Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.

When we started gardening in Illinois, the second year of our marriage, I wanted a hoe like the one I grew up using.  I could not find one in any of the hardware stores. This hoe has two opposite blades with a hole in the center: One blade is narrow, about an inch or an inch and a half wide, and works wonderfully for laying out rows; the other blade spreads to about 4 inches wide and works well for chopping weeds or breaking up rain-packed beds.  I have never seen another hoe that could do both.  Few other hoes are such heavy gauge steel.  When I was a child, Mom used it in place of a tiller since we never had one of those.  My sister and I were tasked to beat the dirt out of the grass clods and toss the grass aside. Finally, I asked Dad to get me one and he had to order it.  I doubt that he let me pay for it.

We marked a place on the handle with electrical tape to know how far apart to put the garden rows.  For years, I would rent or borrow a tiller in the spring and then that hoe did all our gardening thereafter.  After I got a tiller, one year it rained so much I could not use it and the ground was turning sour and the plants dying.  I stood in mud to my knees, with my feet sunken to the hardpan clay underneath, and hoed the surface to aerate the soil and managed to save our harvest.

A few years ago, the handle rotted some at the end and the hoe tended to rotate so I filled it in with JB Weld.  It finally broke after 38 years of service.  I searched 3 hardware stores before I found a handle.  I put a healthy dose of JB Weld where the hoe would fit and put the hoe in a vise and drove the handle on with a 3 pound hammer.  Then I smoothed the JB Weld on both sides and kept rotating it in the sun so it would not drip until it dried. This hoe should be good for 40 years which is more than you can say for me.

I liked that hoe because it was the kind I grew up with.  Is that why you like your church?

…to make all men see what is the dispensation of the mystery which for ages has been hid in God who created all things; to the intent that now unto the principalities and the powers in the heavenly places might be made known through the church the manifold wisdom of God, according to the eternal purpose which he purposed in Christ Jesus our Lord: Ephesians 3:9-11.

Keith Ward

I was watching the sprinkler zzzt-zzzt-zzzt its way across the garden the other day. Usually the end of April and most of May are dry. The afternoon thundershowers don’t start until the humidity and temperature both reach the 90s, so to keep the garden alive, we have to irrigate. Keith has various methods he uses, a drip hose, a sprinkler, and simple hand-watering, depending upon the crop and its weaknesses. Some plants are more prone to fungus, so you keep their leaves as dry as possible by hand-watering, directing the water to the bottom of the plant. Sometimes Keith spends as long as two hours in an evening watering.

But as soon as the summer rains start, the garden takes off. It becomes obvious that, despite all the time spent, all we did was help the garden survive until the real thing came along. The plants almost explode they grow so much faster and produce so much better. Chemically the water may be the same, but out here in the country everyone knows that irrigation is a distant second to God’s watering.

Should that surprise us? Adam and Eve made themselves aprons of fig leaves. God came along and made them garments of skins. I know which one I had rather wear on a cool evening. Men made gods of stone and wood and metal. Jehovah is a spirit with no beginning or end. I know which one I had rather rely on to take care of me. Under the old covenant, the blood of bulls and goats could only put away the sins for a year at a time. The blood of a perfect, unblemished sacrifice puts them away forever. I know which one I had rather count on for my salvation.

When it comes to God, there is no substitute for the real thing. 

God understands the way to it, and he knows its place. For he looks to the ends of the earth and sees everything under the heavens. When he gave to the wind its weight, and apportioned the waters by measure, when he made a decree for the rain and a way for the lightning of the thunder, then he saw it and declared it, he established it and searched it out. And he said to man, Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding, Job 28:23-28.

 Dene Ward 

Our blueberries have not been particularly bountiful the past few years.  I remember years when over the three or four weeks we were picking, I had enough for four or five pies, two or three dozen giant muffins, blueberry pancakes at least twice, and a dozen jars of jam, and still put fifteen full quarts of berries in the freezer for later use.  This year I didn’t have enough for one muffin.  If blueberries are antioxidants, we may start rusting soon.

When the blueberries are thin I really hate sharing them with the birds.  It would not be so bad if the birds would pick one limb or even one bush out of the twelve we have.  But they flit around pecking a blueberry here and a blueberry there.  Once a bird has pecked a berry just once, it is useless to us.  Yet there is still enough in the one berry for several more pecks if the bird would only take them, and then he would not need to peck so many others!

