It happened again.  I had thought and hoped that the habit had died out because people were finally paying closer attention to what they were reading, but no, once again I was hearing modest apparel “shoehorned” into Matt 5:27,28.  You have heard that it was said, 'You shall not commit adultery.' But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart. It’s one thing to mention in passing that the problem in question is sometimes caused by scanty clothing.  It’s another thing entirely to turn what Jesus meant to be addressed to men—that they are to practice self-control—and turn it into a diatribe against women.

            In fact, while we are on this matter of correct hermeneutics, let’s also point out that the phrase “modest apparel” in the New Testament never refers to under-dressing, but only overdressing, at least in the old versions.

            Does that mean I think women should be allowed to run around half to three quarters naked as they tend to do this time of year, especially where I live?  I was the mother of two teenaged boys.  I greatly resented the sea of shapely legs they had to face while trying to pass the Lord’s Supper on Sunday mornings.  More than once I wanted to hit the baptistery dressing rooms for a towel or two to throw over bare thighs as well as the naked shoulders and backs sticking out of sundresses.  Besides, they were the ones always complaining about being cold, so why didn’t they cover up?!

            But I can find much better passages of scriptures without trying to squeeze a topic in one where it doesn’t belong.  How about all those scriptures about lasciviousness?  That’s exactly what it is when a woman dresses to excite a man’s lust.  You fathers are shirking your duty when you let your daughters out of the house looking like that, especially when they don’t even realize what they are doing, and most especially since you are men and know what’s going on in other men’s minds.  Take your heads out of the sand and start being parents!

            Here is a passage you might not have thought of.  Because they wore those knee length ephods when serving in their duties, the priests under the old covenant had a problem women in dresses and skirts can relate to (Ex 20:26).  One must be careful where and how one stands and sits in clothes like that.

            “Moses!” God said.  “Make those men some britches!” (Ex 28:42).

            Some people will tell you that God doesn’t care what we wear, but these passages tell us it does matter to him, though perhaps not in the way we like to think.  He plainly tells us not to make distinctions in the assembly between those with fine clothes and those with poor clothes (James 2).  What does matter to him is this—we must not disrespect our service to him by what we wear during that service.  Those priests so long ago were expected to cover up what needed to be covered when they offered sacrifices.  Peter tells us that as part of the new Israel we are priests (1 Pet 2:9).  Paul says we offer up our sacrifices (which only priests are allowed to do) in our daily lives (Rom 12:1,2).  As such God expects us to cover up what needs to be covered while we are doing it.

            I am a priest whenever I serve my family, my brethren, or my community.  That means when I am shopping at the mall, working in the yard, or having coffee with a neighbor, not just in the meetinghouse on Sunday morning.  As a priest I would be profaning my sacred duty if I dressed in a way that caused lust instead of causing others to glorify God.  The same would be true if my dress aroused disgust.  And this applies to all of us, not just the women in this royal priesthood.

            Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Matthew records Jesus telling the men to control themselves.  By not mentioning any of the possible provocations, he is emphasizing the fact that none of them will excuse a man who lusts after a woman.  Neither what she is wearing nor what she is not wearing will make a difference on the Day of Judgment, no matter how many try to shoehorn it in there.
 
[The] priests have done violence to my law, and have profaned my holy things: they have made no distinction between the holy and the common, neither have they caused men to discern between the unclean and the clean, and have hid their eyes from my Sabbaths, and I am profaned among them… And I sought for a man among them that should build up the wall, and stand in the gap before me for the land, that I should not destroy it; but I found none. Therefore have I poured out my indignation upon them; I have consumed them with the fire of my wrath: their own way have I brought upon their heads, says the Lord Jehovah. Ezek 22:26,30,31.
 
Dene Ward

Yes that is actually the topic for the day.  How is it that the thing that cleans us best (soap) is the same thing that makes some of the ugliest, hardest to remove dirt in the bathtub (soap scum)?  And if you do begin to get some of that flaky, grayish-white stuff removed as you scrub your knuckles off, but do not get it all, things look even worse.  How many times have I looked down, arms aching and out of breath, only to find white lines down the sides instead of a completely white tub, and had to start yet again?  Not just anything will remove soap scum. 

