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 ye 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

After one particular surgery a few years ago, I had bled far more than the surgeon expected.  I needed a transfusion, he said, but given the state of the world these days, and the fact that a couple pints would have done the job, he took the conservative approach instead.  For the next few months I took a prescription iron pill, one more easily absorbed by the body than the over the counter varieties.  I don’t claim to know the entire effects of “running a quart low,” but I do know this.  I started every day tired and it only got worse.  And I was constantly cold.  Even though it was summer in Florida, I was wrapped in a blanket most of the time.

            Aside from the obvious Biblical applications about atoning blood, I find another worth mentioning.  John 6 is not about the Lord’s Supper.  John 6 is about commitment. 

            A sizable crowd had begun following Jesus on a regular basis.  They had been hanging around long enough to see several miracles, hear several parables, even be fed at his hand from five small loaves of bread and a couple of fish.  It was time, Jesus decided, to ask them to be more than hangers on, more than groupies enamored with the publicity of the local celebrity.

            Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. 6:53-55.

            Far from believing he meant this literally, I think when they said things like, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” they were just trying to avoid the obvious.  They were not in this for the long haul.  They didn’t want to get that involved.  They just wanted something fun and interesting to do for a few days.

            Jesus forced them to a decision.  This is not something you can do half-heartedly.  This is not something you can do while giving a lot of yourself to something else too.  I must be your sustenance, he was saying to them.  Nothing else should matter to you. 

            And they knew exactly what he meant. After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him, v 66. 

            I am afraid some of us are not even that honest.  We want to pretend we are living off the Lord, eating and drinking him night and day, when it is merely a pleasant pastime on the weekends, a source of comfort should a family member become ill, and a handy group for wedding and baby showers.  (Truly, truly, I say to you, you are seeking me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves, v 26.)  The Lord tells us we might as well leave with the rest of the crowd.

            Why?  Because when we are running a quart low of Jesus, we will be too weak to withstand temptations and trials.  When we are running a quart low, our zeal will eventually grow cold.  We need as much of him as we can hold to overcome, to grow, and to change our characters, ready to live faithfully even to the point of death.  We cannot do it any other way. 

            Lev 17:11 says, “The life of flesh is in the blood.”  I have a new appreciation of that fact since that long summer of anemia.  Don’t make yourself spiritually anemic, and then expect God to reward you with eternal life.
 
As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like the bread the fathers ate and died. Whoever feeds on this bread will live forever." John 6:57,58.
 
Dene Ward

A couple of years back one of my “world’s first” surgeries left me seeing spinning black and silver pinwheels, especially in bright light.  My Cincinnati doctor was convinced I had a congenital brain blood vessel malformation which would require brain surgery to correct.  The only way to know was an MRI, something I had never had before.  I left the house with little concern.  As much as I had already been through, what could be worse?

            So I was not prepared for the nurse to put a helmet on me that completely covered my face, stuffing it with dark gray foam to keep my head still.  In about 5 seconds I was clawing at it, grunting, “off, off, off, off, off,” increasing in volume and speed as I went.  She took it off immediately.  “Are you claustrophobic?” she asked. 

            Yes I am.  One of the worst parts about many of the procedures I have had to go through with these sick eyeballs is the sheet over my face.  The only way I manage is to prepare beforehand, then steel myself all the way through the procedure for as long as three hours at a time.  But in this case no one had warned me so I was not ready.
           
             I remembered that episode recently when I was studying 2 Cor 5:11.  Knowing therefore the fear of the Lord, we persuade men… Lately it has been anathema to talk about fear and God in the same sentence.  “Fear” has become “reverential awe,” or the even more mealy-mouthed “respect.”  “God doesn’t want us to be afraid of Him,” pops up in every conversation on the subject.  So I decided to check this word out.

