On February 1, 1960, four students from North Carolina A & T staged a sit-in at the whites-only lunch counter in a Greensboro, North Carolina, Woolworth's.  It was not the first sit-in, but it was the first time that students had been able to make a difference.  Before, Civil Rights had been considered something for "grown-ups."  By April that year, 70 southern cities had experienced sit-ins, a direct result of this one. 
            I wonder if the feelings of people then were similar to the time when word came to Jerusalem about Peter preaching to Cornelius, the first Gentile convert (Acts 10).  They certainly took him to task in chapter 11.  By the end of that explanation, Antioch was preaching to Gentiles and welcoming them to the fold right and left (Acts 11:19-23).  All of a sudden the "status quo" had changed, and the ones "in power" were not so happy about it.
            What we fail to understand is the great divide between Jew and Gentile.  Gentiles were considered unclean and called "dogs."  Jews believed they were the favored race and that salvation could only come from them.  They went out of their way to avoid doing business with Gentiles, eating with them, or socializing with them.  Gentiles thought Jews were strange because of their belief in monotheism, and knowing their utter disdain for them, hated them in return.  We think the racial divide in our country was bad, this was many times worse.  When a Jew married a Gentile, the family held a funeral for him.  He was dead as far as they were concerned.
            But God had stated from the beginning, even as He was forming His chosen people from whom the Messiah would come, that this would be a blessing "to all nations" (Gen 22:18).  ("Goy" by the way is the Yiddish word for Gentile, and it means "nation.")  That promise continues throughout Genesis and is picked up by the prophets, more times than I can even list.  Isaiah said all nations would flow into "the mountain of the Lord's house" (2:2).  Micah repeats part of this prophecy almost verbatim (4:1-3).  Isaiah also promises that all those who had formerly been considered unclean will be accepted into Jehovah's house, for my house shall be a house of prayer for all peoples (50:1-8).
            Jesus gave hints of this unification during his ministry, clear enough that the Pharisees once remarked, God forbid! (Luke 20:16).  And before he left this world his instructions clearly underlined God's original intent, Go into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature, Mark 16:15.
            God expects all of us, whatever nation, whatever race, to meet together as one body.  I would hate to be one of those in the past who forbade a certain race to come into the assembly of the saints.  What do we think?  That God will have a "Jews only" or "whites only" section roped off in Heaven?  When we sing with our children, "Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight," we should have a congregation that shows them exactly that—all nations accepted into the house of God.  This acceptance goes both ways—not just one side to the other, each one of us acting with perfect love and humility.  None of us is any better than the other in the sight of our Creator—who made us all.
 
And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd (John 10:16).
 
Dene Ward
 

I imagine everyone has, by the time they reach my age, had some sort of physical therapy.  Sometimes it is needed after an injury, sometimes after surgery, sometimes because of a physical condition or illness.  If you have had a good experience with physical therapy, you know that it hurts, but that the hurt eventually reduces the pain.  If you have ever done any sort of strength training, that should make sense to you.  After a work-out your muscles might be sore, but soon you can do more with less soreness.  In order to strengthen a muscle, you simply must cause it some stress.  If I refuse physical therapy because "it hurts," sooner or later I won't be able to move at all.
            I keep doing the physical therapy exercises I was given 20 years ago.  That is why I can still walk.  Anyone who has had severe back pain knows that it effects every single part of your life.  No one moves anything, except maybe their pinkie finger, without aid from the back one way or the other.  When we first moved to Tampa, things were so unsettled with unpacking, finding new doctors, and having men in the house renovating practically every inch of it, that I did not do my exercises for about 6 months.  And my back knew it.  It took a couple of months to get things back in order.  And whenever I have even missed a couple of days due to traveling or illness, that little twinge in my lower back tells me it's time to get back to work! 
            I do one exercise that stretches out my back in a particularly strong way.  I feel the pull when I lean over.  It hurts, but I have grown to think of it as a "good" hurt because when I sit up straight afterward, the "real" pain is gone.  Keith has a spot just under his left shoulder blade that hurts due to a bullet wound.  When I feel around in there, I can feel the knot.  When I rub it he usually winces and grunts a few times, but afterward, he always says, "That's so much better."  I am sure you get the point by now.
            May I suggest that the same is true of "spiritual therapy?"  Studying to better oneself often hurts as we begin to see faults we have ignored.  Sometimes it hurts so much that we just blind ourselves to what we see.  James describes something similar:  But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing (Jas 1:22-25).
            And then there are the "wounds" that a brother can inflict with rebukes, reproaches, or sometimes just an exhortation.  No matter how carefully he words it, it will not be any fun to listen to, any more than physical therapy is fun.  Yet, a real friend often knows best what we need to hear at the moment, and if his friendship is true, he will rub those sore spots until they grow better. Faithful are the wounds of a friend; But the kisses of an enemy are profuse (Prov 27:6).   Too often we prefer the flattery, and our souls will suffer even greater pain if we give in to that preference.
            So give yourself some spiritual therapy today.  You will feel all the better for it, and be in better spiritual shape too.
 