Satan does the same thing to us.  How many faults do you have?  How many weaknesses do you fight on a daily basis?  If you are a faithful Christian, maybe only a few by now, certainly less than when you started out.  But you know what?  Satan doesn’t need to totally ruin you.  He doesn’t need to turn you into evil personified.  All he needs to do is make you satisfied with just one little fault, only one little thing that you need to work on, because the fewer pecks he makes into your soul, the more likely you are to be satisfied with your progress.  You will look at yourself and say, “I’m doing pretty well.  This one little thing won’t hurt my soul.”  And so you give in, you make excuses, you say to yourself, “That’s just the way I am, and after all, it’s not that bad.  I haven’t killed anyone lately.”  This is not to minimize the need for grace, just the attitude that says, “I’m satisfied where I am.”

So we become a bush full of pecked blueberries, too ruined for those around us to nourish their souls, but not ruined enough for us to think we really need to do something about it.  Is that why the church isn’t growing?  Is that why we no longer have any influence on our neighbors?  Is that why our children are falling away and the future looks so grim? 

Pecked blueberries are useless.  When Satan sends a bird to peck at you, beat him off with a stick if you have to.  One peck can cost you your soul.

But when the righteous turns away from his righteousness and commits iniquity, and does according to the abominations that the wicked man does, shall he live?  None of his righteous deeds that he has done shall be remembered; in his trespass that he has trespassed, and in his sin which he has sinned he shall die…I have no pleasure in the death of him who dies, says the Lord.  Therefore turn and live, Ezekiel 18:24,32.

Dene Ward

Crepe myrtles are the super-plant of Florida summers.  Despite the heat, they bloom and seem to thrive, while everything else wilts and often dies.  The garden is over by the first of July, and the flower bed is far past its prime, but those crepe myrtles just keep on going, looking better than ever.

We had been looking for crepe myrtles for awhile, the bush variety, not the trees.  Nathan and Brooke gave us some shoots that had come up around theirs and we gratefully planted them, and kept on looking for those bushes.  I am still not sure there is actually a difference in the plant, as one article I read said, or if it is all about how it is pruned, but after five or six years we still hadn’t found what we wanted, and that fall noticed the seed pods on our transplants.  We looked at each other and said, “Well, I’ve never heard of doing it before, but why not plant those seeds in some nursery pots?”

We did, and guess what?  In spite of the fact that we had never heard of doing it before, they grew!  This past spring we transplanted 8 one foot high crepe myrtles from that nursery pot experiment, all of which are blooming just fine in the Florida summer.     

Haven’t you heard it?  Someone comes up with an idea for spreading the gospel—one that is not beyond the bounds of God’s authority—but someone else pipes up, “I never heard of doing that before,” and expects that to be the end of the discussion.  In fact it often is, especially when prefaced by “Why, I’ve been a Christian for forty years...”  I wonder how many things would never have been done if everyone had that notion? 

            And the king made from the algum wood supports for the house of the LORD and for the king's house, lyres also and harps for the singers. There never was seen the like of them before in the land of Judah, 2 Chronicles 9:11

            The throne had six steps, and at the back of the throne was a calf's head, and on each side of the seat were armrests and two lions standing beside the armrests, while twelve lions stood there, one on each end of a step on the six steps. The like of it was never made in any kingdom, 1Kgs 10:20.

            And because of all your abominations I will do with you what I have never yet done, and the like of which I will never do again. Ezekiel 5:9.

             He has confirmed his words, which he spoke against us and against our rulers who ruled us, by bringing upon us a great calamity. For under the whole heaven there has not been done anything like what has been done against Jerusalem, Daniel 9:12.

 God didn’t seem to have any trouble accepting Solomon’s unique adornments for his throne and for the Temple.  He wasn’t above using punishments the like of which no one had ever seen before.  He certainly didn’t mind confounding the world by sacrificing His Son for our sins.  Aren’t you glad?

 We might be in bad company if “I’ve never heard of doing that before” becomes the source of authority for our actions. 

            As they were going away, behold, a demon-oppressed man who was mute was brought to him. And when the demon had been cast out, the mute man spoke. And the crowds marveled, saying, "Never was anything like this seen in Israel." But the Pharisees said, "He casts out demons by the prince of demons," Matthew 9:32-34.

Jesus didn’t fit their preconceived notions so they accused Him of consorting with the Devil.  I’ve heard Christians come close when someone suggested something new to reach the lost, especially if it cost any money. 

