Men and women are different when it comes to directions.  Men want exact road names and exact number addresses.  Women?  We’re happy with, “Turn by the weeping willow and it’s the house with the closed-in carport.”  Even if I have been there before, Keith does not feel secure if he doesn’t have something more than, “Two roads past the firehouse and the next door neighbors have a yard full of crabgrass.”  I always thought it was my vision—I haven’t been able to read street signs in years, forget those numbers on the houses.  But no, all my women friends give directions exactly the same way:  turn left at the round-about and it’s halfway around the next curve where the honeysuckle blooms on the mailbox.  Can we help it if men can’t tell the difference between honeysuckle and plumbago?

              Funny how that also describes the difference in people spiritually.  Some people want a list.  Here, they seem to say, I’ve done this and this and this, so I ought to be all right.  Then there are others who go by what “looks right” or “feels right.”  I recently heard a young woman who has decided she wants to be a preacher say this: “When I walked into the room, I just felt at peace, so I knew God was saying that was all right.”  And this woman wants to preach the gospel?

              Just like you need a good balance of exact address and some helpful landmarks when following directions, maybe you need a good balance of exactly what is right and what is wrong plus the common sense to know when something just doesn’t “feel right.”  In Galatians 5 Paul ends that list of the lusts of the flesh with, “and such like,” and the fruit of the Spirit with, “against such there is no law.”  “Such” means he hasn’t listed every single thing, but if you are honest, you should be able to figure this out for yourselves.  It should be obvious to anyone with a normal IQ, he seems to be saying, but here is a list to get you started.

              “The Bible doesn’t say it’s wrong,” is an excuse as old as my grandparents at least.  I’ve heard it all my life.  It’s just an admission that the person doesn’t have the sense God gave a goose, the common sense He expects us to use when we are trying to determine His will. 

              You can’t check off your service to God as if it were nothing more important than buying groceries and you can’t tell Him it felt good so you fell for it, even if it did violate the plain words of scripture. 

              God gives us directions that are easy to follow—as long as you want to do His will.
 
If anyone's will is to do God's will, he will know whether the teaching is from God or whether I am speaking on my own authority. The one who speaks on his own authority seeks his own glory; but the one who seeks the glory of him who sent him is true, and in him there is no falsehood, John 7:17-18.
 
Dene Ward

On June 13, 2005, I was the Alpha patient, the first patient to receive a brand new type of intraocular lens that had not even been approved by the FDA.  I have several rare eye conditions and it was the only hope of saving my vision.

From my journal:
June 13, 2005, Monday—This is the big day.  “Terrified” pretty well says it all.  We began it with a prayer and that prayer continued on silently through the day for both of us. 

              We arrived early, expecting a wait, but they took me in early, after I signed some special consent forms upstairs.  Since the FDA had not approved this, “you will have to sign your life away,” the doctor told me, but what choice did I have?  I signed page after page, and then initialed some handwritten lines added up along the side of the form in the margin.  One of them said, “I understand that no one knows how this material will interact with human tissue.”  Then they sent me back downstairs to wait for pre-op. 

               We shared a long hug when they called my name.  Most folks were there for simple cataract surgery so I am sure that no one understood why we made such a big deal out of this, but it was possible that I would never see Keith out of that eye again, or the other one for much longer either.    
As usual with me, it took several tries to get an IV, along with a lot of pain and blood. 

               “You are a real challenge.”  First try, first bandage. 

            “Yep, you’re gonna be a REEEEAL challenge.”  Second try, second bandage.

              “Oh, I’m so sorry.”  Third try, third bandage.  “Let me go get the resident expert.”  She must have been, because she got it first try.

             They told me I would be in a “twilight sleep," that I would be able to respond but wouldn’t care and wouldn’t remember.  Famous last words.  I remember everything, including everything the doctor said as he worked.  Especially after they threw that sheet over my face.  The claustrophobia came in with a rush.  “You have oxygen, Mrs. Ward, you can breathe.”  Right.  Sure.  Someone must have accidentally turned it off. 

