The Erie Canal opened for business on October 26, 1825.  The history of the canal makes interesting reading.  Somewhere I came across the nickname, “the canal that salt built.”  Syracuse, one of its principal ports, shipped most of the salt used in the United States.  The Erie Canal dramatically lowered the shipping costs of that and other commodities, and made those otherwise inland cities more prosperous.  

            Keith and I have differing opinions about salt.  He adds it to everything, copiously.  I add it to some things all the time and others seldom, and usually just a mere sprinkle.  Since his stroke a few years ago, he has become a little more moderate, cutting his amounts by using serious quantities of black pepper instead.                                                                       

            In the summer he must worry less about it.  We live in Florida, which means on a summer afternoon he will come in from the garden soaking wet, with his pant hems literally dripping sweat, and even pouring it out of shoes.  He stays hydrated with a gallon of water sitting in the shade of a nearby oak, usually a gallon before lunch and another afterward.  On those days, he doesn’t worry about how much salt he puts on his platter of sliced garden tomatoes in the evening.

            Just out of curiosity I looked up the dietary salt requirement.  Considering how much you hear about the evils of salt, I was surprised.  Did you know that too little in your diet can affect your moods and even cause depression?  It is also the reason for some falls in the elderly.  They wind up with hyponatremia, which causes dizziness and balance issues.  Low salt diets can lead to Type 2 diabetes by impairing insulin sensitivity.  None of this gives us the green light to consume too much salt, but maybe we should check where we stand with our doctors on these issues before cutting out too much of it.

            In all that study I also found a list of special uses for salt.  We all know that salt is a food preservative.  I also use it as a gargle for sore throats.  I hate doing it, but it works.  These other things I have not tried, so take them with, ahem, a grain of salt.

            Sprinkle salt on the shelves in your pantry to keep away the ants.
            Soak freshly caught fish in salt water to make scaling them easier.
            A pinch of salt in egg whites will make them beat up fluffier.
            A dash of salt in gelatin will cause it to set faster.
            Clean greens in salt water for easier dirt removal.

            Pour salt on an ink-stained carpet and leave overnight.  It will soak up the stain.

            Pour salt on sidewalk cracks to kill weeds and grass.
Then I looked up salt in the scriptures and got another education.

            Ezek 16:4 mentions rubbing a newborn with salt.  For some that symbolized cleansing.  For the Eastern cultures at large, it was thought to make the infant’s skin firm.

            Ex 30:35 and Lev 2:13 tell us that God required salt on his sacrifices.  Salt was considered the opposite of leavening (so much for the notion that no salt should be used in unleavened bread), and it signified both the purity and faithfulness required to worship Jehovah, and Jehovah’s enduring love for his people.

            And that led to the “covenants of salt” mentioned in places like Num 18:19 and 2 Chron 13:5.  God’s covenant with his people was considered perpetual.

            So now you see why I started looking at Col 4:6 a little differently.  Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer each person.  Usually I hear, “Salt makes things sweeter, so be sweet and kind when you talk with someone.”  That is truly a one-dimensional explanation.  Yes, salt can make a tasteless melon taste sweeter.  Even the ancients knew that (Job 6:6).  One of the classic combinations in Italian cooking is prosciutto, a salty ham, thinly sliced and wrapped around melon wedges.  Yet if there is no sugar in the food, the salt can hardly make it taste sweeter.  The correct statement is that salt brings out whatever flavors are present in the first place.

            And what about the other aspects of salt associated with that culture, purification, preservation, faithfulness, and perpetuality? That verse in Colossians indicates that my answer may change according to circumstance, “that you may know how to answer each person.”  Can the words I choose help purify a sinner?  Can they show my faithfulness to God when I am questioned by an unbeliever?  Can they tell others that I know my God will always be there for me and that is why I will always be there for him, regardless how they treat me?  Absolutely, and some of those words might not be particularly sweet. 

            Salt, on occasion, stings.  So does God’s grace when it offers me things I do not want to hear in my present circumstances, so my “graciousness” to others may well have them smarting when it comes “out of season”—a time they do not want to hear it.  In fact, since salt can only enhance what is already there, perhaps it is the hearer who determines how sweet my words are in the first place.

