the dependency has developed.
            What we steadfastly refuse to give up is ourselves. 
            Can we admit wrong?  Can we yield to others?  Can we toe the line, even when the thing in question affects us individually?  It’s much easier for the non-music lover to give up instrumental music in the worship.  Trust me.  I know.  It’s much easier to abide by the Lord’s words concerning marriage when you have a solid relationship, and when your children have also chosen well.  It’s much easier to serve when you actually like the people you are serving.  Yet ease is the very thing that makes it not much of a sacrifice.  The true sacrifice comes when, instead of twisting scriptures to suit ourselves and frantically searching for loopholes, we do what hurts.
            The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise, Psalm 51:17.  Pain is what makes a sacrifice sincere.  Humble repentance that involves giving up selfish desires and yielding to others who do not deserve it are the most difficult sacrifices to give, and therefore, the ones that God wants most to see in us.  Until we manage that, anything else we do in service to God is a sham, no matter how beautifully we sing, how generously we donate, or how knowledgeably we teach.
            When Jeroboam became king of the northern 10 tribes of Israel, in spite of God’s promise to him of a lasting dynasty if he only obeyed, he looked at those fickle people and said, “I know exactly how to keep them here.”  He made it easy to serve God.
            And Jeroboam said in his heart, Now will the kingdom return to the house of David: if this people go up to offer sacrifices in the house of Jehovah at Jerusalem, then will the heart of this people turn again unto their lord, even unto Rehoboam king of Judah; and they will kill me, and return to Rehoboam king of Judah. Whereupon the king took counsel, and made two calves of gold; and he said unto them, It is too much for you to go up to Jerusalem: behold your gods, O Israel, which brought you up out of the land of Egypt. 1 Kings 12:26-28.
            “It’s asking too much,” he told them.  “Let me make it easy for you.”  And just like that, the people in the north left the God who had delivered them from slavery, defeated their enemies, and provided all their needs. 
            What is it that Jeroboam would offer you?
 
But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ, Philippians 3:7-8.
 
Dene Ward

I suppose it’s because of our age.  Or maybe it’s because we have lost all four of our parents.  We are the ones at the top of the escalator now.  No one in our immediate family stands between us and eternity.  We have just lost the last of my mother's siblings and only Daddy's baby brother is left.  All things being equal, we will be next to step off on the upper floor.
            Maybe that’s why we have spent a lot of time lately looking through old photographs.  What did we find?  Dogs and cats from puppy- and kitten-hood to grizzled muzzles and bent old bodies, baseball teams, science projects, birthday parties, and Christmas presents; old friends and their young children, who are now grown up like ours; school pictures of the boys, all the way to college graduation; even a few pictures of a couple of kids in 70s polyester, freshly married, with lots of hair and far skinnier than I thought possible.  Occasionally we looked at a picture of a toddler and said, “Are you sure that isn’t Silas?  Or Judah?”  Those always made us smile.
            We also found pictures of the old place from back when we first arrived.  A before and after picture probably wouldn’t do the monumental amount of work we did justice.  We turned an old watermelon field into a homestead.  Sometimes I wonder what will happen thirty or forty years from now.  Will someone else enjoy my jasmine vines and eat my muscadines?  Will they exclaim over the profusion of volunteer black-eyed Susans and the heat-hearty crepe myrtles?  Will they build a better house up under the oak grove in the middle of the property, just west of the firepit?  I used to dream of the time we could do that ourselves, but it will obviously never happen.
            One thing that surprised us the most were the live oaks.  When you see something every day you don’t notice how much it grows.  I have always thought of those trees as huge, but now they are twice the size around that they were 40 years ago, and many feet taller.  If I hadn’t looked at those pictures, I might never have noticed.
            Sometimes we do that to our brethren.  We tar them with a brush based upon their behavior decades before and never give them any credit for improving.  Can there be anything more discouraging to a brother in Christ? 
            Think today of your various brethren and how you would describe them to someone else.  What exactly are you basing that description on?  Something that happened yesterday, or something that happened twenty years ago?  Are you giving them any credit for growth?  “Judge righteous judgment,” Jesus reminded his disciples in John 7:24.  This poor judgment isn’t just a careless mistake of no consequence; it’s a matter of righteousness. 
            Maybe today would be a good time to reassess our opinions of our brethren.  Throw out the old photographs and take a new one.  Maybe—just maybe—they will do the same for us.
 