               Then the blue kaleidoscope show started, and at least I was no longer staring at what I knew must have been an inch thick, non-porous, air-tight wrap over my whole body.
 
             “We have full angle closure.”  Yikes.  Not good.  Maybe I should not have done so much research—I know too much.

              “Iris prolapse,” I heard next.  What?  This is what they said would abort the surgery, but Dr Osher kept going.

              “This is not small enough.  Give me another muscle hook.”  Now that’s not a pleasant thought. 

              “That’s too big.  Give me a smaller one.  No, not that one.  It’s still too big.  I want the (some number).” 

              Tug, tug. “I can’t get it.”  Tug, tug.  “Let me try the (some instrument).”  Tug, tug.  “Got it.”  Thank goodness, I was about ready to yank it out myself, whatever it was.

              “Now it’s time to make some decisions.”  Now?  What does he mean "now?"  Isn’t this a little late?

              “This is difficult.”  Amen.

              “Thank you, Lord.”  It was not the last time the doctor thanked God, nor me either.

              Assorted technical stuff and lots of video off, video on for the next two hours.

              “I’ve got Healon 5 (?) behind the lens.  (Flush, flush, flush).  This may be obsessive but I can’t leave it or she’ll have a capsular blockage.  I’m not going to use this on the other eye.  (Response:  Not at all?)  Can’t risk it.”

              “I’m putting in enough drops to float the Queen Mary.” 
After nearly three hours under that sheet, the light show stopped.

              I cannot see a thing with the right eye.  “Your eye will stay shut because of the anesthesia till sometime tonight.”  That explains that.  I did not even realize it was shut.

                My blood pressure is 170/98.  Terror will do that to you.
 
The things that go through your mind during a time like that always seem ridiculous when it's all over, but near-hysteria is another product of terror.  I think hearing everything he said, especially when he became agitated because things were not going well, made it worse.  He may have thought I was calm merely because I never uttered a sound until he asked a question, but I was just too petrified to move.
 
             Look through that again.  The thing he said that I remember best was, "Now it's time to make some decisions."  That came closest to making me lose it.  Isn't the middle of a first ever surgery a little late to be making decisions?  I learned later what he really meant.  This man was as ready for this surgery as he could be, staying late several evenings with a full surgical team to practice on pig eyes before he ever touched me.  He knew exactly what tools to use and the course of the procedure.  What he did not know, was how my 15 mm nanophthalmic eye would react when he placed the 50 diopter prismatic IOL inside it, and what he might have to do if something unexpected happened—like full angle closure or an iris prolapse.  He did not know how, or even if, I would be able to see afterward.  He very carefully explained that in clear, no-nonsense language the day before.  Yes, he was as ready as he could be.  There was nothing slapdash, hit-or-miss about it.  And due to all that preparation, he succeeded in saving my eyes for a while longer, accomplishing the same near-miraculous feat six months later with the left eye.

              How well do you plan for the major trials of your life?  That is exactly what each temptation is—just like a major and very dangerous surgery.  No, you cannot know exactly when it will happen.  No, you cannot know exactly how Satan will come at you.  But do you have a plan in place for defeating him?  Are you building a fortress around your soul with prayer, Bible study, and the fellowship of brothers and sisters who can help?  "If this temptation comes, this is what I will do," and then work on those very things.  Have you planned which passages to read, which hymns to sing, what words to pray, or who to call for encouragement?  Or are you going into major surgery with an unlicensed surgeon who flunked his anatomy test—are you counting on an unprepared you and only you?  I had a doctor who is considered one of the top five eye surgeons in the world and even he practiced!

              When the actual trial comes, it will hit you hard and fast and it will be far worse than you ever imagined it could be.  But how much worse will it be if you are not even a little prepared?  When you do not prepare to win, you have prepared yourself to fail.

              NOW is the time to make some decisions.  If you think you can just sit back and start operating and everything will be fine, you will lose your patient at the outset—and that patient is YOU!
 
For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works. (Titus 2:11-14).
 
