August in Florida—the grapes are coming in.  Every evening after dinner, Keith and I sit in the shade of the grape arbor in the green swing Lucas made in high school shop class, munching grapes.  In Florida grapes are large, thick skinned muscadines and scuppernongs, bronze or a purple so dark it looks almost black.  We spit out the more bitter skins, and Chloe and Magdi wander around under our feet scarfing them up like little furry scavengers.  When we are too slow to suit them, Chloe wanders back to the vine and picks her own.

            Sometimes I think grapes must be God’s favorite fruit.  The symbolism in the scriptures begins in Genesis where both Judah and Joseph are described as grapevines, and travels on throughout the scriptures.  The promise of the Messiah is pictured as a time when shall sit every man under his vine…and none shall make them afraid, Micah 4:4.  Both Old Testament Israel and New Testament spiritual Israel, the church, are called vineyards (Isa 5:1-7; Mt 20:1-16).  Jesus says, I am the vine in John 15, and in the memorial feast we partake of every first day of the week, we drink the fruit of the vine, grape juice, which symbolizes his shedding of blood—not that he simply cut himself and bled one day, but that he died for our sins.

            But the symbolism is not always pleasant.  In a prophecy about Judah’s coming destruction the prophet Zephaniah says, And their wealth shall become a spoil, and their houses a desolation; yes, they shall build houses, but shall not inhabit them; and they shall plant vineyards, but shall not drink the wine thereof, 1:13.

            One of the most terrifying prophecies in the Old Testament also contains the symbolism of grapes and grape juice.
           Who is this that comes from Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah? He who is glorious in his apparel, marching in the greatness of his strength?  
            I who speak in righteousness, mighty to save.
            Why are you red in your apparel, and your garments like him that treads in the wine vat? 
            I have trodden the winepress alone; and of the peoples there was no man with me: yes, I trod them in my anger, and trampled them in my wrath; and their lifeblood is sprinkled upon my garments, and I have stained all my raiment   For the day of vengeance was in my heart.. . And I trod down the people in my anger, and made them drunk in my wrath, and I poured out their lifeblood on the earth.   Isa 63:1-4,6.
 
           Every evening I once again have the opportunity to reflect on how I want the symbolism of the grapes to manifest itself in my life.  Do I want it to be my blood sprinkling the robe of an angry God, who tramples the wicked like grapes in a winepress, or will I accept the blood of the spotless Lamb of God, who died for me, so I can sit under my vine and not be afraid? 

            Don’t ever forget that the choice is ours to make.
 
I am the vine; you are the branches.  He who abides in me, and I in him, the same bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.  If a man does not abide in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered, and they gather them and cast them into the fire, and they are burned.  If you abide in me and my words abide in you, ask whatever you will, and it will be done unto you.  Herein is the Father glorified:  that you bear much fruit; and so shall you be my disciples, John 15:5-8.  
 
Dene Ward

We made a mistake this summer.  We planted climbing roses at either end of a fifteen foot long trellis, and then planted morning glories along it as well.  To fill up the blank spot in the middle, we told ourselves.  But as the summer progressed those morning glory vines wound their way not only up the trellis but across to the new rose canes and completely covered them.  They shaded the leaves from the already filtered sun in that area of the yard and even hid the few blooms the roses managed to put out.

              Enough, we decided, and Keith clipped the smothering vines one morning.  They were wound so tightly, I had to wait for them to begin to wilt before I could remove them without damaging the rose vines.  Do you know what happened?  For five days those clipped and wilted vines put on new blooms and not just a few.

              Finally on the fifth day, I grabbed some heavy duty scissors and began cutting and carefully unwinding them.  After a half hour of cautious work and quite a few bloody thorn-pricks, nearly all the morning glories were lying in a pile along the bottom of the trellis and I discovered more rose vines than I ever imagined trailing along nearly the entire fifteen feet of trellis.  I gathered the morning glories in an armful and tossed them out in the brushy field.

              The next morning we came out to look at the roses.  New red leaves grew on nearly every end, with half a dozen new buds.  Finally we can breathe, they seemed to be screaming at us.  Then we walked over to the field and out there in the thick grass lay those dead morning glory vines—with brand new purple, blue, pink, and magenta blooms on them!  The next morning we saw more new morning glory blooms.  It had been a week since they were cut and they had lain in the sub-tropical summer sun without even any rain. Yet there they were, putting on new blooms still, even though their vines were wilted and brown. 