            God’s Word is simple enough for anyone to understand it on the surface, but remember that if you apply yourself, you can dig deeper into more layers than in any book written by a man.  Salt, for instance, can flavor your studies for a good while. 
           
You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people's feet, Matt 5:13.
 
Dene Ward

At 9 pm, Sunday night, October 8, 1871, a small fire started in the city of Chicago.  By Tuesday night, 73 miles of road, 120 miles of sidewalk, 2000 lampposts, 17,500 buildings, and nearly 4 sq mi of the city had been destroyed.  Property damages amounted to $222 million, and 90,000 of the city’s 300,000 residents were homeless.  A casualty count was never accurately determined but was estimated at 200 to 300. 
            Catherine O’Leary owned a small dairy at the fire’s origin.  It has become the stuff of legend and song that Mrs. O’Leary’s cow started the Great Chicago Fire when it kicked over a kerosene lamp during the evening milking.  The woman was even vilified in the Chicago Tribune.
            All these years later I was able to find articles that, with both facts and logic, exonerated Mrs. O’Leary.  The Chicago firemen were weary from fighting a Saturday night blaze.  Many had been without food and sleep for close to 24 hours.  The equipment was in poor condition because of that earlier fire, especially the hoses.  The wrong alarm box was sounded in the firehouse due to an inaccurate sighting, which delayed the arrival of the firefighters, and the man responsible for re-sounding the correct one when notified didn’t, “because they’ll find the right place when they get there.  It’s on the way.”  Evidently not.
            As for Mrs. O’Leary, she claimed that she and her husband had gone to bed and were unaware that a fire had started until it was too late.  Dairy owners rise well before daylight to take care of the morning milking, so that makes sense.  Evening milkings are done much earlier than 9 pm.  In fact, had she been in the barn it would have been a simple matter to have put out the small fire before it got out of hand, if indeed it was the accused cow that started it.  No one in the barn means no kerosene lamp.
            So what about arson?  Was the dairy failing?  Were their huge debts that a nice-sized insurance check would have covered?  That is a moot point because neither the barn, nor the cows, nor the supplies were insured.  Arson would have done them no good at all.  I am inclined to believe that Mrs. O’Leary was completely innocent.
            We, though, are not as innocent when we start fires.  Even so the tongue is a little member, and boasts great things. Behold how great a matter a little fire kindles!  James 3:5.  A small barn was the starting point for 4 sq miles of devastation.  Something as small as the tongue can start something just as devastating, that travels just as far and just as fast.  We once received a phone call from a friend 150 miles away asking if what he had heard about us was true.  We are grateful that he called and asked, because it was not true at all.  Thanks to a friend who cared enough to check, we were able to put out a fire that could have caused us much trouble and sorrow, perhaps ruining our reputations for life.
            Sometimes the statements we make are perfectly innocent, but we are not careful how they come out or who hears them.  Kerosene lamps, especially in the nineteenth century, were beneficial tools after all.  Yet all it would take was one moment of carelessness for an accident to bring about a catastrophe.  And so all it takes from us is one careless word, even one well-meant, to “set on fire the entire course of life,” James 3:6. 
            And then there are the arsonists who set those fires on purpose.  They like to see the fire, the confusion, the havoc they can wreak in the lives of others.  It fills them with a power they otherwise can’t feel, and that is why it is so satisfying to them.  Gossip can do exactly the same thing.  Repeating rumors, perhaps even embroidering them to the point that by the fourth or fifth telling there is little if any truth left in them, can be empowering.  Nothing ever happens to me, I am important to no one, but look at all the trouble I can cause anyway.  Arsonists often kill people when they engage in their crime.  Gossips are no better than those murderers when they commit “character assassination.”  
            Be careful out there today.  If one kerosene lamp can start a fire that nearly destroys a large city, one word can ruin a life.  Don’t be the one who knocks over the lamp or the one who adds to the flame by listening.
 
