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

Leprosy was the most feared disease in the Bible.  It wasn’t just the impending death.  Other diseases were terminal.  But leprosy was the disease that killed your life before you ever died.
 
           The first mention of leprosy in historical documents was about 1500 BC.  The Bible mentions it as early as the book of Leviticus where its description and treatment are listed in chapters 13 and 14.  As the centuries progressed, most doctors considered leprosy a genetic disease.  Finally on February 28, 1873, Dr. Gerhard Henrik Armauer Hansen of Sweden discovered the bacillus that caused leprosy, proving once and for all that it was indeed an infectious disease, and eventually giving his name to it: Hansen’s disease.  The Bible seemed to realize from the beginning that it was infectious.

            A leper was considered ceremonially “unclean,” Lev 13:46.  That means he was no longer fit to even stand before God, much less serve Him.  If he were a priest, he could not partake of the sacrifices, Lev 22:4.  But no matter who he was, he was banned from the Temple, 2 Chron 26:21, and expelled from the people because his mere presence defiled the entire group, Num 5:2,3.

            He lived in isolation with others who shared his doom, and was required to warn anyone who might come near him with the shout of, “Unclean!  Unclean!” He had to make his disease obvious by his appearance, wearing torn clothes and leaving his hair loose and disheveled, with his upper lip covered, Lev 13:45.

            Leprosy became a metaphor for sin in the Bible, as should be obvious from the verses cited above and their spiritual significance-not fit to serve God, not fit to enter into His presence, not fit to be with His people, in fact, one who would defile the whole people.  God sent leprosy as a punishment several times—on Miriam, on Gehazi, on King Azariah/Uzziah.  The progress of the physical disease begins with an invisible infection, leading to disfigurement, deterioration, and death.  Surely you can see the progress of sin in a person’s life in parallel.

            And that leaves us with two profound lessons.  First, for Jesus to actually touch a leper and heal Him showed not only his power but also his mercy.  And Jesus is the only one who can cure us of that disease called sin.  He was the one who loved us enough to come down among all of us spiritual lepers, regardless of the danger of infection, and make us clean.  How many of us are like the nine lepers instead of the Samaritan, who was so profoundly grateful for being cleansed that he would fall on his face in gratitude to the one who cleansed him, even if it delayed his symbolic entrance back into the fold?

            And second, we should view sin as we view that awful disease.  Too many times I see Christians who flock to other diseased (sinful) people, heedless of the risk of infection, in fact, hoping for it, rather than treating it like the life-endangering disease it is.  Yes, we need to serve the sinners--by leading them home to the Great Physician, not by trying on their clothes, eating from their bowls, and rolling around in their beds. Sin, like leprosy, will make us outcasts from God, the only source of a cure.  Don’t we realize that, or is it that we long to be lepers like the rest of the world?
 
And behold, a leper came to him and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, if you will, you can make me clean.” And Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, saying, “I will; be clean.” And immediately his leprosy was cleansed, Matt 8:2-3.
 
Dene Ward

On February 15, 1876 the Seth Thomas Clock Co received a patent for the first alarm clock.  I doubt it was as beautiful a sound as the alarm clock I had one day last week when a wren sat on a limb outside my window and sang out its clear, loud, beautiful song.  It wasn’t quite time to get up, but it was such a nice alarm clock I found myself in a much better humor all morning despite the early rise.

            I thought throughout the day of the various “alarm clocks” I have had in my life—the gentle touch of a mother shaking me awake for school, the hand of a husband pulling me into a warm embrace a few minutes early, the cry of an infant letting me know he was hungry whether I was ready to get up or not!  I remember when those cries turned into coos and laughing as those same babies woke and played quietly in their cribs before the hunger pains set in.  Wonderful alarm clocks indeed.