              By faith Abel offered unto God a more excellent sacrifice than Cain, through which he had witness borne to him that he was righteous, God bearing witness in respect of his gifts: and through it he being dead yet speaks, Heb 11:4.

              How many hundreds of names do we know from the pages of Scripture?  Though they are long dead, their examples still speak to us and help us along our path. 

              Therefore let us also, seeing we are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily besets us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Heb 12:1.

              That great cloud of witnesses continues to speak as we read about their lives, as we study them in Bible classes and hear them spoken of in sermons.  We give our children great Bible heroes to pattern their lives after, and well we should.  But what is true of them is true of us as well.

              After we are gone, our deeds will continue to speak, maybe not to as many as those in the pages of Scripture, but to everyone who knew us.  What will they see in the field after we are gone?  Will we leave nothing but a wilted vine, or will colorful blooms still dot the ground?  Will the deeds we do continue to inspire others, or will our useless lives stand as an example not to follow?  Will people talk about us with words of blessing or will others need to come along and undo the damage we left behind?

              Think about my morning glories today.  Someday your stem will be snipped, too.  What will be left behind for others to see?
 
Show yourself in all respects to be a model of good works, and in your teaching show integrity, dignity, and sound speech that cannot be condemned, so that an opponent may be put to shame, having nothing evil to say about us, Titus 2:7,8.
 
Dene Ward

We have always had a large garden, mainly to keep the grocery bill affordable.  An 80 by 80 foot plot has been planted in three different places through the years as we came to know our land and which areas of it were best suited for what.
 
             But the past three or four years, we have downsized.  Half the original garden, now 40 by 80, is plenty of room for the little the two of us need, and we still have extra to give away on Sunday mornings.  But since the other half was already tilled, it seemed a shame to waste it.  So that first year Keith planted an entire pound of wildflower seeds in it.  If that does not impress you, consider that those seed packets you buy in the store containing 25 seeds are less than even a tenth of an ounce.  In fact, most of the weight, should you put them on a scale small enough to weigh ounces, is the paper packet itself.  So a pound of flower seeds is an enormous amount.

              As the spring and summer passed by, nothing came up.  What a disappointment.  Planting those seeds was a lot of work—tilling, sowing, rolling with a fifty gallon barrel, hauling hoses and setting up sprinklers to water it.  Too much work, he decided, to try it again. 

              Then one spring morning during the second year, he looked out on that side of the old garden space and saw what he had expected to see the year before.  Bright yellow fleabane in huge clumps, fire engine red, deep pink, and fuchsia phlox, orange gaillardia, yellow and maroon tickseed, and tall stems of black-eyed Susans and cone flowers.  It has been a delight all year long.  We just had to wait for it longer than expected.

              I planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase. (1Cor 3:6)

              Planting for the Lord is hard work.  It may be natural to want to see results immediately.  It may be understandable to become discouraged when we do not.  Stop whittling on God's end of the stick.  Our job is to plant.  Period.  God will give the increase in His own good time.

              So keep sowing that seed.  You sow it with your words, with your offers to hold a Bible study, with the example you set when life goes awry as it sooner or later will for everyone.  You sow it on purpose and you sow accidentally when you do not realize someone else is watching and listening.  You sow it formally with written invitations and flyers and you sow when you just happen to think to invite out of the clear blue.  One of these days you might see a few results.  But then again, you may never see one.  That does not mean they won't happen in a heart years removed from the time you sowed, long after you are gone.

              And when those seeds bloom, they will be some of the most beautiful blooms on the face of the earth—a heart where the gospel has taken root and formed a servant of the Lord.  Sow something today, on purpose, and think about my wildflowers as you do.  God will give that increase.  We must learn to stop counting and see it by faith.
 