He who justifies the wicked and he who condemns the righteous:  both of them alike are an abomination to Jehovah, Prov 17:15.
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.
 
When Jesus was casting out demons, some said that he did so by the prince of demons (Lk 11:14-26). First, Jesus answered them logically, if that is true, then the kingdom of Satan is in a civil war and cannot stand. Next he attacked with what does that say about your sons? (We know of at least 82 who had this power). Finally, he reveals his mission and the purpose for casting out demons. He has come to tear down Satan's house and take all his possessions and power.
 
Then, he challenges with the consequences of what we decide about his mission. First, He leaves no middle ground: One is either for him or against him. Getting rid of your demons leaves your house empty. He demands you be filled with him to prevent the return of worse demons. As stated later in the context, "If your eye be single, your whole body shall be full of light (11:34).
 
Obviously, this leaves the long ago baptized, pew sitting church member in serious jeopardy! Further, one cannot be 80% or 90% for Jesus. We are either empty or full. As Jesus said in 16:13, "You cannot serve two masters…You cannot serve God and mammon" (mammon = yourself, security, possessions, etc.).
 
As adamant as Jesus was about this all or nothing commitment to him, we are not surprised to find the Apostles living and preaching the same. Though all the New Testament teaches us to put away wickedness in every form, it appears that more space is giving to filling ourselves with right things than exorcising our demons, whether they be addictions, sexual fantasies, greed, ambition, etc.
 
"Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts…Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly." (Col 3:15-16).
"Which is Christ in you, the hope of glory" (Col 1:27).
"No more I that live but Christ lives in me" (Gal 2:20).
"Present your bodies …holy, acceptable to God" (Rom 12:1-2).
"The fruit of the spirit is…" (Gal 5:22-24).
"Add to your faith virtue…..if you do these things you will never stumble" (2Pet 1:5-11).
And these are only a few of such passages.
 
Paul encouraged Christians to follow his example in leaving all things behind in the pursuit of "the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus" (Phil 3:14). Doing "the best I can" leaves a swept empty house. Rather, we must stretch for all we can do through the help and grace of God.
 
Beware lest, through your lack of growth and lack of diligence and striving, you be filled with seven worse demons.
 
Follow after peace with all men, and the sanctification without which no man shall see the Lord. (Heb12:14).
 
Keith Ward

It was one of those recuperating days I have had so many of the past few years, so I sat in my lounger outside, the early morning autumn breeze ruffling my hair, a sweet little dog snuffling for a pat at my side, looking out over our domain, such as it is.  The east sun filtered through the woods fifty yards in front of me, not yet high enough to cause me any trouble. 
            I had carried a pair of binoculars to do a little bird-watching, but saw on the northeast corner of the property what looked like a giant orange bloom.  So I lifted those heavy lenses and got a surprise.  The bloom did not really exist.  What I saw was the sun shining on a clump of dried out pine straw hanging on a low, dead limb.  I pulled down the binoculars and looked again.  I much preferred the big orange bloom.
            Then I started looking around and saw some more.  The dull green leaves near the top of the tree glinted like small mirrors in the few rays of sun that had pierced through to them.  Even the gray Spanish moss resembled icicles.  I knew in a few minutes the effect would all be gone.  The sun would have risen high enough not to perform these magic tricks.  Still, it reminded me of something important.
            All by myself I am nothing, I can do nothing, and I have nothing to hope for.  But the light of the gospel changes everything.  Through that light, we are able to see the glory of Christ and believe (2 Cor 4:3-6.)  When we are raised from the waters of baptism, God’s glory gives us the power to walk “in newness of life” (Rom 6:4).  We transform ourselves into the image of His Son by the renewing of our minds (Rom 12:2, 8:29).  When the glory of the Lord shines on us through our submission to his gospel, what looks plain and ordinary becomes beautiful, what looks dead and repulsive becomes glorious.  That’s us we’re talking about—you and me.  We can be beautiful.
            Look at your life today.  Would someone see a beautiful bloom, a sparkling mirror, a glittering icicle?  They will only if you have allowed that light inside you, if you have let it have its way, transforming you into the person God meant you to be from the beginning.  Some will not do this.  They fight it, and offer excuses of all sorts.  “I’m only human after all.”  “No one is perfect.”  “Someone has to have common sense around here and not be such an innocent babe!” “It’s my right after all.”  None of those will give anyone a beautiful view of a child of God.
            Peter reminds us, As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, "You shall be holy, for I am holy." 1 Peter 1:14-16.  If we are not submissive to his will, we will never be transformed to his image.  We will look like nothing but dried out pine straw on a dead limb, and all the excuses in the world will never change it. 
            “What would Jesus do?” may be an old denominational catch-phrase, but is it any different than, “Be ye holy as I am holy?”  God desires nothing more than for us to be exactly like Christ, “conformed to the image of his son” Rom 8:29, “that you might follow in his steps” 1 Pet 2:21.  If you find yourself looking through the world’s binoculars and seeing nothing but your old self, the light of the gospel has not reached your heart.
            Conform yourself today.  In every aspect of your life, in every action you take, and every word you speak, “be ye holy in all your conduct.”  You can do it, or God wouldn’t have asked it of you.
 