God tells us every word and action should be by His authority, not by whether we’ve heard of it or not.  I wouldn’t have any crepe myrtles if we had followed that dictum—and none of us would have a hope of salvation.

For from of old men have not heard, nor perceived by the ear, neither hath the eye seen a God besides thee, who works for him that waits for him, Isaiah 64:4.

Dene Ward

            
We live on five acres, but do not have the equipment to handle it sometimes.  Most everything we have accomplished has been with a shovel, a wheelbarrow, and Keith’s strong back.  We certainly don’t have a  tractor to keep it manicured properly.  
             
We decided a few years ago that we had rather see some splashes of color
here and there instead of waist high green grass and assorted head high weeds, so we planted several cans of mixed wildflower seeds around the perimeter of the mown section.  The first year they did not do much, but the second year we had a nice showing of coreopsis, gaillardia, and gloriosa daisies. They come up again every spring and have even spread out into the field in a few places.
             
Four summers ago I started cutting the deadheads and scattering them
around.  I thought it might be nice to have some up by the gate to greet our guests and scattered a few up there.  The next year I had two orange firewheels, the more colloquial name for gaillardia. The year after that we had about six. Last year I quit counting at 20. They were so thick it was hard to tell
exactly how many there were—we’re talking plants, not blooms, which were many times more than 20.  I can hardly wait to see what happens this year.
             
You’ve seen deadheads. They are gray or brown, shriveled and dried up.  You would never think they had once been beautiful blooms or were any longer valuable at all. But “deadhead” is a most inaccurate name for them. Inside those ugly old blooms lay the potential for thousands more beautiful blooms.
             
Have you looked in the mirror lately?  Some of you are a lot younger than I,
but no matter how young you are, you are not as young as you used to be.  Someday you will be my age, and most of you will get even older than that. 
It’s easy these days, especially facing a major disability, to think that I am no longer useful in the kingdom. It’s easy to say that since I might not be able to get out much any more, that I cannot serve.  When you grow older, you will face the same feelings. If you are older, you may be facing them already.
             
But that is not the case. Just like those dried up flowers, you have the potential to reach thousands through your example. Maybe the only example you are able to give any more is faithfulness—but it is a powerful one, and always needed. You are there when the doors of the meetinghouse are opened if you can drag yourself out at all. Sometimes you are there when you ought not to be. You have been married for 40, 50, 60 years to the same husband or wife, and the devotion between you is still obvious. You sit quietly and never cause any trouble.  In Bible classes you make comments that show you have lived by the scriptures.  You have children who are faithful to God, to their mates, to the body of Christ, and who are good citizens of this earthly country as well.  Do you think none of that counts?
             
If you are young, you need to start making good use of these resources.  Too many times the young are stuck in the self-centered ways of youth, forgetting that older Christians have lived a life every bit as interesting as theirs. Get them to talking sometime about their past. You just might be amazed at what they have been through and survived;  things you will probably never face in these prosperous times. And you will find one of the helps God always intended you to have—the wisdom of the aged. I have learned more valuable lessons from quiet people with halos of silver hair than from any pulpit preacher I have ever listened to—and I have heard some pretty good ones.
             
Setting an example is not something we have a choice about. As long as we are alive we do just that.  And it may be the most powerful thing any of us do.  You are never shriveled, dried up and useless as far as God is concerned. 
You are always sowing seeds. Be sure you sow the right ones.

The hoary head is a crown of glory; it shall be found in the way of righteousness, Prov 16:31
 
Dene Ward  

Keith loves tomatoes, which accounts for the fact that we have 95 tomato plants in our garden. In the summer, his supper is not complete without a heaping platter of sliced tomatoes, assorted colors and varieties—Better Boy, Celebrity, Big Beef, Golden Girl, Golden Jubilee, Cherokee Purple—all full sized, some even the one-slicers: large enough for one slice to cover a piece of bread.

So when the first tomato ripened this year and he let me have the whole thing to myself everyone was amazed. “What a generous husband!” some exclaimed. Then I told them the rest of the story. It was a Sungold Cherry tomato, more like a grape tomato, less than an inch in diameter.

“What a generous husband!” they again exclaimed, with a slightly different inflection on the “generous.”

It was a joke and everyone knew it, including Keith. How sad that so many do not see the joke when it’s the tomato they’ve been offered.

