We live on wooded property—spreading live oaks, pencil straight slash pines, red and silver maples, fast-growing sycamores, sweet gums with their spiky balls, wild cherry and water oaks, both of which will split and fall at the least breeze.  When I walk Chloe around the perimeter I dodge fallen limbs, both deadfall and green, every ten feet or so.  Sometimes I find larger limbs that have fallen overnight, and once one fell right in my path just seconds after I had passed. 

 Often in the night, especially a windy one in the spring or fall as fronts pass through, I hear limbs hit the roof.  They are surprisingly loud and I awake expecting to find something large and heavy only to waste Keith’s time as he climbs the ladder to discover a two foot long twig no bigger around than his thumb.  It certainly sounded bigger than that!

 A few months ago, after a particularly windy winter storm, Chloe and I came upon a fallen pine limb, three feet long maybe and about two inches in diameter.  This one, though, was not lying on the ground.  The wind had cast this one with enough force that it had stuck straight into the ground through the sod.  I pulled it out and a full six inches of it was below the surface.  Imagine if that one had come hurtling through the sky at me as I walked by.

 Words are a bit like fallen limbs.  You never know who they will hit and how.  We are often just as careless as the wind in hurtling them about.  We may think the only one who hears is the one we are addressing.  We may think that everyone knows us and understands how it is meant.  We may think that what was said was perfectly innocent and completely impossible to mistake for something bad.  We may be very wrong.

 Yes, people need to listen with as much charity as we need to speak.  The Bible, particularly the wisdom literature, is full of cautions not only about how we speak but how we listen.  Even Jesus said, “Take heed how you hear.”  Hearing involves maybe as much responsibility as speaking. Do not take to heart all the things that people say, lest you hear your servant cursing you. Your heart knows that many times you yourself have cursed others, Eccl 7:21,22.

 But just maybe we could stand to be a bit more careful in our speaking.  Words can hurt, and unlike physical wounds, may never heal.  What sounds like a twig to us may sound like a massive branch falling on the roof to the hearer.  And a multitude of the same kinds of words has an effect that is hard to erase.  What kinds of words do I use the most?  Praise or criticism?  Thanksgiving or complaining?  Encouragement or rebuke?  Tough love is necessary and is necessarily painful, but do I ever practice any other kind?  Are all my words, or even just the majority, “tough?”  And am I proud of having that sort of reputation?  Do people cringe when they see me coming?

 Those things I can control, but what about the things I say that are not meant to harm, but still manage to do so?  What about things I toss off without thought, directed at no one in particular, but that, like a fallen limb, accidentally come close to someone else’s heart?  Yes, for those who are mature, we can go back to the responsibility laid on hearers in that Ecclesiastes passage and in Jesus’ and the apostles’ words about being quick to judge, but what about the perfectly innocent babes?  What about young impressionable Christians? 

 If I shoot a gun into the air, the bullet will land somewhere, and my having shot it will make me accountable to the law of the land.  Will God’s law hold us any less accountable for the spiritually injured? 

I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned, Matt 12:36,37.

Dene Ward

A few Sundays ago the chill weather made it possible for me to wear my best suit, one a little heavier than anything else I have, one a little more expensive, but a hand-me-down from a friend.  We stopped at the grocery store on the way home to pick up a couple of limited time specials.  That’s one way we stay financially afloat—picking up specials when we are already the thirty miles into town for assembly.

 So we were loading the trunk and as she passed, a stranger said to me, “That’s a lovely suit.  You’ve been to church, haven’t you?  I apologize for being nosy, but would you mind telling me where you attend?”

 Would I mind?!  Of course I spent the next five or ten minutes telling her where I attend, when we meet, who we are, and what we do.  Then I handed her a blog card and pointed out my contact information in case she had more questions.  “Please email me or just call.  I can give you more detailed directions,” I finished with.

 I know a lot of people who no longer “dress up” for church.  They certainly have that right.  But I know a lot of others who go even further—who tell those of us who grew up doing it that we are wrong, that we are trying to be Christians on the outside instead of the inside.  I have yet to figure out why wearing my good suit on Sunday makes me a hypocrite any more than someone who thinks sitting on the pew in jeans on Sunday then dressing up for the boss all week makes him a Christian. 

