I was nearly out of lotion and saw a sale--some fancy stuff for the same price as good old Lubriderm.  I stood there at the display amid way too many choices.  How do you decide between apple pomegranate, vanilla fluff, gingerbread, sugar plum, lemon twist, and blue ocean?  Well, I was afraid the last one would make me smell like salt cod so that was a no-brainer.

            I picked up the gingerbread tube and thought I would just flip open the top and give it a sniff.  Nothing.  I do have more trouble these days smelling things because of all the medications.  So I decided to give the tube a light squeeze so a puff of scented air from inside the tube would give me a better whiff. 

            Instead of air, a big glop of orange creamsicle-colored lotion shot straight into the air and arced over to the catchall shelf of sorts that I carry in front of me.  Plop!  A big orange spot appeared on my bright blue sweater. 

            Wait!  Is anyone looking?  Did anyone see?  I looked around guiltily and then, because I had nothing else with me, started wiping if off with my finger.  The sweater was dark enough and nubby enough that the spot no longer showed, but I had a big dollop of lotion to get rid of and the best I could think was to just rub it into my hands and arms.  I am sure the security people were laughing their heads off as they viewed the monitor that picked up this “I Love Lucy” moment.

            You know what?  I did not like the smell.  A friend later asked me if I had spilled machine oil all over myself.  No, just gingerbread body lotion, and I carried it about with me for a long eight hour day because I had a doctor’s appointment afterward.  Yuk!

            Let that be a lesson to you.  Sometimes we start wondering what we are missing out there in the big, bad world.  I have been good all my life—brought up “in the church,” taught to obey all authorities--parents, teachers, policemen--memorized all the no-nos for a Christian, and the scriptures to go along with them.  If all those things out there are so bad, why do so many spend their lives pursuing them?  What do they know that I don’t?  Just one little whiff is all I want.

            But that little whiff can easily become a big glop of smelly stuff that we carry with us far longer than the actual experience lasts.  Consequences can raise a big stink in your life.  In fact, they can ruin your life, and even the lives of those you love and have no desire to hurt.

            It is not a question of what those folks out there know that you don’t; it’s a question of what you know that they don’t—that sin is deceptively easy to fall into and sometimes impossible to get out of.  God will forgive you, but he will not wash away the consequences—like ruined relationships, like destroyed trust, like physical diseases or injuries, like jail time and a record that follows
you everywhere. 

            Though I did not really like it much, that little glop of lotion did not smell quite that bad when it landed on my sweater.  But as the day grew longer, it began to reek.  Sin will do exactly the same thing.
 
There is no soundness in my flesh because of your indignation; there is no health in my bones because of my sin.  For my iniquities have gone over my head; like a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me. My wounds stink and fester because of my foolishness, I am utterly bowed down and prostrate; all the day I go about mourning. For my sides are filled with burning, and there is no soundness in my flesh.  I confess my iniquity; I am sorry for my sin. Do not forsake me, O LORD! O my God, be not far from me! Make haste to help me, O Lord, my salvation! Selected verses from the 38th Psalm.
 
 Dene Ward

In spite of the fact that my husband claims to be a Southerner (he is really an Arkansas hillbilly and I had to teach him the proper way to eat grits), he regularly makes fun of my accent.  This from the guy to whom perfect strangers point and say with amazement, “You sound just like Jimmy Stewart!”  He says folks from the Deep South are the only ones who can take a three letter word, put three syllables in it, and take three full seconds to say it.  Ham, for instance:  hay—ee—yum.
 
           Actually I have noticed how my speech has changed over my lifetime.  I was born around Orlando, not the Orlando you know now, but pre-Disney Orlando, which was a small town then, full of people with rural roots, and only a few pretentious folks over in the Winter Park section—the white-gloved folks who knew how to stick their pinkies out when they drank tea.  Back then I probably had a true Southern accent.

