By now I can imagine some of you saying, "If their place was so perfect, why did they leave?"
            Well, obviously, there was something about it that wasn't perfect.  Our circumstances are changing—we grow older every day and our bodies weaker.  Taking care of a large property with very little power equipment had become more and more difficult.
            And then someone might ask, "If this new place is so imperfect, why did you buy it?"
            No, it doesn't have beautiful flowers.  Yes, it is a tiny yard with neighbors you can shake hands with out the windows--well, almost.  Yes, it needs a lot of work.  But you see, our priorities have changed.  We are 5-6 minutes from a son and his family.  We are 7-8 minutes from church.  We are 10-12 minutes from another excellent eye specialist.  An ambulance can probably get here in 2-3 minutes.  That's what counts these days.
            Priorities make what is unacceptable in one circumstance, acceptable in another.  And that is why it is so important that a Christian have his priorities in order.  God never promised an easy life.  Jesus reminded us to "count the cost" before making the commitment to Him.  Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted (2Tim 3:12).  If you don't understand that going in, you will never last when life becomes difficult.
            We sing a song with the title of this series, but take a moment now and ask yourself, when I sing that song, do I make a hypocrite out of myself?  Does my discipleship matter more than where I live or how I live?  Is it more important than who likes me and who doesn't?  If I lose everything for the Lord, can I live with it joyfully?  For you had compassion on those in prison, and you joyfully accepted the plundering of your property, since you knew that you yourselves had a better possession and an abiding one (Heb 10:34).  Do we have the strength and spirituality to do that?  If not, then maybe our priorities need a second look—a long one. 
            This move has made us think a little harder, change a little more in that direction.  No matter where you live in this world, it is still just a motel stop on the way home.  Treat it that way and your life will be so much better in the long run.
 
Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ (Phil 3:8).
 
Dene Ward
 

I was concerned when we left our property because it had to be done quickly, so while packing, I cleaned each shelf as I emptied it—in the kitchen, in closets, in the laundry, and in bathrooms.  Early the week we left, I cleaned all the bathrooms, and sprayed down the shower the night before.  As the furniture was being emptied out of the house, I began sweeping—the floors and even the walls behind larger pieces of furniture that hadn't seen light of day in several decades.  And because the movers told us we had to go when they did, I even left a very good friend behind sweeping the last couple of rooms I hadn't gotten to yet.  The place was as clean as I could reasonably make it without an extra day to hire a cleaning company—but the buyer was impatient and wanted in NOW!  Still I felt a little bad about it not being exactly perfect.
            Then we arrived here and I stopped worrying.  Obviously, no one had cleaned up for us even a little bit.  I suppose they had swept, but the baseboards had not been touched in years, no exaggeration.  Every room was surrounded by a thin black line a couple inches above the floor.  And the bathrooms?  One day I spent three hours cleaning top to bottom, stem to stern, on step stools and on my hands and knees, and you could barely tell it because the stains were so set in.  And I must have scraped (with a knife) a quarter inch of soap scum off each soap holder, top and bottom.  Dust was caked above doors, above electrical outlets, and in every crevice of anything that could catch it for the past twenty years.  The air conditioner filter apparently had never been changed and you might be surprised what that makes blow out of the vents across the ceilings!  No one had cleaned these shelves as they packed.  I had to clean them before I could unpack.  The concrete floor of the back porch was black when it should have been gray.  I think that's enough for you to see what we had to deal with.
            Maybe because of all that grime, whenever we came across something left behind, I picked it up with two fingers and immediately tossed it.  I wanted absolutely nothing to do with anything that came from this filthy house. 
            But did I feel that way about the house I left behind?  I wondered, when the buyer took down some of the things that were attached to the house and we were instructed to leave, if he had felt the same way about our things.  I hope that the obvious effort we had gone to made a difference, but why should it?  If he found any dirt at all, it probably disgusted him as much as this dirt disgusted me.
            And isn't that always the case?  My dirt is not as bad as someone else's.  I could even change the diapers of my own children and grandchildren a whole lot more easily than I could anyone else's children's. 
            And that makes it harder to see our dirt, doesn't it?  And when we do, much less likely to be concerned about it.  Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? (Matt 7:3-4).
            But dirt is dirt is dirt, and sin is sin is sin, as James indicated in 2:11.  Yours is not worse than mine, nor mine than yours.  They are all evil in God's eyes, and when someone has the love (and courage) to tell us about them, it should be a cause for rejoicing and gratitude, not anger.  Maybe we should all work on that a little more.
          God dwells in the church, his people.  Christ dwells in us by faith.  Neither of them wants to live in a dirty house, no matter whose dirt it is.
 