 In fact, tell me this.  If you were this woman and you were searching, who would you ask on a Sunday around noon at the grocery store—the guy in shorts, tee shirt and flip-flops or the man with a tie on?  The lady with a dress on or the one with cut-offs and an oversized shirt hanging over her waistline?  Maybe there is something to be said after all for making it obvious on a Sunday that you have been to church. 

 But then we have this point—it isn’t what you wear on Sunday that makes the Christian; it’s what you wear every day. 

 Put on therefore, as God's elect, holy and beloved, a heart of compassion, kindness, lowliness, meekness, longsuffering; forbearing one another, and forgiving each other, if any man have a complaint against any; even as the Lord forgave you, so also do you: and above all these things [put on] love, which is the bond of perfectness, Col 3:12-14.

 My neighbors need to see these spiritual clothes every day.  There can be no “dressing down” spiritually after you have “put on Christ” in baptism, Gal 3:27.  The people I work with, the people I go to school with, the people I come into contact with, especially on a regular basis, should know by my speech and my actions that “I went to church on Sunday.”  God won’t accept a “casual Friday” set of spiritual clothes any day of the week.

 I’ve had a great many things make people ask me questions—maybe that’s a good subject for another day, but it all boils down to this—I have to look different.  Whether it’s how I act, how I speak, how I run my family, or any number of ways, it needs to be obvious.  Let’s stop making judgments about one another’s literal clothes, and just go out there and show people who we are with the spiritual wardrobe of a child of God. 

The night is far spent, and the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light. Let us walk becomingly, as in the day; not in reveling and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to [fulfil] the lusts [thereof]Romans 13:12-14.

Dene Ward

Have you fallen prey to it yet?  You post something on Facebook and then sit back and wait.  You check it every five minutes at first, then maybe stretch it out a bit, and before you know it, you have sat there for an hour or two and what have you been doing?  Waiting to see if someone “likes” you.  Yes, the quest for popularity affects the masses, and many make use of that pathetic craving of ours. 

 After this Absalom got himself a chariot and horses, and fifty men to run before him. And Absalom used to rise early and stand beside the way of the gate. And when any man had a dispute to come before the king for judgment, Absalom would call to him and say, “From what city are you?” And when he said, “Your servant is of such and such a tribe in Israel,” Absalom would say to him, “See, your claims are good and right, but there is no man designated by the king to hear you.” Then Absalom would say, “Oh that I were judge in the land! Then every man with a dispute or cause might come to me, and I would give him justice.” And whenever a man came near to pay homage to him, he would put out his hand and take hold of him and kiss him. Thus Absalom did to all of Israel who came to the king for judgment. So Absalom stole the hearts of the men of Israel, 2 Sam 15:1-6.

 Absalom made everyone feel “liked” and that “stole their hearts.”  But Absalom wasn’t even the first.  In Judges 9:3 the people of Israel had “hearts inclined to follow Abimelech.”  Both of these men were wrong for God’s people and were eventually killed, but that didn’t stop the people from falling prey to what was “popular.”

 Do you think that hasn’t happened to you?  Why do you wear what you wear?  Why do you watch the television shows you watch?  Why do you go to the restaurants you do?  Whatever is popular at the time steals our hearts because we think that by doing the popular thing we will become popular.  The problem comes when that affects us spiritually.  If I am wearing clothing I shouldn’t because everyone else is, I need a stronger character.  If I am watching inappropriate entertainment, I need to remember who I claim to follow. 

 The people of Israel were taken in by what was popular over and over again.  Ezekiel tells us “their hearts went after their idols” and “covetousness,” 20:16; 33:31.  Jeremiah talks about them “going after the imagination of their hearts,” 9:14; 13:10.  And why did they do those things?  Not only because they were the popular things to do, but because falling in with the crowd made them popular too.  Simply put, you can’t be different and popular in the world at the same time.

 What is your heart going after?  If it’s popularity and wanting to be “liked,” then you are prey to popular evils just like 99% of the rest of the world.  God calls us to be different.  A Christian doesn’t need to be “liked” on Facebook or anywhere else as long as God “likes” him.

