We went for our annual visit to see Lucas in the panhandle and one morning he drove me across Pensacola Bay to a world famous fresh seafood market—Joe Patti's.  He had taken me one year before, after I had already bought the food we needed for our stay, but I was entranced with pile after pile of fish that had come from both the Bay and the Gulf in a boat only steps from the front door of that shop that very morning.  So I told him that the next time I would buy and cook something special for him.
            My plan was for crab stuffed red snapper, a recipe I had cobbled together after doing some research online and in the various cookbooks lining my shelves.  That snapper was beautiful, and I picked out a pound and a half fillet for the three of us, which was treated like gold as the young lady carefully wrapped it, then placed it on ice next to a cashier.  But I still needed the crabmeat.  I am used to 8 ounce containers of fresh crab where I live, but all of these were a full pound, and that made me a little chintzy.  Instead of jumbo lump, I picked up claw meat, and then promptly forgot the problem with that—I neglected to pick through it and pull out any extraneous shell.  That is, until my first bite gave me a solid crunch where there should not have been any.  I am happy to say that it was actually fairly clean for claw meat and I got most of the shell, so Lucas still had the enjoyment of an excellent seafood dinner with some of the best fish he ever ate.
            But I wonder if most of us aren't claw meat.  We have been entirely too careless in cleaning up our lives and have let a few things slip that we shouldn't have.  Especially if we have "grown up in the church" as we are prone to say, and have never committed any of the heinous sins we look down on the rest of the world for, it's easy to think we are nice jumbo lump crabmeat and the Lord ought to be happy he has us.  Do you think I am exaggerating?  I have seen too many people look down on people "straight off the street," just as Simon the Pharisee looked down on the brave woman who made her way into his party and anointed Jesus.  "She loves me more than you do, Simon," Jesus as much as said, and made it plain whom he preferred as his disciple.
            The thing about crabmeat is that even jumbo lump crabmeat needs to be picked through and it's a whole lot easier to find the shell!  Sin always finds its way in the door no matter who we are, how long we have been sitting on a pew, nor how well we think we are doing.  Let's be careful about judging others when we need a good pick-through ourselves.
 
Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand (Rom 14:4).
 
Dene Ward

Aspirin may be the most widely used over- the- counter drug in the world.  In fact, it has been a commonly used drug for thousands of years.  Acetylsalicylic acid (aspirin) comes from salicin, which is derived from various natural sources including willow bark and the spirea plant.  Ancient Sumerians and Egyptians knew about this substance as far back as 3000 BC and used it for pain and inflammation.  Hippocrates used it for fever and pain, including childbirth pain.  I have news for him.  Aspirin won't even come close for that!  Native Americans were known to chew on willow bark to relieve their aches and pains.  But most all these people also knew that too much of it would harm the stomach.  They had to know how to use it so that wouldn't happen.  They also knew which ailments it would not help.
            On March 6, 1899, Bayer was able to patent aspirin.  It isn't a package of powdered willow bark or spirea, but actual tablets, which did not appear until after the turn of the twentieth century.  And over the years, chemists have learned various ways to "buffer" its effects on the stomach.  They have also learned new uses for it.  A "heart attack aspirin" is only steps away in my home and maybe in yours as well.  But I do not use it for my various eye maladies and I doubt it has ever been used for serious illnesses such as leukemia or ALS.  It may have been labeled a "wonder drug" but it doesn't fix everything.
The other morning I noticed Chloe’s left ear sagging to the side.  No matter what was going on or how excited she was, that ear would not stand up as it normally did, over half as tall as her head in the manner of all Australian cattle dogs’ ears.  She reminded me of the antenna that sat on top of our television when I was a child, one leg of it straight up in the air, and the other at nearly ninety degrees.
            Then she started scratching at it and shaking her head and I knew—ear mites.  So we searched through the cabinet until we found the white squeeze bottle of ear mite treatment.  We had never used it on her so she came willingly, even when she saw us with the bottle.  In fact, we had not used it in so long that it took a while to get any out of the bottle, and then when it came, it came with a rush, completely filling her ear canal.  We held her long and massaged it in, but it was still too much.  As soon as we let go she shook her head and slung a big glop of it right into my eye.
            Canine ear mite medicine is not made for human eyeballs.  I rushed inside half blinded and flushed my eye for several minutes, then used up several vials of saline completely clearing the stuff out of my burning eye.  I think the contact lens helped shield it, or it might have been much worse.
            Some things don’t need medicating, especially with the wrong medicine, and some things we think need our ministrations just need to be left alone.
            John said unto him, Teacher, we saw one casting out demons in your name; and we forbade him, because he followed not us. But Jesus said, Forbid him not: for there is no man who shall do a mighty work in my name, and be able quickly to speak evil of me. For he that is not against us is for us, Mark 9:38-40.
            Many times we disagree with a brother about a subject that makes no difference at all in our ability to worship together.  Many times we disagree with each other about things that seem fairly important, but we can still sit on the same pew and worship our God in complete harmony.  The disharmony is caused only when we make something out of it.  As long as your beliefs do not hinder me from mine, where is the problem?  As long as I do not force mine on you as a condition of fellowship when it shouldn’t be, why can’t we get along?  You say you see something you believe might lead to a problem?  As long as it isn’t one, don’t force the issue.  Don’t deliberately do something that will bring discord into the family of God and call it “fighting for the truth,” when it is only wrangling about words or, at its heart, bickering about power.
            Sometimes we need to remember the Lord’s reply to his overzealous disciples:  “He that is not against us is for us.”  And we especially need to remember his absolute loathing of anything and anyone who disrupts the unity of his body.  Paul tells us in Ephesians 2 that Christ came to create unity, and that we are “one new man,” “one body,” “fellow citizens,” and “a family.” Why did he do that?  So that we might “grow into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together for a habitation of God.”  The God of peace cannot dwell in a temple that is not at peace.  We destroy the mission of Christ when we make it so.
            Be careful about diagnosing others’ beliefs.  Be careful about making things matters of spiritual life and death, when they are simply non-life-threatening “bugs.”  Maybe by our sitting together every Sunday, studying together with respect for one another instead of accusations, we can come even closer to agreement on those very bugs, and they will run their course and disappear.
 