            I spent the last eight years of my growing up life and the first year of married life in Tampa, so my accent began to even out some.  Then two years in Illinois farmland put a real spin on it.  For the last 30 years I have lived back in Florida—not the cosmopolitan Florida the rest of the world knows about, but rural, north central Florida, where the possums and coons still rummage at night, the bobcats scream, and the hound dogs bay at the moon.  I don’t think I have pronounced the “g” on an –ing word in at least 20 years.       God’s people have had similar problems throughout the ages.  Nehemiah was horrified at the effect foreign people were having on his brethren, and used their language problem as a symbol for things much worse:  In those days also I saw the Jews that had married women of Ashdod, Ammon, and Moab; and their children spoke half in the speech of Ashdod and could not speak in the Jews’ language, but according to the language of each people.  Neh 13:23,24.

            I have always heard this passage used to point out that some use Bible words the wrong way, mixing up pastors with preachers, and fellowship with donuts.  But it is more important for me in my daily life to think about this:  I should not allow the language around me to affect the way I speak.  God’s children should be speaking blessing, not cursing; words of understanding, not words of judgment; words of praise, not words of criticism.  Can I turn a cashier’s day around with a friendly hello rather than a cold empty look?  Can I make a waitress’s feet hurt a little less with friendly conversation, rather than a gruff complaint?  Can I give my wavering brother or sister an encouraging word rather than an unfeeling push over the edge of temptation?  The condemnation of the language of Ashdod means a whole lot more than just mixing up a few definitions.

            Today, and every day Lord, help my accent to be that of a Christian.
 
A soft answer turns away wrath…The tongue of the wise utters knowledge correctly…A gentle tongue is a tree of life…A man has joy by the answer of his mouth, and a word spoken in due season, how good it is…Pleasant words are like a honeycomb:  sweet to the soul and health to the bones.  Selected lines from Proverbs 15 and 16.
 
Dene Ward

Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong.  Let all that you do be done in love. (1Cor 16:13-14)
 
             Please pardon the paraphrase in the title.  When we were discussing the above passage in our women's study, it just seemed I should come up with something else.  No woman wants to be told to "Act like a man."  Of course we understand that it is the "universal he" commonly used in writing, but it made for a light moment in a heavy class.  Paul is telling us all to "act like adults" instead of the big babies he speaks of in I Corinthians.  We found it helpful to make a list of how to do that based on this passage.

              1.  Be watchful.  What happens every time your teenage child leaves the house and you say, "Be careful?"  Right, the old eye roll, as if it were a ridiculous thing to say.  Immature minds cannot conceive of the dangers out there simply because they have no experience with them.  Young people think they are immortal and that we are silly to even worry.  Why, nothing is going to happen to them!  We aren't a bit better when we go out into the world with no care at all for the "roaring lion seeking whom he may devour."  He is out there—every minute of every day, and he has YOU in his sights.  If you want to act like an adult, then be watchful.

              2.  Stand firm in the faith.  Children lose their focus and become distracted.  When things become tedious, they get bored and decide they don't like it any more.  When difficulties arise, they quit.  Adults, on the other hand, keep on till the end, till the job is finished, till the goal is reached, till the aim has been accomplished.  God is counting on us to stick with it.  If we won't do it with the physical things of this life, why do we think we will when our spiritual lives face hardship?  "He who is faithful in little is faithful in much," Jesus said, calling the physical "little" and the spiritual "much."  Who receives the reward?  "He who overcomes," the one who is "faithful unto death," the one who acts like an adult.

              3.  Be strong.  When life is tough, an adult doesn't stop working, sit there and whine, "I can't take any more."  Most of us can do far more than we ever imagined.  If you have lived more than three decades, you have already discovered that you can do what you have to do.  Maybe you have never stopped and looked back on your life and the hard times you have come through and somehow managed to survive.  See?  You can be strong.  So be an adult.  Stop making excuses and, to borrow from an ad line, just get up and do it.

              4.  Do everything in love.  It took me awhile to figure out what this had to do with all these other things.  Then I remembered all those stories you hear about a frail little old lady lifting a car off of her husband when it fell off the jack.  How did she do it?  Adrenaline—that little boost that gives you almost superhuman power. 

             Love is spiritual adrenaline.  When you love someone, you can do anything for them.  You will ignore the aggravations your neighbors cause you, the irritations your family members sometimes bring; you will love them and overcome the temptation to strike back, speak back, or repay in kind.  You will even show "love" to other drivers! 