For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ,Gal 1:10.

Dene Ward

Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever!  Psalm 107:1

            Have you ever had a friend who made you wonder how you would be greeted and treated on any particular day?  Have you ever had a boss who one minute nominated you for employee of the year and the next left you in fear of losing your job?  Have you yourself ever woke up one morning and bitten everyone’s head off just for being alive and daring to smile?

            Moody people are difficult to deal with.  You never know how to act.  You never know what to say and not to say.  In fact, you do your best to avoid people like that if at all possible.  And when you recognize that you have done it to others, you loathe yourself for it.  It isn’t right; it isn’t fair; it certainly isn’t kind.

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

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

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

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

            Unwavering, eternal love—that’s what He gives, and that is what we should return. 

Love is patient and kind…it is not arrogant or rude. It is not irritable or resentful… 1 Cor 13:4-6.

Dene Ward

When my mother raised us, she always said, “I’m not running a restaurant.  You get what I serve,” and what she served was always fine with me.  I don’t recall a single bad meal.  Even recently I heard a television cook reminisce about coming to dinner as a child and eating what was put in front of her, so my family wasn’t weird, and neither was I when I followed suit as an adult.  It was as much about finances as anything else, but it certainly helped teach a few things, like, you don’t always get what you want in life and be grateful for whatever there is.

            But once in awhile I tried to please everyone as much as possible.  If the main dish was one boy’s favorite, then dessert was the other boy’s favorite.  It was the best of both worlds for them—a favorite entrée and a favorite dessert.

            Recently I have come up with a dessert that has to be the best of both worlds.  I haven’t decided whether to call it a cheesecake brownie or a brownie cheesecake.  It has two layers: a brownie bottom, and a cheesecake top.

            So, if you like chocolate and cheesecake, you can have both in one piece.  If you want chewy and smooth and creamy this is the dessert for you.  If you like chocolate and vanilla, this is even better than Neapolitan ice cream.  It’s even part convenience food and part “from scratch.”  The brownie layer is a mix and the cheesecake layer is all homemade.  A friend told me it’s perfect for her and her husband.  He has celiac disease, so he eats the gluten-free cheesecake layer and she eats the brownie layer.  Like I said, the best of both worlds.

            Now try to convince your neighbors that as a Christian you have the best of both worlds.  All they can see is what you can’t do and how much you sacrifice in time, energy, and types of entertainment.  Especially if all you do is complain about what you can’t do, ruing the messed up weekends, the missed ball games and picnics, what else do you expect?  You are supposed to make your life look like something they will want, not something they will hate.

            So perhaps we should start by convincing ourselves.  We don’t have to go to church; we get to assemble with our spiritual family.  We don’t have to dress differently; we get to look like decent, classy people instead of prostitutes.  We don’t have to give up drinking and smoking and drugs; we get to keep our dignity, breathe clearly, and preserve as many brain cells as possible.  We don’t have to give up revenge and gossip; we get to get along with people and stay out of trouble.  We don’t have to watch our language; we get to look like intelligent people with a real vocabulary.  We don’t have to give up status and money and things; we find our joy wherever we are in any situation—we have learned in whatever circumstances we are “to be content,” Phil 4:12, and contentment equals happiness.

            God does not expect us to be miserable in order to earn Heaven.  Being a Christian is not a horrible life.  It is a life of joy, a life of fulfillment, a life of health, a life of spiritual wealth.  I have more family than any of my neighbors.  One of them was amazed at the food brought during my surgeries, at the women who cleaned my house and the teenagers who raked the yard after Keith had a serious illness.  If I ever need help, I don’t have just one person to call, I have a whole list. 

            My marriage is intact and happy.  My children are happy, productive citizens, and servants of the Lord to boot.  We don’t have money problems because we don’t love things and don’t need luxury to be satisfied.  We don’t have legal problems because we are honest and law abiding.  We don’t lose our faith over our illnesses and disabilities because we have something far better in store for us.

            Which leads us to the next world.  If this life has been good—not perfect, for how could it be in a cursed world—the next one will be nothing short of amazing, an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fades not away, reserved in heaven for you,1 Pet 1:4.