            Which made me sit and think awhile and yes, there may even be a spiritual application to soap scum!  Jesus told a parable about a sower.  Some of the seeds which fell among the thorns, these are they that have heard, and as they go on their way they are choked with cares and riches and pleasures of this life, and bring no fruit to perfection.  Luke 8:14

            When we read that parable we tend to think that all the “other grounds” besides the good ground are wicked things.  Not so here.  The cares of life can be anything from worrying about paying the bills to becoming workaholics.  Riches, though dangerous, are not necessarily sinful.  Pleasures can be hobbies and entertainment.  None of these things is inherently sinful, in fact, they can be therapeutic when we need rest or when our children need our attention on a one-on-one level.  They can build relationships with brethren. They can establish bonds with neighbors who we might then be able to teach.  They can support our families.  BUT------

            If those things are not managed wisely, they can choke out the Word.  They can keep us from prayer and meditation, from study time, from extra time in the Word offered by the elders in the way of classes, lectures, and gospel meetings.  No, you may not be actively sinning, but are you neglecting God in other ways?  Are you choking Him out of your life?

            These are the hardest things to “weed out” precisely because they are not wrong.  Consider this:  don’t you as a parent look out for your child by limiting the things--the perfectly good things--he becomes involved in?  I hope you do.  No child should be robbed of his childhood by a parent who overschedules him with every activity he can find in an effort to offer him “enrichment.”  As a piano teacher I saw too many of my students nearly fall asleep on the bench because they were too tired—even 6 year olds!  More than once I told a parent that his child was not making the progress he should because he did not have the time to practice.  He might as well quit lessons—he certainly needed to drop out of something!  I even had some parents learn that the hard way when a child had what we called in the old days a “nervous breakdown.”

            Your children learn it from you.  Are you too busy to study your Bible in the evening?  Are you too busy to visit the sick and the widows?  Are you too busy to attend an extra Bible class?  Then something needs to go.  The cares and pleasures of your life are choking out the Word.

            This morning walk into your bathroom and look at the tub.  Remind yourself that even good things can produce bad consequences.  All that sudsy, good-smelling soap we use in the shower can leave an ugly scum that needs to be removed before we can even claim that our bathroom is clean.  The same thing is true of your life.   
 
Look therefore carefully how you walk, not as unwise, but as wise; redeeming the time, because the days are evil. Wherefore be not foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. Eph 5:15-17
 
Dene Ward

Back in the late 19th century a man named William Smart lost his wife in childbirth.  Somehow he managed to raise that infant and the five older children all on his own while supporting them all as well.  When his daughter Sonora Dodd grew up, she finally realized what an amazing feat that had been and how much her father had sacrificed for all of them.  She asked her minister to preach a sermon honoring fathers on June 5, 1909, her father’s birthday.  Evidently she did not give the man enough notice so the sermon did not occur until June 19 that year, the third Sunday of the month.

           It became a tradition there and gradually spread.  A national holiday in honor of fathers was supported by Calvin Coolidge but was not made official until 1966 by President Lyndon Johnson.

            When we discussed Mother’s Day I hope you remember that parenting magazine I spoke of that offered a list of things for moms to do since no one ever bothered doing anything for them [it opined], thirty-one items totaling nearly $1000.  The next month, Father’s Day month, that same magazine “celebrated Pop culture” with an article taking up less than a fourth of one page, the rest being filled with a 72 point font title and a picture of a dad playing with a little girl. 

            And what were we supposed to do for dads?  Four measly items, none of which cost a penny, and two of which were not even directed toward the fathers.  Read a book called Animal Dads.  Teach your kids how to say, “Dad,” in several other languages.  Help your kids learn some silly jokes to make their dads laugh.  Make sure they have breakfast with their dads at least once that month.  Evidently fathers are not worth a whole lot.

            While I don’t espouse spending nearly $1000 doing something every day of June for fathers any more than I did for mothers in May, doesn’t this strike you as incredibly biased?  Yet it all fits in with our society’s downplaying of the importance of the role of father.

            You haven’t noticed?  How long has it been since we have regularly had television shows with strong, intelligent fathers?  No, instead, if you get a father at all he is a buffoon on the order of Tim “the Tool Man” Taylor, an uncultured, clumsy, immature, dare I say “stupid” clod, who must constantly be pulled out of trouble by his smarter, wiser, more responsible wife.  Or you get a family without a father or with too many fathers, or simply a work-based sitcom because career is the center of everyone’s life now.

