Once there were two young brothers.  The older was a young teenager, and the younger an early middle schooler.  Not long before, they had been playmates, but the older brother had that usual growth spurt that boys do and suddenly he was a foot taller and his voice an octave lower than his little brother's.  Even his thinking had begun to change so that when he led a prayer, he prayed part as a little boy with little boy wishes and part as a young man in whom was dawning the greater complexities and spirituality of life.
            One day when their grandmother was visiting, they decided to "play golf," which turned out to be their own made-up game with made-up rules because, let's face it, you can't hit a long, hard drive in your backyard without endangering your neighbor's abode.  Grandma was the scorekeeper, and she wondered how this would work at all with big brother suddenly so much bigger, stronger, and more adept as a budding young golfer.  It worked just fine.
            Whenever little brother hit it "in the rough," big brother told him, "Go ahead and toss it out into the short grass.  We won't count that stroke."  And so little brother, while remaining behind in the scoring, was not so far behind that it discouraged him.  Then big brother made a few excellent shots and found himself five or six points ahead (which is actually lower, you know) than his little brother.  Suddenly, big brother was not playing quite as carefully, though not very noticeably so, and little brother caught up and made it a tie.  The game went into "Sudden Death," as the brothers called it.  Eventually, big brother won by 1.  He was satisfied with his win and little brother was more than pleased with his showing and not a bit disappointed.  After all, he had expected to lose to someone bigger, stronger, and more adept at golf.
            But he never really noticed what his brother had done for him, and big brother kept it that way.  No rubbing little brother's nose in his inability.  No bragging about how much better he was.  No taking this great opportunity to rout the weaker brother and enjoy stomping him in the dust.  Just a quiet, humble way of serving his brother that encouraged and motivated him to try even harder.
            And I am one proud Grandma.
 
We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to build him up. For Christ did not please himself, but as it is written, “The reproaches of those who reproached you fell on me” Rom 15:1-3).
 
Dene Ward

I suppose it has not escaped your notice that I do not write what I call, “Feel Good Fluff.”  I do my best writing when I am scolding myself, and unfortunately, that means you get scolded too.
            I am more concerned with becoming a better person than with feeling good.  Maybe that is because I seldom feel good physically any more, so I am not wedded to the idea that I must always be pumped up spiritually in order to become a more spiritual person. 
            I have written a few things that I hope have encouraged you.  I have written a few things that have made some of you cry, good tears, not bad ones.  However, a friend told me once, “I want something that challenges me,” and I found myself agreeing with her, and that is what I have tried to do more than anything else.  If I keep saying that you are just fine the way you are, will you even bother to try to improve yourself? 
            As a result, I have lost readers.  It makes me think of Ahab who described the prophet Micaiah this way, “I hate him because he does not prophesy good concerning me, but evil,” 1 Kgs 22:8, and who once greeted Elijah, “Is it you, you troubler of Israel?”  18:17. Too many folks ignore the fact that they are causing their own problems.  Like Israel of old they want preachers who say, “Peace, peace, when there is no peace,” Jer 6:14.  Like the Galatians’ behavior toward Paul, they make those who simply want to help them wonder, “Have I therefore become your enemy because I tell you the truth?” Gal 4:16.
            Pats on the back are good.  They serve a purpose.  A sermon that makes you shed a tear for the sacrifice that saved you is a helpful thing.  It might just sustain you through a temptation that comes your way soon after.  I think that is one reason we remember that sacrifice every week. 
            But emotion fades.  That pumped-up feeling can deflate quickly when the realities of life puncture your balloon.  You must often sustain yourself with the knowledge that comes from the hard, and often tedious, work of Bible study.  You must have the word of God saturating your mind so much that it bubbles up and out of you just when you need it most.  You must have prayed often enough that a quick one automatically comes to your lips in difficult circumstances.  You must believe because you know logically and with sound evidence that these things are true, not because someone sent you a piece of feel good fluff that won’t stand up to an argument by a knowledgeable minister of Satan.
            Most of all, you must be willing to listen to those who love you and care about your eternal destiny, whether you want to hear what they say or not—and, in fact, whether they have your good will at heart or not.  God has often used the wicked to send his message.
            Don’t be afraid to be challenged.  Don’t be afraid to examine yourself for your faults.  It will work wonders for your soul.
 
Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in the spirit of meekness; considering yourself, lest you also be tempted. Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. Gal 6:1,2.
 
Dene Ward

On May 10, 1736, Charity Hospital opened in New Orleans.  Jean Louis, a French sailor and shipbuilder, left all his savings, which in that day amounted to about $1600, to build a hospital for the poor and uninsured people of New Orleans.  Located in the French Quarter, other hospitals were added to the conglomerate until by 1939 it was the second largest in the country with 2680 beds.  It was also one of the longest continuously operating hospitals in the United States until it was hit by Hurricane Katrina in 2005. 
            And in case you didn't know, there were no hospitals at all in the entire world until the advent of the Christian Era.  In the last part of the fourth century, Basil of Caesarea founded the first hospital, a Christian hospital.  Monastic orders added hospitals to their monasteries in the fifth and sixth centuries.  Missionaries went on to found the first hospitals in China and Japan in the 1800s.  It was not until the eighteenth century that hospitals began to be secularized.  Say what you will, Christianity brought many good things to a world that was focused on the survival and good of self.  Suddenly, someone else cared about you, even if you were poor or sick.  Try that in a pagan society.
            It has often been said that the church is a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints.  I am not sure we believe that.  I have seen too many unwelcoming saints in my lifetime, those who would limit where they even offer the gospel at all—we want nice, middle class, nuclear families with no big problems.  "They would really help our contribution," I have also heard people comment about certain visitors.  If that isn't a mercenary motive for spreading the gospel, I don't know the meaning of the word.  But what did Jesus say to the people of his own era with the same attitudes?  …Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners (Mark 2:17).
            And then we have our own problems that need some spiritual hospitalization, the ones we don't want to admit.  Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed… (Jas 5:16).  Have you ever attended an assembly that actually does this?  Not unless someone "goes forward," you haven't.  And why?  We're too proud for one thing, and we are also too scared—someone might run with our confession and use it against us.  "Did you know that so-and-so has this problem?"  And so we do not get the benefit of this humbling and also encouraging command—humbling to have to admit you are not perfect, and encouraging to see that others have the same issues and learn how they deal with them. 
            A spiritual hospital is for the sinner, the spiritually sick, the one who has to fight sin and temptation the way others fight infection and disease.  And as long as we refuse to admit it, we will never get the medicine we need, for we are indeed the needy.
 
Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance (Luke 15:7).                         
 
Dene Ward

On January 3, 1521, Martin Luther was excommunicated from the Catholic Church and declared an outlaw who could be killed with impunity.  On May 4 of that same year, several men pretended to be robbers, and took him to the Wartburg Castle in Eisenach, Germany, where he stayed "hidden" as a man named Georg Junker.  While there, he translated the New Testament into German.  His translation, which has been lauded by scholars ever since, brought joy to the German people because the Bible had finally been taken out of the Roman Catholic pulpit and placed in their hands.  His work even led to the standardization of the German language according to Atlas Obscura.
            But Luther did one thing in that translation that left him open to much criticism.  He took Romans 3:28 and added the word "only."  We reckon therefore that a man is justified by faith [only] apart from the works of the law (Rom 3:28).  Not only did he add to the Word of God, he made it contradict itself!  You see then how that by works a man is justified, and not by faith only (Jas 2:24).  In a very real way, he disrespected the Word of God.
            Most of us would immediately run to the book of Revelation and quote, I warn everyone who hears the words of the prophecy of this book: if anyone adds to them, God will add to him the plagues described in this book, and if anyone takes away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God will take away his share in the tree of life and in the holy city, which are described in this book (Rev 22:18-19).  But we need to be careful about that as well.  Those verses, in context and as John plainly says, apply to the book of Revelation.  You don't pull a verse out willy-nilly and quote it just to win an argument.  That's not a whole lot different than Luther's actions.  But the concept of presumptuous sin—and it is certainly presumptuous to think one can improve God's Word--and of false teaching runs all through the scriptures.   But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed. As we have said before, so now I say again: If anyone is preaching to you a gospel contrary to the one you received, let him be accursed (Gal 1:8-9).
            I am sure you have heard, if not an urban legend, what might very well be a church legend in similar vein—the one about the woman who told a preacher that Acts 2:38 was not in her Bible, and when he looked, sure enough, it was not.  She had taken her scissors and cut it out.  I often wondered if she had somewhere pasted something in as well.  If you can do one, you can do the other.  But we really don't even have to grab the scissors or the paste.  All we have to do is ignore what is written and do things our own way to the same effect.  Although I am sure Luther, were he alive today, would object, he wouldn't have a leg to stand on.
 