            God promises us a “best of both worlds” life, far better than a “best of both worlds” dessert.  But He doesn’t make you eat it.  He gives you a choice.  You can have this world and the next if you do it His way.  Otherwise, this one is all you get.

For bodily exercise is profitable for a little; but godliness is profitable for all things, having promise of the life which now is, and of that which is to come, 1 Tim 4:8.

Dene Ward

If you want the mentioned recipe, click on "Dene's Recipes."

When I was very small, my favorite song was “Wake Up, Little Susie.”  I am probably dating myself with that admission.  In case you are from a different generation, the song was about a young couple who fell asleep during their movie date, and were afraid of what people might think. 

            Psalm 103 is David’s version of the song—one he is singing to himself.  Bless the LORD, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name! ​Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, vv 1-2.  I found it difficult to see that “wake up” admonition, I admit.  But every commentator I checked, five of them, saw it clear as a bell.  One likened it to Psalm 42:5:  Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.  That one is much easier to see.  Why are you so depressed, he asks himself, when you have the salvation offered by God?  Now look again at 103:  Bless the Lord…and forget not his benefits.

            For isn’t that exactly what we do?  We go along in our ordinary, normal lives, nothing important happens, nothing exciting happens, and we become complacent in our service and even a little despondent in our ordinariness, and forget what God has done for us.  But just think about this morning.  You woke up in your comfortable bed (check) in your comfortable house (check), possibly next to your beloved (check).  You ate a breakfast from a pantry and refrigerator full of possibilities (check).  You stood in front of a closet and chose from among all those clothes what you wanted to wear (check).  You might have gotten in your car (check) and driven to school or work or the store without mishap (check).  How many blessings is that already that you never even noticed?  How many more will you receive the rest of the day, and still not notice?

            “Forget not his benefits!” David reminds himself—and later on the people of Israel, and ultimately us.  Why is it that when something bad happens we will blame God, but never think to give Him credit for all the good we enjoy nearly every single minute of the day?  “Wake up and praise the Lord!”

            And then there is this:  while God gives us brethren to encourage us, David shows us that in the final analysis, we are responsible for our own rousing.  We cannot blame the church, we cannot blame the elders, we cannot blame our families if we fall into hopelessness and despair—it’s my business to see myself clearly, to notice when I need a nudge or a prod or even a kick in the rear.  And after I have awakened, then I will follow David’s example of leadership and wake others too. 

            Which is what this has been, I hope—wake up little Susie, or Joey, or Charlie, or Cathy, or whatever your name may be.  Do not forget the benefits of being God’s child.  Always count your blessings, no matter how trite that may seem.  David did.  He’s not a bad leader to follow.

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change, James 1:17.

Dene Ward

When our boys were in middle school we gave them a croquet set.  At first they seemed a little disappointed—croquet?  How boring.  Then we actually started playing and they discovered strategy, like whacking your opponent completely out of bounds with one of your free shots.  Now that was fun.

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

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

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

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

            I don’t have much sympathy for people who are easily bored, who seem to think that life must always be exciting or it isn’t worth living.  I am here to tell you that excitement isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  And God gave us plenty to do during those dull, routine times.  It’s called serving others and spreading the Word.  If you want some excitement, try that.  It’s even better than Ultimate Croquet.

Now concerning brotherly love you have no need for anyone to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another, for that indeed is what you are doing to all the brothers throughout Macedonia. But we urge you, brothers, to do this more and more, and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, 1 Thes 4:9-11.

Dene Ward

“Are you looking for a sign?  This is it!”

            We saw that on a highway somewhere when we were traveling, and under it the address of the local church.  I laughed then, but maybe it wasn’t a bad idea.  People are still looking for a sign, just as they were in Jesus’ day.