One man esteems one day above another; another esteems every day alike.  Let each man be fully assured in his own mind…Why do you pass judgment on your brother? Or you, why do you despise your brother? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God; for it is written, "As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall confess to God." So then each of us will give an account of himself to God, Rom 14:5, 10-12.
 
Dene Ward
 

On March 13, 2014, Walter Williams, a seventy-eight year old Mississippi farmer, died.  It was the second time.  On February 27, he had been declared dead when neither the coroner nor attending nurses could find a pulse.  He was transported to the funeral home.  While workers prepared to embalm him, he suddenly began kicking in the body bag.  An ambulance was called and he was taken to the hospital.  He survived another two weeks before death finally claimed him.  What happened to this man is sometimes the stuff of my nightmares.
           Beta blockers are wonderful things if you have high blood pressure.  They block the effects of the hormone epinephrine, which we usually call adrenaline.  In doing so they lower both your pulse and your blood pressure and open the blood vessels allowing blood to flow more easily, at least that is what the Mayo Clinic website tells me.
            I do not have high blood pressure.  I do have narrow angle glaucoma, complicated by severe nanophthalmus and a handful of other things, so I take four eye medications, several of which contain beta blockers to help lower eye pressure.  So, because my blood pressure is not high, it is now very low, as is my pulse.  High these days is 100/70 and it often runs 90/60 with an accompanying pulse no higher than 60—and that’s when I am excited.  It usually runs much lower than that.  In my recent bout with kidney stones, the alarm they hooked me up to in the ER kept going off because my pulse kept dropping to 40.  Even experienced nurses have difficulty finding my pulse and it often takes two or three tries to get any blood pressure reading.  I told Keith a few weeks ago, if I ever pass out, please make sure they call an ambulance instead of the coroner’s van.
            Needless to say, I do not have much energy these days.  I wear out quickly and my vision begins to fade.  Doing anything in the evening when the usual weariness of the day compounds the problem is a major ordeal.  But do I mind?  Not on your life—I can still see well enough to function, something no one would have predicted 40 years ago.  But I do have to fight exhaustion constantly.
            Sometimes our spiritual vital signs sound an alarm to the people around us.  We may not notice, but they can see the flagging interest and sagging strength.  So I wondered what sort of spiritual beta-blockers we ought to be looking out for.
            The biggest may be distractions in our lives.  It is possible to be too busy—not with sinful things, but completely neutral things, maybe even good things.  Work, entertainment, exercise, travel, sports, the hours we spend on social media and keeping our eyes glued to a screen of some sort all rob us of time we could be spending on thoughtful meditation or  becoming more familiar with God’s word.  Shame on us, we do it to our children too, and often as yet another status symbol.  We enroll them in everything possible and rob them of their childhood by running them back and forth and driving them literally to exhaustion—not to mention the pressure on them to succeed in every single one of these activities.  Do children even know how to play anymore?  I remember having voice students nearly fall asleep standing up!
            Failure to communicate with God may be one of the biggest spiritual beta blockers.  How can we expect to know Him, to know how to please Him, to know why we should want to please Him, to know the direction He wants us to take when we ignore His Word and never speak to Him except at meals—if He’s lucky!  Of course our faith will weaken—our faith is in a Who not a what, and knowing that Who is absolutely necessary to keep from losing it.
            This one may sound a little strange, but bear with me.  Sometimes our busyness is not a busyness in worldly endeavors, it’s a busyness in good works, and even that busyness can weaken us. 