For lack of wood the fire goes out, and where there is no whisperer, quarreling ceases.  As charcoal to hot embers and wood to fire, so is a quarrelsome man for kindling strife, Prov 26:20.21.

 

Dene Ward
 

I have been a Star Trek fan since Captain Kirk sat on the bridge of the first USS Enterprise—the first Starship Enterprise, that is—on September 8, 1966 (our time).  I wasn’t even a teenager then and didn’t realize until years later how ahead of its time it was, nor that the strongest episodes were really parables.  Remember the two aliens who had faces half black and half white, and who hated one another because one had the black half on the right side and the other’s black half was on the left?  Our biases make just as much sense, that episode taught us.

            The show worked for me because of the characters and their relationships with each other.  If it had been all about gizmos and explosions, I would have lost interest quickly.  I knew who they were, their backgrounds, their likes and dislikes, and their pet phrases.  When Star Trek: The Next Generation came along, the producers really hit the jackpot and this time people were ready for it.  It’s a shame that the television movers and shakers still looked down their noses.  Patrick Stewart deserved a couple of Emmys. 
Brent Spiner deserved even more.

            Get a couple of Trekkies together and they will talk for hours about favorite characters and episodes.  To them these people are almost real.  And they will spot the discrepancies between episodes or movies in an instant.  When Scottie showed up on TNG, having survived in a continuous transporter buffer pattern for 75 years, and thought Jim Kirk was still alive, my antenna twitched.  You see, in Star Trek: Generations, the movie that put Capt Kirk and Capt Picard together for the first and only time, Scottie saw Jim Kirk die.  He would not have expected to be saved by him.  The producers should have caught that.

            I’m sure you are already getting the point.  When we are really interested in something, we will spend hours on it.  We will take it in and remember it.  We will catch on to every detail, no matter how trivial and useless.  Why, who is to say it’s useless?  Have you noticed that no fictional character will sneeze or cough unless he’s doomed to a virus that affects the plot?  And everyone knows that the previously unknown character in the red shirt will soon be zapped by the alien.

            Doesn’t it strike you as odd that people who claim to be children of God know so little about His word?  That people who call themselves disciples of Christ have a problem remembering the main events of his life?  Forget about the details.  (Quick!  Name Jesus’ brothers.  How about his cousins?  Name all eleven of the Simons/Simeons in the Bible.  Which apostles were known by at least three names?)

            As people of God we should be interested in Him.  We ought to want nothing more than to know His will and do it.  We should be able to talk about it for hours and look for every opportunity to learn even more.  I know people who can list Erica Kane’s husbands in order, or recite the starting lineups for all their favorite pro teams, including stats and colleges.  Some of these people are Christians whose Bible knowledge wouldn’t fill a thimble.

            Trekkies are called that for a reason.  They know that James T Kirk was (will be?) born on March 22, 2228, in Riverside, Iowa.  They know that Spock’s full name is S’chn T’gai Spock.  They can even speak a few words of Klingon, a language that doesn’t even exist! NUQ DAQ YUJ DA’POL = “Where’s the chocolate?” a phrase everyone should know, whether Klingon or Terran!

            Christians are called that for a reason as well.  Do you fit the description?
 
But the LORD sits enthroned forever; he has established his throne for justice, and he judges the world with righteousness; he judges the peoples with uprightness. The LORD is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O LORD, have not forsaken those who seek you, Psa 9:7-10.
 
Dene Ward

Sir Walter Scott was born on August 15, 1771.  Besides being the inventor of the historical romantic novel, such as Ivanhoe,  he is also known for the many phrases coined in his writings,  “Caught red-handed,” “cold shoulder,” “go berserk,” “lock, stock, and barrel,” “tongue in cheek,” back of beyond,” and “apple of my eye,” are all common phrases attributed to Scott.

          “Blood is thicker than water,” is another, meaning that family relationships are more important than those between unrelated people.  I think to Christians, though, the sad truth of the matter is, “Blood is thicker than the waters of baptism.”