For as the rain comes down and the snow from heaven, and returns not there, but waters the earth, and makes it bring forth and bud, and gives seed to the sower and bread to the eater; so shall my word be that goes forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it. (Isa 55:10-11)
 
Dene Ward

Keith had major surgery a couple of springs ago and because of his profound deafness I was with him in the hospital as caregiver 24/7.  We don’t do real sign language, but it is easier for me to communicate with him after 45 years of gradually adapting to his increasing disability.  People who are not used to it simply do not know how, and reading lips is not the easy fix to the problem that most think.
              Unfortunately, this hospital stay coincided with the garden harvest.  The beans, squash, and cucumbers had already begun coming in.  While we were away that week, those vegetables continued to grow.  When we got home, the beans were a lost cause--thick, tough, stringy and totally inedible.  The squash looked like a brass band had marched through, discarding their bright yellow tubas beneath the large green leaves, and the cucumbers as if a blimp had flown over in labor and dropped a litter.  If we expected the plants to continue to produce, I had to pull those huge gourds.  That first morning home I picked and dumped 8 buckets full.
              Gardens are taskmasters.  They don’t stop when it doesn’t suit your schedule.  They don’t wait till you have a free moment.  You must reap the harvest when it is ready or you lose it.  Every morning in late May and early June I go out to see what the day holds for me.  Will I be putting up beans or corn or tomatoes?  Will we have okra for supper or do I need to pickle it?  Are the jalapenos ready for this year’s salsa?  Are the bell peppers big enough to stuff or do I need to chop some for the freezer?  Do I need to make pesto before the basil completely seeds out? 
              And then you look for other problems.  Has blight struck the tomatoes?  Do the vining plants have a fungus?  Have the monarch butterflies laid their progeny on the parsley plants?  Have the cutworms attacked the peppers?  Has the ground developed a bacteria that is killing off half the garden almost overnight?  Do things just need watering?
              Childrearing can be the same way.  Children don’t stop growing until it suits your schedule. They don’t wait till you have a free moment.  You must reap the harvest when it is ready or you lose it.
              God expects you to carefully watch those small plants.  He expects you to check for problems before they kill the plants, and nip them in the bud.  It is perfectly normal for a toddler to be self-centered, but somewhere along the way you must teach him consideration for others.  Are you watching for ways to overcome his innate selfishness and teach him to share? Do you have a plan to teach him generosity?  It won’t happen by itself--you have to do it.
              Are you examining your children every day for those little diseases—stubbornness, a hot temper, whining, disrespect, or the other side of the “leaf”—inordinate shyness, self-deprecation, pessimism.  God expects you to look for problems from the beginning and try to fix them so your child will grow into a happy, well-adjusted adult, able to serve Him without the baggage of character flaws that should have been caught when he was very small.  Parents who ignore these things, thinking they will somehow go away when he grows up, are failing in their duties as gardeners of God’s young souls.  Those things will not disappear on their own any more than nematodes and mole crickets will.
              He also expects you to make clear-eyed judgments.  He may be your precious little cutie-pie, but you need to take off your tinted glasses and take a good look at him.  If you ignore his problems because you are too smitten to see them, you do not love your child as much as you claim.  Whoever spares the rod, hates his son, but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him, Prov 13:24.  When I ignore the blight in my garden, it’s because saving the garden isn’t important to me.
              Have you and your spouse ever just sat and watched your children play?  Have you ever given any thought at all to the things you might need to correct in them?  If your schedule is too busy for that, then you are too busy.  Period.  Your children will keep right on growing, and without your attentive care they may rot on the vine. 
              You are a steward of God’s garden.  The most important thing you can do today is take care of it.
 
Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within your house; your children will be like olive shoots around your table… Psalms 128:3.
 
Dene Ward

My herb garden looks the best it has in years.  The perennials—tarragon, Italian oregano, parsley, and chives—have come up beautifully and were already well beyond the new plants I put in—the Greek oregano, sage, creeping thyme, lemon thyme, and a couple of new rosemary plants to replace my old one that looks like a gnarled old man.  I had a host of shades of green, and a variety of leaf styles in the rich, black loam Keith had created for me, not to mention a heady aroma when a breeze passed through.  But I had one empty spot. 
              I already had two Genovese basils in separate pots because they catch disease and fungus easily from other plants.  I had my spearmint plant in its own pot as well, because it will simply take over if you don't keep it corralled.  I seldom use any other herbs than those I already have, so I decided to plant some lavender.  Maybe I could make some sachets, I thought, thinking ahead to gift-giving time.  So I bought one and planted it.
              Two weeks later I came outside to a wilted lavender plant.  Everything else looked fine, putting on new thick growth and even threatening to bloom.  Keith kept the bed well-watered and fertilized, but neither overwatered nor over-fertilized.  What was the problem?  We did some research and found out.  Lavender does not like to be watered and fertilized and it despises rich soil.  It does best when it is left alone in poor dirt.  Imagine that!  We removed it from the herb bed and put it in a pot of dry dirt from the field, but it was too late.  It died within the week.  And that's when I thought of these verses:

              And as they were speaking to the people, the priests and the captain of the temple and the Sadducees came upon them, greatly annoyed because they were teaching the people and proclaiming in Jesus the resurrection from the dead. And they arrested them and put them in custody until the next day, for it was already evening. But many of those who had heard the word believed, and the number of the men came to about five thousand. (Acts 4:1-4)
 
                When Ananias heard these words, he fell down and breathed his last. And great fear came upon all who heard of it…Immediately she fell down at his feet and breathed her last. When the young men came in they found her dead, and they carried her out and buried her beside her husband…And more than ever believers were added to the Lord, multitudes of both men and women, (Acts 5:5, 10, 14)

              It seems like the early church was a lot like English lavender.  Under the worst conditions of persecution and poverty, and after a strong discipline from God, they flourished.  A lot of people have expressed their ideas about why this happened, but it seems simple to me.  Who would join a group they knew could get them beaten, imprisoned, or even killed, and would certainly cause them suffering of some kind in this world except those who were truly converted and devoted to the cause?  Those are the ones who stick and who spread the Word.
              I have heard it said by some that should we once again be persecuted as our ancient brethren were, that the rolls of the church would not decrease at all—we would simply know who really was a Christian and who was a hypocrite.  When the things we complain about have more to do with personal comfort, perhaps it is time to ask ourselves whether we are English lavender Christians or the other type, the fragile, high maintenance plants who need careful tending in order to bear the Lord anything remotely useful at all.
 
And when they had called in the apostles, they beat them and charged them not to speak in the name of Jesus, and let them go. Then they left the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the name. And every day, in the temple and from house to house, they did not cease teaching and preaching that the Christ is Jesus. (Acts 5:40-42)
 
Dene Ward

I went out to water my flowers early one morning, grabbed up the two gallon watering can and headed for the spigot.  The temperature had already risen to the upper 70s, and the humidity had beaten that number by at least twenty.  It dripped off the live oaks, bonking on the metal carport roof as loud as pebbles would have, but I knew that soon the plants would fold their leaves against the heat in a bid to keep as much moisture in them as possible.  A morning drink was a necessity for them to survive the coming afternoon.
 
             I picked up the filled can and began the long trudge to the flower bed.  What was that?  Water was running down the leg that bumped the can as I walked, so I lifted the can and examined it.  A steady stream of water poured out a tiny hole not quite halfway up its side.

              After a moment’s thought, I picked up the pace and made it to the bed in time to pour most of the water on the flowers.  Ordinarily after watering, I keep a full can next to the bed to fill the small bird bath next to it as needed, but that can would no longer hold even half its normal capacity.  So after the watering, I returned to the well tank and filled it only halfway and sat it by the bath.  I would have to fill it twice as often now, but at least I could get a most of a gallon out of it.  Better than nothing.

               We are a lot like that watering can.  We should be filled to the capacity that God intended, but too often we don’t hold even half of it.  Paul tells us we each receive a different gift according to the grace of God, Rom 12:6; Peter tells us to use that gift as a good steward of God’s grace, 1 Pet 4:10.  Holes in the can mean we are not using those gifts as God designed, squandering His grace in the process. 

              Sometimes we deny the grace.  “I can’t do that,” we say, when God has clearly put an opportunity in front of us.  Have you ever given someone a gift and had them tell you that you didn’t?  Of course not.  Everyone knows that the giver knows what he gave, yet here we are being so ridiculous as to tell God He most certainly did not give us any gifts.  God does not put opportunities in front of us that He has not given us the ability to handle.  More than anyone else—even more that we ourselves—He knows what we can and cannot do.  Denying the His grace is simply disobedience.