            In Twelve Extraordinary Women John MacArthur says, “It is a danger, even for people who love Christ, that we not become so concerned with doing things for Him that we begin to neglect hearing Him and remembering what He has done for us.  We must never allow our service for Christ to crowd out our worship of Him.  The moment our works become more important than our worship we have turned the true spiritual priorities on their heads…Whenever you elevate good deeds over sound doctrine and true worship, you ruin the works too.  Doing good works for the works’ sake has a tendency to exalt self and depreciate the work of Christ.  Good deeds, human charity, and acts of kindness are crucial expressions of real faith, but they must flow from a true reliance on God’s redemption and His righteousness…Observe any form of religion where good works are ranked as more important than authentic faith or sound doctrine and you’ll discover a system the denigrates Christ while unduly magnifying self.” 
            I have seen people literally work themselves to death for others, visiting, carrying food, taking the elderly to the doctor, cleaning houses and doing yard work and then when their lives take a tragic turn, fall completely apart.  In all their “doing” they had neglected to shore up their own faith with time for prayer, personal Bible study, and taking a real interest in the studies offered during the usual assembly times or extras on the side.  Their lack of theological understanding left them floundering for answers they had never taken the time to look for and learn, and then when they needed them, they had nothing to lean on.
            And so in all these cases, the blood pressure plummets and the pulse fades and soon they may be gone.  I am sure you can think of other spiritual beta blockers.  Today, for your own good, look for them in your life.  How long has it been since you gave yourself a good shot of spiritual adrenaline—zeal? 
If you suffered a spiritual collapse, should we call an ambulance or a hearse?
 
…“Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.” Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. Eph 5:14-16
 
Dene Ward

Believe it or not, fifty or more years ago it wasn't considered rude.  In fact, after we finished our evening meal, all of us sitting at the same table discussing our day (another rare thing these days), we quickly cleaned things up "just in case."  As my sister and I played in our room and as our parents read the paper or watched the evening news, we all kept one ear for an engine, car doors slamming, and footsteps on the front stoop.  At least one night a week, often more, we were rewarded with friends or family dropping by for an unannounced visit.
            At least one night every other week we were the friends or family who made that visit.  Often it was a visit with cousins who lived in another school district or were in different grades.  Or maybe it was an elderly family member, great-aunts and uncles we only saw a few times a year.  Even more often we visited church members, and they in turn visited us.  We shored up our faith with the fellowship of good conversation and laughter, and usually a healthy dose of Biblical discussion.  Even when there were no children our age, I enjoyed sitting quietly in the corner, listening.  I doubt we ever spent a week without seeing another Christian sometime or other.
            All of that has gone the way of the manual typewriter and cassette tape recorder.  It is old-fashioned, "unfeasible," and yes, even rude.  I understand the change in a culture and the times we live in.  What I do not understand is Christians who no longer make it a point to be together any time except Sunday morning in a building where the after-services conversation is anything but deep because we all have to get somewhere else as soon as possible.
            And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved (Acts 2:46-47).  One of the reasons the first church grew was that they made it a priority to be together as often as possible—"day by day."  One of the prime benefits of going to a one service Sunday that I have seen is those groups who then schedule regular times of special study, group meetings, or simple socializing.  Others use the time to visit shut-ins and the elderly, many taking their children along so they can learn how to serve this way as well.  Trust me, there are still old-timers who remember people "dropping by," who would not mind if you did so, though the first time might be a shock after the lack of such things in our culture lately.
            And maybe we should get used to the idea again.  After all, one of these days, the Lord is going to "just drop by."  Make sure you are prepared for it.
 