And we also thank God constantly for this, that when you received the word of God, which you heard from us, you accepted it not as the word of men but as what it really is, the word of God, which is at work in you believers (1Thess 2:13).                                             

Dene Ward

I'm sure you saw it on Facebook too:  someone issued Florida a participation trophy for participating in winter this year.  Especially up here in the north part of the state, we had several hard freezes, sleet, snow flurries, and ice on the roads.  At least we know we will have a blueberry crop this year.  Our type of blueberries require a certain amount of cold and the past two winters have been too warm for our plants to produce enough berries for one muffin!
            But I know this:  anyone who has not lived in the Midwest or Northeast still does not understand real winter.  We lived 100 miles south of Chicago for two years.  That experience was far more than two or three weeks of lows in the 20s and highs in the 40s.  Someone in Maine would probably consider that a heat wave.  A few cold weeks down here is nothing compared to several months of even colder weather up there.
            We have had the same experience trying to explain the heat down here.  When people further north see highs in the 90s they say, "Well, we get that hot, too."  Here is one difference: we have it day in and day out for a full five months with no let up.  Here is another:  we have humidity to match it; and a third:   the sun exposure, being much more direct, will sap the strength right out of you. 
            We tried to tell some people that once, and they just laughed.  Then they came to visit for a week.  It was only mid-June, so it wasn't really all that bad yet.  One morning the visiting lady went outside with me to help hang up clothes, oh, around 9 am.  We hadn't been outside more than five minutes before she suddenly gave a soft little "whew!"  I looked over.  She was red-faced and pouring sweat.  "It's sort of like a steam bath out here, isn't it?"  she said, panting a little.  She could hardly endure a week of it.  And it was constant.  Once the summer sets in, there is no fluctuation.  A heat wave?  Ours lasts from May till October.  Being here a week in June still does not earn you a participation trophy in a Florida summer.
            So I have learned over the years to listen to others and to realize that unless I have had their exact experience, I really do not know what they are dealing with.  I have learned to withhold judgment until I gather more information.  I have learned to offer more sympathy and less castigation, and I never say, "I know how you feel," when I don't.
            I have been watching and listening to all these accusations of sexual harassment lately.  Nothing quite gets my hackles up like someone saying, "So why did she wait so long to tell?" as if her delay makes her story unbelievable.  Especially when it comes from someone without a participation trophy, and especially when it comes from a man.
            I will tell you exactly why she kept quiet.  Not just embarrassment, but total mortification.  And the more chaste a woman is, the less likely she will say anything.  If she has been raised as a Christian, to keep herself pure and to assume the best of others, her first thought will be, "What did I do wrong?" even when she did absolutely nothing.  She won't want to cause any trouble or bring attention to herself.  She won't want to embarrass her family.  She won't want to hold herself up to all the probing eyes and thoughts of people who will assume the worst about her and dare to bring up what she considers unspeakable suspicions.  Even if she is perfectly innocent.  And if the harasser is older, a head taller and a hundred pounds heavier, or in authority over her, she will be too scared to speak.  If she needs the job, the class, the promotion, the grades, or whatever it is she might lose if she talks, she will keep quiet for years, even decades.
            So stop judging.  If you are a man, don't say a word.  You have no idea what it's like.  You don't have a participation trophy.
 
