I learned as a child in the Florida school system that Juan Ponce de Leon was the first Spanish explorer to land here.  No records are available but he was believed to have been born in July, 1474, and traveled with Columbus as a very young man before ultimately setting off on his own.

              He had heard stories about a magical spring that could cure diseases and make you young again, so he began the search, finally sighting land on March 27, 1513.  A few days later he landed; no one is sure the exact date except that it was “late March,” and obviously after the 27th.  The land he set foot on somewhere near St. Augustine was so beautiful he called it Florida.  Spring in Florida is beautiful.  I understand why he was impressed.  If he had landed in July, we would have had a much different name.  (What’s the Spanish word for “sauna?”)

              We do have a lot of natural springs in Florida—probably half a dozen within 30 miles of where I sit—but none with the magical powers he looked for.  I can find a Fountain of Youth quite easily, though.  I have it laid out right next to me as I type.  The eternal life promised to the faithful may be the most obvious application of that concept, but I can think of yet another.

              As I watch my grandsons play I find myself remembering my own childhood, realizing as an adult how unfettered it was by worry, pain, and sorrow.  I never for a moment wondered where my next meal was coming from.  I never worried about storms, not even hurricanes.  I never worried about bad people doing bad things to me.  I had a Daddy I trusted implicitly.  He would take care of me.  That’s what Daddies do.

              Once when I was still in early grade school, I had a bad dream.  My Daddy came in and sat on the bed next to me, asking me about the dream and then carefully undoing every worry it had evoked in me.  When he finished I could go back to sleep because of his reassurances.  That’s what Daddies do.

              One morning in first grade I was upset about something—I don’t even remember what now.  But my Daddy noticed that I had tears in my eyes when I got out of the car at school.  As I stood in front of my classroom, waiting for the bell to ring, I looked up and there he was, striding down the sidewalk.  He had parked the car and come looking for me to make sure I was all right.  That’s what Daddies do.

              Daddies provide.  They protect.  They comfort.  Do you want a Fountain of Youth?  Stop worrying about things you cannot fix.  Stop being afraid of things you cannot handle alone.  Stop wondering how you will manage.  Cast your cares on a Father who loves you.  Once again become a little child who has a Daddy who will always be there, always watching out for your needs and taking care of your problems.  If you don’t have that, it’s only because you insist on ignoring His outstretched hand.  You insist on trying to control everything yourself—as if you were the Daddy. 

              Do you begin your prayers, “Father in Heaven?”  Then act like He is your Father.  Trust Him.  Begin this day with a new exuberance, one born because you have surrendered your cares to Him and finally found the Fountain of Youth.
 
For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, "Abba! Father!" The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, Romans 8:14-16.
 
Dene Ward

We sit on the carport most spring mornings with a last cup of coffee, looking for the first sign of spring green in the trees, patting Chloe on the head, and planning our day.  This morning a light breeze ruffled my hair and I shrugged my shoulders against the bit of chill left from the last cold front that had blown through earlier in the week.  A light tinkle made my eyes wander up to the new wind chimes hanging above my head, not your ordinary bong-y wind chimes, but a delicate, more musical note that had gotten my attention the first time I heard them.
 
             I have a friend, a sister in Christ, who crafts these things herself from antique flatware and keys, glass jar lids, beads, and anything else she can find as she wanders through flea markets and small dusty shops.  Mine has all these beauties hanging from an antique silver salt cellar, something I must explain to anyone younger than 60.  All of her creations are beautiful and unique, and mine has that particularly melodious sound that made me choose it from its fellows.

              Outward beauty does not determine the sound that a wind chime produces.  It can only make the sounds that its various elements make.  You won’t get the same sound from iron bars that you will from silver and glass.  Ever do the trick with your glassware, pinging an empty one to see if it’s truly crystal or just ordinary glass?  That’s the way it is with wind chimes, and that’s the way it is with you and me.  A stony heart will not produce the same fruit as a soft one.  An iron heart will not act the same way a heart of gold will.