Let a righteous man strike me—it is a kindness; let him rebuke me—it is oil for my head; let my head not refuse it… (Ps 141:5).
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.
 
John 3:22-24  "After this, Jesus and his disciples went into the Judean countryside. He spent some time there with them and began baptizing.  John was also baptizing in Aenon, near Salim, because there was plenty of water there. People kept coming and were being baptized, since John had not yet been thrown into prison."
         After His interview with Nicodemus, Jesus took His disciples and went out into the Judean countryside to preach the good news.  John was also preaching, at Aenon.  Most modern maps try to place this, but all indicate that they aren't sure exactly where it was.  The only consensus seems to be that it was NOT in Judea.  So, John and Jesus were not together when they taught.
 
John 3:25-26  "Now a discussion arose between some of John's disciples and a Jew over purification.  And they came to John and said to him, 'Rabbi, he who was with you across the Jordan, to whom you bore witness—look, he is baptizing, and all are going to him.'"
         At first glance it seems odd that John never tells us exactly what the dispute was and how or why it so affected the Baptizer's disciples.  Upon consideration, however, one wonders if it isn't very clear.  They argued about purification, or washing, and then complained to John that everyone was going after Jesus' baptism -- instead of John's.  The argument seems to have been about the relative worth of each baptism.  John's disciples were left shaken and upset; outraged for John and confused in themselves.  Everyone was following Jesus and John was being forgotten.

John 3:27-30  "John answered, “A person cannot receive even one thing unless it is given him from heaven.  You yourselves bear me witness, that I said, ‘I am not the Christ, but I have been sent before him.’  The one who has the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom's voice. Therefore this joy of mine is now complete.  He must increase, but I must decrease.” 
         John's response is a marvel of humility and faith in God.  In saying that we can't receive anything unless it is given from heaven, John is calming his disciples by reminding them that this is all according to God's plan.  He reminds them that he has said all along that someone greater was coming and now there is someone greater here.  This is not a cause for alarm, but rejoicing which leads to his next statement.  In this micro-parable John paints a familiar scene:  a wedding.  None of the groomsmen are jealous of the bride, instead they are just happy for the groom.  John was not the leading man in the drama of his life.  After his short role was over he wasn't even able to share the spotlight, but John was happy to play his role for the glory of another.  "He must increase, but I must decrease."  Surely this is self-sacrificing service.

         God's plan for us is not guaranteed to bring us fame and recognition here on earth.  Maybe the best way for us to serve is by helping to care for the ill and needy:  making phone calls, sending cards, preparing meals, doing chores for those who can't for themselves and just sitting and talking to those whose illnesses have left them shut in, alternately weeping or rejoicing with them.  None of this is as showy as preaching or leading the singing, but it is often more important and impactful in making our churches into familes. 

Matt. 11:11  "Truly, I say to you, among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist."
         Elijah and Elisha raised the dead, preached to kings, commanded the weather, and stopped armies cold.  Daniel saw visions of centuries of future history and the coming kingdom.  Isaiah saw God on His throne and His Messiah coming.  Great as all these men were, as showy as their service was, none were greater than John, who in his humble service proclaimed the Lord's message and then quietly stepped out of the spotlight. 
         Am I willing to submerge my life -- my plans, dreams, hopes -- into quiet, unnoticed service to God?  Are you?
 
John 3:31  "He who comes from above is above all."
 