              Here is where the "acting like an adult" part comes in, because you will choose to love those people despite them and their foibles.  Love is a choice you will make every day, no matter how tired you are, how sick you are, how aggravated you are; no matter how unfair it is or how much that person deserves something besides your love; and even when you correct, you will do it because you love, not because you are angry or judgmental.  "Everything" is to be done in love.  That pretty much covers it all.

              And there you have in two short verses how Paul says we are to be mature instead of childish.  Which attitude will you choose?
 
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.  Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing. (2Tim 4:7-8)
 
Dene Ward

Men consider whining to be strictly a female foible.  Gentlemen:  grumbling is just whining an octave lower.

Do everything without grumbling and arguing,so that you may be blameless and pure, children of God who are faultless in a crooked and perverted generation, among whom you shine like stars in the world. (Phil 2:14-15)

Dene Ward

Do you remember that movie quote?  If you are even five years younger than I, you might not.  I first heard it as a young teenager sometime in April 1968, when a friend and I went to see Stanley Kubrick's new movie "2001:  A Space Odyssey."          

If you are not familiar with the movie or the short story by Arthur C. Clarke, it is the tale of two astronauts and a sentient computer, HAL 9000, who controls life support and computer systems on their space craft.  This simple explanation does not begin to cover the many elements of the plot, but suffice it to say, Hal begins to malfunction, deliberately causing the deaths of one of the astronauts as well as three others who are in a kind of hibernation.  It becomes a fight for survival between the last astronaut, Dr. Dave Bowman, and Hal.

Some of Hal's most remembered lines from the movie are:

"Just what do you think you're doing, Dave?"

"I'm sorry, Dave.  I'm afraid I can't do that."

"This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it."

The voice of Hal was masterfully portrayed by Douglas Rain, an acclaimed Shakespearean actor.  He performed the part with a bland, flat, non-accent in a quiet voice that, by the end of the movie sent chills up your spine.  You could easily imagine that this machine could coldly but calmly execute you if it saw a logical need for it. 

Rain was born on March 13, 1928, and even though Shakespeare seemed his main interest, he is still best known as the voice of Hal, and even now I can still hear him voicing those lines.

But what I want us to think about today is this:  What lines will we be remembered for?

If you have listened to the same preacher for several years, you have probably picked up on a few mannerisms he may not even know he has.  When I was growing up, we had a preacher who ended sentences with the word "that."  Or he would start them with, "This is that…"  If things like this happen more than once or twice a sermon, it becomes distracting.  You find yourself counting the repetitive phrase instead of listening to the point, a very good reason to tape yourself and listen once in a while.  But not even That (pardon me) is what I am talking about.

How do you greet people?  Pleasantly, with a smile and a welcome in your voice, or something that, though you may not actually say it, still sounds like, "What do YOU want?"

How do you answer questions?  With irritation?  With snide sarcasm?  With boredom in your voice?

When you teach, do your students have a habit of writing down some of your statements because they want to remember them, or, given the choice, do they simply never show up again?

Do you say more helpful things or more hurtful things?

Do you talk about people with disrespectful name-calling?  Or do you remember that they are made in the image of God? 

In all of these things, "Just what do you think you're doing?"

It's been 51 years since I first heard Hal's eerie voice say that and I still remember some of the other things he said, too.  What words of yours will people remember?
 
For every kind of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can be tamed and has been tamed by mankind, but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.  With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse people who are made in the likeness of God.  From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers, these things ought not to be so.  Does a spring pour forth from the same opening both fresh and salt water?  Can a fig tree, my brothers, bear olives, or a grapevine produce figs? Neither can a salt pond yield fresh water. (Jas 3:7-12)
 
Dene Ward

Girls raised in the South, or GRITS as one of my coffee mugs calls them, are some of the strongest people on this earth.  These women were nurtured on grits, greens, cornbread and chores from the time they could chew.  They work hard and long without complaint.  They know that getting dirty is healthy and sweat is not a terminal disease so they don’t avoid either one.  They can hoe row after row in the hot sun, shell beans till midnight, can, blanch, and preserve in a steamy kitchen for hours, cook for an army every night, and then clean it all up and start over the next morning. 