But we all, with unveiled face reflecting as a mirror the glory of the Lord, are transformed into the same image from glory to glory, even as from the Lord the Spirit. 2 Cor 3:18.
 
Dene Ward

I’ve seen it all my life, everywhere I’ve ever been—a brand of false teaching that even the best of us participate in, that even the best of us fall prey to.
            Over and over we teach people to follow the examples of Herod and Herodias, of Ahab and Jezebel, of practically every evil king ever mentioned in the Bible.  We teach that example and we follow it ourselves.  The examples of Simon and David are left ignored, at least in that one area.  What am I talking about?  How to accept correction, how to appreciate the one who loves us enough to rebuke us or try to teach us better. 
            What did Simon the sorcerer say when Peter rebuked him? “Pray for me that none of the things that you have spoken may come upon me.”  Simon was only interested in being right before God, not in saving face or somehow turning the rebuke back on Peter because he was so angry or hurt by it.
            What did David say when Nathan stung him with the simple words “Thou art the man,” and followed it with a horrifying list of punishments, including the death of a child?  “I have sinned against the Lord.” And what did he do later?  He named a son after Nathan (1 Chron 3:5).  Every time he saw that child for the rest of his life, he was reminded of his namesake, the man who rebuked him and prophesied such devastating punishment.  All you have to do is read his penitent psalms to understand David’s attitude.  He was grateful to Nathan, not angry; heartbroken over his sin and joyful that God would even consider forgiving him.
            Simon and David set the bar high for us, a brand new Gentile convert and a king who could have lopped off his accuser’s head at a word. Yet how often are we counseled to follow their examples?  Instead, we are coddled by people who blame the rebuker for being so hard.  Never have I heard anyone say the kinds of things that Peter and Nathan said.  “Your money perish with you.”  “You are in the gall of bitterness and the bond of iniquity.”  “Your heart is not right before God.”  “You have despised the word of God.” 
            What examples do we teach instead?  We may not throw people into prison for their words as Ahab and Herod did, but we isolate them from others by spreading tales of “how mean they were to me,” allowing their name and reputation to be chewed up in the rumor mills.  We may not have them murdered as Herodias and Jezebel did, but we do a fine job of character assassination.  We follow faithfully in their evil steps and teach others to do the same when we pat them on the back and agree with their assessment of the one who dared tell them they were wrong.  In other words, we do it out of “love.”  I imagine Herod said the same as he turned the prison key on John, and then signed off on the death warrant.
            Why is this example of how to accept correction so neglected?  Why do we reinforce the examples of evil people instead?  Is it because someday it might be us receiving that rebuke?  Someday it might be our turn to feel the hot embarrassment spreading like a fire across our faces and the acid churning in our stomachs? 
            God meant us to love each other in exactly this way.  Brethren, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness, looking to yourself lest you also be tempted, Gal 6:1.  We all take turns at this.  We all need it.  And I have an important piece of information for you, one that should be obvious but apparently is not:  it never feels “gentle” when you are on the receiving end.  I have knocked myself out prefacing correction with “I love you” statements, with praise for the good in a person’s life, only to have to endure a cold shoulder for weeks or months or even years, only to hear later from others how “mean” I was.  I have also felt that sting of conscience when it was my turn to listen, and even when I knew the person speaking loved me.  But the good God meant to come from these things will be completely lost if all we do is tell the erring brother or sister that it’s just fine to be like Herod and Herodias.
            So you think this isn’t false doctrine?  Then tell me what it is to teach others to be like evil men and women.  Whatever you come up with, it still isn’t right.
 