Jesus answered him, If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him (John 14:23).
 
Dene Ward

[We} ought always to pray and not lose heart, Luke 18:1
 
Someone told us we could write a book about all the things that happened in our move and no one would believe it.  Every other day brought a glitch of some sort.  How can all of these things happen during the same transaction?  Even seasoned real estate agents with stories to tell were amazed at ours.  And so for a full four weeks our prayers were fast and intense to the point of tears upon occasion.  While we pray with regularity, this was more than the usual.
            Eventually the pieces did fall into place in what seemed a Providential pattern, but not before turning them around every which way, trying every possible configuration of the puzzle.  And pray we did, asking, begging, pleading that the latest snag in the process would work itself out.  With His guidance, it did.
            God never tires of helping His children.  He wants us to show our dependence on Him.  He wants us to recognize our need of His help and care.  Some of the most biting, sarcastic sections of the prophets concern His people going to other gods for the very things Jehovah himself had promised, and for years had furnished.  Why were they expecting anything from a lifeless piece of wood or metal, He asked?
            He told them shortly before Jerusalem's fall to the Babylonians, On your walls, O Jerusalem, I have set watchmen; all the day and all the night they shall never be silent. You who put the LORD in remembrance, take no rest, and give him no rest until he establishes Jerusalem and makes it a praise in the earth (Isa 62:6-7).  For the faithful few, the command was simple—pray!  Ask!  Talk to me, again and again and again!  We should give Him no rest either. 
          Bother Him night and day with your cares, your sorrows, your requests.  Pester Him with your musings, your questions, your meditations, just as you would a faithful mentor or loving parent.  I promise you, He won't mind at all.
 
I love the LORD, because he has heard my voice and my pleas for mercy. Because he inclined his ear to me, therefore I will call on him as long as I live (Ps 116:1-2).

Continue steadfastly in prayer, being watchful in it with thanksgiving (Col 4:2).
 
Dene Ward

I bet you have no idea how many things you take for granted.  How many times a day do you turn a knob or push a lever and expect water in one form or another and would be completely flabbergasted if it did not come?  How many times do you flip a switch and expect light?  How many times do you toss something in the trash knowing that someone will come take it away for you?
            Living in small rural counties for over forty years has taught me better about those things.  The power goes out for sometimes no apparent reason and when you have a well, no power means no water either.  Garbage pickup is non-existent so you haul your own and suddenly become very aware of all the trash you generate and try to make it less.  So we were expecting all the paperwork involved in transferring those services from the previous owners of our new home and not upset by it or the deposits.  We were simply grateful to at long last have these sort of services on a reliable basis.
            But the post office completely let us down.  Even though we had filed change of address in a timely manner, there is no contingency for people who are between closing on the old property and closing on the new.  Surely millions like us exist, needing the money on the old to pay for the new, and thus several days with no address.  Would they hold our mail in our new city?  No, they would not.  It would all be "returned to sender."  Since we were expecting three or four bills, including credit card and car insurance bills, we were left scrambling, trying to find out how much we owed and where to send it.  Despite its slogan ("neither rain nor snow…"), it will be a good while before we take daily mail delivery for granted again.
            Even if you think you are better than most, I guarantee there is something you take for granted, a blessing that comes from God.  We may all have our troubles, but as Jeremiah reminds us, we would have only the bad and nothing good at all if it weren't for God (Lam 3:22), something he said in the middle of famine, disease, and the destruction of Jerusalem.
            Do you have a home, regardless its size and amenities?  Do you have a family?  Do you have food on your table and clothes on your back?  Can you travel to work in relative safety?  (Do you even have a job?)  Do you have the medicine you need?  Can you pay for your true necessities, if not for all the high tech gadgets you think you "deserve" simply because everyone else has them, and do you take all this for granted as if God owed it to you, if you even think of Him at all in relation to them?
            Yes, we should also be thanking God for all these relatively minor things which we too often treat as the most important of all, more important even than salvation from sin and rescue from an eternity in Hell.  But that should then lead us on to recognition and gratitude for those grander spiritual gifts which we too seldom think about, and thus, too often take for granted.  When the time comes that they suddenly loom in our consciousness, we may find ourselves wishing we had been more aware and more grateful, and hoping it is not too late.
 
Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom can be no variation, neither shadow that is cast by turning (Jas 1:17).
 