              You also know this:  the harder the wind blows, the louder the chimes.  When it seems like the storms of life blow us about the most, those are the times that what we are becomes most obvious.  Those are the times that people see what we’re made of.  Even if they don’t really care about the faith you may have tried to share, it becomes so obvious they cannot miss it.  The wind blows where it will, and you hear the voice thereof, but know not from where it comes, or where it goes; so is every one that is born of the Spirit, John 3:8.  People will not see the Spirit within you personally, but they will see its effects on you.  You cannot disguise whether or not you are filled with the Spirit of God.

              If you would like one of these beautiful chimes, just get in touch and I will share my friend’s contact information.  But today think about this far more important thing—you are God’s wind chimes.  People will not be satisfied with your appearance.  The point of the chimes is the sound they make.  What sound does the Wind produce in you?
 
And they that are in the flesh cannot please God. But you are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if so be that the Spirit of God dwells in you. But if any man has not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his. And if Christ is in you, the body is dead because of sin; but the spirit is life because of righteousness. But if the Spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he that raised up Christ Jesus from the dead shall give life also to your mortal bodies through his Spirit that dwells in you, Rom 8:8-11.
 
Dene Ward

Chloe is afraid of everything and everyone.  The meter reader, the FedEx man, every repairman we have ever had, every visitor, and every family member, except my older son, all scare her to death.  I have often wondered if we actually had cattle, whether this Australian Cattle Dog would be afraid of them, too.

             What did all these people do to Chloe?  Nothing.  They simply exist in her world.  So when the grandchildren come visit, she is extra terrified.  After all, little boys are not still, quiet creatures.  Not only are they in her world, they are in it loudly and rambunctiously.  We will often tell her when our older son is on his way.  She knows his name and when she hears, "Lucas is coming," she runs to the edge of the carport, faces the gate, and waits until he arrives, joyously running up to greet him.  She does not know our grandchildren's names.  She thinks they are little monsters, though they are not at all.  They are actually sweet little guys, but to her "monsters" is the name.

              But there is one thing about this scaredy-dog:  when we tell her they are coming "tomorrow," it doesn't bother her a bit.  She still sits between us at the morning fire, relishing a head pat, a belly rub, and a tossed treat.  The thought of the monsters coming doesn't keep her from enjoying today.

              We need to be more like that.  Jesus told us that in almost those exact terms.  Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble [monsters]. Matt 6:34.  Handle today's problems today.  Let tomorrow take care of itself.

              Easier said than done, I know, but consider just two short things in the same passage.  First, worry shows a lack of faith (v 30).  God has promised to care for his people.  He has promised to hear our prayers.  He has promised he will never forsake us.  No, he has not promised to fix everything exactly how we want it, nor has he promised we will never have trials and difficulties in life.  But what he has promised will be far more help than worry ever could be.  Trust him to help you and be with you through it all, and the monsters will be easier to bear.

              Second, only pagans should worry (v 32).  Any time we fail to trust God and become so anxious that we can no longer even function, we are showing ourselves NOT to be children of God, but children of the Devil.  For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. Matt 6:32.  Unbelievers have a father who doesn't care about them.  You have a Father who gave His Son to save you.  What would He NOT give you if you are faithful to Him?

              Remember Chloe's lesson for you this morning.  Take care of today.  There are head pats and belly rubs and treats to be had—don't ruin them by worrying about the monsters of tomorrow.
 
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.  Phil 4:6
 
Dene Ward

Keith was counting out pennies the other day and suddenly he called me to the table. 

"Have you seen these?" he asked, and lying there were four fairly new pennies with different images on them than we had grown up with.  One had a log cabin.  Another had a young rail splitter, taking a rest to read a book.  A third had Lincoln standing in front of the state capitol in Springfield, Illinois, and the fourth the US Capitol.