            As I often do, I checked several translations.  The King James gave me a big clue in the above passage.  Knowing therefore the terror of the Lord…  Somehow “terror” does not easily lend itself to the idea of simple respect.  After that I looked up the word in a concordance.  “Fear” in the Greek is “phobos.”  Do you see it?  We get our English word “phobia” from that one.  The definition in Vine’s Expository Dictionary of New Testament Words is “that which scares you enough to make you run away.  In the gospels it is always associated with dread and terror.”  Do you have a real phobia?  Would you call that horrible feeling that turns you into a whimpering coward, “respect?”

            Next step in study--how else is it used in the Bible? 
Matt 10:28--And fear not them which kill the body but are not able to kill the soul, but rather fear Him who is able to destroy both body and soul in hell.
Matt 27:54-- Now when the centurion, and they that were with him, watching Jesus, saw the earthquake, and those things that were done, they feared greatly, saying, Truly this was the Son of God. If you suddenly figured out that you had just killed the Son of God, would you be feeling respect or terror?

            And in the Septuagint?

Psalm 55:5--Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me, and horror has overwhelmed me.

Isa 19:16-- In that day shall the Egyptians be like unto women; and they shall tremble and fear because of the shaking of the hand of Jehovah of hosts...

            I found many, many more passages that clearly show the meaning of phobos.  So when Peter tells us to “fear God” in 1 Peter 2:17, the fact that the word is the same one, helps me to understand that real fear, the kind that makes you run away and hide, is an appropriate reaction to God, even from His own people.

            Yes, God does want a relationship borne of love as motivation, but there is nothing second rate about the fear motivation.  Just in case the love is not enough, for the times when temptation is strong and we are weak, remember the fear.  Paul did in the passage we started with.  He knew the terror that awaited those who do not know God and it motivated him to preach.  Are we any better than that great disciple? 

            If you do not “get it,” if you do not understand who and what God really is-- our Creator, the most powerful Being, the one who, with one thought, could cause you to cease to exist--you will never really have the proper respect either.  It most certainly is not the same respect you have for your earthly father.  Even your “reverential awe” will be incomplete, and you will certainly never understand how amazing it is that such a Being could ever love us like He does.
 
A man that has set aside the law of Moses dies without compassion on the word of two or three witnesses: of how much sorer punishment, do you think, shall he be judged worthy, who has trodden under foot the Son of God, and has counted the blood of the covenant wherewith he was sanctified an unholy thing, and has done despite unto the Spirit of grace? For we know him that said, Vengeance belongs unto me, I will recompense. And again, The Lord shall judge his people. It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God, Heb 10:28-31.
 
Dene Ward

This morning I kept swatting at a pesky gnat that would not go away until I realized it was just another floater.  Usually light reflects back from your retina through the transparent vitreous humor.  With age, the vitreous humor (aka eyeball jelly) can begin to solidify into tiny little chunks that cast a shadow forward, making it seem that spots are floating out in front of, not inside, your eyeball.

            However, trauma can cause floaters too—surgeries followed by complications followed by treatment for the complications, in my case hundreds of lasers zaps.  Pieces of the retina come loose and float in the humor casting the same shadows as the less ominous floaters.  Now that one eye has a “shallow detached retina” which not even some of the best doctors in the world want to try to fix until it completely detaches, too much exertion can cause that small detachment to tug yet more pieces of retina loose.

            Yet at one point there was one good thing about floaters.  I could easily gauge my eye pressure with them.  Normally there is no way to know that your pressure is increasing until it is almost too late.  By the time your vision has clouded over, your head is aching, and your innards are heaving themselves inside out, it is a real emergency.

            It’s not supposed to work that way, but for me, at least in the early stages of this eye crisis, it proved an early warning system:  If a floater stayed for days, I needed to make an appointment immediately.  Floaters can make me dizzy and a little nauseated, besides being just plain annoying, but the warning was worth it.  Imagine if I had not gone in the third day I had the same floater in exactly the same place.  Normal pressure is roughly 10-18, without medication.  When I got to the eye clinic the pressure in that eye was 65, even with heavy medication.  I had no idea except for that persistent floater. 