Dene Ward

We started out in a ten by fifty trailer we bought from another Florida College Bible student couple.  They had moved on to his first full time work.  The next year we did the same and passed the trailer on to yet another.

              That first move put us in a little shoebox of a house that the small Midwestern church supplied for us.  It was far superior to the trailer, even though it only had one bathroom and the third "bedroom" wouldn't even hold a double bed.  The huge pantry more than made up for those small inconveniences, especially since there were only the two of us anyway.

              Another move, another church, and we actually bought the only truly nice house we have ever lived in—a three bedroom, bath and a half, family room with fireplace, brick home on a half-acre lot full of climbing roses, irises, azaleas and dogwoods.  But it wasn't to last.

              Three years later we were on to another church.  This one owned a brand new 24 x 60 doublewide with a large built-on utility room.  It was plenty roomy, if flimsy, with thin walls, leaky pipes, and a low ceiling that made it so hot in the summer you wanted to just crawl through it, especially in the narrow kitchen.

              The next house I have written about before, just a few weeks ago, in fact (see 8/29/2019 in the archives).  That one may be the most memorable for the freezing temperatures—inside, not outside--and the faulty wiring that gradually ate up our appliances.

              But for the past almost thirty-eight years we have been in this house—another double wide, not as large as the previous one, but much better built, and carefully tended and mended by us.  We never really thought we would still be here, but God has a way of making plans that are different from yours.  Another thing I always thought was that someday I would have the nice home my mother and sister eventually had, and that it seems most of my friends did too—and the Lord laughed once again.  But let me tell you what I have learned about that.

              This little 1300 sq ft box was good enough to keep me and my family warm and dry, at least when there wasn't an active leak.  It was good enough to raise my boys in, and they were never too ashamed to bring their friends, even after one of the bathtubs developed a crack in the bottom and you had to straddle it while you showered so you wouldn't fall through to the ground underneath.  (Yes, we finally got it fixed.)

              It was large enough to take in several weary travelers whose car gave up the ghost in the wee hours one morning.  It was good enough to hold more than a few Bible studies in.  It was good enough to show hospitality to probably a hundred or more brothers and sisters, neighbors, family, coworkers, and friends over the years.  It was good enough to host a shower or two, a church small group meeting, singings, and several other meetings of various stripes.  It has been plenty good enough to counsel struggling souls many times.  It has even been good enough to share with complete strangers who needed a hot meal and a place to stay.

              None of my guests ever complained about the small accommodations, sometimes not even a room to themselves but an air mattress on the living room floor or a pillow and blanket on the sofa, and a shower as small as an old-fashioned phone booth—one Superman could not have even turned around in, much less changed clothes.  None of them complained about the meals—and they weren't all great, let me tell you, especially in the early days.  None of them acted like they were anything but satisfied with what we had to share. 
 
             So remember this:  It does not matter how little you have to offer.  It does not matter how small, how plain, how uncomfortable your house is.  We once ate a meal at the home of a church widow whose kitchen was so small that by the time we put the extensions in the table, we had to take turns going around it to our seats, and if anyone needed to get out, everyone had to stand up and move out first.  That sweet lady was not a bit embarrassed because she was so thrilled that someone would actually take her up on her offer of hospitality.  Maybe that has always been in the back of mind as I considered my duty as a hospitable hostess.  Sometimes we have to do some skillful maneuvering around my table too!

              All you really need is a place full of love, a spirit of generosity, and a warm welcome.  Whatever you have is enough to fulfill the command to serve others.  Don't excuse yourself because you think you don't have what it takes in physical comfort and wealth.  And don't judge others so shallowly either.  I bet they would be thrilled to take you up on your offer.
 
Let brotherly love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. (Heb 13:1-2).
 