            How many times have you seen a preacher change his views on an issue when suddenly it involved his family instead of someone else’s?  How many times has an elder of the church shown a difference in how he treated the sins of one member and the sin of another based upon his family relationship with them?  And how many times has a family left the church disgruntled, or taken up for their wayward kin, when the church’s obligation to discipline fell upon that sinner?  Many seem to forget that Jesus plainly told us, “He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.”

            Jesus loved his earthly family.  He made a point to give his mother over to the care of her nephew John, even while he hung in agony on the cross.  Yet when the family came to see him while he preached, he asked those who informed him, “Who is my mother and who are my brethren?  And he stretched forth his hands to his disciples and said, Behold my mother and my brethren!  For whoever shall do the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is my brother and my sister, and my mother,” Matt 12:48-50.

            The Jews counted heavily on physical relationships.  More than once they proudly claimed, “We have Abraham as our father,” to which Jesus replied, “If Abraham were your father you would do the works of Abraham,” John 8:38-40.  John told them from the beginning of his ministry, “Do not begin to say within yourselves, We have Abraham to our father for I say to you that God is able of these stones to raise up children to Abraham,” Luke 3:8, so this was not a new thought, and it plainly shows how little physical relationships mean to God.

            We could multiply the verses telling us that physical parentage is not the most important thing, but rather one’s spiritual parentage.  Abraham, as the father of the faithful, is usually the one designated as our spiritual patriarch.  This also makes the point to the Gentile Christians that they did not have to be physically related to that great believer to be his children, and they were not second class citizens because they did not have a physical Jewish heritage.

            “…that [Abraham] might be the father of all who believe, even though they be in uncircumcision,” Rom 4:11.

            “…which is of the faith of Abraham who is the father of us all,” Rom 4:16.

            “And if you are Christ’s you are Abraham’s seed, heirs according to the promise,” Gal 3:29.

            “For verily not to angels does he give help, but to the seed of Abraham,” Heb 2:16.

            And especially to the women, “Even as Sarah obeyed Abraham…whose daughter you are as long as you do well,” 1Pet 3:6.

            It does not matter who your parents are.  It does not matter where you came from.  It does not matter your race or country of origin.  You are the children of whomever you take after.  That is the meaning of so many metaphors in the scriptures.  Are you a “son of disobedience?”  You are if you disobey.  Are you a “child of light?”  You are if you walk in the light.  It is the spiritual aspect of a person that determines his spiritual end.  And that couldn’t be fairer, because while we cannot control who our physical parents are, we can control who our spiritual parents are.  Doesn’t that make it even more wonderful when those physical parents are also part of your spiritual family?

            If you are not living right, don’t blame your parents or society.  Abraham came from idolatrous ancestry, having grown up in an idolatrous culture, Josh 24:2.  Yet he is the very one given as an example of faith and obedience.  If he can overcome his heritage so can we, and if our heritage is a godly one, we of all people have no excuse.

            The waters of baptism have given us new parentage, a Father in Heaven, and new siblings, both here and in Heaven.  When we believe that physical relationships trump the spiritual, when our obligations to God are put aside for the sake of a family member, we are not just disowning the members of the church, but also our Father and Older Brother in Heaven.  We are saying that physical blood means more than spiritual water that put us into the sacrificial blood that frees us from a life of sin (Rom 6: 1-14).  No wonder he said He would deny us if we deny Him.
 
They answered and said to him, Our father is Abraham.
Jesus said to them, If you were Abraham’s children, you would do the works of Abraham…
[They said] We have one Father, even God.
Jesus said to them, If God were your Father you would love me…Why do you not understand my speech?  Because you cannot hear my word.  You are of your father the Devil, and the lusts of your father it is your will to do…When he speaks a lie he speaks of his own, for he is a liar, and the father thereof.  But because I say the truth you believe me not…For this cause you hear not—because you are not [children] of God, John 8:39-47.
 