              They show up like magic when others are hurting and do whatever needs doing.  They find their way in any kitchen, heating up casseroles seasoned with love and tears, stirring pots of vegetables flavored with fatback, slicing tall layer cakes and mile high meringue pies, sinking their arms in a sink full of suds, and grabbing up a basket of laundry on their way out the door to be returned clean, mended, ironed, and folded before the house of mourning even realizes the clothes are missing. 

              They will take anyone’s children in their laps and dry up tears, listen to sad stories, and tell a few funny ones to bring back the smiles.  They bandage skinned knees and aren’t too prissy to change a needful baby’s diapers, no matter who it belongs to.  They will even offer a little discipline on little bottoms that think since Mama’s not around no one else cares—they care.  They can play tag, hide and seek, and red rover, make mudpies and sand castles, and then go home and finish whatever needs doing, no matter how late it gets.  They will stay up all night with anyone who needs it, then get up and go again as if nothing has happened.

              How do they do it?  The women I grew up watching had one magic ingredient—love—love that involved selflessness, strength, and purpose, and was borne from the heat of life.  Maybe living in the South made that come more naturally, just as the southern heat and humidity makes the sweat pour more profusely.  But then I am sure that some of my Northern friends could tell stories about their mamas, too.  Maybe it's not the south that makes these women like this—maybe it's the fact that they are real women, not divas or prima donnas.

              God applies the heat to us as well.  In Isa 48:10, God told His people,   Behold, I have refined you, but not as silver; I have tried you in the furnace of affliction. Affliction hurts.  It burns in a flash and roasts in constant pain and fear.  But eventually, the heat refines our souls and makes them pure and strong.

              What, you think it unfair that God would do this?  Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.  If He would do it to His own Son, who are we to get some sort of special dispensation?  In fact, the special dispensation is in the trials.  If God never put us through these things, we would be weaklings, always babes, never maturing to spirituality.  Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

              There is another result from all this fiery testing, perhaps the best result of all.  God speaks of a group of His people in Zech 13:9, saying, And I will put this third into the fire, and refine them as one refines silver, and test them as gold is tested. They will call upon my name, and I will answer them. I will say, 'They are my people'; and they will say, 'The LORD is my God.'"  I will go through whatever it takes to have Him declare me His child and answer my call, won’t you?

              Even now, as the long hot summer approaches, I am ready for it.  It reminds me that just as the southern heat strengthens my body, the spiritual heat can work wonders on my soul.  I know from watching both of my grandmothers, and my mother and aunts.  I know from working side by side with other women as we toil for our families and neighbors, and for the Lord, too, as we serve our brethren. 

              You need to become comfortable with the fire.  If you can’t stand the heat, the kitchen is the least of your worries.
 
Each one's work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. 1 Corinthians 3:13
 
Dene Ward

Keith was in the kitchen, cleaning up dinner dishes so I could begin my Bible lesson study.
 
             "Did I clean off the table?" he called from that room.

              "I think so."

              He went on with his work, dishes rattling in the sink, while I bent over my Bible and the workbook I had written for the class.  Before long I heard the water gurgling down the drain.

              Then he walked through the dining area, just a few feet away, stopped suddenly and said, "No I did NOT wipe off the table."

              "Oh," I muttered.  "Looked clean to me."

              He let out a laugh. "Yep, and it sounded good to me."

              If you know both of us well, you know what a ridiculous conversation this was.  He is 90% deaf and I am chasing his numbers in the blind department.  I would never ask him how something sounded, and he ought to have known better than to ask me how something looked.

              Now, think a minute.  Who do you approach with Bible questions?  Do they know what they are talking about?  Do they live what they are talking about?  Do they have a vested interest in you believing something a certain way?  Are they interested in saving your soul or in telling you what they know you want to hear?  Do they even like you very much?  Add to this list—I am sure there are more questions you need to be thinking about as you evaluate their answers.

              If you want to know what a passage of scripture means, don't go to a man who is so blinded by his own beliefs that he does things you can see with your own eyes are not scriptural.

              If you want the truth, don't go to a man who will only hear what he already believes and never question it.

              "Consider the source" has real meaning when your soul is at stake, and far worse consequences than a crumby dinner table.
 
Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, (John 6:68)
 
Dene Ward

It may be South Carolina's state flower, but we sure have a lot of it in North Florida.  I had seen those bountiful yellow blooms for years every winter so when we decided to make a large vine trellis, I wanted those, along with Confederate Jasmine, and Purple Painted Trumpets.  We have blooms now from January through June.
 
             But the jessamine also grows wild across the fence and down in the wooded section of the property along the drive.  Cascades of sweet-smelling yellow trumpet flowers hanging from tree limbs, crawling over brush, and dripping over fence lines dot our place with color for weeks.  Even if I have not noticed them yet, high in the treetops, as I walk Chloe around the path I always know when to look up.  Those yellow flowers fall and litter the ground below, still bright yellow, still fresh and unwilted.  You can always tell where they are, or, after the blooming stops, where they have been.  Isn't that the way it should be with a follower of Christ?

              I have read from several different sources, that Christians in the first century always gave themselves away.  No one else was kind to strangers.  No one else took care of the sick and needy.  No one else treated their enemies with thoughtfulness and consideration, even when it cost them their lives.

              We may not be in such dire straits—yet—but how many of the people you come in contact with during the day would shake their heads in amazement at the kindness you showed them—a perfect stranger, perhaps even a stranger who had caused them some trouble?  If they had to give a description of you for some reason, what would they say?  How many people would consider themselves better off for having known you?  How many would say, "My world is a better place for you having been in it?"

              Like the jessamine, people should be able to look around on the ground and know we have been somewhere nearby.  The ground should be covered with the aftereffects of our good works, as bright as those yellow blossoms, as obvious to everyone who passes by.
 
The tongue of the righteous is choice silver; the heart of the wicked is of little worth.  The lips of the righteous feed many, but fools die for lack of sense.​The blessing of the LORD makes rich, and he adds no sorrow with it.  Doing wrong is like a joke to a fool, but wisdom is pleasure to a man of understanding.​  What the wicked dreads will come upon him, but the desire of the righteous will be granted.  When the tempest passes, the wicked is no more, but the righteous is established forever. Prov 10:20-25
 
Dene Ward

Have you noticed that no one can speak two sentences without taking the name of the Lord in vain?  Even children are uttering a phrase that once was never spoken in polite company, that men begged a lady’s pardon for saying, that television censors bleeped.  When you have an abbreviation for it, it has become entirely too common.  I have a friend who wants to make tee shirts with “omg” under the universal “not allowed” sign of a circle with a slash.  But that three word monstrosity is just the first, and most obvious way to take God’s name in vain.

              Recently, while I was doing some research, I came across a website called Judaism 101.  At the top, the following phrase caught my eye:  Please note that this page contains the name of God.  If you print it out, please treat it with appropriate respect.

              Oh, how we need this lesson today, and I don’t just mean the heathen out there in the world.

              The name of God stands for far more than just what to call Him.  It stands for His essence and nature.  It represents His history and reputation.  And I will sanctify my great Name which has been profaned among the nations, Ezek 36:23.  How would you feel if your “good name,” as we speak of this concept, were thrown around carelessly, used in sarcastic movie or book titles, or joked about?  Yet it goes much farther than that.

              In Judaism, any act that causes God to come into disrespect or a commandment to be broken is often referred to as profaning the name of God.  This makes sense when you realize that any good deed we do is spoken of as “sanctifying” or “glorifying” his name.  Even so let your light shine before men; that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven, Matt 5:16.  One is just the opposite of the other, and there you have the second way to profane the Name of God—disobey or cause someone else to disobey Him.

              Number three hits a little closer to home.  The Name of God stands for His Authority.  Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the Name of the Lord, Col 3:17.  If a policeman yells out, “Stop in the name of the law,” he is telling you that the law of the land gives him the authority to stop you, and you had better do it or pay the consequences.  Too many of my brethren are out there pooh-poohing God’s Authority these days, as if “authority” were a bad word.  When you act without God’s authority, you are profaning His Name as surely as if you spoke it in vain.  You have no respect for that Authority, nor, thus, for His Name.