            I think spiritual floaters are the same way.  I hear people berating themselves because they wrestle with a certain problem.  You know what?  At least they know the problem is there. Too many times we ignore the “floaters” and go right along thinking we are just fine.  That little spot isn’t important; it certainly won’t cost me my soul.  Won’t it?  If I see it there and don’t even try to fix it, doesn’t that make me a willful sinner?  And if I don’t even recognize it when it is there, isn’t that even more dangerous?

            Yes, floaters are aggravating.  But in the past they gave me a way to know what I needed to do and when I needed to do it.  I knew better than to ignore them.  I still have floaters, but they don’t work like that any longer, and I really wish they did.

            Do you see any floaters in your spiritual life? Keep an eye on them.  Get help when you need it.  If “struggling” is where you are, be glad your conscience is still sensitive and be grateful for God’s grace working in your life.  It’s the ones who aren’t struggling who need to worry.
 
And everyone who strives in the games exercises self-control in all things.  Now they do it to receive a corruptible crown, but we an incorruptible.  I therefore so run, as not uncertainly; so fight I as not beating the air; but I buffet my body daily and bring it into bondage lest by any means after I have preached to others, I myself should be rejected, 1 Cor 9:25-27.
 
Dene Ward

But solid food is for full-grown men, even those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern good and evil, Heb 5:14.
 
            I was amazed to find out that “full-grown” is more often translated “perfect,” at least in the ASV.  That is ironic to me, because while I will quickly say, “I am not perfect,” I would find myself a little miffed if I were called “spiritually immature.”  At my age?  Surely I am a mature Christian by now.
            So I looked up that Greek word and the places it is translated “perfect.”  It quickly became apparent that the word does not mean “sinless.”  While we understand that the meaning of a word varies according to its context in English, we seem to forget that when it comes to reading the Bible and talking about those Hebrew and Greek words.  Yet, in any language, the meaning of a word is limited by its use.  And so I read “mature” in every passage I found that word translated “perfect,” and found out how to recognize a mature Christian. [When you read all these passages, be sure to read “spiritually mature” every time you see “perfect.”]
            The maturity level of a Christian is shown by how he treats his enemies (Matt 5:43-48), by how he controls his tongue (James 3:2), by how attached he is to his earthly possessions (Matt 19:21).  A mature Christian is not easily deceived, not changeable from day to day, and speaks from a motivation of love, even when correcting someone, not from a desire for revenge, or from a feeling of arrogance, and certainly not to cause controversy for the sake of controversy (Eph 4:13-15).  A mature Christian will endure, (James 1:4), and in fact, stand fully assured of his salvation (Col 4:12).  When I look at those characteristics I can see that I have a way to go before I finally grow up, but at least I have some detailed areas to work on now instead of blindly aiming for some sort of vague idea of maturity or perfection.
            One of the residents at the medical school recently told me that I did not look as old as my chart said I was.  That was a nice moment in the day, one totally unexpected.  Wouldn’t if be awful though, if he had said that I didn’t act as old as I was?  That is where the test comes—not in how long I have been a Christian, but in how much I have grown as one.
 
So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us.  God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him. By this is love [made mature] with us, that we may have confidence in the day of judgment, because as he is so also are we in this world, 1 John 4:16,17.
           
Dene Ward

I am still walking on that elliptical machine I told you about a few years ago.  With another measureable loss of vision lately, it becomes more and more the only safe way to exercise—you don’t step in any holes or trip over limbs or vines on an elliptical machine

            I stepped off one day a couple of months ago and looked at the read-out.  It informed me that I had “walked” three and a half miles in 30 minutes.

            “Wow,” I thought.  “Not bad.”  And then I thought to myself, “Wait a minute.”  Thirty years ago I only managed five miles in 48 minutes JOGGING.  That’s over nine minutes a mile.  And thirty years later I am supposed to believe I beat that rate WALKING?