My brothers, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and someone brings him back, let him know that whoever brings back a sinner from his wandering will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins. James 5:19-20.
 
Dene Ward    

Because of double sessions in the later years, I missed them in high school, but I did have one year in a small town where grades 7-12 were packed into the same school.  Every Friday afternoon during football season, our three afternoon classes were each cut 10 minutes short so we could meet for the final thirty minutes of the day in the gym, cheer with the cheerleaders and their shaking pompoms, clap along with the band until our eardrums nearly burst and our hearts beat in rhythm with the bass drums, and get a gander at those beefy young men—16, 17, 18 years old, bigger than even my own daddy.  As a chubby frizzy-haired 12 year old, it was the closest thing to a riot I ever experienced.  We all yelled and screamed and applauded and hooted at renditions of the opposing team mascot.  We were going to win, we were sure, and we screamed, “We will WIN, WIN, WIN, WIN,” till we all went home hoarse and hyped up on school spirit.
            Sometimes we won, sometimes we lost, but we all showed up again Monday morning, bleary-eyed and less than thrilled to be in our first classes of the day, a long week ahead of us and all thought of football and “Our Great School!” a distant memory.  Pep rallies have their place, but if emotion is all that keeps the spirit going, it isn’t much of a heart is it?
            Elijah found that out on Mt Carmel.  Everyone pictures this great contest as his ultimate victory, perhaps the biggest in the prophet’s life.  They forget to turn the page in their Bibles. 
            Yes, the crowd saw an amazing miracle.  The prophets of Baal called all day to a deaf god made of metal, shouting his name over and over and over.  They tried to get his attention with loud cries, with dancing and with self-mutilation.  No one answered. 
            Elijah on the other hand, made the request as difficult as possible, soaking the sacrifice and the wood and filling up a trench with water till it overflowed.  Did you ever wonder what those poor three-year-drought-stricken people thought as all that water ran off onto the ground?  But none of it mattered when Jehovah sent fire from Heaven that licked it all up in a flash, and consumed the sacrifice—after just one call from Elijah.
            Then the pep rally began in earnest.  The people fell on their faces and said, The Lord, he is God.  The Lord he is God, 1 Kgs 18:39.  Can’t you hear it now?  The chant probably continued on, over and over and over, louder and louder, as Elijah called for the prophets of Baal and slew them all.  The exhilaration he felt must have been amazing.  “We did it, Lord!” he must have thought.  “Finally your people realize there is no God like Jehovah, and they will worship you again.”
            Turn the page. 
            Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah, saying, "So may the gods do to me and more also, if I do not make your life as the life of one of them by this time tomorrow." Then he was afraid, and he arose and ran for his life...1 Kings 19:1-3.
            Our assemblies have a small element of the pep rally in them.  It is good to cheer one another on, in the same way the men of Antioch laid their hands on Saul and Barnabas, prayed, and sent them on their first preaching trip, Acts 13:1-3.  It is wonderful to encourage a weak soul who has come to us for help.  It fills the heart to sing praises to God and to commune with one another around the Lord’s Table.
            Yet Paul does not spend much time on that emotional aspect of our assemblies in 1 Cor 14, about the clearest picture we have of a first century assembly.  Instead, his constant reminder is “Let all things be done unto edifying,” v 26.  It is, he said, the only thing truly profitable, v 6.  Paul understood that the pep rally aspect of an assembly wouldn’t last beyond the echo of the amen, but good solid teaching would carry one through life.
            If your idea of “getting something out of the services” is that excited, heart-pounding feeling that comes with emotion instead of deeper insight into the Word of God through good teaching and hard study, you are stuck in high school.  Mature people can remain motivated without the hype.  The understanding wrought by hours spent with God in quiet runs deep in their hearts. It keeps them encouraged when times are rough, wise when Satan does his best to deceive, and controlled when temptation pulls every string and pushes every button.
            Pep rally religion doesn’t last, but the Word of God in one’s heart abides forever.
 
