Whenever someone asks how I am doing these days, I usually find myself saying, “All right.”  I understand that “How are you?” is generally a greeting, not a question, but most of the time people are really asking, and I do not want them to be sorry they did.  “All right,” seems to answer the question in all respects without beginning a litany of troubles. Things are not good and may never be again, but I am not now in the middle of another crisis.

Look at that phrase carefully, though.  “All right.”  Isn’t it odd that it has come to mean that things are not “all” right?  Not actually bad, but certainly not “great.”

Do you remember the poem “Pippa’s Song” from Robert Browning’s Pippa Passes?  Actually, all I remember is the last line: “God’s in His Heaven, all’s right with the world.”  The context of that poem is interesting.  Pippa is an orphan in a crime-ridden neighborhood in Asolo, Italy, where even the pillars of the community live lives of moral decadence.  Yet her viewpoint is that, despite all the evil in the world, we can still know that God is in his Heaven, and thus everything is “all right,” in the true meaning of those two words, not their presently understood mediocrity.

Especially if we interpolate a word in there, “God’s back in his Heaven and all’s right with the world,” we Christians can know the same thing. 

God, who became the Son, left Heaven for us, going so far as to give up his equality with God the Father, Phil 2:6.7, suffering the same trials and temptations we do in life, yet refusing to give in to sin, Heb 4:15.  He died a torturous death, Acts 2:23.  Then, just as Satan thought he had won the ultimate victory, it was snatched out of his hands when Jesus rose from the dead, 1 Cor 15:1-8.  Forty days later he ascended back into Heaven, Acts 1:3,9.  And all of that happened so we could be forgiven, so we could live an abundant life here (a spiritual abundance), and so we could have Eternal Life in the hereafter.

So remember today and every day, regardless how your life is going, regardless how you may feel, regardless the horrible tragedies Satan may have unleashed around us, “God’s [back] in his Heaven, and all’s right with the world.”

Therefore let us also, seeing we are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, lay aside every weight of sin that so easily besets us, and run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God, Heb 12:1,2.

Dene Ward

Several years ago, the heel of my right foot became so swollen and sore I could hardly walk, and if I banged it against anything I nearly lost my lunch.  So I needed what the podiatrist called a retrocalcanealexostectomy.  In plain English, they detached the Achilles tendon, removed a wad of extraneous tissue that my body had created to try to pillow the pain, sawed off the back of my heel, which had calcified into a walnut-sized knob, then reattached the tendon with what amounted to a “hollow wall anchor.”  It was nearly a year before I walked normally. 

When they took the cast off the right leg, the difference in the calf muscles was amazing.  Crutches for two months followed by a cane for another two or three, means no exercise, and no exercise equals atrophy.  The right calf was half the size of the left, and totally limp.  For the next four years that did not matter too much; I still had a good left leg.  Then the left foot did the same thing and here we go again—more surgery.

Now I had two wimpy calf muscles.  Guess what you need when you try to reach something on the top shelf and need to stand on your toes?  Guess what it feels like when you try to do that automatically, without thinking, with those sore heels and limp calf muscles?  Yeow!

So for the next few months I worked on getting those muscles back into shape.  The first time I tried toe raises, nothing happened!  I concentrated hard and told myself to stand on tiptoe, and still nothing happened!  So I found some exercises that I could do without trying to stand on my toes, that still made my calf muscles ache and burn.  In a few weeks I actually went up about a half inch off the floor.  Kind of hard to tell with your eyes a little over five feet higher than your feet, but I am pretty sure, based on what I could and could not reach on the top shelf.  Progress!  It wasn’t long till I could tiptoe through the tulips—if we had tulips in Florida.

So how about your spiritual muscles?  You know what?  They atrophy just like those physical muscles.  When was the last time you actually did a real Bible study on your own?  I mean work, with a pen and paper, not just reading commentaries and doing a copy and paste job on your computer.  In education classes they always told us that writing things down was a big key to information retention.  Taking notes makes you hear the words again, saying them in your head as your write; then you feel yourself forming each letter of each word, and see them again after they are written.  The more senses that are involved, the more likely you are to learn and remember. 