            “Hmppph,” I muttered with my new perspective, “If that’s true, I’m a Martian.”

            Looking at myself through the eyes of cold clear logic, I cut the read-out figures almost in half.  Maybe I managed two miles—maybe.  I don’t have much faith in that read-out now.

            But—can I be just as clear-headed when I examine my heart?  Can I see with cool logic that my words and thoughts give me away?  For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks, Matt 12:34.  Can I see the flaws, the weak spots, the chinks in my armor?

            Believing the best about myself may seem “healthy. “   It may feel good.  It may give me a boost, and surely it’s more important to be encouraged than depressed, isn’t it?  Spiritual buoyancy is not the way to Heaven.  In fact, it will lead you the other direction quickly. 

I need to see clearly.  Deluding myself about my faults won’t fix my soul any more than walking two miles will burn the same calories as walking three and a half.  And one is a whole lot more important than the other.
 
Let no one deceive himself. If anyone among you thinks that he is wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise, 1Cor 3:18
 
Dene Ward

Not too many weeks ago when I had a check-up with the cornea specialist, she discovered that my vision had decreased markedly and my eye pressure had more than doubled.  My other doctor, the one who deals with the rare things, was away, so she made an appointment for his next available opening, less than a week from then.  They gave me the time and day and said, “Will that work?”

            This has been a long journey with a lot of pain and anxiety, but I was relatively calm.  If I became hysterical every time I received a bad report, I would have completely worn myself out by now.  But maybe that is why they felt the need to ask—to make sure I was taking things seriously.  “I will make it work,” I told them.  If it had meant canceling a dozen other plans or walking the whole thirty miles I would have made it work.

            Too many times we don’t take our sin seriously.  We act like it is no big deal, except big enough to get mad at anyone who might actually point out our faults.  We know enough to say “I am not perfect,” but certainly let us not admit a specific fault under any circumstance.  Do we think it will simply go away?

            If I had ignored my appointment, the pressure would not have gone down.  It would have risen to the point that I lost my vision almost immediately, instead of over the long haul.  So why do we think ignoring our sins will make them go away?

            Israel did the same thing in the Old Testament.  Though there were priests and prophets who could heal their spiritual ailments, they not only ignored them, they persecuted them and even killed them.  Along came the later generations of the New Testament, and they killed their Physician too. 

            How ridiculous is it when people will not take their medicine just because it tastes bad, and so they become sicker, or even die?  And how ridiculous is it when we will not take care of our spiritual illnesses just because we are too proud to admit we might be wrong about something?

            Yet they both happen.  I would say, though, that most of us take our physical lives far more seriously than the spiritual.  One day we will understand how misplaced those priorities are.  I hope that bit of wisdom comes soon enough.
 
For the wound of the daughter of my people is my heart wounded; I mourn, and dismay has taken hold on me. Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then has the health of the daughter of my people not been restored? Jer 8:21,22.
 
Dene Ward

Leprosy was the most feared disease in the Bible.  It wasn’t just the impending death.  Other diseases were terminal.  But leprosy was the disease that killed your life before you ever died.
 
           The first mention of leprosy in historical documents was about 1500 BC.  The Bible mentions it as early as the book of Leviticus where its description and treatment are listed in chapters 13 and 14.  As the centuries progressed, most doctors considered leprosy a genetic disease.  Finally on February 28, 1873, Dr. Gerhard Henrik Armauer Hansen of Sweden discovered the bacillus that caused leprosy, proving once and for all that it was indeed an infectious disease, and eventually giving his name to it: Hansen’s disease.  The Bible seemed to realize from the beginning that it was infectious.

            A leper was considered ceremonially “unclean,” Lev 13:46.  That means he was no longer fit to even stand before God, much less serve Him.  If he were a priest, he could not partake of the sacrifices, Lev 22:4.  But no matter who he was, he was banned from the Temple, 2 Chron 26:21, and expelled from the people because his mere presence defiled the entire group, Num 5:2,3.