Let us know; let us press on to know the LORD; his going out is sure as the dawn; he will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth." What shall I do with you, O Ephraim? What shall I do with you, O Judah? Your love is like a morning cloud, like the dew that goes early away...For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings...If you abide in my Word, you are truly my disciples,  Hosea 6:3-6; John 8:31.
 
Dene Ward

I can remember my daddy uttering those very words every time we pulled up to what was then called a “service station,” a glassed-in office with two service bays and usually two gas islands, sporting regular, premium and mid-grade pumps, the older models rounded on the top and the newer ones square-cornered and squat.  An attendant came out of one of the bays, summoned to us by the double-ding of the bell hoses we ran over with both front and rear tires, usually wiping his hands with a greasy blue rag, and did the honors while we sat in the car waiting.  He also checked the water in the radiator and battery, and cleaned the windshields.  When the pump kicked off, he carefully finished filling the tank and then bent his head to the open window to tell us the amount we owed.  If we paid cash, he brought back change.  If we used our gas company credit card, he took it and ran it, bringing back a dark blue clipboard with slip attached and a pen for a signature.
            Unlike today's self-serve stations, we never left the car, never lifted a finger.  It was all done for us.  Maybe that’s why we seem to expect God to “fill ‘er up” without having to make any effort at all ourselves.  Maybe that’s what we’re thinking when we sit in our pews on Sunday morning—we’re expecting the teachers, song leaders, and preachers to “fill ‘her up.” 
            “I didn’t get anything out of services this morning,” we say, as if that were the only purpose to our being there, to allow others to wait on us just like an attendant at an old-fashioned service station; as if that were the only possible way to fill oneself up spiritually.
            Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled, Matt 5:6.  Do we really think that righteousness can be poured in like gasoline, that we can sit passively while it happens?
            John tells us, Whoever practices righteousness is righteous, 1 John 3:7.  Being filled with righteousness has far more to do with what I do anywhere else besides a church building than it does with listening to a sermon and expecting to walk away holy because of it.
            God also expects us to fill ourselves with knowledge.  Anyone who thinks that comes from osmosis on Sunday mornings as we doze in our pews or play with the babies in front of us had better not apply for a school teaching job any time soon. You won’t keep it long.
            Paul says, And so, from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God, Colossians 1:9-10.  Becoming knowledgeable takes work far above and beyond listening to a couple hours a week of sermons and Bible classes.  Making it stick means applying what you learn, “bearing fruit” as you put that knowledge into practice.
            But others have the problem of which tank to use.  They seem satisfied with “regular.”  Since my daddy worked for Gulf, we always went to Gulf stations.  “Regular” was called “Good Gulf” and premium was called “Gulftane,” a play on the fact that the octane was higher.  A soul created in the image of God requires nothing less than premium.
            I read a book once in which the writer was at a loss to know how to refill herself after giving so much to marriage, children, and society.  Her problem was thinking she could do it herself, with things that have no eternal existence and purpose.  She was trying to fill up on “regular.”   Christians know better.
            May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope, Romans 15:13.
            “Fill ‘er up,” we used to say to the gas attendant.  Far more important, we should say it to God, and then do our part as He fills us to the brim.  It’s the only way to keep your life from running on empty.
 
And it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God, Philippians 1:9-11.
 
Dene Ward

[Charlene Warren is an old friend who just recently lost her husband Rick.  She posted these words on Facebook a few months afterward and I was astounded at her wonderful attitude.  I will always try to remember this perspective should I someday become a widow.  I hope it will also help the widows out there who are struggling.  I am publishing this with Charlene's permission.]

I remember when Leslie [her oldest daughter] first left for college. There were things those of us still at home wanted to participate in, and I would think, "Oh, but Leslie isn't here to do that with us, we should wait." Then, I learned about all of the new friends she was making, and activities she was participating in daily, and at night as well. So then I realized she was busy and having the time of her life at Florida College, and I just started letting our lives go ahead and do things without her being here. It felt weird at first, but we did it.

This morning I remembered about that. Rick is having the best time of his life now, and we can go ahead and do things without him here, and whatever we do would only pale in comparison. When we sing at church, and it sounds "the best this side of Heaven" I think how magnificent the singing is that he is participating in, in Heaven. No more cancer, no pain, and he can get around like everyone else does in Heaven. I see new construction going on that he would have taken notice of, and think to tell him, and then I am reminded that this stuff on earth no longer would be interesting to him at all. How blessed he is to know now what Heaven truly is like, and to hug the neck of Jesus.

