I grew up in Central Florida so I am familiar with houseflies.  We even had them in the winter.  After every annual Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner at my grandmother’s house, she pulled all the food to one end of the table, then carefully draped the other end of the tablecloth back over the bowls and platters for anyone who wanted to snack all day.  That way the flies couldn’t use the food as landing strips.
               When Keith and I moved to the country, flies became an ordeal.  Even with air conditioning, they manage to zoom in between door openings and closings, especially when, as was the case for several years, not twenty feet outside our back door lay a well-populated cow pasture. 
               What I was not ready for were yellow flies.  I had never dealt with a fly that bites.  The first time one landed for a snack, it left me with a hard, sore knot the size of a ping pong ball.  Keith tells me this is not the usual case, that I must be hypersensitive, but whatever is going on here I do my best to stay away from yellow flies.
               When I jogged, I always passed one place on the road where one particular yellow fly made it his business to give me grief.  He buzzed my head like a crop duster, and I am sure my pace increased to near world record speeds on that hundred foot stretch of highway every day.  I am also certain I looked pretty funny swinging and swatting away with both hands, but it was the only way to keep myself free of those painful welts.
               I thought of that fly chasing me down the road when I read this verse:  But as for you, O man of God…pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, and godliness, 1 Tim 6:11.
               Most of the time we focus on the things we are supposed to be pursuing in that passage, but did you ever wonder exactly how you should be pursuing them?  Like a yellow fly, as it turns out.
               And falling to the ground he heard a voice saying to him, "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?" And he said, "Who are you, Lord?" And he said, "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. Acts 9:4-5
               I did a little research into that word “pursue” and those are the verses that popped up.  “Pursue” is translated more than any other English word, more in fact, than all of the choices put together, as “persecute,” just as it is in Acts 9.  We are supposed to “persecute” all righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, and meekness.  What?!
               Just think for a minute about how Saul went about persecuting Christians.  He went from city to city.  He made appointments with the authorities to get what we might think of as warrants in order to put them in prison.  Then he testified against them to make his case.  Many times this persecution was “to the death.”  Once he finished in one place, he moved to the next, and to the next, and to the next.  Persecuting Christians was his life.
               How much of our lives do we spend trying to become more righteous, more godly, more loving, and all those other things that Paul says we should pursue?  How much time, how much effort, how much sacrifice do we give to it?  Or do we instead offer excuses for poor behavior we should have mastered years ago, for sins we refuse to overcome?  If we were pursuing righteousness the way Paul pursued—persecuted--Christians, if we spent our lives doing whatever was necessary to learn to love as we ought, if we “buffeted our bodies” to become more godly, if we spent the same amount of time bolstering our faith that we do soothing our egos or building our bank accounts, maybe those things wouldn’t be so difficult to chase down.
               When I think about being pursued by that pesky, persecuting yellow fly, I instantly understand what I should be doing to become a better disciple of my Lord.  Come out and visit some day and I’ll see if we can’t arrange the same experience for you!
 
Follow after (pursue, persecute) peace with all men and holiness, without which no one shall see the Lord,  Heb 12:14.
 
Dene Ward

Many years ago, I had to travel a thousand miles three different times to have sight-saving surgeries.  The hospital in that city had an arrangement with a nearby hotel that gave discounts to patients who had to stay a week or more.  On our first week-long stay, we found the accommodations nice and the free buffet breakfast above the usual in quality.  The waitress who served us was friendly and attentive.  We talked with her a few minutes nearly every time she stopped by with coffee refills, extra napkins, and other things we needed during the meal.
            The second surgery came six months after the first.  Once again we were there for a week, and surgery was on the agenda.  Our first morning, before we could say anything, the waitress popped out with, "I remember you.  You treated me like a person and talked to me.  Everyone else treats me like furniture."  We were flabbergasted; we really hadn't done anything special.  When we left the hotel restaurant, I left my purse sitting on the floor next to our table.  Back in the room, we discovered what I had done, and called the front desk.  "The waitress is on her way up to your room," we were told.  "She found your purse and asked for your room number."  We had not given her our name, but had mentioned the eye surgery, so that was how she described us and found us.  We opened our door, and sure enough, there she came walking down the hall.  We were not trying to get something out of being nice to someone, but it certainly paid off—all of our travel money was in that purse!
            A few years ago, Keith had to have a fairly serious and complex surgery.  He was in the hospital 5 nights and the surgeon had made arrangements for a private room so I could stay with him as a "medical necessity" to help him communicate due to his profound deafness.  When you don't feel well, the concentration required for lip-reading becomes next to impossible, and one cannot always wear over the ear hearing aids (the strongest ones) while lying in bed due to feedback from the pillow behind your head.  We never thought anything about how we were acting during those five nights and six days.  But on the fourth day, one of the nurses came in to say good-bye.  She would be off the next two days and we would be gone before she got back to work.  "I just want to know where you go to church," she said.  "You two are different."  Once again we were surprised.  Different?  How?  Because we treated the nurses like people, asked about them and their families, and actually said please and thank you.  "You would be surprised," we were told, "how other patients treat us--like personal slaves."
            We still are not sure exactly what we did in those two occasions except this maybe:  we are quick to spout, "Love your neighbor," but sometimes we don't know how to apply the rest of it, "Like yourself."  It's this—you treat them "as" yourself, and what are you?  A person, not a slave, not a robot, not an inconvenience or aggravation—a person, one who has feelings, rights, opinions, families, and the same sorts of problems you do, someone who deserves respect and consideration.  You train yourself to do that in every situation and then when circumstances are difficult, the kindness that has become second nature to you still comes out rather than a quick temper, irritation, ugly comments or name-calling.  You understand that you are part of God's plan to reach the lost and that means that even in a short moment of contact, you show them the love and grace and mercy that God has shown you. 
            I suspect most of you are doing this already. I learned it from my Daddy, who always made a point to know people's names and to ask about them and their lives away from whatever milieu he had found them in.  As this world becomes uglier and people are afraid to even look one another in the eye and smile, remember the Lord's oft repeated command.  Love your neighbor as yourself—as a human being—because that's what you were when someone found you.  You never know what might make a difference in a person's life, or in their hope of salvation.
 