            Add The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan to the sexual revolution of the sixties and you get a society that believes a nuclear family is no longer necessary.  Women don’t need men except as sperm donors; they can raise their children alone just fine, thank you.  And while that may get you a few more women who no longer feel guilty about making their professional level careers the most important part of their lives, women who can afford nannies or other private care, it also gets you the rise of “the feminization of poverty,” as Mona Charen puts it in her op-ed pieces.  There are far more Wal-Mart cashiers and diner waitresses trying to make a living for their kids than there are female doctors and lawyers.  They were told they didn’t need a man and they believed it, so their children are being raised by grandparents or daycare center workers or simply being left alone at home, and they are pinching pennies trying to feed them and keep them warm in the evenings.  The media perpetuates the myth and more young women are taken in because they grew up on television shows with scripts—one crisis and suddenly we have a breakthrough and everyone lives happily ever after, all in thirty minutes.  Unfortunately, we are living real lives not following scripts with rosy endings.

            When God made the first family, He made a mother and a father—one each.  There may be legitimate times when that cannot happen, but we should be trying to help those single parents and deprived children, filling in as missing role models rather than telling them it doesn’t matter.  How will we ever have a nation of strong fathers if there are no examples for our sons to follow?  How will fathers ever realize how important they are when we minimize and marginalize those men as if they were nuisances instead of necessities?

            If your father is still alive, I hope you tell him how much you appreciate him.  If your husband is being the kind of father he ought to be, I hope you let him know how much you appreciate him.  If you are a dad, I hope you know that you are necessary to the lives of your children.  That is what God had to say about the matter—don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.
 
Hear, my sons, the instruction of a father, and attend to know understanding; for I give you good doctrine; forsake not my law.  For I was a son unto my father, tender and only beloved in the sight of my mother.  And he taught me and said to me, let your heart retain my words, keep my commandment and live, Prov 4:1-4.
 
Dene Ward

I sat watching the birds a few days ago after returning from a trip, dog-tired and mind in a whirl.  I suddenly noticed the cardinals in the azaleas—six males perched on various branches, for once getting along instead of dive-bombing each other in a territorial squabble over the feeder.  Six bright red birds each with that signature crest standing high and “on alert.”  I have gotten so used to them, so jaded by having them right outside my window to wonder at virtually any time of day, that I had forgotten how beautiful they were.  In fact, I remembered a week or so before when I had wished them out of the way of the pudgy, little, brown wren so I could see him better.  He only comes once every few days, you see.

              Today is 42 years.  Have I gotten used to Keith that way?  He is there every morning and back every evening, after spending a day providing for me.  He calls every day after lunch to make sure I am all right.  On the weekends he is right outside the door, taking care of our things, repairing, improving, growing a garden to feed us well, and then making it look the way he knows I want it to.  When I have a bad day, a rough appointment, or a difficult surgery, he is always there to take care of me.  He has never once had a thought of betrayal or abandonment.  Have I forgotten just how glorious our relationship is?

            It is easy to see someone new and think he is more exciting.  It is easy to find someone’s interest thrilling, especially if she is a little younger.  Remember what drew you to your spouse in the beginning, the charm, the beauty, the stimulating conversations, and the common interests and goals in life.  Don’t think a pudgy brown wren is as beautiful as a bright red cardinal just because it’s the new chick in town.

            Despite the world’s scorn of marriage, God pictures it as a beautiful relationship, one he wanted with his people. 

            You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate, but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her, and your land Married; for the LORD delights in you, and your land shall be married. For as a young man marries a young woman, so shall your sons marry you, and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you, Isa 62:4,5. And I will betroth you to me forever. I will betroth you to me in righteousness and in justice, in steadfast love and in mercy. I will betroth you to me in faithfulness. And you shall know the LORD, Hos 2:19,20.

            If that is God’s view of marriage, why do we stand by and let others demean it?  Worse, why do we not live up to its promises ourselves, for a relationship is only what two people make of it.