Now concerning the times and the seasons, brothers, you have no need to have anything written to you. For you yourselves are fully aware that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. While people are saying, “There is peace and security,” then sudden destruction will come upon them as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and they will not escape. But you are not in darkness, brothers, for that day to surprise you like a thief. For you are all children of light, children of the day. We are not of the night or of the darkness (1Thess 5:1-5).
 
Dene Ward

"No one can make me do anything."
            I have heard this more times than I can count.  Usually the person who says it turns right around and goes to the DMV to renew his driver's license because he got a reminder in the mail, pays his taxes by April 15, and drives the speed limit—whenever there is a trooper behind him or on the side of the road.  What he means is, as long as it's something that won't put me in jail or cost me a ton of money or take away an important privilege, you can't make me do it if I don't want to.  And there is the key—he doesn't want to do that thing so he won't.  Unfortunately, this is a very American attitude.  People who live under a dictatorship wouldn't dream of uttering those words.
            I suppose for the ordinary person that attitude is to be expected.  But when it comes out of the mouths of Christians, I wonder what exactly they think Christianity really is and why they would ever follow a Leader who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross (Phil 2:6-8).  He didn't especially want to do all that;  he asked three times that he not have to, but he always ended that prayer, Thy will be done.  Not his will, but God's.  Christianity is a religion of submission and yielding one's rights and liberties.  Anyone who thinks he can still do the will of God without putting the needs and desires of others ahead of his own does not understand what it means to be a disciple of the Lord. 
            God tells us to obey the civil government (Romans 13:1-7).  He tells us to obey the elders of the church (Heb 13:17).  He tells the younger men to submit to the older ones (1 Peter 5:5) and he tells us that all of us should submit to one another in our personal liberties if a man's soul is at stake (Romans 14, 1 Corinthians 8).  And then he tells us that if we love him we will keep his commandments (John 14:15), and that includes all those submission commandments.
            I wonder what the one who still utters that phrase above thought he was doing when he was baptized.  Sometimes I think we fail to mention that it's not just a ceremonial washing to get rid of sins, it is a ritual showing that we are pledging to devote our lives to the Lord, including our opinions, our preferences, our desires, and our attitudes.  If that isn't being done, then all that person did was get wet.
            But you know, that person is right.  No one can make him do anything.  It's up to him to learn to want to.
 
Now we that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each one of us please his neighbor for that which is good, unto edifying. For Christ also pleased not himself; but, as it is written, The reproaches of them that reproached thee fell upon me (Rom 15:1-3).
 