If you really fulfill the royal law according to the Scripture, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” you are doing well. But if you show partiality, you are committing sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors. For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it (Jas 2:8-10).
 
Dene Ward

I almost didn't get it done today.  I just wanted to go lie down and rest after several hectic days that kept me going practically every minute.  Why?  Because it is difficult.  It hurts.  It's hot this time of year, and I get just plain nasty with sweat.
            But then I thought about why I do it in the first place.  Part of it is physical therapy for lumbar degenerative disc disease, a common malady among the elderly—it makes my back feel better.  Part of it is fighting back against some bad heart genes I have inherited.  Plus, it makes me stronger.  I can lift a bag of groceries, take heavy bowls out of cabinets, and get up and down from chairs a lot of easier.  Stiffness is always a problem with age and psoriatic arthritis, but I seem less stiff in the morning or at least get over it more quickly.  All of these are benefits, and so I did my work-out.  It will pay off.  All I have to do is become ill for a week, or have another eye surgery that means "no exertion" for a couple of weeks to see what would happen if I quit.
            Sometimes things like Bible study are difficult.  Sometimes you don't want to sit down for an hour and really engage your mind.  Sometimes you don't feel like praying.  Things in your life put you in a mood that is as far from a prayerful attitude as you can be.   Sometimes you don't want to go sit with people who are discouraging instead of encouraging, who ignore you, who say hurtful things because they have their own issues.  You want to stay away from that assembly as long as you can. 
            Then you stop and realize—those very people obviously need your help and encouragement if they are acting that way, the best place to get any sort of attitude adjustment is in the midst of God's people, and what seems like the worst time to pray may very well be the time you need it the most.  Let's be honest here:  there have been times when the only reason I was at the meetinghouse on Sunday morning was my obligation to God, not anyone else.  But that was exactly where I heard some pointed reminders about Christians serving others instead of self, and what Jesus puts up with in us.  Sometimes we are those clueless apostles time ten!
            So you go.  So you pray.  So you study.  And for that you become stronger and better able to handle life's trials.  You see better the depths of God's Word and what He has given us.  And your relationship with Him and the other people he has offered the same mercy and grace to becomes deeper and more meaningful.
            Remind yourself of those things today.  It's not about being comfortable and easy.  It's about sweat, determination, and making yourself do what you know you must, and being all the better for it.
 
For the righteous will never be moved; he will be remembered forever. He is not afraid of bad news; his heart is firm, trusting in the LORD. His heart is steady; he will not be afraid, until he looks in triumph on his adversaries (Ps 112:6-8).
 
Dene Ward
 

I was humming that old tune a few weeks ago when I suddenly thought of that phrase in a slightly different light.  “Tell me about it!” we sometimes say to people who are complaining about something, not realizing that we have had the same or worse experience.  Or sometimes people say it to us, and if we are as mature as we like to believe, we suddenly stop whining out of sheer embarrassment, realizing that here is not only one who has had the same experience, but to an even worse degree.  I often wish Jesus were here to say that to those who complain about his church.
            So they hurt your feelings?  They didn’t come see you when you were sick, they didn’t help you when you were depressed, they didn’t praise you in public after you did a good deed, the preacher preached a sermon that stepped on your toes, and you don’t like the way the Bible class teacher looked right at you when he mentioned a particular sin. 
            Tell it to Jesus.  No one complimented him on his sermons. They usually just got mad and walked away.  Even his own disciples scolded him for insulting the Jewish rulers.  They called him a liar, a blasphemer, a madman, demon-possessed, and a child of fornication, none of which was true.  He didn’t sit there pouting, he kept right on teaching, right on serving, even people who didn’t deserve it, like you and me.
            So the elders won’t listen to you, especially when you think you have discovered something new.  They won’t use you in the way you think you should be used.  You aren’t asked to lead the singing as often as you think you should, or teach the classes you think you should be allowed to teach.  They won’t give in to your pet ideas about how things should be said or done or presented.  So why should you bother to try any longer?  Why should you keep a good attitude, or do the things you are asked to do as well as you can when you aren’t even appreciated?
            Tell it to Jesus.  I found ten passages in the gospels where the people in charge “communed with one another” to see how “they might destroy him.”  At least seven of those ten were completely different events.  Has anyone in the church done that to you yet?  Has anyone taken up rocks to stone you?  Has anyone nearly pushed you over a cliff?  Has anyone even come close to crucifying you yet?
            No, but the church is full of hypocrites.  Why should I even have to sit in the same building with them?  Why can’t I just leave and do it my own way?  You know their two-faced worship isn’t acceptable to God, so why must I keep company with them? 
          Tell it to Jesus.  He never stopped attending the synagogues on the Sabbath, and that wasn’t even part of the Law, it was simply a tradition that had begun after the return from the captivity.  He still attended the feast days right along with all those horrible people, even the Feast of Dedication, which was just a civil holiday.  He never left the work God gave him to do because someone hurt his feelings.  He never quit because people didn’t give him the due he deserved.  He never allowed the sins of others to cause him to forsake the God who deserved his love and loyalty.
            Are you going to let those phonies do that to you?  If you do, doesn’t that make you one of them?
 
…The LORD is with you while you are with him. If you seek him, he will be found by you, but if you forsake him, he will forsake you. 2 Chronicles 15:2
 
Dene Ward

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