​Judge not, that you be not judged. ​For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. (Matt 7:1-2)
 
Check in again tomorrow for the answer to the question I know you want to ask.
Dene Ward

One especially cold day this past winter, I looked out the window and saw a brand new bird on the feeder.  A bit late for migrating, which often brings us new birds passing through, I pondered what this newcomer might be.  As if he knew I needed help, he flew toward the window and I got a closer look and a big surprise.  It was a plain old Carolina wren, of which we have many, thanks to their multiple nesting habit in the summer.  But this one was so puffed up, his head was nearly hidden by his chest, and he was twice his usual girth.
            Well, I thought to myself, you are, too, when you put on a big puffy coat to go outside in the cold.  And that is indeed what had happened.  The wren had puffed up his feathers to hold the heat closer to his small body.  Before long, I noticed equally puffy cardinals, titmice, and sparrows.  God gave them all waterproof feathers to shed the rain and insulate their bodies, and the ability to create air pockets around them to hold in their body heat by puffing out those feathers.  But still, if you are not aware of that, at first glance they look like completely different birds.
            And that happens to us as well.  When we become puffed up with pride, we act like completely different people.  Tell me you haven't seen a man you would have described as a good man, do something which seems completely out of character to protect his image, his status, his control over a situation.  We walked out of a congregational meeting one time and someone said to us, "I did not know that brother today.  He was not himself at all!"  Or maybe he was, and we just found out that day.
            I have applied all these things to myself and Apollos for your benefit, brothers, that you may learn by us not to go beyond what is written, that none of you may be puffed up in favor of one against another (1Cor 4:6).  Paul defines it for us:  when we think ourselves better than others in any sort of way, we are puffed up like all those little birds I saw that morning.
            Now some are puffed up, as though I were not coming to you. But I will come to you shortly, if the Lord will; and I will know, not the word of them that are puffed up, but the power (1Cor 4:18-19).  He says that pride can make us think we never need to be corrected.  The Corinthians with this problem were about to find out otherwise.  I would certainly hate to find out before it was too late.
            Let no man rob you of your prize by a voluntary humility and worshipping of the angels, dwelling in the things which he has seen, vainly puffed up by his fleshly mind (Col 2:18).  How ironic when Paul says that humility can cause pride—false humility, that is.  It may not be wrong to recognize that we have improved in our efforts to gain humility, but bragging about it certainly is.
            If any man teaches a different doctrine, and consents not to sound words, even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to the doctrine which is according to godliness; he is puffed up, knowing nothing, but doting about questionings and disputes of words, whereof come envy, strife, railings, evil surmisings (1Tim 6:3-4).  And here we have a false teacher who cannot be reasoned with because he thinks he knows more than you do.  The sad thing is, he knows nothing.
            We could go on with yet more passages, but perhaps these are enough to get the point across.  Pride can change you into someone you really should not want to be.  It can puff up you like a bird on a cold winter day, but no one will think it's cute.
 
Love suffers long, and is kind; love envies not; love vaunts not itself, is not puffed up (1Cor 13:4).
 