We wondered if they were real, so I looked it up and yes, indeed, they are real, minted in 2009 to celebrate the 200th birthday of Abraham Lincoln on February 12, 2009.  The four images show the various stages of his life, from childhood to the presidency.  Then I found another article about a new Lincoln penny minted the next year, a union shield with a draped scroll to celebrate Lincoln as the preserver of the Union.

But tell me this, when was the last time you even looked at a penny?  Most of us don't even pay with them anymore.  We hand the cashier a bill and take the change, and maybe that change gets thrown on the dresser or in a jar, and maybe every year or so you throw them in a change machine and replace them with bills again.  While I would not want anyone to do away with pennies—everything rounded up to the next nickel could get expensive, and don't for a minute believe that a merchant is going to round down—I really don't find much use for them.

A favorite tactic of the atheist is to talk about the little blue dot, which is what they call Earth, a mere "penny" in the vastness of outer space. 

"Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.
“The significance of our lives and our fragile planet is then determined only by our own wisdom and courage. We are the custodians of life's meaning. We long for a Parent to care for us, to forgive us our errors, to save us from our childish mistakes. But knowledge is preferable to ignorance. Better by far to embrace the hard truth than a reassuring fable."  Carl Sagan, A Pale Blue Dot:  A Vision of the Human Future in Space.

The atheist believes that since this earth is such a tiny spot in this immense universe that we don't count for anything.  How, he asks, can a Deity, if there is a one, even take notice of us when there is so much more out there?  Really, he says, we need to grow up and stop believing myths.

I am here to tell you, that you may be just a penny on a pale blue dot, but God does care about you.  He does know what is going on in your life, the sorrows, the pain, the misfortunes, and the joys as well.  If you can tear yourself away from their fables long enough to examine the evidence around us and in the Word, you will see the proof of our importance to him in his constant dealings with man through the centuries, and the sacrifices he made to save us.  Why would he have done that if he didn't care, if you didn't matter, if he had so much more on his mind than this pale blue dot? 

The fact is the atheist cannot conceive of a God so much larger than himself, so much more compassionate, so much mightier and awesome.  When all you rely on is your puny little human mind you are kind of stuck that way.  Evidences and apologetics may never convince the skeptic, but you are not one of them or you wouldn't even be bothering with this tiny little blog in a huge cyberspace. 

When you open your mind and your heart to a revealed Word, and a Savior who knows exactly what living on this pale blue dot is all about, you can accept the infinite possibilities a whole lot easier.  And you can be sure that God looks at even his seemingly worthless pennies, and does so constantly.  You matter to him.

Think about that the next time you pull out a pocketful of change.
 
For the eyes of the LORD run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to give strong support to those whose heart is blameless toward him. (2Chr 16:9)

“For his eyes are on the ways of a man, and he sees all his steps. (Job 34:21)

Behold, the eye of the LORD is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his steadfast love, (Ps 33:18)

The eyes of the LORD are toward the righteous and his ears toward their cry. ​ When the righteous cry for help, the LORD hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. (Ps 34:15,17)

For a man's ways are before the eyes of the LORD, and he ponders all his paths. (Prov 5:21)

And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account. (Heb 4:13)

For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and his ears are open to their prayer. (1Pet 3:12)

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. (1Pet 5:6-7)
 
Dene Ward

It has happened again.  We have lost another old friend.  This one fired up his tractor and pulled us out of the mud half a dozen times the first month we lived here.  We were young, 38 and 31, and still new to North Florida—though I am a Central Florida native, it is not the same.  We had never lived half a mile off the hard road, across a field, up over a rise, and through the woods.  No real road meant we were subject to the weather far more than we had realized we would be.  Wayne Smith never said a thing except, "I'll be right there," when we called, and he was, his tractor roaring across the ground, heedless of the mud.
 
             He never will be again.