            I have heard a lot of talk about roadside signs in my lifetime, many of them negative, and I understand the concern.  The church is an undenominational entity and those signs, if they are not carefully worded, can teach things we are trying not to teach. But can I say this one thing about them?  Through the years, many people have shown up at various church doors where I worshipped because of the sign.  They remembered it from childhood.  Or maybe they remembered a neighbor who acted differently than their other neighbors, who helped their family when no one else did.  They remembered other neighbors, people who faced their own tragedy and came through it with a smile and faith intact.  Maybe they remembered the times that neighbor invited them to church and now they are in the middle of a crisis and they see a sign in front of a building that looks awfully familiar, one like the sign where their neighbor faithfully attended year after year no matter what was happening in their lives or in the world.

            That is certainly one benefit of those signs that people, including me, sometimes wish weren’t there any more, or were worded much differently.  But maybe this is what we need to concentrate on: that sign wouldn’t have done a thing in the cases I mentioned if the remembered people hadn’t been the kind of people they were. 

            Our lives are supposed to be the sign.  In a world where “Christian” can mean anything and everything, you should still be able to tell a genuine one by how he acts.  In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven, Matt 5:16.  If you really want people to be interested in your faith, then show them a faith worth being interested in.

            A lot of people in Jesus’ day wanted the other kind of sign.  What did Jesus have to say about that?  Then some of the scribes and Pharisees answered him, saying, “Teacher, we wish to see a sign from you.” But he answered them, “An evil and adulterous generation seeks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it except the sign of the prophet Jonah, Matt 12:38,39.  Jesus knew that a miraculous sign would do no good.  He said as much in the parable where the rich man desired Abraham to send Lazarus back from the dead as a sign to his brothers, but was told, “If they will not hear the Law and the prophets, they won’t hear if someone comes back from the dead.”  The sign on Mt Carmel ultimately did no good either.  The next morning Jezebel was still in power, able to threaten Elijah and send him running.

            No, the signs that really matter are the ones we act out in front of our friends.  Those are the signs that spark their interest and lead them to ask questions, signs that will eventually start them reading the Word of God and finding their way to Him.  Miracles didn’t work for Jesus, and he steadfastly refused to send a sign at their request.  Though he had done so many signs before them, they still did not believe in him, John 12:37.  What worked were his words and the life he lived, and that’s what works today.

            You are the sign people are looking for.  Word it carefully.

Only let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that whether I come and see you or am absent, I may hear of you that you are standing firm in one spirit, with one mind striving side by side for the faith of the gospel, and not frightened in anything by your opponents. This is a clear sign to them of their destruction, but of your salvation, and that from God, Phil 1:27,28.

Dene Ward

It’s one of those recipes you don’t really like to admit that you use, especially if you have a reputation for baking from scratch or cooking multi-course meals for your anniversary dinner, meals like a leek and Swiss chard tart as an appetizer, an entrée of veal shanks with sage over polenta with broccoli rabe, ending with pear croustade in a hazelnut crust.  Somehow this recipe doesn’t fit into that mold.

            But once in awhile life gets hectic, stressed, entirely too busy, and you find yourself needing a dish for a potluck with exactly one hour to cook it and no extra time for much prep.  So then I pull out this three can, two bottle, two bag recipe, dump it all in a pot and go on with my life.  I have learned not to let it bother me when this stuff gets more raves than another recipe I spent six hours on.  I have also learned not to tell anyone what’s in it until they taste it because it is truly a weird concoction, but oh, so good.

            Those Party Meatballs, as the recipe calls them, have been my salvation more than once.  Sometimes we need something easy instead of something elaborate.  If it meets the need and is just as tasty, who cares?  There will be plenty more times for elegant three layer cakes and brined, crusted. herb-infused entrees.

            God understands that, too.  When I was very young I thought you couldn’t pray except at certain times, using certain phrases, making sure it was long and full of heavy, theological words and concepts, usually from the King James Version.  Why I thought that I don’t know.  The Bible is full of examples of people praying in all sorts of situations, all sorts of postures, long prayers, short prayers, prayers of profundity and simple prayers of just a few words.  Maybe that was the problem:  I just hadn’t studied enough myself.  All I had done was listen to what others told me.

            Now I know better.  Now I know that in the middle of a crisis I can send up a quick prayer for control, for calm, for an easy resolution.  I don’t always need an opening salutation, I can just say, “Help me, Lord.”  I don’t have to preface everything with my own unworthiness.  Usually in the middle of a problem, that is already on my mind anyway and God knows it just as well as I do. 