Lucas Ward

     I have been in waiting rooms a lot lately.  When you have a rare condition, you tend to be there more often and when your doctor treats only the difficult cases, the wait is longer—the corporation tends to schedule appointments much more closely than he can possibly keep up with in a timely manner—in this case, every 10 minutes.  So I regularly sit two to three hours before I even see the man, but when I finally do, he is friendly, good-natured, but serious about my problem and gives me all the attention he thinks I require, which has been up to an hour.  So he gets even more behind because of me.
     I was in that waiting room recently, along with about two dozen others.  It tends to get more and more crowded as the day wears on and the doctors lag more and more behind.  Across the room a young child, maybe 3, was obviously tired of waiting.  He was out of his chair, whining, and stamping around on his little red sneaker clad feet.  His father sat on one side and his mother on the other.  Each parent was busy with a phone.  In fact, the mother also had her laptop open.  All they did was hiss at him to be quiet and sit still and immediately return to their devices.  He was three years old!  He had been sitting fairly still for at least 20 minutes!  What did they expect?
     Parents!  Please put your phones away.  Do it right now just to prove that you can!  But more than that, put it down and pay attention to what is going on with your children.  I have no doubt you will have plenty of time to look at the thing sometime during the day, but being a parent to your children is the most important part of your day, not being a parent to your phone.  That is exactly how it looks sometimes—like the phone needs more care than the child.
     I am not unsympathetic.  My poor boys have sat with me for hours in waiting rooms because grandparents lived hundreds of miles away and we could not afford babysitters and food for them and eye medicine for me.  I did not expect them to sit absolutely still and quiet.  We took bags of Matchbox cars, books, and favorite stuffed animals.  Occasionally we all played together, but usually they did fine with each other.  I also had a couple of non-messy snacks for them, and bottles of water or juice.  When time became long, I told the receptionist I would be in the parking lot should they call me, and we went out to walk around and explore so they could get some fresh air and enough exercise to kill the antsy-ness.  The people in the office were always understanding and complimented them when finally we left.   Most of the time, all your children want is a little attention.  They want to know they matter to you. And then they can be happy by themselves a little while longer.
     I walk past mothers in the supermarket who are looking at their phones, or even talking on them.  A few times the child in the seat of the cart was about to stand up and reach for something and mom had no idea until I pointed.  Once, I was ready to make a mad dash to catch a falling child even if the mother was far closer than I was.  Put down your phone.  If it's someone who really matters, who is truly a friend, they will understand.  Talk to your children.  Listen to your children. 
      I have about had it with moms and their "me time."  When you decided to take on the privilege of raising a soul to God, you sacrificed a lot of things, including regular "me time."  Please don't resent it, don't resent the children who are causing it.  In a few very short years they will be gone, and what will they remember of their childhood and their parents?  Watching them look at their phone all the time?  Trying to ask a question only to be met with, "Shhhh," over and over?  Needing a hug and getting a glare instead?
     Think of it this way:  you are learning to be the servant God wants you to be.  Suddenly, you won't be spending an hour putting on make-up when you go out.  You will find that instead of shopping for yourself, you are spending the available income shopping for children who outgrow clothes faster than ice cream melts in a Florida summer.  By the time those precious souls have left you, you will have grown into exactly the kind of servant God wants you to be, still serving others, even looking for ways to serve others, because you have finally grown up spiritually and understand the secret of true happiness—serving others, not self and certainly  not a phone.
     That won't happen if you look at your phone longer and more often than you focus on your child.  Nothing on that contraption is more important than they are. 

And he said unto them, Set your heart unto all the words which I testify unto you this day, which ye shall command your children to observe to do, even all the words of this law. For it is no vain thing for you; because it is your life…(Deuteronomy 32:46-47).