Dene Ward
 
 

As much time as I have spent in doctor's offices the past twenty years, I have learned a thing or two as we patients compare notes and experiences.  I have learned to trust my doctors simply because I had no choice.  Some of my conditions are so rare that I cannot even find them online to do any research to speak of, and that also means that few of us rare patients find ourselves in the same location at the same time—we are simply too scarce.  One scary thing I have learned is that doctors are not perfect, especially in the realm of the rare.  One just has to deal with it.  But so far, no one has made the wrong diagnosis, which in many cases could be catastrophic.  When you are treating the wrong ailment, the real one could be making advances that can never be undone.
            I thought of this while I was studying Mary and Martha recently.  I know, that probably leaves you scratching your head and saying, "What in the world…?"  What can I say?  My mind works in peculiar ways, especially when it is encumbered with impending medical tests, classes to be taught, and company coming all at the same time.
            So here are my crazy thoughts, in case you are interested.  Everyone, and by that I mean for the most part, anyone who stands in a pulpit and teaches that story in Luke 10, will diagnose Martha as "unspiritual."  I happened to be charting out the death of Lazarus in John 11 and was startled by what I believe the doctors might call "contraindications."  Look at the things she says to Jesus:
            Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you (John 11:21-22).  May I suggest that you go look at verse 32?  Mary said exactly the same thing—at least the first part.  The last part ("but even now…") was Martha's and Martha's only.  What did she have in mind?  A raising, perhaps?  After all, Jesus had raised two from the dead previously, the son of the widow of Nain and Jairus's daughter.  But then, this one was a bit different.  The others were either immediate or, per Jewish custom, on the same day as the death.  So maybe she wasn't quite sure, but I believe it must have crossed her mind.
            Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day (John 11:24).  This one shows her knowledge of scripture.  Even today many doubt that the Jews under the Old Law had any concept of life after death or Heaven.  How that is, I do not know.  Do you know the end of the Psalm 23?  And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.  Then we have this:  But as for me I know that my Redeemer lives, And at last he will stand up upon the earth: And after my skin, even this body, is destroyed, Then without my flesh shall I see God; Whom I, even I, shall see, on my side, And my eyes shall behold, and not as a stranger… (Job 19:25-27).  Martha obviously knew those verses, and that's not the half of it.
            She said to him, Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world (John 11:27).  What had Jesus been trying without much success to do for about three years at that point?  Prove he was the Messiah.  Martha got it, even when the most "religious" and "spiritual" among that generation did not.  I dare anyone to look at this conversation with her Lord and tell me seriously that she was not a spiritual person.
            Yes, Martha had a problem, but it was not what everyone says it was.  If you notice the first incident in Luke 10, Jesus did not rebuke her until she complained about her sister.  Then in the last incident recorded about this remarkable woman in John 12, what is she doing?  "…and Martha served…" John 12:2.  There she is again, doing exactly what she was doing in Luke 10 except for one thing—she was not complaining about her sister, who was once again at Jesus's feet, this time anointing both his head and his feet (check Matthew 26).  Martha had the same problem that a lot of strong spiritually-minded people have—she looked down on others who did not serve in the same way she did. 
            Paul takes on this attitude in the famous Romans 14 controversy and quashes both sides with this statement:  Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls…(Rom 14:4).  It wasn't Martha's business to decide what Mary needed to be doing.  It isn't my business to look across the building on Sunday morning and decide that since someone isn't doing the same sort of serving I am doing, then they are wrong and need to get up and help me.  For one thing, none of us really knows how much another is doing, and sometimes the things others do would have never crossed my mind to do.  We are all different people with different abilities and different offerings to make to the Lord.
            Let's not misdiagnose Martha.  She was indeed a spiritual woman.  She knew her scripture even though as a girl she would not have been sent to the synagogue schools beyond age 12, if that far.  (My sources vary on this.)  She learned it at home from her parents, at the synagogue on the Sabbath where the Scripture was read, and for those years she followed Jesus.  But Martha was impatient and, perhaps, judgmental.  With the Lord's help, she dealt with those things and seems to have conquered them for he did not rebuke her at the second occasion.  Do you suppose we could do the same?
 
There is only one lawgiver and judge, he who is able to save and to destroy. But who are you to judge your neighbor? Jas 4:12).
 