Of course, putting knowledge into action is what makes it worthwhile.  There is the meditation, the decision making and actual living based upon your newfound knowledge, and the teaching as you share what you learn.  The more you learn and do, the stronger you become.  Soon you will be tiptoeing through the pages of the Bible with more and more ease, more and more confidence, and more and more ability to live like God wants you to.  Pick up your Bible and exercise a little.

For when by reason of time you ought to be teachers, you have need again that someone teach you the rudiments of the first principles of the oracles of God, and have become such as those who need milk and not solid food.  For everyone who partakes of milk is without experience of the word of righteousness, for he is a baby.  But solid food is for full-grown men, those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern good and evil,   Heb 5:12-14.

Dene Ward

I don’t know how many times I have had someone tell me that my others senses will all improve once I am completely blind.  I just smile and tell them I appreciate their concern.  It is the grateful, loving thing to do, while jumping down their throats and biting their heads off with a sharp retort certainly isn’t.  If they didn’t care so much they wouldn’t try to be helpful, and I am just as responsible for my words as they are for theirs.

As to that comment, it is just a myth.  It isn’t that suddenly your hearing will improve when you can no longer see.  It’s that suddenly you use it to better advantage.  When you could see who was approaching you, you didn’t need to hear the door open, judge the weight of the steps and length of the stride, and determine whose voice it was.  Now you must, so you do.  Even still sighted, I have always seen more than Keith has.  When you have poor vision, you concentrate harder and take care to notice more.  I see signs he never does.  I notice the color of cars and houses.  I know two oak trees flank a driveway, not just one, and I remember that when we go back to someone’s home the second time.  He just looks for the address, numbers I can never see from the car.

All of that made me wonder about our spiritual senses.  Did you know you can find all five mentioned in a figurative context in the Bible?

Jesus had a lot to say about people who are spiritually blind.  For judgment came I into this world, that they that see not may see; and that they that see may become blind. Those of the Pharisees who were with him heard these things, and said unto him, Are we also blind? Jesus said unto them, If you were blind, you would have no sin: but now you say, We see: your sin remains, John 9:39-41. 

The prophets also talk about spiritual blindness.  It isn’t just that some people cannot comprehend God’s word—they blind themselves to it when they do not want to see what it says.  Peter also mentions people who are spiritually near-sighted in 2 Pet 1:9.  You can find more passages about spiritual blindness than any of the other senses, and they should scare us all to death.  Be careful when, in a spiritual discussion, you find yourself uttering the words, “I just can’t see that.”  It may be that you have become spiritually blind.

You could make a similarly long list of passages commanding us to “hear,” “listen,” “hearken,” and “take heed.”  Jesus said in the context of the parable of the sower, “Take heed what you hear,” and also, “Take heed HOW you hear.” 

Just as some are “hard of hearing” physically, the prophets and preachers dealt with those who were hard of hearing spiritually.  Jeremiah and Ezekiel both were told to go preach to a people who would “refuse to hear.”  Do you think it cannot happen to us?  The Hebrew writer warns, “See that you do not refuse him who speaks,” 12:25, and Paul warns of those who have “itching ears.”  Keith has special medicine for exactly that thing.  Too bad it doesn’t work on the spiritually deaf as well.

Do you think you can’t have a spiritual problem with your nose?  For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing, to one a fragrance from death to death, to the other a fragrance from life to life. Who is sufficient for these things? 2 Corinthians 2:15-16.  The point is exactly the same—if you don’t like what becoming a follower of Christ means, it will stink to you, but to those who understand, who comprehend, who hear and see the true nature of things, he will smell wonderful.

The Hebrew writer talks about those who have “tasted the heavenly gift…and the goodness of the word of God” 6:4,5.  If you don’t know people who think the Bible is anything but good, is, in fact, the source of human misery, you haven’t tried too hard to spread it.  Always there are some who take a taste and spit it out with disgust—the same people who cannot see, cannot hear, and cannot smell the sweet aroma of Christ.

And always there are those who cannot feel, whose hearts will never be pricked by the gospel, who are numb to its appeals.  Paul told the Athenians at the Areopagus, And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place, that they should seek God, in the hope that they might feel their way toward him and find him. Yet he is actually not far from each one of us, Acts 17:26-27.  Not many of those people groped their way to the Lord in the end, but a few did.