Dene Ward

I was "raised in the church" as we are wont to say.  It may not be a completely accurate way of expressing it, but we all know what it means.  My parents were Christians and I have been in a meetinghouse with the saints since I was old enough to be carried there.  I grew up going to Bible classes and memorized all the lists—the books of the Bible, the apostles, the judges, the sons of Jacob, etc.  And I grew up hearing various proof texts so often I could recite them to friends at school.  I will not demean any of that because, frankly, I wonder if I would have ever heard the Gospel any other way in our culture.  In fact, I know others who heard it the same way I did, but who left it as soon as they were adults.  That should tell us something—there is more to it than hearing it all of your life.  You have to see it every day in the ones who teach you and I certainly did.
            As I have grown older and more versed in the Scriptures, especially the context of passages I have always used completely out of context, I have come to a deeper understanding of things.  Some of those things might cause others to squint their eyes in consternation or even be ready to denounce my being a "true" Christian.  But really, if they would seek the context of who and what I am after all these years, surely they would be more charitable—or maybe not.  That is one thing I have realized over the years—we are not only uncharitable to people, we sometimes go out looking for things to be uncharitable about.  We are ready for a fight with anyone, even those who do not wish to participate in one.
            Remember this passage?  For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, says Jehovah (Isa 55:8).  Of course you do.  Like me, you have probably used it to counter any and everyone who does not agree with us on any and every issue.  That is not what that passage is talking about.  Look at the immediate context.  My ESV uses the heading "The Compassion of the Lord" at the beginning of Isaiah 55.  Of course it is Messianic and is talking about the kingdom to come, which will no longer be Jewish only, but will contain peoples of all nations.  "Nations" is what the Jews called Gentiles, just as "goy" is the Yiddish word for Gentile and literally means "nations."  Verse 5 begins ​ Behold, you shall call a nation that you do not know, and a nation that did not know you shall run to you, because of the LORD your God, and of the Holy One of Israel… (Isa 55:5).  And in that context we have this:  Seek the LORD while he may be found; call upon him while he is near; let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the LORD, that he may have compassion on him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD. ​For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts (Isa 55:6-9).  The higher thoughts God has are thoughts of mercy and forgiveness.  Ours are so often judgmental, even damning, instead.
            Before anyone jumps in, I do realize that this context also includes repentance (verse 7), but I have seen us set ourselves up as judge of whether even that is sincere or not.  We go on and on about whether a deathbed confession will work, about whether someone who has failed more than once in the same way truly means it "this time."  I passed on the good news of an apology once only to have it snorted at because "she didn't really mean it" when the "snorter" wasn't even there to hear it.  Unlike our Father, who is anxious and ready to forgive, who looks down the road hoping to see his lost child return, we are all too ready to chuck anything that doesn't meet our own specifications as a confession, a repentance, or an apology.
            I was taught all my life that it was wrong to think God could ever save anyone who was a sinner.  Why it took me decades to figure out that if such were the case it would mean not a single one of us, not even those of us who think we are doing fairly well, could be saved either, I am not sure.  Not a single Bible hero, as we call them, was without sin.  Some were pretty awful, in fact.  But because God is the one who decides these things, and His thoughts are higher than ours, we find that they are among the saved, the forgiven.  Look at the sermons in Acts.  Look at Hebrews 11 and Romans 4 and so many other places where those people are used as examples we should follow.
            And because of that, I am willing to pray for mercy toward those many would tell me I have no right to pray for.  If I am to have thoughts like my Father's shouldn't I do that?  Or will we continue to be so far beneath His thought processes that we pray for judgment instead?  Perhaps that is why so many of us think we have no chance at salvation unless we see death coming and can shoot off a fast prayer for forgiveness.  But even that proves we understand the point—God forgives when man so often does not.  Shouldn't we, as children of God, be better than that?
 
Remember your mercy, O LORD, and your steadfast love, for they have been from of old. Remember not the sins of my youth or my transgressions; according to your steadfast love remember me, for the sake of your goodness, O LORD! (Ps 25:6-7).
 
Dene Ward
 

I sat with my hands in my lap, listening to the announcements.  When it came time for prayer, instantly two hands reached for mine and held them until the amens echoed around the building.

The hand on my right was my husband’s.  After spending fifty years together, it seemed only natural.  We are always touching, patting, and hugging.  To walk past one another without some sort of physical contact is unthinkable.  What has made this relationship even more remarkable though, is the spiritual sharing and touching.  When two people pray for the same things, hope for the same things, and endure the same things with the help of the same Comforter, two people who were so unalike in the beginning that several people tried to talk us out of this marriage, the closeness can only be with the help of the Divine Creator who united us in far more than holy matrimony.

The other hand came from a friend, someone I have known for several years now, who has supported me in every way imaginable, who has stood by me and has lifted my name up in prayer, who has shared her own trials with me and allowed me to help her as well, someone who lives nearly fifty miles from me, whom I would never have known except that we share the same Savior and the same hope and a place in the same spiritual family.