Dene Ward
 

The Lord has made everything for his own purpose, yes, even the wicked for the day of trouble, Prov 16:4.
            Think about that for awhile.  If I do not allow the Lord to use me for good, he will use me for evil instead.  I cannot refuse to be used; it’s one or the other.
            A long time ago I studied as many women in the Bible as I could find and tried to discover how they fit into the scheme of redemption.  I managed to find a use for every one of them.  Then I came to Jezebel and found myself stymied.  The only thing I could think was God used her to test his prophet Elijah, and to eventually send him back to his work in Israel with a renewed spirit. 
            I would hate to think that the only use God could find for me was as a thorn in the flesh of his righteous people, testing their faith.  So how do I avoid that?
            As in the case of Elijah, discouragement can hamper the work of God.  After what seemed like an amazing victory on Mt Carmel, Elijah awoke the next morning to find that Jezebel was still in charge and his life was still in danger.  Now Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had slain all the prophets with the sword.  Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah saying, So let the gods do to me, and more also if I make not your life as the life of one of them by tomorrow about this time.  And when Elijah saw this, he fled, 1 Kings 19:1-3.  What a let-down that must have been.  If that great victory had not changed things, what could?
            So Elijah ran away to the wilderness where he rested, where an angel fed him, and where God proved to him that Jezebel was not the one in charge, and there were still righteous people to stand with him.
            Am I just another Jezebel, discouraging God’s people in their mission?  Do I have a chip on my shoulder that makes me easily offended?  Do I sit like a spectator on the bleachers, watching and waiting for the least little thing, quick to complain, unashamed to make a scene, ready to pass judgment on every word and action, and worse, spread that slander to others?  Do I march up to the elders, the preacher, the class teachers as if they had to answer to me for anything I find disagreeable, which can be anything and everything, depending upon my mood at the moment?  (Yes, I have known people exactly like this.)
            What purpose do I think that serves other than to try the patience, faith, and endurance of those who must put up with my spitefulness?  Why do I think that kind of behavior will help anyone?  Would I accept it from anyone toward me? 
            Every church I have ever been a part of has one of these thorns hidden among them.  Don’t let it be you.  Remember today that God is using you.  Make sure that everything you do and say will in some way help His plan to save the world.  Your brothers and sisters need your encouragement.  Your neighbors need your example of love and service.  That is what God expects of you—to choose to be a rose instead of a thorn.
 
A fool shows his annoyance at once, but a prudent man overlooks an insult.  There is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing, Prov 12:16,18. 
 