              Sometimes we cheat the grace.  “I’m too busy,” we tell people when something comes up.  Never mind that the opportunity is squarely within my wheelhouse—if I don’t want to do it, being busy is the excuse of the day.  In fact, sometimes we make ourselves busy with things we prefer in order to avoid more difficult spiritual obligations.  It’s easier to work late one night than go visit a weak brother.  It’s more fun to work out with a peer (“keeping my temple healthy”) than learn how to study with an older Christian who wants to share his hard-earned knowledge.  Shopping must be done, but it is certainly less trouble—and a lot quicker--to go shopping alone than to take an older person who is no longer able to get out on her own.  And thus our busy-ness has kept us from filling ourselves to capacity.

              Sometimes we do our best to spoil the grace by poking the hole in ourselves.  God has a purpose for each one of us.  I can sabotage those plans by my own selfish choices in life.  Worldliness and materialism can diminish my capacity for the spiritual.  Bad habits can ruin a reputation and make me less effective.  Bad decisions can make me unfit for God’s original plan for me.  Even if I turn myself around and repent, I may never again have the same impact I would have if I had made better choices earlier in life.  I may very well have drilled a hole in the can so that it will only hold half or less what God intended it to hold.

              Take a good look at your watering can this morning.  God knows better than you how much it can hold.  Don’t deny the grace; don’t squander the opportunities.  Don’t drill a hole where one doesn’t belong.  Capacity is His business, not yours, and what He wants is an overflowing can.
 
Now in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver but also of wood and clay, some for honorable use, some for dishonorable. Therefore, if anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonorable, he will be a vessel for honorable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master of the house, ready for every good work, 2 Timothy 2:20-21.
 
Dene Ward

My roses are gorgeous.  Besides the Knock-out bush rose, which will truly knock you out several times a year with thirty or forty pink blooms on a three foot high bush, I have three climbers on a wire trellis.  One is that old red standby, Climbing Blaze.  One is its cousin, the red-orange Blaze of Glory, and the third is a yellow variety I have long since forgotten the name of, with the largest blooms of any climber I have ever seen.  Then for something extra, we refused to prune off the limbs that came from the rootstock and now that yellow one also carries with it limb after limb of maroon blooms along the entire length of each branch.  One morning we counted over seventy-five blooms on those three plants.

              I keep the deadheads trimmed to promote blooming, but one week I was a little late getting to that chore and found half a dozen "rose hips," the fruit of a rose that grows where the pollinated flower bloomed, a swelling that gradually turns color as it ripens, usually red or orange, but sometimes purple or even black.  Although you have to be careful with preparation, rose hips can be used for tea, jelly, syrups, seasoning, and even fruit leather.  Occasionally, I have thought about harvesting some and trying the jelly, but here's the deal:  if you let the hips form, you will have fewer blooms.  Right now, I don't need any sustenance from rose hips.  What I want are the beautiful blooms.

              Ah, but while that may be fine for rose hips, it certainly isn't fine for my life as a Christian.  God wants something useful out of me.   He doesn't care how I look on the outside, but only how I act and the state of my heart on the inside.  If all I am is a pretty blossom on the outside, but I am bearing no fruit, whether by good deeds or spiritual growth, I am fit for nothing but to be "cast into the fire and burned" (John 15:6).

              We can take it a step further to whole churches.  The building may be an architectural marvel, as many ancient churches are, but what is going on inside?  Do they produce Christians?  If the pure gospel doesn't echo down their halls, and all they evoke is appreciation of their apses, naves, stained glass, painted ceilings, and sculpted icons, just exactly how is it that God is glorified?  Even so let your light shine before men; that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven. (Matt 5:16)

              Most of the time we understand that the fruit is the important thing.  Here in Florida the orange blossom is the state flower and its smell, as you drive the rolling hills of Central Florida orange groves, nearly overpowering.  In my garden, those pale yellow, maroon-centered okra blooms are truly gorgeous.  But those things and others are grown for their fruit, not their blooms.  Don't let your beautiful rose bushes lead you astray on that.
 
And even now the axe lies at the root of the trees: every tree therefore that brings not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire. (Matt 3:10)

Dene Ward

This year we picked our first garden produce in early April.  Finding that first inch long green bean hiding among the thick spade-shaped foliage gives you a thrill, but seeing the first shiny green silks spewing out of the corn shucks and the tassels creeping out of the top positively makes your mouth water.  When it has been nearly a year since sinking your teeth into a row of crisp, juicy, buttered and salted kernels, the anticipation is intense.
 