Lord come quickly!!!
Charlene Warren

Today's post is by Joanne Beckley in which she shares an essay by Lucy Green.

Whether it is a broken doll, lost good health, or the loss of a husband, we all must suffer great disappointments as we walk through this life here on earth. But I think for every married woman, it must be the loss of her husband that is her biggest challenge.
 
God knows this and has filled his Word with how we are to care for our widows and how the widow is to face her loss. Notice the numerous commands and admonitions: Deuteronomy 24:17-22; 25:5-10; Matthew 15:3; Eph 6:1; 1 Tim 5:4,14
 
But I want to shift this lesson away from our own responsibilities toward widows and focus on the widow herself. Whether married or unmarried, we all face the reality of living alone, now or in the future. But for the married, the death of a spouse carries additional pain and it is this pain that must be accepted and worked through.
 
Since I have yet to face this possible pain, I want to refer you to a short article by Lucy Greene. I came across it a number of years ago and thought it wise to file it away for the very real possibility that I too might find myself in her shoes. As you read this, you may even now be in her shoes. Hopefully this article can help you. I pray it is so.
 
“I became a widow twenty-two months ago. I say twenty-two months just like I did when my babies were little. You never have a twenty five month old, but up until that two year mark you count time in terms of months. Unlike having babies grow with those busy days passing quickly, these months have been an eternity.
 
I never wanted to be a widow, nor the pioneer widow of my peer group, but here I am. Even so, what I am learning and experiencing will smooth the way for those who come after me, though no individual journey is the same.
 
I want to grow older gracefully, but there’s been nothing graceful about the stages of grief that I’ve experienced. Some days I’ve felt at the mercy of unplanned and unexpected waves of emotion that come out of the blue and zap me at the most inconvenient moments. Sometimes it’s even been hard to pray. Somewhere on my journey, I was surprised to realize that I was indeed living in the past and missing the blessings of the present. Intellectually, I knew that was not a good way to live, but I hadn’t recognized it for what it was. My friend observed that I wasn’t letting go, and I thought about that deeply and seriously.
 
Treasuring the past and it’s memories, being thankful for our past blessings and relationships is right and important, but longing for what we no longer can have instead of looking for the joy and opportunities of TODAY is an exercise in futility, and does interfere with our aging gracefully. I am realizing that acceptance of one’s circumstance in life is a quality one must learn as we grow older. It puts us in a better frame of mind for facing so many of the less desirable outcomes of aging.
 
So many things are beyond our control and not the way that we had pictured them. Aging of our bodies, changing financial circumstances, passing of friends and relatives, changes in living arrangements--- to name a few. If we can accept physical appearance, aches and pains, poor health as we age and know that “though our outward man perish, the inward man is being renewed day by day,” (2 Corinthians 4:16) we can be serene when we look in the mirror or try to get up out of a chair. Dependence on God and trusting Him with the future is the key to acceptance. Paul said that he had learned to be content in whatever state he found himself (Philippians 4:11.)
 
Acceptance brings contentment. Contentment is defined as “an uncomplaining acceptance of one’s lot.” You might not like what’s happened to you, but accepting that situation says, “This is the way it is. It’s going to be OK. God will take care of me. I can live with this.” Hebrews 13:5 says, “Be content with such things as you have for he said, ‘I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee’.” In 1Timothy 6:6 we are told that godliness with contentment is great gain. May we adopt that thought as our goal as we strive to age gracefully."  Lucy Greene
 
Although I am not a widow, I can appreciate her pain, and her needs. I can be there for her, if she so desires. But where I may fail in my attempts, she will always have her Lord, her defender and friend.
 
Psalm 68:4 Sing to God, sing praises to His name; Extol Him who rides on the clouds by His name YAH, And rejoice before Him. 5 A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows, Is God in His holy habitation. 6 God sets the solitary in families; He brings out those who are bound into prosperity; But the rebellious dwell in a dry land.
 
The widow is not alone. She can accept her lot in life and find contentment in her Lord, facing forward with each new day.

Joanne Beckley