Some people view holding hands in prayer as nothing more than an outward show of emotionalism.  To me those hands signify the unifying power of the grace of God.  That unity began with 12 men who would never have come together in any other way, and soon spread to add one more.  Some were urbane city dwellers who looked down on lowly Galileans.  Some were working class men while another was a highly educated Pharisee.  Some had Hebrew/Aramaic names while others’ names bore the influence of Hellenism.  One was a Zealot and another his political enemy, a tax collector.  Yet the Lord brought them all together in a unity that conquered the world.

I have held black hands, brown hands and white hands.  I have held plump soft hands and rough calloused hands.  I have held the tender hands of the young and the withered hands of the old.  I have held the hands of lawyers and doctors and plumbers and farmers, teachers and nurses and secretaries and homemakers, hands that hammer nails and hands that type on computer keyboards, hands that cook and sew and even hands that carry a weapon on the job.  We all have this in common—our Lord saved us when none of us deserved it.  That is His unifying power. 

The hand of God is the one that makes all of our hands worth holding.

May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God. Romans 15:5-7

Dene Ward

Despite my trekking poles, I still have an occasional stumble as I walk Chloe around the property in the mornings.  Trees have a way of shedding limbs, especially in a brisk spring breeze, of pelting the ground with pine cones that roll beneath the feet, and showering the ground with slick leaves and needles.  All of those things hide holes and depressions that can turn an ankle.  I haven’t fallen in awhile, thanks to these sturdy fiberglass poles, but it’s still a little dangerous out there for someone with limited vision.
            Most of those trees are ancient by human standards.  After watching a live oak we planted grow from a one foot “stick” to a fifteen foot sapling in 20 years, I know the ones that spread over our house, so large it would take four people to hold hands around them, must be closing in on the century mark.  The wonderful thing about those trees, especially in this climate, is the shade.  With limbs stretching out thirty to forty feet, and dense foliage, the temperature beneath them can be ten to fifteen degrees cooler than in the sun. 
            Trees, then, can be either a source of comfort or a hindrance.  On occasion, a tree has deposited a limb right in the middle of our driveway, and there are few places along its length where you can drive out of the road around a blockage.  The older the trees, in fact, the bigger the problem they can cause.  We pray constantly, especially in hurricane season, that one of those thousand pound limbs will not fall on the house.
            As I become older, I realize the same is true of me.  The aged can be a source of strength, wisdom, and encouragement.  God surely intended that to be the case.  Wisdom is with the aged, and understanding in length of days, Job 12:12.  Unfortunately we can also be a source of discouragement and a hindrance to spiritual life.  Instead of gaining wisdom, some of us store up hurts and slights, many of them magnified through the years or even imagined.  Instead of learning the lessons of life, we become bitter.  Instead of maturing and reaching out to others, we continue, as we so often did when young, to demand attention.
            On this rural property we have learned through the years which trees are most helpful and which are most damaging.  I step over far more pine limbs than oak, but even among those stately hardwoods are some we have learned to be wary of.  A water oak will drop branches on your house or your car or your power lines, will in fact, be as likely as a pine tree to completely fall over. 
            It may not seem fair, but if you are a young person looking for a mentor, you must, as Jesus said, judge people by their fruits.  If you find yourself hearing nothing but the negative, you are taking shelter under the wrong tree. 
            If you, like me, are heading toward that label “elderly,” you need to think about the shelter you offer the young.  I will be judged by “every idle word.”  Certainly around the young and impressionable, around those who may look to me for wisdom and advice, I must be careful not to cause them to stumble in their confidence by casting off branches of discouragement.  I must not block their pathway to spiritual growth with selfish resentment about the past.  I certainly must not squash their zeal with cynicism about either the world or their brethren.  If ever there is a time when our choice of words is crucial, it is old age, when the young look to us for advice and help.
            We cannot help becoming old.  But we can all determine how we will act as one of those older “trees.”  What did Jesus say about branches that were unfruitful?  Do we really think he will do less to us if we fail in our purpose as the older, wiser branches of his spiritual family tree?
 
O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come. Psalms 71:17-18.
 