            Alarm clocks are not just for waking us in the morning.  Alarm clocks for the soul have a much more serious job.  I can remember moments in my life when a word was said, a scripture was read, or a thought from a deep meditation suddenly blared in my heart as loudly as any alarm clock on the bedside table.  In one moment I knew I needed to make a change in my life, and I needed to do it quickly. 

            Keith has gotten so deaf that he can no longer hear an alarm clock.  We bought one designed especially for the hearing impaired—the “Sonic Boom and Earthquake Alarm Clock.”  He needs it for the few times a year I am not at home to hear for him.  Even though the extra loud “sonic boom” alarm would have me plastered to the ceiling, he still cannot hear it, so he uses the “earthquake” part of the clock.  A plastic disk about four inches in diameter lies beneath the mattress.  When the clock reaches the set time, this pad begins to vibrate—not just a little massage, but a pulsing shake that can take your breath away.  In fact, the company told us to lie on the bed and try it out while we were awake the first time.  They had too many customers come close to a heart attack when their first experience with it came while they slept.

            Sometimes it takes a good hard shake like that to wake us up.  We are too good at rationalizing and too poor at applying the scriptures to our own lives.  “But I didn’t mean…”  “But it’s not the same thing as…”  “But I would never do that…” escapes our lips too often for it to really be true. 

            The best alarm clock your soul can have is a trusted brother or sister in the Lord who is not blinded by his or her friendship with you, and whom you trust to tell you the truth for your own good, even when you don’t want to hear it.  Far better to have a one of those than have the Lord send you an earth shaking event to wake you up.  Neither a sonic boom nor an earthquake for the soul will be pleasant. 

            Get yourself an alarm clock and set it.  Then listen for it.
 
Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep.  For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed.  The night is far gone; the day is at hand.  So then let us cast off the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light, Rom 13:11-12.
 
Dene Ward

On December 5, 1992, the first text message was sent by Neil Papworth:  “Merry Christmas.”  We’ve certainly come a long way, and I am way behind.
 
           I especially have a difficult time with the new language of texting.  HHAYT?  F-TY?  ROFL?  FWIW?  BFF?  I wonder if some day we will all forget how to actually spell out words and future generations will need some sort of Rosetta Stone to figure out what we were saying to each other.

            From the context of several blogs I read, I finally understood that BFF must somehow refer to “best friend,” but the second “F” had me stumped.  Best Female Friend was the best I could come up with until the day I saw it appended to a man’s name.  So I swallowed my pride—yet again—and asked.  “Best Friend Forever,” I was told.  Mystery solved.

            Yes, you know me by now; I started thinking about Bible things.  This one is really so obvious, isn’t it?  Yet it seems somehow inappropriate to us to refer to a Divine Being as our “Best Friend.”  In fact, Jesus was called “a friend of sinners” as an insult wasn’t He?  The Son of man came eating and drinking, and they say, Behold, a gluttonous man and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners! Matt 11:19.  Aren’t we so glad He was? 

            James had no qualms about calling Abraham “the friend of God,” 2:23, because of the life of faith he lived.  It is possible, in fact, it is something we should all strive for.  What better friend could we have? 

            Do you think you cannot possibly achieve that goal?  Abraham was not a perfect man; he failed more than once.  Remember his lie about Sarah being his sister, something they tried everywhere they went, not just the two places they were caught at it, Gen 20:12,13?  How can we see that as anything but a lack of faith in God to keep them safe?  Yet all through his life, not just in this but also in the decision to use Hagar as a surrogate, Abraham probably did not envision his failures as faithless, but as a man who truly believed God’s promises and showed that belief by trying to help God when it seemed that circumstances might interfere. 

            Abraham learned over the years through the many misfortunes his “helping” brought him, that God could take care of Himself, that He did not need Abraham’s assistance.  The Lord waited until Sarah was physically unable to bear children.  He had Abraham send away Ishmael, the “just in case” baby.  Finally, on that lonely mountain when God asked the unthinkable, Abraham “got it.”  “God can raise him from the dead,” the Hebrew writer tells us Abraham thought, 11:19.  So he did as God asked and offered his son, just as his Friend would one day offer His.