Dene Ward
 

If you want to understand the title of this series, stay in someone else's home between the closing of your old home and the closing of your new one.  For us it was 12 days in the home of our son and daughter-in-law.  Certainly they could not have been more welcoming and sympathetic hosts, but because of my upbringing—what Mama taught you always sticks—I was constantly aware of the extra expense and schedule disruption we were causing.  And so we tried to help with chores, buy a few groceries, and as much as possible, stay out of the way, even as they tried to include us in their family routines and guide us through the business end of moving, which they had done much more recently.
            It worked out as well as it could, I think, but it made me wonder if our attitudes toward this world and this life wouldn't benefit from the same consideration.  We have a tendency to view things in a proprietary manner—it's MY world, MY life, MY home, MY opinions and feelings.  No, it is not, not if you are a servant (slave) of God.  …It is no longer I that live, but Christ lives in me…Gal 2:20; always bearing about in the body the dying of Jesus, that the life also of Jesus may be manifested in our body. For we who live are always delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus may be manifested in our mortal flesh (2Cor 4:10-11); that you no longer should live the rest of your time in the flesh to the lusts of men, but to the will of God (1Pet 4:2).
            My home should be a place where God rules, not "the man of the house," certainly not the children.  My life is run by God's laws, not my likes and dislikes.  I don't even get to think what I want to think (Phil 4:8).
            Service is, by definition, neither easy nor convenient but, like being offered hospitality in such a generous and loving way that gratitude springs forth almost spontaneously, the same should happen in our attitude toward God.  He allows us to live in this world, the world HE created and owns.  He blesses us in a life we do not deserve, especially in this culture.  The least we can do is live in a way that acknowledges the fact that this world is not our home.  In fact, it is not ours in any way at all.
 
A Psalm of David. The earth is Jehovah's, and the fulness thereof; The world, and they that dwell therein. For he hath founded it upon the seas, And established it upon the floods. Who shall ascend into the hill of Jehovah? And who shall stand in his holy place? He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; Who hath not lifted up his soul unto falsehood, And hath not sworn deceitfully. He shall receive a blessing from Jehovah, And righteousness from the God of his salvation (Ps 24:1-5).
Dene Ward

For three weeks we have been purging and packing.  The purging is by far the most difficult job.  We have found little bits of unblemished board that we were sure "might come in handy;" every tote bag from every music teachers' convention I ever went to with the label of a well-known music publisher splashed on the sides of each; the last four purses I replaced but couldn't bring myself to toss; jars and containers of all sizes that I just knew I could store something in someday; remnants of every roll of wrapping paper I ever bought and was too cheap to toss even if they couldn't even wrap a marble; piles of scratch paper, card stock, and old green and white lined, side-hole-punched computer paper from sometime in the—80s?  Be careful what you hand us for the next few months.  It has become our habit to toss without even looking first. 
            Our priorities have become completely re-oriented.  If I have forgotten I even owned it, why keep it now?  If we haven't used it in the last thirty years, what makes us think we will use it when we don't have even close to thirty years left?  So we will live much leaner lives from now on, I think.  We know what we need and it isn't really very much.
            The last time this kind of thinking happened, Keith had come within a literal half inch of dying.  No one could believe he was still alive and everyone finds the story nearly impossible to believe when he tells it now.  Do you know how quickly our priorities changed then?  Suddenly, it wasn't about things at all, nor anyone else's opinion of us, nor even dreams for the future. We had nearly lost that future and all we really cared about was having one of any kind at all.  Nothing much irritated us or bothered us.  We walked around our property, enjoying the birds and the flowers and the trees.  We breathed deeply the jasmine-scented air and thought it the best aroma we had ever smelled.  We prayed deeper, stronger prayers, not just of thanksgiving, but prayers for more time to serve God and our brethren.  Suddenly we knew what mattered like we never had before.
            And preparing for this move has brought us the same clarity.  The memories of this place will always be special.  This is where we brought up our boys.  This is where we learned to trust God implicitly because of all the hurdles this ground put in front of us.  And this is where we grew stronger than we would have in an easy place.  But it's just a place, a time in our lives that is now gone.  A new phase begins and we pray that we will learn more from it, and that we will have time to serve others whom we may never even have met yet.
            Check your priorities before it's too late.  What really matters to you?  Is it all the "stuff" of life, or is it what you do with your life, no matter where you live it?  Put the "stuff" aside in your heart, if not in your home, and concentrate on living a spiritual life, a servant's life, a humble life of trust in the God who will never forsake you, the God who will ultimately give you a home better than any you could even imagine.  After all, this world is not my home, and it was never meant to be.
 
And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O LORD, have not forsaken those who seek you (Ps 9:10).
 