              And so we have lost our "bookends."  Wayne and the other neighbor we met before anyone else, Tom Hill, are both gone now.  We still find ourselves thinking, "We need to ask Tom about that," or, "Let's go see what Wayne knows."  Habits, even of thought, die hard.  Unfortunately, people do not.  Life is fragile, and we have been slammed with that truth far too often lately:  a good friend and brother in the Lord, one you could talk to about anything, one we raised pigs with, and with whom we raised our children; a sister who carted me back and forth to the doctor after my worst surgery—a trip that put 100 miles on her car every time she did it, over and over again, who advised me on these posts—"Make them challenging," she told me, "That's what we need"—who supported me in my classes, who advised me in cooking, cleaning, sewing, and hospitality; and now our two best neighbors, the first two we met here, who never let us down, and were the epitome of "a good neighbor."

              I noticed this morning as I walked Chloe that even the property looks different now.  Instead of the warm fuzzy feeling of home, it seemed unfriendly and almost unfamiliar.  That's what happens when someone you have grown to count on is no longer down the drive or across the field, when you realize you will never have the pleasure of their talk, the security of knowing help was just a phone call away, nor the benefit of their common sense advice again—for not all of these people we have lost were believers.  That fact makes the hurt so much worse.

              And all of these losses also brings home the fact that our turn is coming.  ​What man can live and never see death? Who can deliver his soul from the power of Sheol? — Selah, Ps 89:48.  It may be quite a few more years; but then, it may be tomorrow.  And though we have known that all our lives, suddenly it seems so much closer.

              Now is the time we lean on those promises. 

              Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Ps 23:4

              ​For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead.  For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive…The last enemy that is abolished shall be death.  1 Cor 15L21,22,26

              But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope.  For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep.  For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first.Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words. 1Thess 4:13-18

              And so as this world becomes less and less hospitable, as it seems more and more alien to us, it becomes easier to imagine that day, whenever it may come, however it may come, as a blessing.  And just as losing these people has left us with a hollow, empty feeling, may we strive more and more to be that to others—someone they will miss, someone they will wish to see again, and maybe in that desire, they will find it easier to overcome that old Serpent, so they can see us again someday too.
 
Nevertheless, I am continually with you; you hold my right hand.  You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will receive me to glory. Ps 73:23-24
 
Dene Ward

I grew up listening to my whole family, especially my uncles, root for the Florida Gators.  It's in the blood, I guess, so I have always rooted for them too, even during losing years, even when once again they handed a win over to their opponents.  But finally, on January 2, 1997, the Gators won their first National Football Championship.  The first is always special, but it also came at the expense of the perennial and hated foe, Florida State.  That made it even sweeter.

              It began as a nail-biter.  We led 24-17 at the half, but they had already beaten us once that year (helped by a slew of uncalled roughing the quarterback plays).  We weren't far into the second half before it was 24-20.  Then Danny, Ike, and Reidel took over the offense, and the defense stood firm.  That was the Seminoles' last score and we finished 52-20.  I enjoyed the second half much more than the first.  In fact, I have developed a bit of a reputation.

           “That was your kind of game!” Lucas texted a few weeks ago when the Gators tromped their opponent by nearly 30 points.  Indeed it was, my favorite kind of game.
 
             The boys have taught me well, not only strategies and terms, but who to root for in football, basketball, and baseball.  The Gators, the Rays, the USF Bulls, the Miami Dolphins, the Buccaneers, sometimes the Jags if they aren’t thoroughly embarrassing themselves, and any SEC team that is not playing Florida at the moment. 

              But if any of those teams are playing, I do not enjoy what most people call “a good game.”  Why would anyone enjoy something that causes heart-burn, heart palpitations, and heart-ache?  I cringe until the score becomes outrageously unbeatable, and then sit back and enjoy the rest.  That’s my kind of game.

              And though it certainly isn’t a game, that’s the way I like my contests with the Devil too.  It ought to be that lopsided a score.  We have a Savior who has already taken care of the hard part.  We are already so far ahead, even before we start, that a comeback by the opponent should be unthinkable.  We have an example how to overcome.  We have help overcoming.  We have a promise that we CAN overcome if we just try.  We have every possible advantage, including coaches and trainers and all-star teammates, and a playbook that is infallible. 