Dene Ward

Many, many years ago we rented an old frame house with rollercoaster wooden floors, leaky, drafty, fifteen foot ceilings, and, unfortunately, a bad wiring system.  We did not know about the faulty wiring until one by one our appliances started going out.  One of the last was the television, an ancient, secondhand model.  When its replacement blew the minute we turned it on, and the next, which had worked fine in the store, did the same, things began to fall into place—the electric skillet, the vacuum cleaner, the washing machine, and the electric mixer all had died in the week or two before.  A friend came with a voltmeter and we discovered that we were getting 145 volts in the 110 outlets and 290 in the 220s. 
 
           A call to the electric company brought an inspection.  It wasn’t the old wiring after all; it was the transformer, which meant the electric company was at fault and paid for all the appliances, at depreciated value, of course, but at least we had a little help.  I’ll tell you this, though—never since then have I had a mixer that could whip egg whites in ten seconds flat.

            Sometimes I feel like I need a little extra voltage, don’t you?  Life has its difficult moments, and it seems the older you are and the less strength your body has to deal with it, the more difficulty it must withstand.  But spiritually speaking, that should not be the case.  Age means experience, which means wisdom, which means things are handled better and more easily, right?

            Lucas recently repeated something he had heard from someone somewhere.  “Sometimes the discretion of wisdom is just the result of being too tired to act.”  I identified with the thought immediately.  I wonder how many times I have been complimented for my restraint in handling things when the momentary lag of weariness just gave me enough time to think first, or maybe when it just plain overwhelmed me enough to keep me still and out of trouble.

            I feel sometimes like I need a spark, that extra voltage that made a stiff meringue faster than I ever had before.  We all tend to become complacent, to take for granted the spiritual blessings we have, even salvation.  It usually shows in our anemic zeal and ho-hum worship.

            And we get tired of the fight.  Yet again someone has belittled the Word of God, or taken His name in vain, or simply treated sin as normal and anyone who thinks otherwise as a bigoted fanatic.  After fighting for God for so many years, feeling like we are making no headway at all in a world dominated by sin, we just sit back and let it happen.  What good will it do anyway?

            You never know.  More than once I have spoken out alone, only to suddenly find several others standing next to me—people who were too fearful to speak until they heard someone else.  I have found out, many days after the fact, that when I stood for the truth, or acted like a Christian is supposed to act in the face of mistreatment, that it helped someone else do the same later on.  And many, many more times, I have been the fearful one who was helped simply by seeing a warrior for righteousness take on Satan and his minions single-handedly.

            So take some spiritual vitamins today.  Pray, read the scripture, meditate in your break time, call a brother or sister and revel in their love—that’s why they are there, that’s why God gave us each other.  Put a jolt of extra voltage in your spiritual life and don’t give in to weariness.  You do make a difference for the Lord.
 
You are righteous, O Jehovah, and upright are your judgments.  You have commanded your testimonies in righteousness and very faithfulness.  My zeal has consumed me because my adversaries have forgotten your word.  Your word is very pure, therefore shall your servant love it.  I am small and despised, yet I do not forget your precepts.  Your righteousness is an everlasting righteousness and your law is truth.  Psa. 119:137-142.     
 
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

I was scanning a baseball trivia article called “The Odd Side of Baseball” by Gene Elston, and came across this story.  On May 23, 1895, the Louisville Cardinals forfeited a game to Brooklyn because they didn’t supply enough baseballs for the game.  They didn’t have enough baseballs for the game?  What kind of game did they think it was, tag?

            They began the game with three balls, two of which were used practice balls borrowed from the Brooklyn Bridegrooms, so by the third inning the balls were all too worn out to use.  Since the home team was obligated to provide them, that was that.  Brooklyn got an easy win.

            I have watched baseball for a few years now.  Even a late bloomer like me knows that those umpires toss out balls with the least little scuff mark on them, not counting the home runs and ground rule doubles that you lose into the stands, not to mention the free souvenirs tossed by generous outfielders several times an inning.  Even I know you need more than three balls to play a full nine inning game.

            All of which got me to wondering what we fail to supply while claiming to be Christians.  The obvious one is showing up for class or a sermon without a Bible, but how many of us also try to get through life without opening one?  How many of us try to fulfill our obligation to know the Word with a scanty chapter a day?  How many of us think we can keep a viable relationship with our Creator on three one minute graces a day before meals?  Sounds like starting a baseball game with three balls, two of which are in poor condition to begin with.