Dene Ward
 

Isn't it funny how one day something can be great and a day or two later, the same thing can be so-so or even downright bad?
            We are in the middle of trying to empty our freezer and fridge the last two weeks before we move.  I never realized how successful I was at creating a well-stocked pantry.  Some things I have given up on using up—I already packed the 15 pounds of flour and four boxes of tea bags I had.  But the cold stuff is a different matter.  And so I have been opening the freezer door, then the fridge door, pulling things out willy-nilly and doing my best to use them up.  These days, a good meal is defined as one that uses up a lot of ingredients.
            One day I pulled some leftover ham out of the freezer along with half a bag of cubed frozen hash brown potatoes.  As it happened I also had 2½ pounds total of at least four kinds of cheese.  Then I found a pint of fat-free half and half and the brain really started working—cheese sauce!  So before it was over I had a ham and potato casserole with a sauce containing about ¾ pound of cheese and the last half cup of sour cream and a few seasonings I could still scrounge up.  My countertop was piled high with empty containers and bags.  A great dish, I thought—before I had even tasted it, because at that point, it was how much I had used up that counted, not how it tasted.  I was looking at success through completely different eyes.  Which is exactly what God expects of us. 
            How do we define success?  Is it all about the home we live in, the number of vacations we can take, and the kind of car we drive?  That is not God's idea of a successful life.  For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit (Rom 8:5).  God expects us to look at life through spiritual eyes, recognizing the things that truly matter, the things that are eternal.  And so we can judge a life lived in a modest home with few expensive belongings as being a great success if the spiritual health of the family is in tip-top condition.
           When my parents passed away, they lived in a small, two bedroom house in a small retirement community.  They had one vehicle, a Ford Tempo.  They ate out every Sunday and that was the most expensive entertainment they took part in.  Some people would not be impressed.  Yet all of their children were Christians and married to Christians.  All of their grandchildren were Christians and the married ones were married to Christians.  When they passed they had a hope of Heaven, hope in the way the Bible uses it—full assurance and expectation.  That is what I call a successful life.
           So I will keep on coming up with crazy meals out of my freezer and fridge, and the more empty they get, the more odd they will get.  But if we can use up all that food before we leave, they will be considered successful meals, whether they taste good or not.  And we will understand better than ever that we should be careful how we view this world, and not let our culture's view of success be our guide.
 
If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory (Col 3:1-4).
 
Dene Ward

Anyone who has sold a home and bought a home understands the dilemma.  Your home must be inspected on behalf of the buyer and the home you are buying must be inspected on your behalf.
            As it happened, the inspection on the home we were buying went first.  Check this, check that, check every tiny detail, we implored, even though I am sure the professional inspector did not need our advice.  Two days later it was our turn.  "Hope he doesn't see that," we thought.  "Hope he remembers that it is 41 years old and cosmetic blemishes should be expected!"
            Isn't it funny, or not, how our standards change when we are personally involved?  But that has always been the case.  Jesus spoke about it in the Sermon on the Mount.  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. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye (Matt 7:1-5).  Yet somehow, when it's me, things seem so different—even when it is not.
            And so when my neighbor is rude, I reply with rudeness because "he deserves it."  When my co-worker is inconsiderate, I am inconsiderate to him because "why should he expect otherwise?"  When my spouse bites my head off, we preach Ephesians 5 at them, forgetting that both of you are in the middle of a stressful situation or not feeling too good or have lost a parent, or some other event that can have one forgetting to watch his words, and try to be patient.   When the driver ahead of me "gets in my way, goes too slow, forgets to use his turn signal, etc." I can do the same back to him because "he is harming others besides me"—conveniently forgetting the many times I have done the same thing that irritates me.
            And so we go on our way conducting our inspections in the minutest detail while expecting everyone else to inspect us with blinders on.  It has been going on for thousands of years.  Everyone does it, in every culture, in every age.  But our Lord did not call us to be like everyone.  He called us to be like Him.  Even if it is really hard to do.
           
For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy. Mercy triumphs over judgment (Jas 2:13).