              We have the motivation too.  As we said, this isn’t a game.  There is no next season, and defeat is an unthinkable consequence that should spur us on to adrenalin-boosted, nearly superhuman feats.  And the trophy is far better than anything offered us in this life.  Every athlete exercises self-control in all things.  Now they do it to receive a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one, 1 Cor 9:25.  That crown is called a “crown of life” in several passages—an eternal life with our Creator. 

              Do not make your game a close one.  Don’t sit back and let the Adversary make a comeback.  Don’t fumble the ball, or commit an error, or make a turnover out of carelessness and apathy.  Victory is not handed to you on a platter.  You still have to want to win, and fight like that every minute.  My kind of game may not appeal to you when you watch your favorite teams play, but it should be the only kind you want when your soul is at stake. 

              We are “more than conquerors” with the help of God (Rom 8:37).  His game plan involves a rout, running up the score, and rubbing the enemy’s nose in defeat.  And it can go exactly that way with just a little effort on your part.
 
For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: "Death is swallowed up in victory." "O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?"...But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 1 Corinthians 15:53-55, 57
 
Dene Ward

One of the most challenging aspects of studio teaching is switching horses midstream.  Every forty-five minutes I not only had to rev up the excitement when greeting a new student, I had to change my perspective.

              I had one voice student who could scarcely carry a tune.   We spent a good deal of the lesson practicing matching pitches.  The next student was singing Italian art song and learning to trill.  One I applauded for simply getting through the song in key, the other I reprimanded for breathing in the middle of a word.  A five year old piano student would walk in with her eight bar tune, followed by a senior in high school working on a concerto.  One I praised for playing the right rhythm while only missing two notes.  The other I castigated for poor phrase shaping and improper execution of an appoggiatura.  It would have been unfair to expect a five year old to understand an appoggiatura when he didn’t even know key signatures yet.  It would have been cruel to try to teach a voice student with a challenged ear to trill.

              So I should not have been surprised at what I found in this study of faith that has consumed the past year of my life, but I was.  I wonder if it will surprise you too.  Every time Jesus said, “O ye of little faith,” he was talking to his disciples.  Sometimes other people heard it too, but if you check every account, he was addressing those who followed him daily—“ye of little faith.”  Yet the only times I could find people praised for their “great faith” they were Gentiles!

              That tells me a lot.  First, faith isn’t just a one-time first principle.  If even those who had enough faith to “leave all and follow” could be told their faith was “little,” then faith is something alive and growing.  Jesus expected it to carry them through their lives and become an asset to them, not a burden that might be “lost.” 

              Perhaps the most important thing we learn is something Jesus said in another context:  To whom much is given, of him much shall be required, Luke 12:48.  Those men had been with Jesus 24/7 for a year or more and he expected them to have matured.  I know a lot of people who like to claim they have “strong faith.”  Be careful when you do that.  God may just test your claim: “and from whom they entrusted much, they will demand the more.” 

              So examine your faith.  Is it growing?  Can you handle more adversity today than you did a decade ago?  God expects quick growth.  The people in the first century committed their lives to Him, knowing they might be thrown to the lions the next week.  I worry that too many of us commit our lives to Him expecting all of our problems to disappear in a week.  It’s supposed to be an instant fix to all earthly woes, instead of what He promised--an instant fix to our sins. 

              What exactly are you expecting of your relationship with God?  Some of us try to hold God hostage with our expectations.  “I have faith that God will…” and then we sit back confidently waiting for him to do our will, instead of waiting on His will. 

              Which would the Lord say to you:  “O ye of little faith,” or “I have not found so great faith, no not in Israel?”
 
But as for you, O man of God, flee these things. Pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses. 1 Timothy 6:11-12.                                                 
 
Dene Ward
 

Have you found yourself doing it lately?  Especially in the past ten years or so?  When people start vilifying the Bible with accusations about irrelevance, hate-mongering, misogyny, and homophobia, have you tried to make excuses for God?  Especially when it comes from people who claim to believe that Bible but come right out and say it's wrong, do you feel the need to apologize for God?