            You don’t have to be perfect to be a friend of God.  You just have to believe and grow in that belief, learning to trust no matter how senseless it seems, to obey no matter the cost.  Do you want a real BFF?  So does God.  So does His Son.  And you can be it.
 
Greater love has no man than this that a man lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends, if you do the things which I command you, John 15:13,14.
 
Dene Ward

I was a teenager and remember the drama well.  On Dec 3, 1967, Dr Christiaan Barnard performed the first human heart transplant.  Louis Washkansky, a grocer from South Africa, received the heart of Denise Darvall, an automobile accident victim who had been declared brain dead.  The transplant was a success.  Mr. Washkansky’s body did not reject the organ and it functioned well.  However, 18 days later he died of complications, in this case double pneumonia.  Still, it was a medical milestone and that operation has gone on to become a viable treatment for many heart patients.
 
           Heart transplants, though, have been going on for thousands of years.  God has always required them.  What is repentance but the removal of an old sinful heart and the replacement of a completely new one?  . And I will give them one heart, and a new spirit I will put within them.  I will remove the heart of stone from their flesh and give them a heart of flesh, that they may walk in my statutes and keep my rules and obey them.  And they shall be my people, and I will be their God, Ezek 11:19,20.

            Too many times repentance is only skin deep.  We force ourselves to stop the old life and struggle every day to live the new one.  God wants us to rip out that old, stony heart and replace it with one that not only performs righteous deeds, but wants to perform them, wants to please Him, and wants to live as a follower of His Son.  It is so much easier to do right when the motivation is righteousness itself.

            But let’s be practical.  Sometimes the zeal wanes.  Sometimes we hit rough spots in the road and our desire to do right falters.  Temptation can overtake even the strongest.  Does that mean I have not made a new heart within me?  Not really.  How does that heart feel when it realizes it has fallen?  Maybe that is the telling point.  In his psalm of repentance after his atrocious sins David says, “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise,” not long after he begs God to, “Create in me a clean heart,” (Psalm 51:17 and 10).  It seems even a completely new heart can gather a little grime once in awhile, so do not be conquered by depression when you fail.

            If, however, you have not replaced that old heart with a new one, if you find yourself not only giving into temptation often but looking for the chance to and caring only whether or not you get caught, maybe you still have an old heart.  Maybe your soul rejected the new one. 

            God knows whether you had a heart transplant or not, and whether that surgery achieved its goal.  It may often be a painful operation, but it has a great record of success.  Lots of folks live forever.
 
Cast away from you all your transgressions, wherein you have transgressed; and make you a new heart and a new spirit: for why will you die, O house of Israel?  For I have no pleasure in the death of him who dies, says the Lord Jehovah: wherefore turn yourselves, and live, Ezek 18:31,32..
 
Dene Ward

For he is not a man, as I am, that I should answer him, that we should come together in judgment.  There is no umpire between us, that he might lay his hand upon us both, Job 9:32,33.
           
            On October 6, 1845, attorney William R. Wheaton umpired the first recorded “modern” game of base ball (two separate words in those days).  The teams were amateur clubs, and the Knickerbockers Club of New York set forth the rule that there should be three umpires, one chosen by each team, and a neutral referee to decide split decisions.  In 1858, the National Association of Base Ball Players sanctioned a single umpire chosen by the home team with the consent of the rival captain.  And so umpires have been ruling the diamond ever since.

            In those very early days, the umpire was usually a spectator or a player; someone, in other words, who knew the game well, and, even in the case of a spectator, probably had experience playing it.  Who better to understand what was happening?  Would you choose someone off the street who had never even seen a game?  Would you choose someone from another country who could hardly even speak English to make important decisions in a distinctly American pastime?

            And so Job says that we had the same problem under the Old Law—there was no one who understood both sides of the equation.  There was no one who could “lay his hands on both” God and man.