              The website I mentioned listed several things that orthodox Jews will and will not do in reference to the Name of God.  Some of them seem awfully, well, "Pharisaic" comes to mind.  But at least they have the right idea, while we bandy about The Name of God as if it were just any other word, then profane it with careless, or even scornful attitudes, disobey His commands because they don’t suit us, and rationalize our way out of a life of sacrificial service because it’s “too hard” and “makes me feel like a failure.”  Disrespecting the authority of God is one and the same as profaning His Name, and conservative fundamentalists take part in it every day.  Number three is the scary one because it is so easy to fall into and still think you are just fine because you are so prone to shout Amen and Hallelujah.

              God is Holy.  His Name is Holy.  His essence is Holiness.  Anything I say or do that detracts from that Holiness profanes His Name.  It can be a careless phrase.  It can be downright disobedience.  It can be deciding for God what He will and won’t mind.  Meditate on that awhile.  Stand in awe of a God whose Name is so powerful it created the worlds, and be just a little scared of how you treat it.
 
There is none like you among the gods, O Lord, nor are there any works like yours. All the nations you have made shall come and worship before you, O Lord, and shall glorify your name. For you are great and do wondrous things; you alone are God. Teach me your way, O LORD, that I may walk in your truth; unite my heart to fear your name. I give thanks to you, O Lord my God, with my whole heart, and I will glorify your name forever. Psalms 86:8-12
 
Dene Ward      

Stomach trouble seems to run in our family.  I remember my Daddy eating Di-gel tablets like they were candy.  Then I inherited his problem and had my first ulcer at 23.  Way too much acid that was aided and abetted by carrying a 9 ¼ lb, 22 inch baby so high I looked like a walking beach ball.  My younger son picked up the acid problem with an acid level even higher than mine.  On my mother's side everyone had gall stones, so I followed suit as did my older son.
 
             No matter how healthy you are, stomach trouble can debilitate you, in sometimes embarrassing ways, and it is almost always affected by what we eat.  I remember introducing my first baby to sweet potatoes.  His little tummy rumbled and grumbled in such an alarming way that I was sure any second that child would launch out of the infant seat and orbit the kitchen.  He certainly had enough propulsion to do so.  At least that experience benefited his little brother.  I mixed his sweet potatoes with other mashed veggies the first time, like carrots or peas, though I would never recommend the color that peas and sweet potatoes make when mixed together for any painting project.

              As many times as the metaphor of eating is applied to the Word of God, those memories made me sit back and think a bit.

              God once told Ezekiel, “Son of man, eat whatever you find here. Eat this scroll, and go, speak to the house of Israel. "So I opened my mouth, and he gave me this scroll to eat. And he said to me, “Son of man, feed your belly with this scroll that I give you and fill your stomach with it.” Then I ate it, and it was in my mouth as sweet as honey. Ezek 3:1-3

              John had a similar experience.  So I went to the angel and told him to give me the little scroll. And he said to me, “Take and eat it; it will make your stomach bitter, but in your mouth it will be sweet as honey." And I took the little scroll from the hand of the angel and ate it. It was sweet as honey in my mouth, but when I had eaten it my stomach was made bitter. Rev 10:9-10

              Both of those prophets had a great respect and love for the Word of God.  That's where the "sweet as honey" comes in.  But neither one of them loved the message they had to deliver; John, one of an upcoming persecution greater than God's people had ever experienced, and Ezekiel, trying to convince a hardheaded people that Jerusalem would indeed be destroyed in a most horrible way and that they were the true remnant, the only hope for God's people and the World.  Yet both of those men, because of their devotion to God, fulfilled their missions.  Their abiding love for God made their prophecies palatable.

              I have heard both preachers and elders, lately, beg a congregation full of God's people to "get into the Word."  When we have to beg, when we have to bargain like a parent with a toddler—"Eat just one bite and you can have some dessert"—how much love for the Word are we exhibiting?  How much commitment to our Savior do we really have?

              If we are what we claim, we should long to fill ourselves with those words.  We should clamor for more.  If nothing else, like an adult we should understand that eating our vegetables is better for us than eating French fries, desserts, or candy, and do it without needing a bribe.  At least one has a hope of developing a taste for the profound, the spiritual, the Truth if he tries it once in a while. 

              My mother used to mash the carrots and potatoes from the pot roast and mix them together so I would eat the carrots.  Now I have matured and do just fine, thank you.  What won't you eat, even for the sake of saving your soul?
 
How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth! Ps 119:103
 
Dene Ward