              I think I may have done that.  I think I may have said things that sounded like I was embarrassed by what I believed.  Finally, it hit me like a brick.  If someone were embarrassed to admit they knew me, I would just leave.  Wouldn't you?  So how do you suppose our Father feels? 

               Just what are we claiming to be, people?  Disciples of Christ or not?  Servants of God or not?

              If you love me, you will keep my commandments, Jesus said in John 14:15.  Well, do you love him?

                By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments. (1John 5:2)  The world will try to tell you just the opposite—that keeping God's commands means you do not love people.  Who do you believe?

              For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments: and his commandments are not grievous. (1John 5:3)  Or do you disagree with John?  Are God's commands too embarrassing to profess, too difficult in our culture's anti-morality, and too polarizing for our own comfortable lifestyles?

              Until someone else comes along who will empty himself of Deity to become a man, suffer through the undignified life of humanity and die an ignominious death for me, who am I to say I don't agree with God's morality, with commands that affect what I can and cannot do in service to him, and how much I must put up with in other people?  I will do as I am told because no one else loved me that much and no one else created me; no one else has the power to blink us all out of existence with a thought.  Just what in the world are you thinking when you go around apologizing for God and his Word as if it were something embarrassing we have to put up with?  If you hate having to live by God's rules, you may as well quit pretending. 

              This is what God told Jeremiah when he faced a group of arrogant, hard-headed, disobedient, unfaithful people, people who would ridicule and persecute him, and it would serve us well to remember it as we face that same group several thousand years later:

              Then I said, “Ah, Lord GOD! Behold, I do not know how to speak, for I am only a youth.” But the LORD said to me, “Do not say, ‘I am only a youth’; for to all to whom I send you, you shall go, and whatever I command you, you shall speak. ​Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, declares the LORD.” (Jer 1:6-8)
 
Dene Ward

Oh, so many years ago we moved up to the frozen tundra.  At least that’s what north central Illinois felt like to this Florida native.  Keith worked with a small church there and I experienced blizzards, snowmen, and sledding for the first time in my life.  I also experienced a grudge-holder to end all grudge-holders. 

              An older fellow, a corn and soybean farmer, invited us to visit and before we had time to warm the seats of the chairs in his white two story farmhouse, he proceeded to give us some “important information.”  Another family in the church, he proclaimed, was not the faithful, unselfish, godly family they claimed to be.  Then one by one he listed all the “wrongs” they had done him, most of which amounted to being more prosperous than he.  They surely must have sinned to get that way!

              Keith was older and more experienced than I.  He saw through the “helpful” manner this man had adopted, and before his list was complete, Keith had asked a few probing questions that left him flummoxed.  Somehow this was not going the way he expected it would.  When we left that day, he had not accomplished his mission at all, which is entirely as it should have been.  When someone comes running to pour garbage on you, step aside as quickly as possible.  The truth will out, and before long the fruits we saw in both families made apparent who was and was not “faithful.”

              If I had just finished the faith study I had written back then, it would have been obvious to even me.  After all that research, the huge lists of passages I had, and the categories I eventually sorted them into, I found several mentioning circumstances that require “extra” faith to handle.  One of them made me laugh out loud at first, then it made me sit back and say, “Well, of course.”

              In Luke 17, Peter, somewhat proudly, asked the Lord if forgiving someone seven times wasn’t a “gracious” plenty.  No, Jesus tells him.  Not seven times, but seventy times seven.  I am positive Peter got the point—there should be no end to forgiving others; there must be no “last straw”--because he immediately exclaimed, “Lord!  Increase our faith!”  He understood that a failure to forgive is a sign of weak faith.

              I have puzzled over how those two things are connected for quite awhile now.  Finally I see two possibilities. 

              First, God says He will avenge me; I don’t have to worry about doing it myself.  Not to believe that is to question the love and care God has for me, a love He demonstrated in no uncertain terms when He gave His only begotten Son.  Of course He will avenge me.  If I don’t believe that, I may as well not believe the incarnation of the Lord.