Dene Ward
 

I make a shopping list every week.  When you live thirty miles from town and the price of gas has risen so high, you learn to plan.  Running up to the store for a forgotten item is not in the works.
             I know what I am going to cook each night that week, what I need for each dish, what is missing from the staples in the pantry, and what is on sale where before I leave the house.  Keith and I also spend a few minutes the evening before trying to think of every other piece of business I can take care of in the same trip.  Used to be I had to make as many stops as the grocery store, the pharmacy, the dry cleaners, the bank, the discount store, the music store, and the office supply store, then fit the women’s Bible study in there somewhere, making certain I accomplished everything in time to be home, unloaded, dinner either in the oven or the crockpot or everything set out for a quick fix meal, and then the studio set up and ready for music students by 2:30 for four hours of instruction.
            I learned to use one of the reply envelopes supplied by all the credit card companies who want us to go into debt up to our ears.  I kept a stack in my kitchen drawer and each week listed all my stops, numbered for time and gas efficiency, and what I needed to do or pick up at each stop on the outside of the envelope.  Inside I put coupons and claim tickets.  When I came home those had been replaced with receipts and new claim tickets, depending upon what was happening that week.  I seldom forgot anything thanks to my “system.”
            The other day as I was talking to God, I realized that I had strayed into my shopping list format.  Very matter-of-factly I was telling Him what I needed when and how I would like it served.  I reminded myself of Captain Picard standing in front of the replicator in his ready room barking out, “Tea—Earl Gray—hot!”  Suddenly I remembered to Whom I was talking and shivered a little.  What in the world was I thinking? 
            God is not a grocery store.  He is not a waiter at the restaurant waiting for me to make my order, giving Him extra directions so it will be exactly what I want—pastrami on rye, pressed, extra mustard, hold the mayo, slaw on the side.  Yet isn’t that exactly how we treat Him sometimes?  Yes, I can tell Him all my desires; in fact, He expects me to do that, and He wants to satisfy me, His child.  But when I start expecting Him to parcel it out in only the way I want it, as if I can send it back with a reprimand if it doesn’t suit me, I have overstepped the bounds.
            We have all seen children make their lists for birthdays and for Christmas, but don’t we all think better of the children who have learned that wanting something doesn’t mean they ought to have it, that wanting for others is even better than wanting for themselves, and that they should be grateful for whatever they receive, not complain about it. 
            My parents taught me to never greet a guest, especially a grandparent or favorite aunt or uncle with, “What did you bring me?” 
            “They might think that is the only reason you want to see them, and that would hurt their feelings,” it was explained to me.  I think I need to relearn that lesson about God. 
 
And at the evening oblation I arose up from my humiliation, even with my garment and my robe rent; and I fell upon my knees and spread out my hands unto Jehovah my God, and I said, Oh my God, I am ashamed and blush to lift up my face to you my God; for our iniquities are increased over our head, and our guiltiness is grown up unto the heavens, Ezra 9:5,6.
 
Dene Ward

Due to Keith's profound deafness, we have had more than the usual interest in cochlear implants.  The first one was invented by Andre Djourno and Charles Eyries in 1957.  William House also invented one in 1961.  That one was first implanted at Stanford University in 1964.  But these early implants were of limited use.  They could not stimulate different areas of the ear at different times to allow for different frequencies.  Research continued.  The resulting modern multi-channel cochlear implant, which fixed the multiple frequency issues, was first implanted on December 16, 1977, in Vienna by Professor Kurt Burein.  As of 2012, the FDA states that over 324,200 patients have received them. 
          The advantages claimed are improved (though not perfectly normal) hearing, decrease in depression, anxiety and social isolation, and improved verbal communication.  While that sounds great, these things are not for everyone.  Anyone whose deafness is caused by injury to or absence of the auditory nerve cannot be helped.  In addition, it limits things like MRIs on the implant patient's head, which can only be done under very strict guidelines.  And then there is the issue of cost, since not all insurance companies will cover the bill, or will cover only a part of it, leaving a hefty portion for the patient.  Since Keith has already had neurological issues which have required MRIs, it would seem the implant is not for him even if no other problems existed.
          While we might wish things were different for us, did you realize that not everyone wants one of these miracle inventions?  Some of those in the deaf culture consider these things oppression by the hearing world, a form of discrimination, and assault on their personhood.  They are certainly entitled to their own feelings, and I would not for a minute try to tell any one of them what to do and how to live their lives.  None of us should.  But there is another issue—spiritual deafness, people who refuse to listen to God.  Now that needs to be fixed.
           I was thinking about all these things one day last spring as Chloe and I walked out to Magdi’s grave for a few minutes.  The mums we planted there were coming back from the winter’s frost, and the grass around it greening up as well.  As we headed back to the house, I stopped and listened.  I heard crows, wrens, titmice, cardinals, hawks, woodpeckers, chickadees, blue jays, and sparrows, as well as a few I haven’t yet learned to recognize.  The world seemed completely full of tweets, chirps, whistles, warbles, and trills.  These are the things that my poor husband cannot hear, which is even worse than just being deaf, because I consider them another way to hear God, just as surely as if He had spoken out loud.  Who else could have created such diverse and beautiful sounds?  Everything else was manmade and ugly—a semi roaring out on the highway, the neighbor’s leaf blower whining away, another’s raucous lawn mower spitting and sputtering, and still another’s old pickup truck loudly revving.  Now a few of those Keith can actually hear!  Poor guy.
            Then I stopped to think of all the other times I have heard God in my life—the incessant pounding of the waves on the beach; the scream of a hawk diving for its prey; the sound of a little boy’s voice who, less than thirteen years ago, did not exist; my mother’s final breath as she left for a better place.  Anyone who has not heard God in those things, probably does not hear Him in the place where He speaks plainest—His word, for God does not leave His children wondering just exactly what that metaphysical moment they experienced meant for them to do.  He tells them plainly.
            Remember the Day of Pentecost?  Everyone heard “a sound as of a rushing mighty wind” that “filled all the house,” a sound they all recognized as having come “from heaven,” Acts 2:2.  Yet when did they finally know what God wanted them to do?  Only after the apostles spoke.  “Then when they heard this,” they were told exactly what to do, 2:37. 
            When an angel spoke to Cornelius in a vision—an angel, mind you—he certainly heard God, but he was told to send for Peter who would speak “words whereby you shall be saved” 11:14.
            Paul told the Romans “faith comes by hearing and hearing through the word of Christ” 10:17, the same word, the same gospel he proclaimed “the power of God unto salvation” 1:16.
            Yes, it is possible to hear God in the world around you.  If you don’t, you have a remarkably unspiritual mind.  If the roar of the wind and crack of thunder in a storm doesn’t fill you with wonder at the power of an Almighty Creator, you need a few pointed reminders as to the brevity and fragility of life and the temporal nature of the world around you.  But if you really want to know what God wants of you, get out His Word and read it.  Only those who are ready to listen can really hear, and you don't need any sort of implant to do so.
 