Dene Ward

We hadn’t driven that road in years, a narrow county road I used to jog down every morning.  At that time one end was so well wooded that more than once during hunting season I heard bullets whizzing across the road behind me when I jogged.  I learned to sing loudly while I ran. 
            The morning of our drive the sunlight came in exactly as it had all those years ago, slanting rays peeking through the trees from the east, clear and bright where they hit the road, a crisp fall morning, the humidity of summer left behind.  Then we came upon them, house after house, places where we had known the people who had lived there, one after the other along the west side of the road, then the south as the road made a ninety degree bend to the left.  We named the people as we rode by, and when we finished we looked at one another and realized that every one of them was dead.
            Yet there the houses still stood, some with new families, but most empty, houses those people had built themselves, nice homes mine could fit in twice over, carefully landscaped property, barns, sheds, pools, and other outbuildings—empty.  I thought of the Preacher’s words: I made great works. I built houses and planted vineyards for myself. I made myself gardens and parks, and planted in them all kinds of fruit trees. I made myself pools from which to water the forest of growing trees… Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had expended in doing it, and behold, all was vanity and a striving after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun, Eccl 2:4-6,11. 
            If ever there was a time I understood Ecclesiastes, it was that morning.  All these things people spend their money on, all these things they think will make them happy, none of them really matter because sooner or later you die and leave them behind.
            So I hated life, because what is done under the sun was grievous to me, for all is vanity and a striving after wind. I hated all my toil in which I toil under the sun, seeing that I must leave it to the man who will come after me, and who knows whether he will be wise or a fool? Yet he will be master of all for which I toiled and used my wisdom under the sun. This also is vanity. So I turned about and gave my heart up to despair over all the toil of my labors under the sun, because sometimes a person who has toiled with wisdom and knowledge and skill must leave everything to be enjoyed by someone who did not toil for it. This also is vanity and a great evil, Eccl 2:17-21.
            Maybe, though, the writer overreacted a bit.  Why hate your life?  Why not just change it?  When you learn that you control your happiness, that happiness does not lie in circumstances but within yourself, then you change the emphasis of all you do.  Why not spend your time making other people’s lives better?  Why not spread the good news in whatever way you are still able?  Why leave only an empty house behind when you can leave something far more lasting—an example, words of comfort and encouragement, the Word of God taught in whatever way possible to any and all who will pay attention?  But of course, the Preacher does reach this conclusion as you read on in Ecclesiastes:  Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole of man, Eccl 12:13.
            After you are gone, what will people say when they drive past what used to be yours?  Will they merely say, “That’s where so-and-so used to live?”  Or will they say, “Remember that brother and sister?  They were such good people.”  How are you spending the time God has given you?  What will you leave behind?  How much better to leave the memories of a life full of joy and service than an empty building no one will care about anyway.
 
And he told them a parable, saying, "The land of a rich man produced plentifully, and he thought to himself, 'What shall I do, for I have nowhere to store my crops?' And he said, 'I will do this: I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.' But God said to him, 'Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?' So is the one who lays up treasure for himself and is not rich toward God." Luke 12:16-21
 
Dene Ward

I don’t remember exactly when it was, but I remember the light bulb that went off in my head.  I have taught women’s Bible studies for well over forty years now.  We never have the hen parties or gossip fests that many are accused of.  We study. We learn.  We grow.  I am so proud of my women I could burst.
            One of the biggest blessings of sitting in a good women’s class is finding out that many marriages are like yours, and so are many husbands, at least in some ways.  That is the light bulb moment I spoke of. 
            We were studying Hannah and shaking our heads at Elkanah, who was the typical oblivious man.  Despite the fact that the scriptures call Hannah and Peninnah “rivals,” the same word used in Num 10:9, “when you go to war against an enemy,” he either didn’t notice the obvious tension in the household or he thought it trivial. 
            “Why are you so upset?” he asked Hannah.  “Aren’t I better to you than ten sons?”  That was supposed to not only assuage a bitter conflict in his home, but overcome a cultural stigma that weighed on Hannah every hour of every day.  Really?
            My first inclination was to call him an egomaniac (“aren’t I better…?”), then unfeeling, or at best clueless.  But another woman pointed out that he obviously loved Hannah.  Look at the special way he treated her, and the point he made of doing it before others when the family offered sacrifices at the tabernacle.  A real jerk wouldn’t have done that.  He was simply being a man.
            So, over the years, we have learned to point out “man things.”  We say to our younger women, “He didn’t mean anything by it, honey.  It’s a man thing.”  The point isn’t that men do not necessarily need to learn to do better, but that women need to stop judging them unfairly, as if every time they do one of those things, they are deliberately setting out to hurt them.  Nonsense!  They have no idea they are hurting you.  They love you and if they did think it might hurt you, they wouldn’t do it.  That little bit of wisdom has brought a lot of us through some tricky moments in our marriages.
            Unfortunately, we do that to one another in the church too.  It can’t be that nothing was meant about us specifically when a comment was made—it simply must have been meant as an insult or a hurtful barb.  It escapes us that we are talking about people who love one another, and even though we are supposed to be loving them too, we automatically assume the worst.  It is the worst kind of egotism to imagine that every time anyone speaks or acts they have me in mind.
            I tried to look this attitude up in a topical Bible and do you know where I found it?  Under “uncharitable” and “judgmental.”  Isaiah talks about people “who by a word make a man out to be an offender” (29:20,21).  Isn’t that what we are doing when we behave in such a paranoid fashion?  It isn’t anything new.  People have been making false judgments, jumping to the worst conclusions possible, for as long as there have been people.
            What did the Israelites say to Moses?  “You brought us out here to die” (Ex 14:11,12).  Really?  He certainly put himself to a lot of unnecessary grief if that was his purpose.  He could have just left them in Egypt and they certainly would have died as oppressed slaves.
            Eli watched Hannah pray at the tabernacle where she and her family had come to worship and accused her of being drunk (1 Sam 1:14-17).   Talk about being uncharitable.
            Actions like those do not come from a heart of love.  Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, 1 Cor 13:7, which means I put the best construction on every word or action of another, not the worst.  It means I am concerned about how I treat them in my judgment of them, rather than being concerned with how they are treating me.  If I am not careful, I may be the one with the ulterior motives.
 
Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all offenses, Prov 10:12.
           
Dene Ward
 

I wonder if we realize how many times we aid and abet the enemy of the cross?  Usually we are too wrapped up in ourselves to comprehend the perceptions of others and the effects on them.  Our American “rights” tell us we can do and say as we please and it’s no one else’s business.  When you become a Christian, you give up those rights.  The rights of others always supersede yours.
            How do people perceive you in a crisis?  Are you the one who stays calm?  The one whose language never slips?  The one who refuses to fall into a pit of despair?  What happens when you are caught in a mistake?  Do you lie about what happened?  Do you blame others, or do you calmly assume responsibility, offer an apology, and work hard to rectify the mistake?  When you see a person in need, do you step in and offer help?  Do you treat others well, regardless how they treat you?  Do you give to all, not just your friends?  How do you handle disagreements or insults?  A Christian never bases his behavior on how others have treated him, but upon what is right and what is wrong.  “But he made me mad,” means someone else is controlling you, and Christians always practice self-control.
            If you have ever claimed to be a Christian, these things can very well effect whether anyone will ever listen to you again, or even whether anyone else from the church will ever reach those people.  Too many times I have talked to people only to have them tell me about “someone from your church who…”  Our behavior may have successfully aided the Devil in capturing one more soul.
            Sometimes when we think we are doing the Lord’s work, we are really aiding the enemy.  When you talk to people about the church and the gospel, how do you go about it?  It may be extremely uncomfortable, but also eminently practical, to ask others how you are perceived when you teach, when you preach, or just in casual conversation.  Do you notice how many times you use the word “I?”  Do you know whether you tend to be loud or sound bossy?  Does your manner reek of arrogance or sarcasm?  Do you go on far too long, drowning important soul-saving concepts in a sea of words?  When you talk to folks who aren’t Christians (sometimes even when they are), you can’t count on them to be spiritual enough to endure the off-putting habits you might have.  Am I too proud to learn to do better?  If so, I have just aided and abetted the Enemy of the cross of Christ by refusing to “become all things to all men.”
            Most people who try to edify others and save the lost are good-hearted individuals who have no idea they come across in these ways.  They would never knowingly aid and abet the enemy of our Savior.  But that enemy is smart—he will use our weaknesses to his own advantage.  Nothing is said or done in a vacuum.  If you aren’t helping the cause of the Lord, you are hurting it, and it can happen even when you think you are doing His will, just by failing to notice what is going on or refusing to listen to those who might have some pretty good advice about how to better go about it.  Don’t commit treason against the Lord.
 
To the weak I became weak, that I might gain the weak: I am become all things to all men, that I may by all means save some. And I do all things for the gospel's sake, that I may be a joint partaker thereof. 1 Cor 9:22-23
           
Dene Ward