              And then this:  do I believe that God will forgive me an infinite number of times?  I am supposed to be His child, striving to become like Him.  If I can’t forgive, then maybe I don’t believe He forgives, and if He doesn’t forgive, then my whole belief system is flawed.  Why do I bother?

              Our American culture tends to laud as strong those who fight back, take revenge, and hold grudges.  “That’s going too far,” and, “I just won’t take that,” has been uttered in countless movies by “the strong, silent type.”  And what do we all do?  We applaud the man who finally refuses to turn the other cheek.  We admire the man who fights back.  We approve the man who chooses not to forget the sins against him—the one who says, “I’ll never be hurt again.” 

              What if God said those things about us?  Aren’t you shivering in your boots to realize where you would be if God hadn’t said instead, “Your sins I will remember no more,” and “Though your sins be as scarlet they shall be as white as snow?”  Aren’t you thrilled beyond measure to read the inspired words of John, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness?” (Jer 31:34; Isa 1: 18; 1 John 1:9) 

              Do you ever find yourself wanting to tell everyone about the people you think have mistreated you?  You and that old Illinois farmer are standing in the same shoes.  Take off those shoes for you are standing on the Holy Ground of a God who loves and forgives to an infinite measure.  If you want to stand with Him, you must forgive in the same way.

              “Lord, increase our faith.”
 
Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord." Romans 12:19.
 
Dene Ward      

We heat with wood.  A thirty-six-year-old Ashley wood stove sits in the heart of our home—the kitchen and family room area.  Our boys grew up watching their father labor with a chainsaw, axe, and splitting maul, eventually helping him load the eighteen inch lengths of wood into the pickup bed and then onto the wood racks.  Every time a friend or neighbor lost a tree or several large limbs fell, the phone rang, and the three of them set off for a Saturday’s worth of work that kept us warm for a few days and the heating bill down where we could pay it.

            At first those small boys could only carry one log at a time, and a small one at that.  Wood is heavy if still unseasoned, and always rough and unwieldy.  By the time they were 10, an armful numbered two or three standard logs, even the lighter, seasoned ones.  They were 16 or older before they could come close to their father’s armload of over half a dozen logs, and grown men before they could match him log for log.  Even that is a small amount of wood.  In a damped woodstove, it might last half the night, but on an open fire barely an hour.

              So I laugh when I see pictures of an 8-10 year old Isaac carrying four or five “sticks” up Mt Moriah behind his father Abraham.  To carry the amount of wood necessary to burn a very wet animal sacrifice, Isaac had to have been grown, or nearly so, not less than 16 or 17, and probably older and more filled out.  In fact, in the very next chapter, Genesis 23, Isaac is 37 years old.  In chapter 21, his weaning, he is somewhere between 3 and 8, probably the older end, so all we can say for certain is he is between 3 and 37 at the time of his offering.  Our experience with wood carrying tells me that he was far older than most people envision.

              Do you realize what that means?  This may well have been a test of Abraham’s faith, but it also shows that Isaac’s faith was not far behind his father’s.  He could easily have over-powered his father, a man probably two decades north of 100, and gotten away.  He, too, trusted that God would provide, even as he lay himself down on that altar and watched his father raise his hand.

              How did he know?  Because he watched God provide everyday of his life.  He saw his father’s relationship with God, heard his prayers and watched his offerings, witnessed the decisions he made every day based solely on the belief in God’s promises, and his absolute obedience even when it hurt, like sending his brother Ishmael away (Gen 21:12-14). Isaac did not know a time when his family did not trust God, so he did too.  “God will provide” made perfect sense to him.

              When that young man carried that hefty load of wood up that mountain, he went with a purpose, based upon the example of his father’s faith and his Father’s faithfulness.  Would your children be willing to carry that wood?
 
The living, the living, he thanks you, as I do this day; the father makes known to the children your faithfulness. Isaiah 38:19
 
Dene Ward