Do you want wealth and fame? Here, have the whole tomato.

Do you want career, status and power? Here, enjoy this, it’s all yours.

Do you want pleasure of every kind, fun, and excitement? Here, it’s ripe and ready and yours for the taking. Eat every bite.

Isn’t life wonderful? Isn’t the world an amazing place? Isn’t the ruler of this world the most generous being there is? Don’t bet on it.

Look at the size of that tomato again. Now look at what you lose when you accept it: family, love, redemption, hope, your soul. My, how generous that offer was—one measly little bite that is gone in an instant for the price of everything eternal.

That tomato may taste pretty good. It may be the best one that ever grew in any garden anywhere. But I’d rather take my Father’s offer—He has a whole garden to give me.

And he showed me a river of water of life, bright as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb, in the midst of the street thereof. And on this side of the river and on that was the tree of life, bearing twelve manner of fruits, yielding its fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. And there shall be no curse any more: and the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be therein: and his servants shall serve him; and they shall see his face; and his name shall be on their foreheads. And there shall be night no more; and they need no light of lamp, neither light of sun; for the Lord God shall give them light: and they shall reign for ever and ever, Revelation 22:1-5.

For what shall a man be profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and forfeit his life? or what shall a man give in exchange for his life? Matthew 16:26.

Dene Ward

 While I have kept three or four potted herbs on my steps for several years, it has only been a short while that I have grown an herb garden—two kinds of parsley, three kinds of basil, plus thyme, oregano, marjoram, dill, sage, cilantro, rosemary, fennel, mint, and chives.

I’m still learning some things the hard way. Dill must be planted in late fall because it cannot tolerate the heat of a Florida summer. Basil will stop growing when the weather cools, whether you protect it from the frost or not. Oregano is a ground runner and needs a lot of room. You must snip your chives from the bottom—not just trim off the tops—if you expect them to replenish. One recipe for pesto will decimate a basil plant for at least two weeks. Always give mint its own separate bed, or better still, pot, because it will take over the joint if you don’t.

And, Keith hates cilantro. Although I am not exactly sure how he knows this, he says it tastes “like stinkbugs.” We discovered this when I sprinkled chopped fresh cilantro over a turkey tortilla casserole. Now cilantro does have a distinctive flavor. While it bears a close physical resemblance to Italian flat-leaf parsley, the strongest flavored parsley, its flavor is probably ten times stronger than that herb. There IS such a thing as too much cilantro. On the other hand, a lot of people like it in moderation, including me. I guess there is no accounting for tastes.

 And that is why some people reject Jesus. To some people life tastes sweeter when we do things His way. The difficult times become easier to bear, and the good times more than we dared hope for. But other people see in Him a restrictive cage denying them all the pleasures of life. Their focus on the here and now keeps them from seeing the victory of Eternity, but even worse, they are blinded by Satan to the true joys a child of God can have in this life as well. …And exercise yourself unto godliness; for bodily exercise is profitable for a little, but godliness is profitable for all things, having the promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come. 1 Tim 4:7,8. We can have joy, peace, hope, love, and fellowship with both God and the best people on earth, while on this earth.

 But they just can’t see it. I guess to them, godliness tastes like stinkbugs. Truly, there is just no accounting for tastes.

For we are a sweet smell of Christ unto God, in them that are saved, and in them that perish; to the one a smell from death unto death, and to the other a smell from life unto life…2 Cor 2:15,16

Dene Ward

I don’t really know that much about plants.  I have killed my fair share of them, especially houseplants, but I salve my ego with the notion that it might be because the house is so dark.  In Florida, living under huge live oaks is good for the electric bill, not so good for anything inside that needs a sunny window.

I have learned the hard way what to do and what not to do.  Living in zone 9 means you make more mistakes than most about what will grow and what won’t.  It never dawned on me that there was such a thing as too warm a climate until the first time I planted tulip bulbs.  All those lovely spring flowers will never make it here without a lot of extra work, like digging them up and putting them in the freezer for awhile, and even then you can’t count on it.

We lived in South Carolina for three years and I could actually grow irises.  The first time I ordered them, I was stunned when they arrived—a bare hunk of root in a plastic bag.  Surely it was dead by now, I thought.  That was how I learned about rhizomes. 