            A couple of years ago I almost literally bumped into an older gentleman at the grocery store.  He smiled and asked a question about some product on the shelf and then I went on my way, down the aisle, around, and back up the next.  He had done the same going his direction and so we once again passed and he made another comment.  I am a little slow.  It took the third or fourth time for me to realize what was up, and I casually mentioned “my husband.”  That was all it took.  He was polite but never bothered me again.  Here was a man who respected the institution.  He was interested, but not with a married woman.  He would not be, in the old parlance, “a home-wrecker.”

            I see little of that respect today.  A marriage is made to break just like any other contract, whenever it no longer suits us.  Working things out, growing through our trials, supporting one another “for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part,” are empty words recited for tradition’s sake and nothing more.  If I see someone I want, who cares if he is married?  That takes a mere pen stroke to undo.  In fact, why bother going through all that rigmarole in the first place?

            My opinion of marriage should be the same as my Father’s.  He thought so much of it that he used it to pattern his Son’s body, the church, “The Bride of Christ.” That he might present the church to himself, glorious…This mystery [marriage] is great: but I speak in regard of Christ and of the church, Eph 5:27, 32.  Full of glory, that’s how Christ sees his Bride.

            Have we grown jaded to this marvelous relationship, graciously given by a loving Father who knew what was best for us, and like many other things, corrupted its very nature to the point that it means little to nothing except a nuisance we must somehow put up with?  We might as well think the same of the Father who gave it. 

            Don’t get too used to the glory.
 
For your Maker is your husband, the LORD of hosts is his name; and the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer, the God of the whole earth he is called, Isa 54:5.
 
Dene Ward

He never gets any attention; she gets it all.  Any sacrifice on his part is not mentioned.  Any responsibility placed on his shoulders is not recognized.  You would think he was unnecessary to the plan, but you would be wrong.

            In a Jewish family, the man was definitely the head of the house.  He was responsible not only for providing for his family, but for their protection and their religious upbringing. This man did it all, without complaint and without receiving any glory, other than an almost casual mention.  He evidently died young and never even saw the promise come to pass, even after a lifetime of bearing ridicule or shame, depending upon who was talking about him, in order to help it happen.

            Like another Joseph before him he was the son of Jacob (Matt 1:16).  He thought he had chosen well, a young lady--very young by our standards--from a good family, also in the lineage of David.  The kiddushin had begun, the year of betrothal, and suddenly his world turned upside down.  His wife, for so his betrothed one was called though they as yet were not married, had turned up pregnant, at least three months by the time he found out.  Now what?

            He was a kind man who would not shame her, so he was ready to seek a quiet divorce (1:19), the only way to end a betrothal.  But God sent the angel Gabriel to reassure him.  Mary was not lying, she was not hallucinating.  She really was pregnant, but not by another man.  She had not been unfaithful to him.  God was the father of this unborn child, and he was putting that child’s safety and well-being into the hands of Joseph.

            So Joseph was faced with this horrible shame for the rest of his life.  Either people would think he had no self-control, that he and Mary had committed fornication as many were still saying thirty-three years later (John 8:41), or they would think he was a cuckold, too weak to put her away.  Joseph could have been consumed with pride in either case and simply said no, but he didn’t.  He took Mary as his wife.

            Almost immediately he found himself in danger of King Herod, a cruel and ruthless man who had no problem killing his own sons, much less someone else’s.  Joseph found himself fleeing to a land several hundred miles distant to save the life of a child that not only delayed his marriage but put his own life in danger, a child that was not even his.  Yet he fulfilled his duty to protect and provide, finally returning to his home town Nazareth, where all the gossips lived, and working his whole life to provide food, clothing, and shelter, and teaching this child a trade, just as if he were his own.  Somehow he managed to overlook the problems this woman had caused him, and raised a large family with her, at least four more sons and uncounted daughters (Mark 6:3).

            They tell women that men have fragile egos, that we should be careful of the things we say and do, things that might make him feel less a man.  No one watched out for Joseph’s ego.  He took it all, evidently without a word, simply because he was a righteous man who lived by faith.  He fulfilled his duty, never expecting and never receiving any glory in this life.  He took care of a child who changed the world.  He kept him safe, and helped raise him to be able to fulfill his own duty, one even harder than Joseph’s. 

            We often point out the great humility of Jesus.  Seems to me he “got it honest” as we so often say.  He had a great example in his “father.”  What kind of example are you leaving your children—that of someone who needs praise in order to feel manly, or someone who simply fulfills the obligations God has laid on his shoulders, regardless the inconvenience and pain, and whether anyone else notices or not?
 