            But let’s think for a minute about the supplies God furnishes and see if that doesn’t give us a few more clues.  We are supposed to emulate our Father, after all.

            A little searching turned up eight passages describing God as “abundant in lovingkindness.”  Seven of those include the phrase, “slow to anger.”  How many of us are more prone to bring just three balls of patience and forbearance to others, instead of an abundant enough supply to play through the whole game—and actually have leftovers?  Are we afraid some of that patience may go to waste or just too chintzy to share? 

            Psalm 132:15 tells us that God will “abundantly bless” his people.  Other passages talk about the abundance of rain and crops.  They speak of God’s people being satisfied, not with scanty amounts, but “with fatness.”  How would people describe what we give back to God, not just in the collection plate, but in our time, in our effort, in our generosity to others, and in the way we make decisions every day?  Is God always on our minds, or simply when the cultural norms of the day dictate?  Does our service to God always come first in any decision we make, even where we live, whom we marry, and where we spend our spare time?  Or are we stingy with that too?

            Isa 55:7 tells us God will “abundantly pardon.”  Not just enough so we can squeak by, but enough that we can live without fear of judgment, 1 John 4:17,18.  How do we pardon those who have wronged us?  How can we even speak in the same terms when the things we become so upset about are usually petty annoyances, nothing even close to the despicable deeds we have done to this merciful God, who continually supplies the balls, who never runs out no matter how many we scuff up, or hit over the wall, or toss out to a bystander as if it were nothing?

            What are you bringing to the ball game?  We can never supply our own pardon, but we can sacrifice anything and everything as often as necessary and stand ready to give up even more to a Savior who came “that we may have life, and have it abundantly,” John 10:10.
 
Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, unto him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus unto all generations for ever and ever. Amen. Ephesians 3:20-21
 
Dene Ward

I came across a reference to a Stephen Crane short story in which he stated that a certain character was not even a noun, but only an adverb.  I have never read that story, so I found myself pondering what in the world he must have meant by that. My mind wandered all over, eventually to spiritual matters.  How could one be an adverb instead of a noun? 

            Then it struck me.  What is it the apostle John says of God?  Not that He acts lovingly, but that He is love.  It is one thing to act in a loving manner on occasion, and quite another to be the very embodiment of love.

            If someone said of me that I had acted rudely, I would hope it was a momentary lapse in my usual behavior.  However, if someone said I was rudeness personified, it would mean that courtesy was a momentary lapse; that my habit was to behave rudely in practically every situation.  One is a stronger accusation than the other by far.  You can apologize for one.  The other requires a complete change in character. 

            If someone called you a Scrooge, you would instantly understand that they think you are greedy and miserly.  The Bible uses similar language when it uses terms like “sons of disobedience.” It is not that difficult a concept to grasp.

            So how would people describe me this morning?  Am I kindness personified?  Am I the embodiment of wisdom?  Or am I the epitome of childishness, or pettiness, or malice?  What noun are you?

            And then there is this further consideration:  can I even become a noun?  Am I too inconsistent or too weak to become what God requires of me on a regular basis?  Can I ever hope to have someone say of me, “She is love,” or, “She is joy,” or “She is faith?”

            A small thought for the morning, but one that could make a huge difference in our lives.
 
For the love of Christ constrains us; because we thus judge, that one died for all, therefore all died; and he died for all, that they that live should no longer live unto themselves, but unto him who for their sakes died and rose again…Wherefore if any man is in Christ, he is a new creature: the old things are passed away; behold, they are become new, 2 Cor 5:14,15,17.
 
Dene Ward

We do not have your average watchdog.  Every other dog we have ever had barked when someone drove up to the house.  In fact, they usually started barking as our visitors drove through the gate a hundred yards away.  But not Chloe.