Did you notice something about all those spiritual senses?  When a physical sense leaves you, you learn to make better use of the ones that remain.  Unfortunately, when a spiritual sense leaves, the rest seem to follow suit.  If you won’t see, then you won’t hear.  You won’t let the grace of God touch your heart.  You won’t enjoy the smell of his sacrifice nor the taste of his love--if you have tasted that the Lord is gracious, 1 Pet 2:3.

Can you imagine a more miserable existence than never seeing a sunset, never hearing the sweet coo of a baby, never tasting a ripe strawberry, never smelling the yeasty aroma of bread fresh from the oven, or never feeling the warm sun on your back?  That’s exactly the kind of lives people live when their spiritual senses don’t work.  But you can fix them all with one easy cure—heal your heart.  God told Ezekiel that if the people repented he would give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. Ezekiel 36:26.  Once your heart can be touched, the other senses will come flooding back into your life, almost overwhelming you with new sensations.

The five physical senses are a wonderful blessing from God.  The spiritual ones are even better.

In that day the deaf shall hear the words of a book, and out of their gloom and darkness the eyes of the blind shall see. The meek shall obtain fresh joy in the LORD, and the poor among mankind shall exult in the Holy One of Israel. Isaiah 29:18-19.

Dene Ward

Most of the time people assume that because I am not in the middle of a crisis, everything is fine with these eyes of mine.  It is difficult to understand that they are surviving on “borrowed time,” that they have outlived the prognosticators, and that any day could be the beginning of the end for my vision.

Occasionally someone still asks about the things I have been through, and I still answer them without thinking--until they begin to shudder, and I take pity and stop.  One experience in particular makes people shrink about half their size as their shoulders draw in and their chins drop to their chests with a groan.  Even the everyday isn’t pleasant.  Eye drops are some of the most painful medications in existence, and an evening headache is par for the course.

“Is it worth it?” some asked.  In fact, one person tried to talk me out of any more surgeries.

Is it worth it?  I began all these procedures before either of my grandsons was born.  Without them, I would never have seen those sweet, tiny faces.  Was it worth the pain and the terror I sometimes felt right before yet another sharp instrument or harsh chemical headed for my eyeballs?  Do I even need to answer that?           My doctor thinks I am strong.  No—I was a grandmother in prospect, and a stubborn one at that.

Some people obviously do not think the Lord is worth any sort of pain at all.  They give up when it gets difficult, and “difficult” can just mean they have problems with relationships, or they must give up activities they enjoy.  They have yet to encounter physical pain; the emotional pain was all it took.

Keith and I have received threats in the mail, threats that the FBI took seriously enough to send an investigator to look into.  We have endured gossip and slander that spread a couple hundred miles.  We came within two days of being homeless because of, as Paul called them, “false brethren.”  Was it worth it? 

As we enter old age, looking to the end is no longer a distant view, and that makes it comforting to know that we have a reward waiting for us precisely because we endured those things.  We have yet to face physical torture, and though I no longer consider that an impossibility in this country, I doubt it will reach that point before we are gone.  To have put up with any sort of pain for the Lord, emotional or otherwise, is a blessing.  Finally I understand how the disciples could “count it all joy” to give up or endure something for the Lord who gave up all for us, even if that something is trivial comparatively speaking.

Was it worth it?  Yes, Heaven is worth it all, but gratitude should ultimately reach the point that merely being able to sacrifice for the Lord is worth even more.  True spiritual maturity revels in seeing our Lord and Savior, not in seeing Paradise; in the ability to serve a God we can see before us, not in being pain- and worry-free forever; in being beside the Father who loves us, not in enjoying one giant eternal party.

Sometimes going through pain in life, pain that has nothing to do with your Christianity, opens your eyes to spiritual things.  Was that physical pain worth it?  Did it give you a longer life?  A better quality of life?  Did it give you more time with your loved ones?  Usually that is enough to make it “worth it.”  Now ask yourself, what can you make it through for the Lord?  Will it be worth it?  God has the ability to make it so, but only you can make the decision to endure.

Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. But let none of you suffer as a murderer or a thief or an evildoer or as a meddler. Yet if anyone suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God in that name. 1 Peter 4:12-16

Dene Ward

All of a sudden I have a lot of magnifying glasses in my house:  a large “Sherlock Holmes” type, another that has a light and fastens to the side of the table, a whole magnifying page that can be laid over a book, and a small one I keep in my purse for fine print in places where I do not want to wrestle with my reading glasses.  Sometimes we are tempted to use spiritual magnifying glasses too, and not always in good ways.

Often verses of the Bible are misinterpreted because of the use of the Middle English in the King James Version.  Even when newer, just as reputable versions come along and put the correct spin on a passage, the old interpretation sticks in the minds of those who learned it as children.  1 Thes 5:22 is one of those verses.  Abstain from all appearance of evil has come to mean that I must not do or say anything that might possibly be construed as wrong to an observer or listener.  “They might think you are __________.”  Fill in the blank with practically anything as long as it is a sin.

Even if I did not have better translations to look at, here is my problem with that interpretation:  it directly contradicts the admonition of love in 1 Cor 13:7—love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things.  When I love someone I must look at what they have said or done and put the best possible construction on it, not the worst, or my love is a hypocritical love in word only, not in deed.  If there is a good way to take what they said, I should take it that way.  If there is a plausible excuse for a slight, I should automatically supply it.  I am not to take out my magnifying glass and search and search until aha!  I have found something I can misconstrue.

Some of the things Jesus did looked awfully wrong to some of the people who saw them!  Remember all those times he healed on the Sabbath?  Even if he could prove the Old Law said nothing about that, the Pharisees could have correctly said, “But what does it look like?”  In fact, one of the rulers told the people, “You can come to be healed six other days in the week.  Why come on the Sabbath?” Luke 13:14.  He had a point, didn’t he?  Why not choose a time when no one would be able to question Jesus’ honoring of the Sabbath?  I can hear some of my brethren making that point exactly, totally ignoring the plight of this “daughter of Abraham,” 13:16.  Don’t you think Jesus described her that way on purpose?  To that ruler she was less important than his traditions, but Jesus made sure he saw her importance in the eyes of God.

In Luke 11 Jesus was invited to a Pharisee’s home for dinner and ignored the ritual hand washing before the meal.  Since it was a ritual offered by every [Pharisee] host, there was no way he could have done it quietly—he openly refused to do it.  In Matt 12 he allowed his disciples to pluck grain on the Sabbath.  In Luke 7 he allowed a sinful woman to touch him.  In Luke 15 the Pharisees and scribes murmured, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.”  And think about this:  God even allowed him to be born only 6 months after his parents married.  Imagine what that looked like.  Imagine what people could have said—in fact what they did say—“We were not born of fornication (John 8:41).”

What 1 Thes 5:22 really means, according to the American Standard Version, is abstain from every form of evil [every shape it takes].  Wherever, whenever, and however evil raises its ugly head, I am to stay away from it.

I need to be very careful.  If I am using my magnifying glass just to find faults in you because of the way I think something might look, I need to throw it away.

Speak not one against another, brethren.  He that speaks against a brother or judges his brother speaks against the law; but if you judge the law, you are not a doer of the law, but a judge.  One is the lawgiver and judge, he who is able to save and destroy, but who are you who judges your brother? James 4:11

Dene Ward

My dog hates taking her medicine.  Whether it is the monthly squirt of heartworm medication or the monthly application of flea and tick preventive, it takes two of us to do it—one to hold her down and the other to do the dirty work.  Not even a treat at the end will dampen her withering glare when it’s over.  We have betrayed her and she makes sure we feel her scorn.

Actually, I think that is pretty normal.  Which is why, when someone I know has tried to admonish a brother and someone else says, “Now he [the sinner] is upset,” I want to say, “Well, duh.”  No one likes to be corrected.  I certainly don’t, no matter how hard the other guy tries to be nice about it.