             If you are not a gardener you might not truly appreciate the sacrifice of the firstfruits under the Old Law.  Every gardener knows that the first picking is the best.  As time passes, the corn and beans toughen.  The tomatoes and peppers become smaller and smaller and rot more quickly from the many blemishes.  The cucumbers turn yellow and overblown before they reach their full length.  Yet we have the frozen food section at the grocery store and a produce section that brings food from places where the firstfruits are just appearing.  Many of us have never seen anything but the firstfruits.

              I’ve often heard that certain frozen and canned vegetables are more reliably good than the fresh.  They are picked at their peak and processed within hours.  We can have the best any time of the year, and we take it for granted.  The devout Israelite never had that opportunity.  It was ingrained in
 him from birth:  the best belongs to the Lord.
 
             All the best of the oil, and all the best of the vintage, and of the grain, the first-fruits of them which they give unto Jehovah...The first-ripe fruits of all that is in their land, which they bring unto Jehovah… (Numbers 18:12-13)
 
             As a dedicated Hebrew watched his crops grow, his cattle bear, his vines hang lower and lower with the heaviness of ripening fruit, he knew that the best would not be for him, but an offering to the Lord.

              And this shall be the priests' due from the people, from them that offer a sacrifice, whether it be ox or sheep, that they shall give unto the priest the shoulder, and the two cheeks, and the maw. The first-fruits of your grain, of your new wine, and of your oil, and the first of the fleece of your sheep, shall you give him. For Jehovah your God has chosen him out of all your tribes, to stand to minister in the name of Jehovah, him and his sons forever. Deuteronomy 18:3-5.

              The pious Israelite knew that the best of the fruits of his labor would be eaten not by his family, but by Jehovah’s priests, his representatives on earth. 

              The first of the first-fruits of your ground you shall bring into the house of Jehovah your God. Exodus 23:19.

              Not just the firstfruits, but the first of the firstfruits—the best of the best—was required in his service to God.

              Most of us have learned that our weekly contribution of money must be “purposed” (2 Cor 9:7).  But we haven’t learned to apply that axiom to every aspect of our lives.  Too often God gets nothing but our leftover time, our leftover energy, our leftover effort.  I’ve heard Christians talk about exercising when their bodies are at their peak, about avoiding certain times of the day for important work, about matching body rhythms to tasks.  Do we ever talk like that our about service to God?  Do we offer service that is well planned, organized for maximum efficiency, and timed for greatest effect?  Yes, we often talk about caring for our temples (bodies) so we can use them for God, but then we use all that energy for everything else instead and still God gets the leftovers.

              The principle of the firstfruits was so important that Hezekiah included it in his great restoration (2 Chron 31:5).  It was deemed so necessary to a true attitude of worship that Nehemiah charged the returning exiles to keep those ordinances in particular (Neh 10:35-39).

              We sing a hymn:  “Give of Your Best to the Master.”  That principle has not changed.  In fact, we are the firstfruits (James 1:18), “brought forth by the word of truth.”  As such, God expects us to give ourselves.  If we do, the rest will follow.  If it hasn’t, maybe we need to take a closer look at our “devotion.”
 
…but they first gave themselves to God…2 Cor 8:5.                                    
 
Dene Ward                                                           

My largest flower bed, a couple of hundred square feet, is about 75% volunteers.  Every year I plant a couple of new things, but by and large the plot reseeds itself with black-eyed Susans, zinnias, marigolds, and Mexican petunias.  Instead of planned formality it becomes a riot of color—orange, red, rust, pink, burgundy, purple, white, and tons of yellow.  About the first of June it is at its best, and has even been featured in the photos of friends and family.

              The black-eyed Susans have a way of coming up just about anywhere—in the field, in the yard, up by the gate, around the bird feeders.  I never know where one will shoot up during any given spring. A shallow ditch runs along the west side of my large riotous flower bed.  This year that ditch was full of black-eyed Susans—even more than in the bed.