              We were expecting guests one evening recently, and we knew exactly when they drove on to the property.  Suddenly, Chloe went tearing by the window—in the opposite direction.  I am not sure if she actually made it all the way around the house and under the porch to hide before they drove up or not, but she made herself scarce as soon as they exited their vehicle.  At least we knew to go open the door when we saw her tearing across the yard.

              Sometimes we need to learn a thing or two from Chloe.  The Lord expects us to fight, to stand, and be firm—but not always.  At times, the thing we are fighting is too dangerous to get that close.  In those cases he does not want us to be foolhardy daredevils.  He tells us to just run.

              Therefore, my beloved, flee from idolatry. (1Cor 10:14)  You may think this is no problem for us.  You would be wrong.  In a culture that worships celebrity, we are just as prone as those first century Christians to follow the pagans in their exciting festivals and sacrifices.  For us, it's falling into the temptation of thinking more highly of people than we ought (Rom 12:3)—just look at the disparity in wages between actors and athletes versus first responders and schoolteachers.  Our skewed sense of values is shameful.  We, too, fall into the temptation of fashioning our lives after popular idols instead of Christ—clothing, lifestyles, recreation, and other things which may not be appropriate for a child of God.  And that is only one of various forms of idolatry our society participates in.

              But as for you, O man of God, flee these things... (1Tim 6:11)  Check the context immediately above this verse and you will see that Paul is warning Timothy about the corrupting nature of wealth.  If ever a culture needs that warning today, it is ours.  We spend too much of our time on it, too much of our energy and thought.  Just compare what you spend on entertainment (TV, movies, vacations, etc.) in a year with what you spend on spiritual things, including your Sunday morning contribution, and see where you stand.  And so like everyone else, we dream of being rich because if we had all that money, we would be different!  It would not be a problem for us to handle it.  If you have ever thought such a thing, run!  You are in danger.  Don't even try to stand and fight it.  It will swallow you whole.

              Flee fornication. Every sin that a man does is without the body; but he that commits fornication sins against his own body. (1Cor 6:18)  I have seen too many good strong men and women fall by this very sin, people you would never have thought would do so.  Elders, deacons, Bible class teachers, even preachers.  This is so dangerous that even that great hero of faith, Joseph, did not try to fight it.  He simply ran (Gen 39:12).  Do you really think you are stronger than he was?  Don't do anything that will leave you in a vulnerable position.  It isn't exciting, glamorous, or romantic—it is sin.  Period.  Just ask yourself the same question Joseph did:  "How can I do this great wickedness and sin against God?"  If you want to know how you can, then stick around like a fool and you will find out soon enough.  If you want to save yourself—run.

              But flee youthful lusts… (2Tim 2:22)  Timothy was not all that young when Paul wrote him these words, probably in his late thirties or early forties.  That tells you that "youthful" lusts are dangerous to everyone, not just young people.  Do you want to see youthful lusts in action?  Watch that white-haired man drive down the road in his Corvette convertible with that twenty-something blonde in the passenger seat.  Mid(and later)-life crises happen when people decide they have not been able to do everything they ever dreamed of.  Instead of enjoying life with the wives of their youth, becoming a child again with their grandchildren, and spending their golden years serving God in ways they never could earlier, they have decided that selfishness is the way to go.  It is easy to see the draw.  It is harder to turn away if you stand there too long.  Run, run, and keep on running.  Those youthful lusts would have ruined your life then, and they can ruin what's left of it now.

              So yes, once in a while it's okay to follow Chloe's example.  Running can be good for you, and not just for the exercise of it.  Running can save your soul.
 
Save yourself like a gazelle from the hand of the hunter, like a bird from the hand of the fowler. (Prov 6:5)
 
Dene Ward

A chance remark by an acquaintance has never affected me quite so much.
 
             These were new neighbors, mostly just nodding acquaintances over the south fence line.  But the wife was a social creature who had been uprooted from her friends and moved thirty miles into the country by her husband's retirement dreams.  As soon as I introduced myself, she was ready for a new friendship.