And no one I know likes to be the corrector.  In spite of what we may hear about all those “bad attitudes” people supposedly have when they correct others, everyone I know approaches the ordeal with fear.  They know they will more than likely lose a friend, be attacked, or wind up with a damaged reputation.  Why is it that when a godly person rebukes a sinner and the results are less than optimal, that we automatically believe the sinner’s version of events, rather than the godly person’s?  That’s not even logical.

So when it comes to taking spiritual medicine, I need to remember three things:

First, be brave.  God says when I see someone in sin and I do not warn them, he will hold me accountable.  When I say to the wicked, O wicked man, you shall surely die, and you do not speak to warn the wicked from his way, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity, but his blood will I require at your hand.  Ezek 33:8.  Regardless of the grief it is likely to cause me, God expects me to care enough about a soul to try anyway.

Second, be charitable in my judgment of a corrector.  Believe that he did his best, and went with the best attitude.  That poor fellow took the risk of a no-win situation because he cared; he deserves my support, not my criticism.  Besides, if I thought I could do better, why didn’t I?

And finally, when it comes my turn to take the medicine, swallow my pride along with the pill, no matter how bitter it is, recognizing that someone cared enough about my eternal destiny to try to help me.  After all, medicine will make you feel better in the end, won’t it?

Brethren, if a man be overtaken in any trespass, you who are spiritual restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness; looking to yourself, lest you also be tempted.  Gal 6:1

Dene Ward

Will the Lord cast off forever?  Will he be favorable no more?  Is his mercy clean gone forever? Do his promises fail for evermore?  Has God forgotten to be gracious?  Has he in anger shut up his tender mercies? Psalm 77:7-9

            I have had some difficult days in the past few years; days when, like the Psalmist, I wondered where God was, and why He had left me.

            I get angry with myself during those times.  At this stage of my walk with Him, this should not happen any more, should it?

            But then I remember standing by my father’s bed in CCU, in a quiet broken only by low murmurs from the nurses’ station, and the beeps, wheezes, and dings of the machinery keeping him alive.  All the tubes and hoses fastened to him were almost more than I could bear to look at, and I usually found myself watching the vitals monitor.  You know what I wanted to see then?  Up and down.  Up and down.  Up and down.  The last thing in the world I wanted to see was a flat line.

            You see, the question isn’t, do you have some down days?  The question is, do you come back up?  A flat-liner is dead.  Ups and downs mean you are dealing with the vagaries of life, some days better than others. They do not mean you have no faith; they just mean you are still alive!  Certainly we shouldn’t experience the wild ups and downs of a rollercoaster ride, but the gentle waves of a rising tide is perfectly natural, waves that lap the shore steadily, reaching further and further inland so that today’s lows are higher than yesterday’s highs. 

            So when you find yourself in the valley, don’t give in. Hang on and pull yourself back up. That’s what matters.  Besides, you are not the only one pulling.  If you were, you would never make it back up.

As for me, I said in my haste,
    I am cut off from before your eyes.
Nevertheless, you heard the voice of my supplications
    When I cried unto you.
Oh love Jehovah, all you saints;
    Jehovah preserves the faithful
But plentifully pays back the proud.
    Be strong and let your heart take courage.
All you who hope in Jehovah.
     Psalm 31:22-24

Dene Ward

I don’t see like you do.  I don’t even see like those of you who have less than perfect vision.  Normal vision has never been a part of my life.  I suppose that’s natural when you have a congenital eye disorder. 

When I was a child, no one ever told my parents exactly what was wrong with me, just, “She has really bad vision.”  As a teenager I began to figure out that it was worse than I thought when my doctor allowed all the student doctors to examine me and give their opinions, then sat back and told them why they were wrong.  Then after I married and we moved out of state, I actually had a doctor tell me he wished I had never walked into his office.  I never did again.

So how do I see?  That groundbreaking surgery on June 13, 2005, which has saved my vision for six extra years now, has left some interesting effects. Depending upon the day, the light, the internal pressure at any particular moment, I have double vision, tunnel vision, blurry vision, foggy vision, white reflections that block most of the view, ghost images, black specks, pale yellow splotches, starbursts, gold concentric circles, a fish-eye lens effect, spinning black and silver pinwheels on the periphery that move toward the front—and shaky equilibrium!    .