For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned, Rom 12:3.
 
Dene Ward

I remember visiting my grandmothers when I was a child, sometimes just a day, sometimes a weekend, and once or twice a whole week after we moved away.  It was usually summer and neither of them had air conditioners, and though I know it was as hot as it is nowadays, I don’t remember it.  I sat on their front porches much of the day, the swing making its own breeze as I dangled my bare feet over the cool, smooth, gray-painted plank floor.  One porch was out in the country next to a grove of oranges and kumquats with horses grazing in the pasture behind it.  The other was in the middle of town, its steps fronting on Main Street, and we would watch people go by as we hid in the cool shade behind a morning glory vine growing up and across the porch columns and over the roof.

            My grandmothers never tired of talking to me, answering every question I asked, telling stories of “the olden days” that fascinated me because they seemed so foreign to my life.  I couldn’t imagine a house with no electricity and no running water.  I couldn’t imagine life with no television set droning on in the background. 

            I enjoyed those times with my parents too, their stories of playing without real toys, Christmases that brought an orange and some nuts and maybe a little hard candy in a stocking, and washing clothes with a wringer washer.  I remember my mother telling about her grandmother, a woman who rose before light to make a breakfast of pork chops, eggs, grits, gravy, and biscuits every morning while the men were out doing the first chores, a meal filling enough to last them through a day of hard farm work in southern Georgia. 

            My own boys liked to ask about our childhoods while we sat shucking corn every summer.  Silking was their job, tedious work that invited a lot of talking and listening just to keep yourself going until it was done.   Their dad grew up on the side of a hill in the Ozarks in an old stone house without running water, only bare light bulbs in each room, and a bucket of drinking water in the kitchen on which his mother would sometimes have to break a layer of ice on a cold winter morning.  He could tell stories about milking cows before school at the age of 6, a small school where two grades sat in each class, about pushing his bed up against the chimney in the unfinished attic to stay warm, and taking baths on the back porch in the summer.

            Sharing these things is important.  This is the way one generation connects to the next.  Knowing where we came from answers many of the natural longings we all have, and helps us to find meaning in our lives.  I worry about the children now, who scarcely have any time with their parents at all, much less enough time for stories about their pasts and the questions that should instantly follow.  It also leads to questions and stories about more important things, and makes them far more willing to listen to you when it counts.

            God has always expected his people to make time to talk to their children.

            And when in time to come your son asks you, 'What does this mean?' you shall say to him, 'By a strong hand the LORD brought us out of Egypt, from the house of slavery. For when Pharaoh stubbornly refused to let us go, the LORD killed all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both the firstborn of man and the firstborn of animals. Therefore I sacrifice to the LORD all the males that first open the womb, but all the firstborn of my sons I redeem.' It shall be as a mark on your hand or frontlets between your eyes, for by a strong hand the LORD brought us out of Egypt." Ex 13:14-16.

            And Joshua said to them, "Pass on before the ark of the LORD your God into the midst of the Jordan, and take up each of you a stone upon his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the people of Israel, that this may be a sign among you. When your children ask in time to come, 'What do those stones mean to you?' then you shall tell them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the LORD. When it passed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. So these stones shall be to the people of Israel a memorial forever." Josh 4:5-7.

            When your son asks you in time to come, 'What is the meaning of the testimonies and the statutes and the rules that the LORD our God has commanded you?' then you shall say to your son, 'We were Pharaoh's slaves in Egypt. And the LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand. Deut 6:20-21.

            What happens when a generation arises that doesn’t know these things? And also all that generation were gathered unto their fathers: and there arose another generation after them, that knew not Jehovah, nor yet the work which he had wrought for Israel. And the children of Israel did that which was evil in the sight of Jehovah, Judg 2:10,11.

            That’s why this is so important.  Talk to your children today, or your grandchildren, or even your neighbor’s children.  Make a connection to them that will bring them closer to you and through that, closer to God.  If you think you don’t have the time, then give something up.  Providing them a physical inheritance isn’t nearly as important as providing them a spiritual one.

            Find yourself a “front porch” and make use of it before it’s too late.
 