Whoever is of God hears the words of God. The reason why you do not hear them is that you are not of God. John 8:47.
 
Dene Ward
 

For probably the first ten years of my life we had a holiday ritual.  We spent every Christmas Eve with my daddy's parents and we had Christmas Dinner at my maternal grandmother's house with all her children, their spouses, and grandchildren.  Altogether there were about 20 of us in a small frame house, which might have been 800 square feet at most.  I still remember my grandmother's cornbread dressing which, despite her giving me her "recipe" of "this and that and a little more of the other if that looks like this," I have never been able to duplicate.  Like my mother I finally came up with my own and have stuck with it.  Then there was her banana pudding—vanilla wafers, very ripe bananas, a real egg custard, and meringue on top, usually still warm.
            The adults at this huge feast of a meal always sat in the dining room.  The babies still in high chairs sat next to the parents at the dining table.  The rest of us kids stood by as our mothers fixed us a plate and then set us up at "The Kids' Table," a small table in the kitchen.  Seems like we seldom talked much, and we certainly didn't play around much—both the table and the kitchen were too small for rambunctiousness if we wanted to stay out of trouble.  We usually sat there and listened to the grown-ups talking and laughing in the next room as we ate.  Sometimes we watched the backyard through the screen door right by the table, and always a cool December breeze blew in and chilled us and our food a little too quickly.  But a kitchen in Central Florida, even in December, needed an open door or a tiny house with twenty people in it would have been far too warm.  Some of the kids actually got up as soon as they could to go sit on the front porch and swing or play on the gray-painted planks, missing dessert entirely, but I have never skipped dessert in my life, if it was available.
            We moved away when I was nine and after a couple of years traveling the long road back from Tampa to Orlando, we began keeping our own holiday traditions and meal at our house.  Once in a while we returned for some special year, like the year Keith was introduced to the family.  By then, the kids' table had added the front porch as its adjunct for the teenagers.  Not many were still small enough for that tiny kitchen, and we could all fill our own plates.  We were responsible for what we ate, how much, and when.
            If you called the church a holiday celebration, who would be sitting in the dining room and who would be sitting at the Kids' Table?  Paul seemed to think the Corinthians might be in the kitchen or perhaps in the high chairs with the babies.  But I, brothers, could not address you as spiritual people, but as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ. I fed you with milk, not solid food, for you were not ready for it. And even now you are not yet ready (1Cor 3:1-2).  If you keep reading, their problems were jealousy, strife, and divisions which manifested themselves in a host of ways, as the remainder of the book shows. 
            But that isn't the only way we act like children.  …So that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes (Eph 4:14).  Once again if you read the surrounding verses you find issues with unity and love as well as their lack of a foundation in the Word, which is why those gifts were given—apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers to provide them that foundation.
            And of course, the classic passage:  For when by reason of the time ye ought to be teachers, you have need again that someone teach you the rudiments of the first principles of the oracles of God; and are become such as have need of milk, and not of solid food. For every one that partakes of milk is without experience of the word of righteousness; for he is a baby (Heb 5:12-13).
            If I wanted to make just one application from these passages and the metaphor I began with, it might be this:  The children had to have their plates dipped out by their mothers.  They not only couldn't reach across the big dining table, they did not know how to put a balanced meal on their plates.  I remember thinking that Nannie's dressing and banana pudding would make one fine meal, thank you very much, but for some reason I also ended up with green beans and collard greens, too.  How are we doing at dishing up our spiritual plates?  Do we only eat what the elders' choose to dish out in the Bible classes of our assembly, picking at it like it was collard greens, or do we study on our own, making the time to dig deeply into the Word as if it really meant something to us?  Do we ever attend the extra studies offered, or even go to a more-studied brother and ask to study with him?  Do we have to be force-fed the Bread of Life?
           We kids always felt a little resentment at being at the Kids' Table, waiting very impatiently until we were grown-up enough to move to the porch at least, if not the dining table.  How about us?  Are we ready to grow up and move on, or are we perfectly happy being spoon-fed?
 