Rhizomes are not ordinary roots, long and hairlike, growing out of the bottom of a stem.  They aren’t bulbs either.  They are long pieces of thick rootstock, sometimes called underground stems, which run horizontally under the plant, sending out numerous roots and even leaf buds from its upper surface.  That horizontal orientation also aids in propagation, as the roots spread underground and form more rhizomes from which more plants grow the next season.

Now think about that as you read this passage:  Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving, Colossians 2:6-7.  That word “rooted” is the Greek word rhizoomai.  I am not a Greek scholar but it doesn’t take one to see the connection between that word and “rhizome.”  I am told that its figurative meaning is “to become stable.”

It isn’t just that we are rooted downward in the faith with tiny hairlike roots.  Our faith is based in something that is strong, that can even withstand the rigors of being out of its milieu for awhile (like rootstock shipped in a plastic bag), that spreads out to others on a regular basis, and eventually grows into a whole support system.  Try to pull up an ordinary plant and you can usually do so without too much trouble.  Try to pull up a rhizome-based plant and you have to work at it awhile, in fact you may uproot half your yard trying to do so and still never get it all.

That sort of root takes awhile to develop.  It doesn’t happen overnight or without effort, and it won’t happen that way with you either.  You must work at it, but once you have, you will be far stronger than you ever imagined. 

You have to be connected to your brethren too, you can’t just “be a Christian,” one completely divorced from the Lord’s family, and think you will ever have that same sort of strength.  Rhizomes reach out, and so must we.  The only other choice is a fragile little root system that will die if it is uprooted for very long at all.

Build up…your most holy faith, Jude says, v 20, but build it down as well, rooting yourself with a strong rootstock that will not waver, despite the trials of life and the persecutions of the enemy.  Develop a rhizome and, in the words of Peter who told us how to supplement our faith, “you shall never fall” (2 Pet 1:5-10).

 And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him, if indeed you continue in the faith, grounded and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed in all creation under heaven…Colossians 1:21-23.

Dene Ward

We first encountered a coreopsis when we planted several packets of wildflowers and a few sprang up along the edge of our mown field.   These two foot high plants held bright yellow ray flowers on bare stalks above lance shaped leaves.  “Tickseed” I found as its colloquial name because its hard flat black fruit resembles a tick.

Although they still spring up here and there nearly ten years after that original planting, they are sparse and tend to congregate on the southern edge of the field, shining like the occasional light bulb in a sea of green grass and weeds.  They had just started blooming in early May when I spent my entire morning walk with Chloe talking to God about a particularly thorny issue.  I had just asked for what seemed impossible. 

It has taken me years to reach this point.  The church of my day spent nearly its entire existence fighting false doctrines, certainly a noble cause.  False teaching can steal souls as easily as the temptations of an increasingly carnal culture.  But we often forgot to balance those teachings with the truth, jumping far beyond it to a place of certain safety, where we were so far from the ravenous wolf in sheep’s clothing that we fell into the pit of despair instead.  Yes, miracles have ceased, but that doesn’t mean that God no longer works in the world or that my prayers will not be answered.  Yes, the Holy Spirit operates through the Word He inspired, but that doesn’t meant that I will not receive help from an avenue He has set in motion.  Providence, we call all of those things—normal natural occurrences that seem to come at the most opportune times.

And so I was walking along the path, pulling my way with those now ubiquitous trekking poles of mine, along the back fence, probably fifty feet from the nearest--and loneliest--coreopsis, turning on its southwest side by a stretch where we had sown none of them, and none had ever before appeared.  When things do spread, they always go north-northwest, certainly never south, especially in the summer.  Yet suddenly, right there before me stood a bright yellow beacon where it should not have been.  It was so unexpected I came to a complete halt and called Chloe over, as if she too should have cared.  Coming as it did so surprisingly, just after that impossible request, I was instantly reminded that God can do the impossible, and my spirits soared.

No, I am not a mystic, or a believer in such things.  But I am reminded of a sermon Jesus preached once, where it seems he glanced up and surely must have seen a flock of birds on the wing, so he said, “Behold the birds of the heavens,” and a few minutes later when he surely must have seen a nearby patch of flowers and said, “Consider the lilies of the field.”  Jesus had no problem at all using the natural world to teach His lessons.  Why can’t I use the natural world to remind me of lessons I need at a particular time?