Dene Ward

It's like my Heavenly Father knows exactly what I need.  Why should I be so surprised?
            This spring God has sent me all the birds one rarely sees, just one more time as they pass through on their way north.  Goldfinches, bluebirds (that hatched in our own bluebird houses), northern parulas, indigo buntings, red-winged blackbirds, a Cooper's hawk, a yellow bellied woodpecker and a rose-breasted grosbeak.  It took 17 years to see all those birds, usually one or two kinds of those a year along with the usual crowd, and now here they all are, sitting on my water pans and at my feeders.  When I sit at my chair by the window, I already miss them.  Then I look around where my boys played in the big cluster of live oaks they called "the fort," the big oak where they built the doghouse with their Dad, where they swung off the limb 15 feet up (because swinging on a normal limb was not exciting enough), the field where they played football, baseball, basketball, and even croquet, and I get a little weepy.
            And wouldn't you know it—we have been reading through old journals and right now have come upon those we wrote when we first moved to this place.  The memories are flooding back like a dam has broken, not always good ones I must admit.  Many times we wondered if we had made a huge mistake coming here, but now, after all the toil, after all the worry, after all the stress, we understand how much we have grown, how much stronger we are, and what a wonderful home we managed to make for our family—in spite of it all.
            And now we can leave with some pride.  It may not be a mansion.  It isn't even a House Beautiful photo shoot.  We won't even make enough off of it to buy a new place outright and will have mortgage in our old age, something we never intended.  But this time we are sure we can handle whatever happens.  We have handled things you wouldn't even believe, and we can do it all again, if a little more slowly.  All those trials we came through have given us confidence—not in ourselves, but in the God who helped us for so many years before.
            And now He is reminding us with all those little birds—not sparrows, but birds that are rarely seen in any of our neighbors' backyard feeders.  He is watching them, and he is watching us—again.  And with that kind of help, we can make it through anything.
 
The LORD is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O LORD, have not forsaken those who seek you (Ps 9:9-10).
 
Dene Ward

When life hands you a need to move to another location, you suddenly see your home with fresh eyes.
            We have been on this property 38 years.  Our boys were 6 and 8 when we bought this land, so most of their growing up memories are here.  Our pets are buried on this land, several under blooming perennials so we will always know where they lie and can see them from a distance.  Between landscaping the rain flow with a shovel and the boys' little red wagon (we couldn't even afford a wheelbarrow in the early days!), growing an 80 x 80 garden every year, then canning and preserving and pickling all summer, cutting wood for the woodstove which kept our electric bill where we could afford it in the winter, shooting poisonous snakes, marauding bobcats in the chicken pen, and rabid animals, and hauling water for days after every hurricane until the power came back on, we have watered this property with our literal blood, sweat, and tears.  Little by little we fixed it up exactly like we wanted it.  No other manufactured home of this age has a kitchen the size of mine with the umpteen feet of counter space stretched over 17 cabinets and 13 drawers.  And no other has a porcelain-tiled screened porch connected to an oversized carport.  No other has a shower you could have a party in! (We didn't.)
            Then there is the property itself.  Driving down the lane canopied with live oaks makes guests slow down just so they can look around.  In the spring, the entrance to the "yard" portion of our five acres is guarded by azaleas covered with blooms, and the same blooms surround the house.  But let's back up. 
            We start the year with the yellow trumpets of Carolina jessamine in January, followed by azaleas of all shades in late January and throughout February.  The amaryllises begin to open in March.  About that time the climbing roses start in and last a good month before taking a break through the heat.  In April the jasmine nearly knock you over with their fragrance, and the wildflowers show their first color with fire engine red and pink and white phlox.  In May we can count up to 70 day lilies every morning.  The wildflowers will last through June with loads of bright yellow black-eyed Susans finishing up the color parade of red, pink, orange, purple, and yellow that began back in late April.  Then the heat kicks in and things slow down, a few blue plumbago brightening the heat waves rising from the ground and maybe a rose or two and the crepe myrtles.  By October we are back in full swing—mums overflowing their bed, followed by camellias in late November and December, and on we go to the jessamine again in January as the cycle begins anew.  But now…
             Now we will start all over again, with something smaller and nowhere near like we want it, and with very few years left to make it that way.  And it will be in a subdivision!  In the city!  I am certain that when we turn our heads for one last look as we drive down this beautiful lane on our way to a new place and a new life, our eyes will tear up and our throats will tighten.  Most of our lives were lived on this ground and in this far from luxurious home, but it was ours and we loved it.
            And then we will both remember—there is a far better home awaiting us.  One with far more glory than even the billows of colorful blooms, and far more warmth and love than even the memories of little boys climbing trees and chasing balls of all sorts, rolling around on the grass with their beloved yellow lab Bart, gathering eggs, silking the corn before the assembly line of putting it up in the freezer, cheeks full of fresh blueberries along with blue-stained lips and fingers.  Yes, something far better, far more glorious, so far above what we think is special here that we cannot even imagine the truth of it despite God's attempts to describe it in our language.
          And we will never, ever have to drive away, leaving it all behind for someone else who won't realize how precious it all is.  That last home will be our forever home, and that is the only one that really counts.
 
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls (1Pet 1:3-9).
 
Dene Ward