            He lived in isolation with others who shared his doom, and was required to warn anyone who might come near him with the shout of, “Unclean!  Unclean!” He had to make his disease obvious by his appearance, wearing torn clothes and leaving his hair loose and disheveled, with his upper lip covered, Lev 13:45.

            Leprosy became a metaphor for sin in the Bible, as should be obvious from the verses cited above and their spiritual significance-not fit to serve God, not fit to enter into His presence, not fit to be with His people, in fact, one who would defile the whole people.  God sent leprosy as a punishment several times—on Miriam, on Gehazi, on King Azariah/Uzziah.  The progress of the physical disease begins with an invisible infection, leading to disfigurement, deterioration, and death.  Surely you can see the progress of sin in a person’s life in parallel.

            And that leaves us with two profound lessons.  First, for Jesus to actually touch a leper and heal Him showed not only his power but also his mercy.  And Jesus is the only one who can cure us of that disease called sin.  He was the one who loved us enough to come down among all of us spiritual lepers, regardless of the danger of infection, and make us clean.  How many of us are like the nine lepers instead of the Samaritan, who was so profoundly grateful for being cleansed that he would fall on his face in gratitude to the one who cleansed him, even if it delayed his symbolic entrance back into the fold?

            And second, we should view sin as we view that awful disease.  Too many times I see Christians who flock to other diseased (sinful) people, heedless of the risk of infection, in fact, hoping for it, rather than treating it like the life-endangering disease it is.  Yes, we need to serve the sinners--by leading them home to the Great Physician, not by trying on their clothes, eating from their bowls, and rolling around in their beds. Sin, like leprosy, will make us outcasts from God, the only source of a cure.  Don’t we realize that, or is it that we long to be lepers like the rest of the world?
 
And behold, a leper came to him and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, if you will, you can make me clean.” And Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, saying, “I will; be clean.” And immediately his leprosy was cleansed, Matt 8:2-3.
 
Dene Ward

I was a teenager and remember the drama well.  On Dec 3, 1967, Dr Christiaan Barnard performed the first human heart transplant.  Louis Washkansky, a grocer from South Africa, received the heart of Denise Darvall, an automobile accident victim who had been declared brain dead.  The transplant was a success.  Mr. Washkansky’s body did not reject the organ and it functioned well.  However, 18 days later he died of complications, in this case double pneumonia.  Still, it was a medical milestone and that operation has gone on to become a viable treatment for many heart patients.
 
           Heart transplants, though, have been going on for thousands of years.  God has always required them.  What is repentance but the removal of an old sinful heart and the replacement of a completely new one?  . And I will give them one heart, and a new spirit I will put within them.  I will remove the heart of stone from their flesh and give them a heart of flesh, that they may walk in my statutes and keep my rules and obey them.  And they shall be my people, and I will be their God, Ezek 11:19,20.

            Too many times repentance is only skin deep.  We force ourselves to stop the old life and struggle every day to live the new one.  God wants us to rip out that old, stony heart and replace it with one that not only performs righteous deeds, but wants to perform them, wants to please Him, and wants to live as a follower of His Son.  It is so much easier to do right when the motivation is righteousness itself.

            But let’s be practical.  Sometimes the zeal wanes.  Sometimes we hit rough spots in the road and our desire to do right falters.  Temptation can overtake even the strongest.  Does that mean I have not made a new heart within me?  Not really.  How does that heart feel when it realizes it has fallen?  Maybe that is the telling point.  In his psalm of repentance after his atrocious sins David says, “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise,” not long after he begs God to, “Create in me a clean heart,” (Psalm 51:17 and 10).  It seems even a completely new heart can gather a little grime once in awhile, so do not be conquered by depression when you fail.

            If, however, you have not replaced that old heart with a new one, if you find yourself not only giving into temptation often but looking for the chance to and caring only whether or not you get caught, maybe you still have an old heart.  Maybe your soul rejected the new one. 