              He, on the other hand, was a bit aloof and quite full of himself, quick and eager to list his life's accomplishments, most of which involved making money, and we didn't have any so we couldn't be too important.  Still, she had talked enough about us to him that he knew the basics. 

              I had traipsed through the woods one morning for a cup of coffee, and as we sat there, he came in from an early morning golf foursome.  To his credit, he sat down for a bit of conversation.

              "Did you see the movie…" he began, but quickly stopped and amended, "Oh no, you're a Christian.  You wouldn't have seen that movie."

              That has stuck with me for years.  Too many times I hear my brethren arguing about what is or isn't a sin.  Most of the time, it's something one of them wants to do, or already is participating in that the other one has questioned.  Isn't it odd that the world knows exactly what a Christian ought not to be doing while some Christians seem mystified?

              Of course I understand that "what the world thinks" is NOT to be our barometer of authority.  But Paul told the Corinthian church they were accepting something "that is not even tolerated among the Gentiles," 1 Cor 5:1.  When he lists the works of the flesh in Gal 5:19-21, he begins with, "The works of the flesh are obvious," and ends with "and anything similar."  The way some argue, you would think that what is and isn't appropriate behavior for a Christian is some nebulous, hard to decipher principle.  God, through his apostle, says that anyone with an ounce of brainpower can figure it out.

              What does it say about us when we cannot?
 
“Therefore thus says the LORD: Ask among the nations, Who has heard the like of this? The virgin Israel has done a very horrible thing.  Does the snow of Lebanon leave the crags of Sirion? Do the mountain waters run dry, the cold flowing streams?​  But my people have forgotten me; they make offerings to false gods; they made them stumble in their ways, in the ancient roads, and to walk into side roads, not the highway, making their land a horror, a thing to be hissed at forever. Everyone who passes by it is horrified and shakes his head. (Jer 18:13-16)

Dene Ward

For two or three years now, an elephant ear has grown at the southwest corner of the house.  This year several shoots came up, and all of them bloomed.  I never knew an elephant ear bloomed at all.  Here is the amazing part—I never planted an elephant ear bulb.

              I have had caladiums on the west side for many years now.  They are always the last things up--in May--and the first things to die back—in August.  Occasionally, probably due to the vagaries of a North Florida winter, they simply disappear.  That means I go to the farm store and prowl among the bulb boxes to replace them.  The boxes are clearly labeled, including full color pictures.  That way, if I need to replace a red one, I can find it.  If the pink one has gone the way of all things, I look for the pink picture.  There is absolutely no way to make a mistake unless you are blind or just don't look at the boxes.

              But here is the law of nature:  I simply must have planted an elephant ear bulb.  How did this happen without me knowing it?  Probably a clerk put it in the wrong box.  Those bulbs all look pretty much alike.  If the wrong bulb is in the box and someone picks it up, she would never know until the plant came up in the spring.  So in reality, I did plant an elephant ear, albeit accidentally.

              The same thing happens every day of your life.  You are planting seed and don't even know it.  People watch you, especially people who know you claim to be a believer.  You may accidentally plant an elephant ear instead of a caladium just because you weren't paying attention to the picture on the box.  You didn't think it mattered when you lost your temper.  You didn't think anyone would notice when you exacted a little retribution.  You were blissfully unaware of the audience watching your performance with the waitress or the store clerk or someone else who gave you less than you thought your patronage deserved.

              And worse than that, elephant ears bloom.  They spread, just like mine, proliferating into more people who are also affected by your words and your behavior.  You never know how far your influence will go from simple word of mouth or now, through the internet and the thousands who read one post from a person who had to deal with a Christian choosing to act like something else.

              The good news is you can plant caladiums just as easily, and even accidentally.  People notice good these days and it spreads like wildfire—or a virus, I suppose is the term.  You are always planting something whether you know it or not.  Make sure it's caladiums.
 
The sins of some people are conspicuous, going before them to judgment, but the sins of others appear later.  So also good works are conspicuous, and even those that are not cannot remain hidden. (1Tim 5:24-25)                                             
Dene Ward