Dene Ward

A few years ago, we had the coldest winter in years.  While it never went below 20 on my back porch thermometer, we had more consecutive nights in the 20s than I can remember in a long time, and twice had snow in the forecast.  We didn’t get any, but towns not too far north and south of here did.  For nearly two weeks in January the high temperature never climbed over 40.  That is NOT normal in Florida.

            More than any winter in recent times I was glad to have my wood stove sitting in the middle of the house.  When I came in chilled from being outdoors a little too long or damp from the many winter rains, or when I drank just a little too much iced tea for supper, I had a place I could back up to and get warm again. 

            On July 17, 1902, Carrier invented the first air conditioner, which later became central air, and then central heat and air.  As big a boon as that was, especially in the heat of a Florida summer, it lacks something in the winter—no place to go to get warm.  You don’t really want it that warm everywhere in the house.  Washing a sink full of dishes, or baking for a couple of hours in the kitchen would be too uncomfortable.  And who can afford the heating bill if you actually put the thermostat at something over 70?  But having every place in the house under 70 is uncomfortable.

            I remember dressing for school on winter mornings in the warm center hall of our little house, draping my clothes over the door to the oil heater to warm them, and huddling up to it while I waited.  It may have been chilly in the bedroom, but there was always somewhere to go to get warm.  Every home should have a center of warmth somewhere, a place where you feel like you are wrapped in a warm embrace. Every soul should have one too.

            Think about the scenes of comfort and acceptance the Bible speaks of.  Jesus took the little children “into his arms,” (Mark 9:36); John was “reclining in Jesus’ bosom,” (John 13:23); Lazarus died and went to Paradise and lay “in [Abraham’s] bosom,” (Luke 16:23).  It speaks of an intimacy we can only imagine, as Christ was before time in Heaven “in the bosom of the Father,” (John 1:18).  I cannot remember how many times I held a sick child in my lap, wrapping him up in my arms, a blanket over the both of us to keep him warm.  That often made him feel better than the medicine did, if not more so.

            The Lord’s bosom is where we go when the world seems a little too cold; when a spiritual fever wracks our souls and gives us chills; when even a friend greets us with an icy stare, when we are alone and need close contact with someone who loves us.

            God always provides a center of warmth for His children.  Run into His arms and get warm again.
 
He will feed His flock like a shepherd, He will gather the lambs in His arm, and carry them in His bosom, and gently lead those that have their young, Isa 40:11.
 
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

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

Keith mentioned a few weeks ago that Sonny James had died. 

            “Who?” I asked.
           
            “You know—‘Running Bear,’ and ‘Young Love’—the country singer.”

            Ah!  “Running Bear” I remembered.  It was on the radio nearly every day for a while when I was a young teen.  Sonny James was born on May 1, 1928,  Keith found an article and there it was all set out for us:  26 #1 hit singles and 16 #1 hits in a row.  He still holds the record for consecutive #1 hits by any solo recording artist throughout all musical genres.  And I couldn’t remember who he was!

            So, I got to thinking and, it being just passed, I looked up the Oscar winners.  Tell me, do you know who Warren Baxter was?  He won the 1930 Best Actor Oscar for his role in “In Old Arizona.”  I never even heard of the movie.  How about Paul Lukas?  He won in 1944.  Don’t tell me, “But that’s so long ago.”  It hasn’t even been a hundred years.  It certainly isn’t ancient history.

            How about nominees?  Let’s just sit awhile in the Best Actress category.  Ruth Chatterton?  Betty Compson? Jeanne Eagels?  They were nominated in 1928.  May Robson and Diana Wynyard?  They came along in 1932.  Martha Scott?  That was 1941, and Celia Johnson was nominated in 1945.  Okay, let’s make it easier.  How about 1966?  That was Ida Kaminska.  I still never heard of her.  Marie-Christine Barrault was nominated in 1976.  Surely you know her?  Here’s an easy one—1989.  Most of you were probably born by then.  Ever hear of Pauline Collins?  Me neither.