I have a friend who loves butterflies.  As she endures cancer treatment she often says, “God sent me a butterfly today.”  She had looked outside and seen one flitting around in her flowerbeds.  That butterfly reminded her that God cares for her, just as Jesus reminds us, Look at the birds of the heavens, that they sow not, neither do they reap nor gather into barns, and your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are not you of much more value than they? Matt 6:26. 

God has created an amazing natural world to teach us if we will but pay attention.  Solomon used that natural world in the wisdom God gave him.  And he spoke three thousand proverbs; and his songs were a thousand and five. And he spoke of trees, from the cedar that is in Lebanon even unto the hyssop that springs out of the wall; he spoke also of beasts, and of birds, and of creeping things, and of fishes. 1 Kings 4:32-33.  If we deny this creation of God its ability to edify and encourage, how are we any different from the pagan who denies that it proves God’s very existence in the first place?

Pay attention to what lies outside your door today, the birds and lilies, the butterflies and the out of place, bright yellow coreopsis.  As it turns out, God did answer my impossible prayer that day, in almost exactly the way I had asked.  Who am I to try to explain that away?

Jesus looked at them and said, "With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God," Mark 10:27

Dene Ward

 

A few years ago Keith dug up a plant he found out in the field far from the house, surrounded by stinging nettles and poison ivy.  He had thought it looked like something besides another weed.  When I rubbed the leaves between my fingers and sniffed, I discovered it was spearmint.  So I potted it and put it next to my herb bed, where it comes in handy every so often, and grows so bountifully I have to give it a haircut once in awhile.

Imagine finding a useful herb in the middle of a patch of useless, annoying, and even dangerous weeds.  I thought of that mint plant a few days ago when we studied Rahab in one of my classes.  I have written about her before, and you can read that article in the Bible people category to your right, “The Scarlet Woman and Her Scarlet Cord,” but something new struck my mind in this latest discussion. 

God told Abraham his descendants would not receive their land inheritance for another 400 years because “the iniquity of the Amorite is not yet full,” Gen 15:13-16.  The people of Canaan, the Promised Land, were not yet so wicked that God was ready to destroy them, but the time was coming. 

If there is a Bible definition for “total depravity” perhaps that is it:  “when their iniquity is full.”  That had happened before in the book of Genesis—to Sodom in Genesis 19, and to the whole world in Genesis 6 when God saw that “every intention of the thoughts of [man’s] heart was only evil continually” (v 5), another fine definition for total depravity.

Both times God brought about a complete destruction—except for a tiny remnant that we can count on our fingers in each instance. That means that when God finally brought the Israelites into their land, the Canaanites’ iniquity was “full” and those people must have been every bit as wicked as the people of Sodom and the world in general in Noah’s day. 

Yet right in the middle of Jericho, the first city to be conquered, a harlot believed in Jehovah God.  A harlot.  Would you have bothered speaking to her if she were your neighbor, much less invited her to a Bible study?  But she outshone even the people of God in a way that made God take notice of her.

Thirty-eight years before, when those first 12 spies came back from their scouting expedition in Numbers 13, ten of them, the vast majority, gave a fearful report.  Look at the words they used:  “we are not able;” “they are stronger than us.”  Look at the words Rahab used when she spoke to the two later spies:  “I know the Lord has given you the land;” “our hearts melted and there was no spirit left in any man…because the Lord your God he is God.”  The earlier Israelites raised “a loud cry,” “wept all night,” and “grumbled against Moses and Aaron” (Num 14:1-4).  Rahab sent the spies safely on their way and hung a scarlet cord in her window, patiently waiting for the deliverance promised by two men she had never seen before in her life, but whose God she had grown to believe in with all her heart.  The difference is startling.  If you didn’t know anything but their words and actions, which would you think were children of God?

And a woman like this lived in a place determined for destruction because its iniquity was “full,” plying a trade we despise, living a life of moral degradation as a matter of course.

Who lives in your neighborhood?  What kind of lives do they lead?  Rahab had heard about the God of Israel for forty years (Josh 2:10), assuming she was that old—if not, then all her life.  Have your neighbors heard about your God?  Have they seen Him in your actions, in your interactions, and in your absolute assurance that He is and that He cares for you, even when life deals you a blow?

Do your words sound like the faithless Israelites’ or like the faithful prostitute’s?  Would God transplant you out of the weeds into the herb garden, or dig you up and throw you out among the thorns and nettles where a useless plant belongs?

Don’t count on the fact that you aren’t a harlot.

Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.  I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” Luke 18:10-14.

Dene Ward