Telling to the generation to come the praises of Jehovah, And his strength, and his wondrous works that he has done. That the generation to come might know, even the children that should be born; Who should arise and tell it to their children, That they might set their hope in God, And not forget the works of God, But keep his commandments, Psalm 78:4,6,7.
 
Dene Ward

In Florida “winter” means very little, but a year or so ago we had a different sort of winter—long cold spells with lows below freezing and highs only in the 40s, and frosts as late as April.  Snow fell in the panhandle and in the north central peninsula.  Usually we are sorry to see the heat return, but that year we were longing for it.

            The spring was different too.  The azaleas bloomed two months later, and all at the same time, so profusely you couldn’t even see the branches.  The blueberries had more fruit on them than any time in the five years past.  The hostas not only came up again but multiplied, sending up four plants where each one plant sat the year before.  The spring wildflowers were beautiful, turning fields first into blankets of blue and lavender, then red and maroon, and finally pink and white.  The oak pollen fell so thickly the lawn looked like wall to wall brown carpeting.  And the garden produced better than it had in years.

            I wondered, could one thing have to do with the other?  Could a long, hard winter be the cause of good crops and beautiful flowers in the spring?

            And they arrested [Peter and John] and put them in custody until the next day because it was already evening.  But many of those who heard the word believed and the number of men came to about five thousand, Acts 4:3,4.  That is not the only case in the New Testament where rapid growth of the kingdom followed hard on the heels of persecution.  A long hard winter of trial always seemed to make for a springtime of growth among God’s people. 

            Then there is the personal aspect.  I have seen so many times how a personal trial has led to spiritual growth in a Christian.  I have experienced it myself.  Something about trial inures us to the pains that might otherwise cost us our souls.  We grow stronger little by little, gradually learning the lessons of faith, endurance and strength in the service of God.

            That may be why I cringe when I see a young mother turn every little scrape on the knee or cut on the finger into a life-threatening crisis worthy of the loudest wails, instead of helping her child learn to laugh it off.  I have seen too many of those children grow into men and women who complain about everything that does not go their way.   If it’s okay to whine and cry like the world is ending when you fall and skin your knees, why isn’t it okay to scream at other drivers who get in your way?  If it’s okay to pout and mope when you don’t get to play your favorite video game, why isn’t it okay to complain long and loud when the boss asks you to work overtime?  If it’s okay to pitch a fit when some mean adult tells you to straighten up, why isn’t it okay to stand in the parking lot complaining about the church, the preachers, the elders, and anyone else who doesn’t see things your way?

            God needs people who are strong, who can take pain and suffering for His sake, who understand that their way doesn’t really matter if it is not His way, and that the good of the kingdom and its mission may have nothing to do with them having an easy, perfect life here in this world, but everything to do with a perfect life in the next. 

            Just as with everything else, our culture is affecting us.  The strong silent type who can take the worst the world has to offer and keep going is no longer the hero.  Instead we reward jerks and boors and idolize intemperance.  Prodigality and lavish lifestyles are our measure of success; striking back is our measure of character, and throwing tantrums is our measure of strength. 

            I see a day coming when the church will once again be in the middle of a long, hard winter of persecution.  The way we are going we may not survive it at all, let alone have a bountiful spring, because trials and persecution only work to build strength when you learn from them.  They only produce character when you have the toughness to take the bad with the good without whining about it.

            What kind of spring will you have next year?
 
And not only so but we rejoice in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation works steadfastness; and steadfastness approvedness; and approvedness hope; and hope puts not to shame, because the love of God has been shed abroad in our hearts through the Holy Spirit which was given unto us,  Rom 5:3-5.
 
Dene Ward

On May 9, 1914, President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed the second Sunday in May to be Mother’s Day, "as a public expression of love and reverence for the mothers of our country."  I wonder what he would make of the way some folks view that day today.
          
            Last week I read two articles, each in a different magazine, about how to celebrate Mother’s Day all month long.

            The first was “Thirty-One Ways to Indulge Yourself,” a day by day guide through the month of May, “because no one ever takes care of you.”  I read through the calendar, at first smiling and sighing a little, but gradually growing more and more perturbed.  The list included things like, “Hire a handyman for a day to do all those chores your husband never gets to.”  “Go for a massage, at least a full half-hour appointment.”  “Get a pedicure and buy at least two new colors of nail polish.”  “Buy yourself a new piece of jewelry.”  I added up the entire list—readers were encouraged to do it all—and even estimating low (like costume jewelry instead of the real thing), I came up with a total of nearly $1000.00.