            I bet I could do the same thing with Emmys, Tonys, Grammys, and how about Heisman awards?  Do you see the point?  A huge percentage of these people will never be remembered by anyone just a few years from now.  Acting is not that important in the grand scheme of things.  Touchdown passes, slam dunks, and home runs don’t really matter.  Why, oh why, do we lavish our praise and adoration on these people?  Why do we wear their colors and their numbers, dress like they do, talk like they do, and want their signatures on hats and shirts and napkins?

            Think for a minute: who do we remember?  How about a widow who sewed for the poor in the town of Joppa?  How about a Christian couple who were chased out of Rome for being of Jewish extraction, but who kept traveling preachers in their home and even helped teach them and anyone else who came along, even at the risk of death?  How about a wealthy woman in Jerusalem who allowed the church to meet in her home in the midst of a dangerous persecution so they could pray for those in prison?  How about a disciple in Damascus who took his life into his hands to preach to one of the church’s worst persecutors?  How about yet another one who was known for his encouraging ways, who traveled and preached and took young preachers under his wing till they could grow to be mature servants of God?

            I bet you know every one of their names and can find their stories in your Bible.  These are the things that last.  These are the things that no one will forget.  These are the things that will make a difference to lives, and more than that, to eternal souls. 

            And most of these are things we can do, too.  Do you want to be remembered?  Put down the football.  Throw down the novel.  Turn off the DVD.  Pull out the earbuds.  Now go out there and do good to whomever you find, everywhere you can.  You will be remembered—by many, and especially by the One who counts.
 
​…Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. ​For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also…for what is exalted among men is an abomination in the sight of God.  Luke 12:33-34; 16:15.
 
Dene Ward

P S--Happy birthday son!

On April 2, 1931, Jackie Mitchell, a seventeen year old rookie with the Southern Association’s AA Chattanooga Lookouts, was put on the mound in relief when the Yankees stopped by for an exhibition game on the way home from spring training. 

            The first batter to face Mitchell was Babe Ruth.  The rookie pitched a ball.  Then came a swing and a miss, twice.  The next pitch was a called strike.  In four pitches the teenager had struck out Babe Ruth.

            Next up was Lou Gehrig—three swings and three misses—OUT. 

            Did I mention that Jackie was a girl?

            Before the game Ruth had commented:  “[Women] will never make good [in baseball].  Why?  Because they’re too delicate.  It will kill them to play every day.”  Then he and his fellow future Hall-of-Famer were promptly struck out by a woman, and a teenage rookie at that.

            And when the Philistine looked about and saw David, he disdained him for he was but a youth, and ruddy, and withal of fair countenance.  And the Philistine said unto David, Am I a dog that you come to me with staves?  And the Philistine cursed David by his gods, 1 Sam 17:42,43.

            Goliath had the same problem Babe Ruth did.  He thought he was invincible.  Certainly a young, inexperienced teenager couldn’t beat him.  Even some of God’s own people thought the same, especially David’s brothers.  “What are you doing here, you little twerp?  You left your work just to come watch the battle, didn’t you?”

            We say all the time that we have faith, that we know God can handle anything.  Yet when we see God’s methods, we instantly doubt.  “This can’t be right.  It’ll never work.”  We find ourselves standing with the Jews who rejected our Lord.  “Who does he think he is?  He’s just the carpenter’s son.  This is God’s idea of a king?” 

            What kinds of giants are you attempting to slay in your life?  Anger, depression, addiction, foul language, a persistent sin that it seems you can never control?  Are you in the middle of a painful and debilitating illness?  Have you lost someone close to you, someone you are not sure you can live without?  Has a long persistent trial depleted you of spiritual energy?  If a teenage rookie can strike out Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig back to back, something God doesn’t even care about, much less would intervene in, why can’t I strike out the problems that beset me when the Almighty God has promised to help me do just that? 

            How many times has God conquered a nation with just a handful?  Review today the stories of Gideon, of Jonathan and his armor bearer, of the angel of the Lord who struck down 180,000 Assyrians in one night to save the besieged nation of Judah.  Think about Esther who saved an entire race of people without a miracle, about Jehosheba who thwarted a massacre by stealing a baby away in the night thus saving the Messianic dynasty from the pollution of Ahab’s sin.  Remember the many parents who raised children in faith, children who grew up to save countless numbers with their preaching—Zacharias and Elizabeth, Eunice, Mary of Jerusalem, and of course, Mary and Joseph, insignificant people making a more than significant impact because they trusted God to help them.