But I think that makes me understand Jesus’ statement in Matt 6:22 better than most:  The lamp of the body is the eye; if therefore, your eye is single, your whole body shall be full of light.

Jesus is talking about focus.  What do I focus on, this physical life or the spiritual?  The immediate context is the contrast between spiritual treasures and earthly treasure (v 19,20), God and mammon (v 24), the concern for physical needs versus righteousness and the kingdom (v 31-33). 

I often become distracted by things that get in the way of my vision.  I am down to one eye I am still legal to drive with now, and concentration on the road is important.  I have to consciously make an effort to ignore the specks, the splotches, the circles, the starbursts, the reflections, and on days when the blur is too much, I simply cannot drive if I want to avoid a mishap. 

In the same way it is easy for our spiritual “eye” to become distracted by all the things in front of us, by a concern for wealth, acceptance, and security, but also by necessities like food, clothing, and shelter--things which certainly are not wrong in themselves.  But when that is the thing we focus on, our eye is no longer single but, as Jesus plainly says in verse 23, “evil.”  Sooner or later we will have a spiritual “wreck.”

That is probably where Satan gets the majority of us—we have to provide for our families.  Worrying about that can actually make us do more than we need to, perhaps even push us over into a covetous attitude of always wanting more, not relying on God, and putting Him and his kingdom so far down on the list that we never even get to it any more.  And that means that our “eye” is no longer light but darkness, making us see things in ways that deceive us—we can serve God while we serve this world and its treasures, can’t we?   

Jesus appeals to our common sense.  Two different things cannot be the “most” important.  We have to make a choice—which one comes first?  Which one do we focus on?  Whom do we serve, God or mammon?  

Take it from someone who knows—double vision doesn’t work.

Lay not up for yourselves treasure upon the earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break through and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consume, and where thieves do not break through and steal, for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.  The lamp of the body is the eye; if your eye is single, your whole body shall be full of light.  But if your eye is evil, your whole body shall be full of darkness.  If therefore, the light that is in you becomes darkness, how great is the darkness!  No man can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will hold to one and despise the other.  You cannot serve God and mammon.  Matt 6:19-24

Dene Ward

I had sat there for hours like I always do, occasionally undergoing a test or other procedure, waiting for the doctor to finally reach my chart, along with a dozen or more other patients who also sit for hours every time we go to the Eye Clinic.  But this time was different.

An older woman and her husband sat next to me.  As often happens, we began to talk, usually about how long we have been waiting, the longest we have ever had to wait, and the various distances we all travel to see this world renowned, and incredibly skillful doctor we share.  Then she said four words, “I have a shunt,” and everything changed.

My head whirled around, riveted to her face and especially her eyes.  “You do?”

“Yes, two actually.”

“I have one, too,” I said, excitement creeping into my voice.

Her eyes instantly lit up.  “You do?” and there followed an hour of, “Do you have trouble with depth perception?  Do you see circles?  Does it ache?”  One question followed another, both of us nodding to one another and saying, “Yes, yes. Me too!”

Finally someone understands, finally someone knows how I feel (both of us were thinking). 

Someone understands how odd your vision can be; how colors have changed, how light “gets in the way;” how you can’t tell when a curb is a step up or step down or any step at all; how riding in the passenger seat makes vehicles in front of you look much closer; how many strange things can go wrong with an eyeball after what seems to the world like an easy surgery—why, you didn’t even have to stay in the hospital so how could it be serious? Someone else understands how much pain eye drops can cause, and how all those beta blockers can wreak havoc with your stamina; how careful you have to be when doing something as simple as wiping your eye because of all the hardware inside and on top of it; how inappropriate the remark, “I hope you get better soon,” is because there is no hope for better, just a hope that it will not get worse too soon; and someone else knows the feeling that any day could be the day that it all blows up.

We sat there talking like close personal friends.  Occasionally she looked over at her husband and said, “You see?  I’m not crazy after all,” and he nodded, a bit patronizingly I thought, but we had developed such a quick and strong bond that perhaps I was just feeling protective.