            A thousand dollars in one month would have made a mortgage payment, bought the groceries, AND paid the gasoline and electric bills when my children were still at home. 

            I am a mother--I understand that, as a general rule, mothers are overworked.  I tell every young couple that they should realize from the get-go that every young mother is always tired from the double whammy of pregnancy and delivery, followed by the constant care of a little person who does not understand schedules yet, and every young father always feels stressed from the realization that he is now responsible not only for another body, but as spiritual leader of the home, another soul as well.  In addition he is constantly bewildered by his young wife’s raging hormones, hormones she herself is disconcerted by and trying to control.  This is the nature of the job you have taken upon yourselves.  The whole process can be overwhelming.  But no one has the right to bankrupt her family because she is feeling weary. 

            The other magazine article was deceptively similar.  However, the words “almost free” and “for real moms” were also in the title.  Rather than 31 items laid out on a calendar, one for every day of the month, it was a list of 23 to choose from.  Evidently this writer understood that “real moms” have neither the time nor money to play every day.  What did they include?  “Free up the driveway and create some elaborate chalk art with your children.”  “Catch fireflies, minnows, or other tinies in a clean jar; take a good long look and maybe a photo or two, then let them go.”  “Declare a spa day with your kids, sipping smoothies by the (wading) pool, and giving each other manis and pedis.”  “Draw a comic book together, then make copies so the kids can share them with their friends.”  Are you noticing a difference here?

            Now let me add this bit of information to the mix.  One article was in Parenting.  The other was in a quarterly publication put out for customers of the grocery chain Lucas worked for at the time.  This is obvious, right?  The “experts” understand that young parents first, live on a budget, and second, need encouragement and suggestions for how to spend more “quality” time (I hate that phrase!) with their children, teaching them such things as core values and priorities, and the other magazine was interested in boosting retail sales during a sagging economy.  Wrong.  Parenting is the magazine suggesting that all young mothers go out and spend a good chunk of the family’s income pampering themselves for a solid month.  I am actually proud of Lucas’s company.  If I still had children at home, we would have probably done quite a few of the things they suggested.  The total cost for the whole list was about $10, and it also included some volunteer work.

            Now is it any wonder that elders and preachers regularly warn the church about non-Christian counselors, therapists, and mentors?  Is it any wonder that the average family is falling apart at the seams and couples are deep in debt?  Can you understand why this is also affecting the church?

            Parenting is a commitment just as much as Christianity is.  God has entrusted precious souls to you, and He expects them returned in good shape, better in fact than when He gave them to you.  A mother, or father for that matter, who folds when it requires sacrifice—major sacrifice—is not worthy of the name.

            When you become a parent, it is surprising how fast the feelings overwhelm you.  Love for your child is not just strong, it is fierce.  At least it should be.  It is exactly that fierceness that keeps you going when you lose sleep, when your body aches, and when your heart breaks because of the trials of parenting.  Nothing in this world is worth losing your child or his soul.  That is what the so-called experts need to be teaching us these days.  We already have enough selfish people out there who want the title without doing the job.
 
Can a woman forget her sucking child that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb?…As a father pities his children, so Jehovah pities those who fear him…If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more shall your father who is in Heaven, give good things to those that ask him, Isa 49:15; Psalm 103:13; Matt 7:11.
 
Dene Ward

You know the story so I won’t go into much detail here.  Pharaoh had ordered the Hebrew baby boys killed and one mother had enough faith to put her infant in a lovingly woven and waterproofed basket in the Nile River.  Pharaoh’s daughter came to the river to bathe and found him, and his alert and very smart big sister offered to get him a Hebrew nurse—one who just happened to be his mother.
 
           And so Moses was raised by two mothers.  Jochebed kept him close to her those first years, probably as many as five to eight, before she weaned him.  But nursing was not all she did.  She taught him who he was, who his people were, and who his God was.  She did an amazing job.  In those few years she made him strong enough to stand against the temptations of wealth the like of which we have probably never seen.  And that wealth was not just contrasted with poverty, but with some of the most oppressive slavery imaginable. 