But solid food is for fullgrown men, even those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern good and evil (Heb 5:14).
 
Dene Ward

I am a crossword puzzle enthusiast—a cruciverbalist, but that is not the extent of the word games I enjoy.  One of my favorites involves making as many words as possible out of one larger word—not anagrams exactly, which use every letter of the word and are small in number, but using the letters of the word only as many times as the original word uses them and making as many other words as possible, three letters or larger, not counting plurals, past tense, or other obvious derivatives. 

            For example, how many other words can you make out of the word “jealousy?”  Sea, use, you, soul, say, aloes, lose, louse, yea, seal, joules, lea, sole, jay, lay, say, soy—and that’s just off the top of my head typing as fast as I can.  But how about this one—joy?  Seems a little ironic, doesn’t it, that you can make joy out of jealousy?

            A lot of people get those two mixed up.  In times where we should be “rejoicing with those who rejoice,” we find ourselves feeling just a tinge of jealousy.  Why did he get that promotion and not me?  Why is she being lauded from the pulpit and not me?  Why do people run to them for advice when I am just as smart/experienced/knowledgeable/ wise, etc.?  And that green-eyed monster gradually takes over, turning us into its willing minion.  We can easily think of reasons that other person does not deserve this and spread it to whomever will listen, causing us to ignore our own blessings, steeping ourselves in ingratitude that gradually becomes bitterness, not just against the other person, but at life in general. 

            Elizabeth is the best example I know of someone who got it right.  She took what could have been a cause for jealousy and changed it into a cause for joy.

            Zacharias and Elizabeth had made it to old age without having children.  According to Lenski, Elizabeth was probably looked down on as someone who had somehow displeased God—that was the general attitude toward barren women.  Finally, after years of waiting, probably with a multitude of prayers, Zacharias came home with the good news—albeit written down, since he could no longer speak:  “We are going to be parents!”  And not only that, but this child will be special—he will be the promised Elijah spoken of in Malachi.

            Then lo and behold, six months later, along comes her teenage cousin with even better news.  She too, is pregnant, and is blessed to bear the Messiah.  What?!  Elizabeth has been waiting for decades.  She is older and wiser.  She has been the faithful wife of a priest, and borne the ridicule of an ignorant culture, blaming her for her own misfortune.  And she gets the Forerunner while this child who has scarcely lived long enough to even be considered faithful, who is fertile (in this culture the family would know her menstrual history) and will probably (and ultimately did) bear more than half a dozen children, this girl gets the Messiah?  How fair is that?

            But Elizabeth had the grateful attitude and the abiding Messianic hope of a faithful child of God.  In those days Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country, to a town in Judah, and she entered the house of Zacharias and greeted Elizabeth. And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the baby leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, and she exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me? Luke 1:39-43.