We were both called to separate exam rooms but when I left, I waved across the hall and wished her well.  I never got her name, nor she mine.  Strange, I guess, but we never felt the need to ask personal questions—we felt like we had known one another for years, and all because we felt the kinship of understanding what each of us was experiencing when no one else did.

No matter what you are going through today, you have a friend just like that.  God emptied Himself to become a man and experience what you experience, feel what you feel, and suffer what you suffer.  He did that precisely so He could understand.  I always knew that, but now I really know how quickly a bond can form simply because of that shared experience. 

But what if I had never responded to the woman’s simple statement about a shunt?  What if I had just sat there and done nothing?  That bond would never have formed.  It takes a response to the offer to gain the reward.  It takes a willingness to open up and share with the Lord the things you are feeling.  Yes, He already knows, but you will never feel the closeness of that bond until you share with Him as well.

That day it felt like I had found, not a new friend, but a long, lost friend from the past.  When it happens that fast, it can’t be a complete stranger, can it?  Why don’t you turn around and talk to the Man next to you today and find out for yourself?

Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery…Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted, Heb 2:14-18.

Dene Ward

Last year I read a book that proved by extensive research of ancient writings that mainstream Protestant belief is completely different from the beliefs of the apostles and the first century church.  The author wrote page after page quoting men who were companions or students of the apostles, men who knew firsthand what Peter, Paul, John, and the others believed.  You would think that by the end of the book the man would have taught himself straight into restoring the New Testament church.  But no, he stopped short.  In fact, he said it was impossible to restore the real thing, and the doctrines he had chosen to attack were only a few.  He never questioned his own desire to keep a few of those “heretical” -isms for himself. 

I thought about that this morning and went on a rambling train track of other doctrines.  Finally, I hit the premillenial kingdom.  Do you realize that no one even heard of that until the mid-1800s?  How can we possibly believe that the men who stood by the Lord as He proclaimed His kingdom and the others who learned directly from them could have missed it?  How can it be that everyone in the next 1800 years was wrong? 

The problem with that doctrine is the same one the apostles first had.  They thought that the kingdom was a physical one, one that included physical armies that would destroy Rome and install a Jewish Messiah on the throne in Jerusalem.  Even they should have known better.  The prophet Jeremiah prophesied that no descendant of Jeconiah (a Davidic king shortly before the captivity) would ever reign in Jerusalem, Jer 22:28-30.  That includes the Messiah.

Finally those men got it, and they fought that carnal notion of anything physical, or even future, about the kingdom for the rest of their lives.  John made it plain that he was in that kingdom, even while he sat on the isle of Patmos writing the book of Revelation, 1:9.  We are in a spiritual kingdom, one where we win victories by overcoming temptation and defeating our selfish desires, one where two natural enemies, like a lion and a lamb, can sit next to each other in peace because we are all “one in Christ Jesus.”

The belief in a physical kingdom here on this earth?  Isn’t that a bit like an astronaut candidate stepping out of a training simulation and proclaiming, “I just landed on the moon?”  Our inheritance is far better than a physical earth--it is “incorruptible, undefiled, [one] that fades not away, reserved in Heaven,” 1 Pet 1:4.  Why should I want something on this earth when I can have that? 

But it will be newly created, you say?  No, Jesus said my reward is already created, “from the foundation of the world,” Matt 25:34.

It will last a thousand years?  Then what?  We cease to exist?  No, no, no.  I was promised “eternal life” Matt 19:29; 25:46; John 3:16; 4:14; 5:24; 6:40; 10:28; Rom 2:7; 5:21; 6:23; 1 Tim 6:12, and—well, there are dozens more, but surely that makes the point.  No wonder no one in the first 18 centuries after Christ lived believed such a doctrine.

We are supposed to have matured in Christ, to have gone beyond the belief in a material, physical kingdom, just as those apostles finally did.  Our kingdom is one in transit.  It may not look like much to the unbeliever, but we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:18.  We have a kingdom right now far greater than anything a mortal man can dream up.  It’s just that only those with spiritual eyesight can see it. 

But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable hosts of angels, and to the general assembly and church of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel…At that time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, "Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens…Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire. Hebrews 12:22-29.

Dene Ward