            After that Moses lived in the palace with his “foster” mother for thirty years or more.  She undoubtedly lavished him with luxury and provided him with one of the best secular educations of the time.  Just look at the pyramids if you think those people were ignorant.  He became so much an Egyptian that he even looked like one (Ex 2:19).

            So here is our point today:  Which mother am I?  Do I check on their schoolwork, but never make sure their Bible lessons are done?  Do I even know if they have their lesson book and Bible with them when we leave the house Sunday morning?  Do I teach them how to make a budget and live within their means, but never teach them how to make time for prayer and Bible study?  Do I make sure they get to school but actually give them a choice about whether they go to church or not?  Do I teach them the social etiquette of what to wear at which occasion but never teach them about modesty?  Do I teach them the Bill of Rights but never talk about giving up those rights for the sake of the gospel and peoples’ souls?  Do I teach them to save for their financial security but never teach how to keep their souls secure?

            Your child knows what you think is most important.  He will take his cue from you.  Are you a Pharaoh’s daughter or a Jochebed?
 
By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter; choosing rather to share ill treatment with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season; accounting the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt: for he looked unto the recompense of reward. Heb 11:24-26
 
Dene Ward

It must be a Southern thing.  We have a tendency to call the people we love after food—honey, honey pie, honey bun, and honey bunch; sweetie, sweet pea, and sweetie pie; muffin, dumplin’ and punkin’, baby cakes and cupcake, sugar and sugar plum.

            Speaking of sugar, that’s my favorite term for hugs and kisses from little ones.  Whenever a child is in my lap, I will kiss the top of his head every 15 seconds or so and not even realize it.   My own children probably have indentations there from several thousand kisses a year, just counting church time.  My grandchildren are learning it now.  And they love it.  I remember kissing Silas’s cheek once when he was two and having him run to his mama to tell her, “Grandma got sugar!” with a big grin on his face.

            Little Judah especially loves the sugar game.  The last time we were together after I had leaned over and gotten some “neck sugar” and “cheek sugar,” he grabbed his buddies and started kissing them.  First Tiger, then Marshall, and finally he even balled up a wad of blankie and gave it a kiss.  “Are you getting sugar?” I asked, and he smiled his contented little bashful smile and nodded his head yes.

            Children revel in the knowledge that they are loved.  It feeds a healthy self-esteem and gives them the feelings of security needed when they are out there trying things out and learning about their world.  Failure doesn’t matter when you are loved.

            And that is why a patently obvious love is absolutely essential to discipline.  If you are the kind of parent you ought to be—setting boundaries and punishing inappropriate behavior from early on—your child needs to know that you love him more than life itself.  He needs to hear those words and feel the warmth in your voice and your arms and your heart.  Then it won’t matter that you punished him yesterday.  He will know you love him and will try even harder to please you.

            It isn’t all hugs and kisses.  The older they get, the less that works.  But you can still show it with words of appreciation, pride, and approval.  Have you ever told your children how much it means to you when they behave in public?  How wonderful it is that you don’t have to worry what they might do in someone else’s home?  What a special gift it is in the middle of a stressful situation to know they are one thing you don’t have to worry about, that you can take them anywhere any time and they won’t act up, that it makes you want them with you even more?  Do you think that saying those things might help them behave a little better?

            If all they hear are complaints, growls, screams, and great heaving sighs of frustration and anger, all of them hurled in their direction, what do you think they will think about your feelings toward them?  Even when they are very young, they can feel the tensions.  Even when they do not understand the words, they will know something isn’t quite right.  And they will always think it’s their fault and that’s why you don’t love them.  Even when it’s your fault for not having disciplined them correctly or soon enough.  Three or four hugs will get them past a deserved and justified spanking.  It will take thirty to undo the hurt of an angry, sarcastic parent.

            The last time Silas was with us I told him how proud I was of him, the way he took his medicine without fuss, the way he sat still in church and behaved in Bible class, the way he always brushed and flossed his teeth without having to be told.  I told him how proud I was of how he took care of his little brother.  He looked up at me the whole time, his attention never wavering, with his eyes shining and a big smile on his face. 

           “I love you, Grandma,” he said.
           
           And of course, I got some sugar too. 
 
As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him…and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, Ps 103:13; Titus 2:4.
 
Dene Ward