Dene Ward

Our first morning in Apalachicola I peeked out our wooden blinds toward the Apalachicola Bay and onward to the Gulf.  The sun was just creeping up out of the water and lighting up the second floor veranda below us with a golden sheen.  Looking down and across the street with its sparse and slow moving traffic was a shop we had seen as we wandered the afternoon before.  "Old Stuff" the sign proclaimed and we could hardly wait to cross the street and give it a look.
            As we walked in a local policeman was coming out.  "If you can't find it here, you can't find it anywhere," he told us, and I believe he might have been right—assuming you were indeed looking for "old stuff."
            The shop area was not huge, but the owner had lined up table after table jammed against each other, and you could walk up and down the single-file-wide aisles and look at the things he had piled on them and beside them, and in some cases above or below them.  We saw huge old ice tongs—the kind the iceman would have used when he brought that block for your icebox.  We saw a real scythe.  This city girl is not sure she would have known what it was if Keith hadn't told me.  There was an old adding machine with what looked like at least 100 buttons on it.  A stack of LPs sat next to another of comic books, including the original "Iron Man," and behind them stood a crossbow.
            There was carnival glass, Depression glass, candy dishes of every size and shape, and an antique 8 place setting of china for a mere $75.  There were pull-up metal ice trays, metal serving trays with painted ads for Coca-Cola, and cast iron implements of every sort.  There were old soda bottles, bowls full of old silverware, and Emily Post's book, Etiquette.  A pile of early 20th century sheet music sat next to an ancient accordion.  Old dolls with porcelain heads and eyes that close when they recline, sat next to toy trains and model planes, jacks, and tiddly winks.  And that's not even the half.  One separate room held tools I had never seen, and probably never heard of, in my entire life.
            Keith asked the old gentleman about the soda bottles and what he got for them.  "Depends on their age," he said.  "The later ones go for about $5, and the older ones for up to $25."  Each.  We have a couple dozen of those $5 bottles ourselves.  The kind you used to pay a 10 cent deposit on.
            If respect and honor are measured in dollars, isn't it funny, or not, that the same old gentleman could probably walk down any street in our country and not command half the respect those old things in his shop do?  And why?  For the same reason his "old stuff" does get respect--because he is old.  In any other venue, our society wants nothing to do with the old.  Even those who are old want nothing to do with it—they do their best to get rid of its evidence with hair color, plastic surgery, and wrinkle cream.
            But the Bible is full of commands to respect the elderly—or else.  “You shall stand up before the gray head and honor the face of an old man, and you shall fear your God: I am the LORD. (Lev 19:32)
            And more than that it tells us to walk, to live our lives, in the old paths.  Thus says the LORD: Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls... (Jer 6:16)
            There is much value in old things.  But there is even more in older people, and in older ways of doing things—if they are old because they come from the Ancient of Days, a God who has been and always will be, and to whom we owe the utmost glory, honor, and respect—not by shouting, "Hallelujah!" but by obeying his ancient and everlasting word.
 
“As I looked, thrones were placed, and the Ancient of Days took his seat; his clothing was white as snow, and the hair of his head like pure wool; his throne was fiery flames; its wheels were burning fire. ​A stream of fire issued and came out from before him; a thousand thousands served him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him; the court sat in judgment, and the books were opened. (Dan 7:9-10)
 
Dene Ward

Did you know there are six Marys in the New Testament?  First, of course, is Jesus' mother.  Then Mary Magdalene (from Magdala), plus the mother of James the Less who was also the wife of Cleopas, the sister of Martha, the mother of John Mark, and finally, the Mary who lived in Rome (Rom 16:6).  As it turns out, Mary was one of the more popular names given to little girls in Palestine in the first century.  (For boys, the most popular was Simon and there are 9 of them in the New Testament!)
            And why was Mary so popular?  It helps if you know the Hebrew equivalent of some of these names.  Mary in the Old Testament was Miriam.  Of course it would be a popular name among women and girls especially.  But I must confess, even when I found out that the two names were the same, my first thought was, "Why her?  She fell and fell with a bang!"
            But isn't that what our culture does?  We remember the failures forever.  No matter how good a person might have been both before and after, we focus on the mistakes they made.  We always say, "Yes, but—"
            Aren't you glad God doesn't do that?  David was always described as "a man after God's own heart."  Peter, who denied Jesus, was allowed to preach the first gospel sermon to both Jews and Gentiles, and serve as an elder in the church (1 Pet 5:1).  And Miriam?  After she was punished, she came back and evidently did her job quietly and well.  Hundreds of years later God remembered her through the prophet Micah like this:  For I brought you up from the land of Egypt and redeemed you from the house of slavery, and I sent before you Moses, Aaron, and Miriam (Mic 6:4).  No "yes buts" with God.
            Isn't that comforting?  And shouldn't we say, "Shame on us," when we do not give that same consideration to a brother or sister?  Shouldn't we be focusing on the good in people instead of constantly looking for and remembering the bad?  Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things (1Cor 13:7).
            Let's try today to remember the good that people have done, even the ones you are not particularly fond of, or have had issues with.  If they sit next to you on the pew, chances are high that there is something good there if you will only take the time to actually look for it.  And wouldn't you like it if that person did the same for you?
 
Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins (1Pet 4:8).
 
Dene Ward