              As the spring progressed, that ditch also became full of weeds and grass.  I spent over an hour one morning cleaning it out.  Along with it went some of those pretty, brown-centered, yellow flowers.  I thought about it long and hard, but I knew this:  those weeds would just get more and more entrenched and eventually choke out the flowers anyway.  And even if they didn’t, the flowers would just call attention to the tall grass around them, and all anyone would think would be, “Ugh.”  So I transplanted what I could back into the bed, hoping they would survive the rough treatment of having grass roots pulled out from among their own, and then just chopped out the rest along with all the weeds.  It’s not like I didn’t have a plethora of them anyway.  They are all over the property.

              Which brings me to this:  what we often think of as beauty can be completely overwhelmed by ugliness.  Why can’t our young men see that a beautiful young girl is anything but beautiful when she acts like a trollop and dresses like a harlot?  Why can’t a young woman see that a handsome young man spoils those good looks with the filthy words that come out of his mouth and the intemperate behavior of a drunk, or a lecher, or anything else he allows to control his life?  Why don’t they understand that if they are only attracted by outward beauty, their values are as shallow as a drop of water on a hot griddle, and just as likely to evaporate?  Maybe because we haven’t taught them any better.

              Many years ago I stood in the receiving line at a wedding and heard a few feet away a woman who claimed to be a Christian saying, “He’s such a good looking young man.  It’s a shame he couldn’t find someone prettier.”  Never mind the young bride in question had a beautiful and loving character, she wasn’t pretty enough on the outside.

              I have heard women getting excited over a new dress or a new pair of shoes and then bored about a conversion.  I have seen men eagerly discussing cars or guns or sports, and turning away in apathy at a spiritual discussion.  I have seen people happy to discuss their misfortunes to anyone who will listen, while ignoring their blessings.  Do you think our children don’t see these examples?

              We teach them what to care most about, and they follow our examples all through their lives.  If I want my child to develop a deep relationship with God, then it’s time I had one myself.

              Tell your children what true beauty is, and then show them.  Make yourself beautiful with your good works, with your kind demeanor, with your loving spirit.  If you don’t, they may never learn what constitutes true beauty until they are mired in a horrible relationship that eventually ruins their lives.  The flowers in the ditch may be beautiful, but is that really where you want them to spend their lives?
             
Like a gold ring in a pig’s snout is a beautiful woman with no discretion, Prov 11:22.
 
Dene Ward

Air plants are epiphytes, which means they grow without soil.  They grow naturally on tree limbs or trunks, and can easily be grown in a terrarium indoors—usually those clear round balls people hang in their windows.  They do need watering once a week, and then they need to be allowed to dry out before they are watered again so they won't rot, but otherwise it is pretty hard to kill an air plant.  Some garden shops even call them "unkillable," which is surprising since it looks like we have managed to kill one.
 
             A neighbor gave us a staghorn fern.  It is large, probably weighing in at about forty pounds.  No, we did not kill that one, which would have amounted to burying good money in the ground.  Those things are worth a pretty penny.  Our neighbor has been offered several hundred dollars for her hundred pound specimen.  But we did remove two of the babies from ours, place them in nylon netting and then hang them on one of live oak trunks.  One is doing great, already producing more fronds, but the other is on its last legs, so to speak.  It has been that way for at least two months, which tells me this:  air plants may not be unkillable, but they certainly take a long time to die.

              I think I have seen a few air plants on the pews on Sunday mornings.  I guess they take in enough nutrients from the "atmosphere" they sit in to hang on for a good while.  Yet they never grow, they never bloom and put out new growth, and eventually they turn brittle and gray.  Finally they starve to death and completely dry up.  You would, too, if you only ate one small meal a week. 

              Those spiritual air plants may take years to finally give it up.  The thing is, even a dry, gray air plant can be revived with a good soak in the water.  If we find ourselves at death's spiritual door, we need a good soak in the Living Water to revive us.  After that, it's up to us to keep on growing, taking in what we need to not only survive, but thrive.  Then we can truly be "unkillable."
 
Be horrified at this, heavens; be shocked and utterly appalled. This is the LORD’s declaration.  For My people have committed a double evil: They have abandoned Me, the fountain of living water, and dug cisterns for themselves, cracked cisterns that cannot hold water. (Jer 2:12-13)

​Jesus said, “Everyone who drinks from this water will get thirsty again.  But whoever drinks from the water that I will give him will never get thirsty again — ever! In fact, the water I will give him will become a well of water springing up within him for eternal life.” (John 4:13-14)
 
Dene Ward