            I don’t have to find a quiet spot alone.  I can talk to God in the middle of a milling crowd if my child has wandered off and I can’t immediately find him.  In fact, I can scream to Him if I want to.  God understands if there isn’t time to hunt up a closet right now.  In fact, He is more than pleased that I think of Him first in trying circumstances.  He is thrilled that my relationship with Him can be so spontaneous.  There will be other times for reverence.

            God makes it easy for you to talk to Him.  People who have set up word and posture requirements, with ideological notions of “propriety,” are the ones who make it difficult to approach God.  He went to a lot of trouble and pain and sacrifice to make Himself available at any time in any circumstance. 

            You may not want Party Meatballs all the time, but when the time is short and the need is urgent, they will do just fine.  We certainly need lengthy times of humility and reverence in our approach to God.  But God also made a simple way for us when we need Him quickly.  Don’t let anyone mess with His recipe.

May all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you! May those who love your salvation say evermore, "God is great!" But I am poor and needy; hasten to me, O God! You are my help and my deliverer; O LORD, do not delay! Psalms 70:4-5.

For the recipe accompanying this post click Dene's Recipes.

Dene Ward

I have a hard time seeing cobwebs.  Every so often, Keith will grab a broom, wrap an old rag around it and go around sweeping my ceilings, especially in the corners.  He always ends up with a rag covered in lacy, pale gray webs that had hung from the white ceilings, hidden from my less than perfect vision.

            A few weeks ago, after returning from a ten day trip that combined family visits with a speaking engagement, I was exercising on the porch steps and happened to look at the screen door.  Maybe because I was concentrating on my repetitious step routine instead of simply going in and out, I saw a thick layer of cobwebs wrapped around the automatic door closer.  I looked a little higher and more hung from the hinges.  Yet a little higher and both corners were strung with white.

            These were not small cobwebs.  They were several inches in diameter and so thick the black metal door looked as if someone had splashed white paint on it.  This is what I’m saying:  they were easy to see and had been there quite awhile yet I had missed seeing them.

            Here’s a question for you.  If cobwebs were dangerous in some way, poisonous perhaps, which would be the most dangerous, the ones you can’t see, or the ones you can? 

            Let me make that a little easier for you.  Those cobwebs that Keith gets down for me?  Before he retired I might not have seen them, but I knew they were there—cobwebs always hang from the ceiling.  When any special company was on the calendar, I always got the broom and brushed them down myself.  I knew where to brush whether I could see them there or not.  The cobwebs that hang all over the screen door as clear as day?  Those I never see because I never look for them.

            When we raised our boys we taught them several ways to avoid poisonous snakes.  One was to stay away from places they could hide, like wood piles and thick brush.  We also taught them to look for odd shapes and movement in the grass—the only way to see past their natural camouflage.  But on a cold sunny day, those things won’t be in some dark place, they’ll be right out in the open, basking on a sun-warmed rock or lying in the sun-baked field.  Which ones do you think are the hardest to see, simply because you aren’t looking for them in that place?

            Now think about the dangers in your spiritual life.  Which temptations are the most perilous, the ones you know to look for or the ones you don’t bother to look for?  Which of your faults are the most dangerous?  The ones you are trying to work on, or the ones you refuse to see?

            What’s the moral of the story?  Always be looking.  Don’t fool yourself with that psychological trick called denial.  It won’t make the snakes disappear.  It won’t make the poison less venomous.  You have an enemy who isn’t stupid.  He has great camouflage.  Sometimes he looks like a friend, sometimes he looks like a blessing, sometimes he even looks like you. 

            Do a daily character exam.  Look for the cobwebs in your soul.  Look where you see them and where you don’t.  Or get someone with better eyesight to do it for you, and then listen to them.  “That’s just how I am,” may be the biggest lie anyone ever got you to believe.  Blindness is not an excuse for sin.

For such men are false apostles, deceitful workmen, disguising themselves as apostles of Christ. And no wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light. So it is no surprise if his servants, also, disguise themselves as servants of righteousness. Their end will correspond to their deeds, 2 Cor 11:13,14.

Dene Ward