            Then God emptied Himself, taking “the form of a servant,” becoming man, being “tempted in all points like us.”  Finally there was someone who understood both what it was like to be man and what is was like to be God.  He could identify with either and sympathize with both.  Is there anyone any better qualified to be “the one mediator between God and man, himself man, Christ Jesus?”

            We have talked about that often, and read those passages often, but they reminded me of something I need to be careful about.  When I was much younger, I had all the answers.  When someone came to me with a problem, the solution was simple.  “This is what the Bible says to do.  If you don’t, you don’t have enough faith.  Shame on you!”  In every case, I had no experience with the problem they were asking about, and so while I may have had a “right” answer, what I was seriously lacking in was compassion.  I really did not understand the problem because I had never experienced it.  But I am not the only one.  Many of my brethren are notorious for a lack of compassion, for stern reprimands and little understanding.

            Let me say this quickly—having compassion does not mean the right answer changes.  What it does mean is I am less judgmental, more willing to forgive, and far more willing to see a problem through with a brother or sister, no matter how long it takes.  I am far less likely to become exasperated when they need encouragement yet again.  I understand that one long afternoon of counseling doesn’t necessarily make all the ramifications of sin disappear.  I MUST understand that I DON’T really understand and never will, and therefore must be patient.  If God had to become man to understand what it was like to be a man, why do I think I can come running in with my rigid rules and expect a person to suddenly become my idea of the perfect Christian when I have never been in their shoes?  I am one lousy advisor (umpire) if I do.

            Which then, of course, makes me realize how blessed we are to be standing in these “last days,” where we do have that Umpire, who can lay His hands upon us both, and with amazing compassion, understand every problem, every trial, and every failure.  And this Umpire, who is far more merciful than we are, never makes a bad call.
 
Since the children are sharers in flesh and blood, he also himself in like manner partook of the same, that through death he might bring to nought him that had the power of death, that is, the devil; and might deliver all them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage. For verily not to angels does he give help, but he gives help to the seed of Abraham.  Wherefore it behooved him in all things to be made like unto his brethren, that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people.  For in that he himself has suffered being tempted, he is able to succor them that are tempted, Heb 2:14-18.
 
Dene Ward

On September 16, 1940, as a result of the Burke-Wadsworth Act , the United States imposed the first peacetime draft in its history.  Men aged 21 to 36 were required to register and it was estimated that 20 million were eligible.  50% were rejected for health reasons or illiteracy.  By the end of World War II, the age requirement had stretched to 37.  34 million had registered and 10 million had served.  Although a Conscientious Objector status was created, 5000-6000 were imprisoned for failing to register or serve.

            God’s kingdom has no need of a Selective Service System because everyone is “drafted” at their new birth.  You cannot be a citizen in His kingdom without being a soldier as well.  We are required to fight every day of our lives, in every arena imaginable.  In the home, at the office, at school, in traffic or crowded malls, even in the solitude of our own rooms Satan can find a way to pick a fight.  Sometimes it’s an open battle against a false doctrine.  Other times it’s a quiet struggle against temptation.  No matter what kind of battle he wages, God expects us to equip ourselves for it and to fight with all our strength.

            We cannot beg off duty because of spiritual flat feet.  We won’t be rejected due to spiritual illiteracy.  If we have not worked to make ourselves strong and studied to gain the knowledge and encouragement we need to win, we will become an easy mark in the war, and we will have only ourselves to blame.

            And if we refuse to register and serve?  The enemy is out there whether we choose to fight or not.  We will simply become the first of many casualties.

            Yet for the Christian who serves willingly, who arms himself with the invincible armor of God, the war has already been won.  We are simply fighting the last skirmishes, the clean-up operations, which will finally, and utterly, destroy the enemy and grant us eternal peace.

Suffer hardship with me as a good soldier of Christ.  No soldier on service entangles himself in the affairs of this life, that he may please him who enrolled him as a soldier, 2 Tim 2:3,4.