            Not only is she excited for Mary, she humbles herself before a younger woman, one with far less experience and far less service on her record—she simply hadn’t lived long enough to do much yet.  And her joy?  It was not a feigned, polite joy, but a joy so overwhelming that “the babe leaped in her womb for joy” v 44.  I am told that “leap for joy” is one Greek word, the same one used in verse 40, quoted earlier.  It is a sympathetic joy.  In other words, Elizabeth was so moved with joy that it caused her unborn child to move within her.  Every mother understands how her own emotions can affect her unborn baby, in the last trimester especially.  Elizabeth’s joy for her young cousin was that deep and moving.  Jealousy never entered her heart for a second.

            How does that match with statements like, “He gets to lead singing more than my husband;” “My husband hasn’t been asked to teach in a long time;” “How can he be an elder when my husband is just as good as he is and no one has asked him.” 

            Oh yes, it happens.  And it should not.  If we are all members of the same body, then if one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together. 1Cor 12:26. 

            Love “envies not” 1 Cor 13:4.  When you do envy, you do not love as you are commanded to.  Jealousy and envy are works of the flesh (Gal 5:20,21).  Those who practice them “will not inherit the kingdom of God.”  Check yourself on this.  Has your speech given you away?

            Too many of us get this backwards.  We rejoice when bad things happen to others and weep when good things happen to them.  What about you?
 
If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking one another, envying one another. Gal 5:25-26
 
Dene Ward

Sometimes the people who become involved in prison ministries are too idealistic.  They wind up being taken advantage of by the very people they are trying to save, usually because those people see that idealism and know exactly how to exploit it.  Either those idealists become disenchanted and leave the field entirely, or they learn a little pragmatism—they become adept at recognizing the signs and usually avoid being manipulated.  Keith has been working with convicted felons for a long time, so he knows exactly how to deal with them.  First as a probation officer, then a classifications officer, and now as a volunteer Bible class teacher, he has learned to read his audience fairly well.
            “But has all this work ever resulted in anything good?” someone asked once.
            Well, besides the lives that he has influenced for the better, the young men who have learned a little self-discipline and gotten good jobs and become good citizens—and there were a few—besides that, many have become Christians and useful members of the Lord's body.  You should see the surprised looks when I mention that.
            And here is the thing that might surprise you more.  The larger problem when this happens is wondering how the brethren will receive such a one.  In one place we lived, the church found out we might possibly have a newly released, and newly baptized, ex-convict among us and they were not happy at all.  We heard comments ranging from, “I won’t ever allow myself to be alone with him,” to, “I don’t want him around my children.”
            Reminds me a little of Acts 9:26:  And when he was come to Jerusalem, he assayed to join himself to the disciples: and they were all afraid of him, not believing that he was a disciple.  Yes, a murderer had come into their midst and they didn’t want to have anything to do with him.  In fact, this man had seen to the deaths of their very own friends and relatives.  Their fear and loathing sounds reasonable, doesn’t it?
            But not to Barnabas.  He took that man around and assured everyone that he had changed.  Did he know him better than they?  Not that I can tell from any reading I’ve ever found.  He did not know Saul of Tarsus from Levi of Persepolis.  What he did know was his Savior and the power of his gospel.  For I am not ashamed of the gospel: for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believes… Rom 1:16.
            And the more our culture becomes like the culture of that time, the more likely that we will not be dealing with upstanding middle class nuclear families when we evangelize, but with people who come to us with immoral backgrounds, with addictions, and with criminal records.  Or know you not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with men, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you… 1Cor 6:9-11.
            And it will be up to us to show them that we truly believe the rest of that citation:  but you were washed, but you were sanctified, but you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and in the Spirit of our God. 
            We talk a good fight when we talk about “God saving me, the sinner,” and how we don’t deserve our salvation and need the grace of God, “just like everyone else.”  But too often there is an exception clause in our thinking.  The Lord has made it perfectly clear through his brother James, murder equals adultery equals prejudice (James 2:8-11).  The same law says they are all sin.  None of us will be a step ahead of our brothers with convictions on their records when we stand before God.  We have all been washed, sanctified and justified, and we will all be judged “as we judge others.”
 
For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy. Mercy triumphs over judgment. Jas 2:13
 
Dene Ward