            God can accomplish anything He wants to accomplish, any way He wants to accomplish it.  If I think otherwise, I might very well be keeping Him from accomplishing something wonderful through me.  Open your heart this morning.  Un-tether your faith from thoughts of impossibilities, and fasten on to a God who knows no limits. 
 
And Asa cried unto Jehovah his God and said, Jehovah, there is none besides you to help, between the mighty and him that has no strength.  Help us, O Jehovah our God, for we rely on you and in your name are we come against this multitude. O Jehovah, you are our God, let no man prevail against you, 2 Chron 14:11.
 
Dene Ward

Masquerade balls have a varied and grisly history, depending upon which historian you believe.  Some say they were invented by the Venetian upper classes in the sixteenth century during Carnival season as a way to let loose without getting into trouble.  Others say they began in the fourteenth century in France when whole villages celebrated an important event, often a welcome of some high dignitary into their town.  Crimes were sometimes committed amid the anonymity, as well as immorality of all sorts, especially drunkenness, gluttony and lust.  The English took them up in the eighteenth century, though some considered them outings for “The Man of Taste.”  Then the Swedes discovered them, but on the night of March 16, 1792, King Gustav III was assassinated at his own masquerade ball by a disgruntled nobleman.  He died two weeks later on March 29 and due to an informant among the cabal, so did the murderer’s anonymity.
           
            God’s people would never try to hide their sins would they?  The people of God have always understood that as God, He knew everything they did, even the things done “in secret,” right?

            At that time Abijah the son of Jeroboam fell sick. And Jeroboam said to his wife, “Arise, and disguise yourself, that it not be known that you are the wife of Jeroboam, and go to Shiloh. Behold, Ahijah the prophet is there, who said of me that I should be king over this people. Take with you ten loaves, some cakes, and a jar of honey, and go to him. He will tell you what shall happen to the child,” 1Kgs 14:1-3.

            Consider the foolishness of this situation.  Jeroboam believes this man is a prophet of God, yet he thinks he can trick him, first by sending someone instead of going himself, and second by disguising that someone.  If God can do what Jeroboam believes He can, then how will He be fooled by a disguise?

            This isn’t the only instance recorded in the scriptures.  Ananias and Sapphira come quickly to mind.  But in my lifetime, I’ve seen Christians do the same thing again and again, and sadly, sometimes I have fallen into this trap too. 

            Usually it’s the obvious—Sunday morning Christians who seem to think that God does not know what goes on the rest of the week, as if He is bound by the meetinghouse doors.

            But there are a few more complex ways of disguising ourselves.  Some of us do the right things, but without the heart, or with entirely the wrong heart.  As long as God sees me take the Lord’s Supper every Sunday or attend whenever the doors are opened, it doesn’t matter that I hate every minute of it.   As long as I give, it doesn’t really matter if I do it grudgingly or not.  As long as I shake everyone’s hand, it doesn’t matter if I hate the very sight of them.  Really?

            But then there are those who raise their hands and shout hallelujah, who “give God the glory” every other sentence and hug everyone in sight, but who are quick to find an excuse for not doing exactly what God says He wants.  “It’s such a little thing…”  “God wouldn’t mind…”  “But God knows my heart.”  Yep.  He knows it’s a heart of self will that only pretends to love and worship Him as long as it gets things its way.

            Hypocrisy, legalism, ritualism, emotionalism—God wants none of these disguises.  He wants people who love Him and serve Him the way He wants to be served, because He is the great and glorious God who sees all we do and knows our hearts, and He alone deserves it.  God has never gone for masquerades.
 
The LORD looks down from heaven; he sees all the children of man; from where he sits enthroned he looks out on all the inhabitants of the earth, he who fashions the hearts of them all and observes all their deeds, Ps 33:13-15.
 
Dene Ward