Dene Ward

We are so far out in the country that we only receive two TV channels, and those are snowy on good days.  Many years ago we all agreed that we would give up other gifts to have a 75 foot TV antenna with a booster erected outside the house as our family Christmas gift.  The Gators were playing so in order to have it working as soon as it was up Keith did not wait to drill a hole through the floor and run the wire up that way.  He simply pulled out a corner of the window screen closest to the television, and opened the window a crack.  He would get to it later.  As is the case with most of us, “later” was put off longer and longer.

            Then one morning the inevitable happened.  I looked over and thought, “That wire certainly looks thicker than usual.”  When I got closer I discovered the reason—a black racer had wound itself around it, and was already halfway through the window. 

            I grabbed a broom and smacked at the window, hoping that would scare the snake back outside.  It worked the opposite way.  The snake’s slow slither through the opening turned into a swift swish all the way inside, dropping with a thud on the floor.  Yikes!  Now I had a snake in my house.  I was not going to leave it.  If I lost track of it, I knew I would never sleep again with a snake somewhere inside, especially one that had shown a proclivity for climbing.  I could just imagine it wound around the posts at the head of my iron bed while I slept.

            Luckily the boys were home that day. They ran to get the things I called for while I kept an eye on the unwelcome visitor. Together we did our best to scare that snake out the door with brooms and mops and anything else we could find.  It kept curling into a ball or hiding under a chair.  At one point, the thought crossed my mind to try sucking it up in the vacuum—at least the hose would be a perfect fit! 

            I came to my senses before that thought became a spoken idea, and told them to bring a box.  Lucas found one and put the box on the floor, open side toward the snake, while I swept it with the broom.  Every time it neared the box, it flattened itself and slid underneath it instead of going inside.  We tried several times, but finally my nerves were shot. I was through trying to be nice to this one of God’s creatures. 

            Once more I sent the boys on an errand.  When they returned, I stood on a chair, loaded the proffered .22 pistol with rat shot so I wouldn’t blow a hole in either the floor or the wall (normally I use a shotgun with a much heavier load) and shot that snake where he lay.  I gave him his chance and he blew it.  He was not going to use my house as his own private playground.

            All that for a literal snake, while we had voluntarily let loose an electronic snake in our home.  When we chose to go to the expense of installing that other kind of snake, it was with a purpose—we were seldom able to watch our teams play; this was the only way and the cheapest in the long run.  But our boys knew that it was not there for indiscriminate watching.  More than once we uttered that mean word, “No.”  More than once we turned it off and said, “Never again,” for a particular show.  We even limited their hours of “good” show time.  We did not want to be responsible for creating illiterate, overweight, glassy-eyed couch potatoes.

            The first professional television drama began on September 11, 1928, “The Queen’s Messenger,” and broadcast television has come a long way from those innocent days.  Calling it a snake is an apt metaphor, especially when you remember the first appearance of a snake in the Bible. 

            Not everyone is careful with that snake in their homes.  Not only do they let it sit in the corner unmonitored, but many even let it baby-sit their children.  It feeds their minds and their hearts for hours every day.  It teaches them that sin is acceptable, and that anyone who thinks otherwise is either hateful or crazy.  It inures them to foul language and crude comments.  It teaches children—and adults--to take pleasure watching the sins of others, to admire those sinners and want to emulate them, right down to the clothes they wear.  It tells them that nothing is sacred, except the right to do anything they please without censure.

            Some people do keep snakes as pets, but they learn how to handle them, and know better than to let them loose unattended.  If you are going to keep an electronic snake in your home, remember to keep a close eye on it, and never let it teach your children.  Abdicating your responsibility as parents is aiding and abetting the enemy.

For I have told [Eli] that I will judge his house forever, for the iniquity which he knew, because his sons did bring a curse upon themselves, and he restrained them not, 1 Sam 3:13.

Dene Ward