            God knows whether you had a heart transplant or not, and whether that surgery achieved its goal.  It may often be a painful operation, but it has a great record of success.  Lots of folks live forever.
 
Cast away from you all your transgressions, wherein you have transgressed; and make you a new heart and a new spirit: for why will you die, O house of Israel?  For I have no pleasure in the death of him who dies, says the Lord Jehovah: wherefore turn yourselves, and live, Ezek 18:31,32..
 
Dene Ward

Many years ago a young doctor decided to try contact lenses on my nanophthalmic, hyperopic/aphakic, corrugated, football-shaped eyeballs.  Everyone told him he was crazy, that it was impossible.  Somehow, amid all the discouraging words, he managed to make it work.  For the first time in my life I could see more than the fish-eyed tunnel in front of me. 

            These were the original hard contact lenses.  He had sat me down and told me that the only way I could possibly wear them in my “special” eyes was to want to wear them.  I did not realize till much later how wise he had been.  They were incredibly uncomfortable, especially on my deformed eyeballs, but I saw so much more that I knew I would never give them up regardless the pain.

            Seven years later rigid gas-permeable lenses became available through overseas channels.  They were a tiny bit more comfortable, but more important, they kept my eyes healthier.  I wore those for thirty-five years.  Finally a type of soft lens has been developed that I can actually wear with no ill-effects.  Not only that, but they cause no strange visual effects either—no starbursts, no fish-eyes, no distortions at all.  It seems ironic that they have come now when my vision is failing and when only one eye can tolerate wearing one, but I am not complaining.

            I have had to learn different methods of insertion, removal, and overnight care.  This thing is so much more comfortable that sometimes I am not certain it is in.  The many surgeries I have had have changed me from hyperopic to myopic, and my vision, even with the lens, is not perfect.  That is why I did not realize for about an hour that I did not have the lens in my eye the other morning. 

            At first, when the usual blur did not clear up right away, I thought it was just one of those days when I was not going to see well.  They happen often enough.  Finally I put my finger to my eyeball and touched only eyeball—I knew the lens had not made it into my eye.  So where was it?

            I ran back to the bathroom, got on my hands and knees and felt across the floor from the door to the vanity cabinet, the only way I could possibly find it down there.  No lens.  At least I knew I wasn’t going to step on it.  So I stood up and I felt across the entire vanity countertop.  No lens. 

            Finally I took the hand towel off the rack.  I always open the lens case over a towel because of the fluid in it.  I felt one side of the towel and then turned it over.  Still no lens, but when I picked up the towel again, there was the lens under it, finally having fallen off the towel with a tiny little “clink.” It was as solid as one of my old hard lenses.  That nice soft lens material had dried up even in the humid bathroom air.

            I soaked it in saline a couple of hours and it came back to life.  Finally I could see again, at least as well as I ever do these days.

            I came across a passage the other day. The light of the wicked shall be put out, and the spark of his fire shall not shine. His strength shall be hunger-bitten, and calamity shall be ready at his side. His roots shall be dried up beneath, and above shall his branch be cut off. His remembrance shall perish from the earth, and he shall have no name in the street, Job 18:5, 12, 18, and 19.

            Trying to live your life without Christ will dry you up.  I do not understand how people who do not have the hope He offers can handle life’s problems, and especially how they can handle dying.  They have nothing to live for, and certainly nothing to die for.

            We have said it over and over.  The grace of God not only gives you salvation, it helps you overcome temptation, bear tragedies, and face death.  If I turn into a dried up, bitter old woman, it is because somewhere along the line I refused to make use of that grace. 

            I wince, thinking about the pain I would have felt if I had tried to put that desiccated contact lens into my eye.  We sometimes go about with pain that we needn’t bear.  A good long soak in the grace and goodness of God makes it possible to live this life to the fullest and look forward to the one to come.
 
Jesus stood and cried, saying, If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink. He that believes on me, as the scripture has said, from within him shall flow rivers of living water, John 7:37,38.
 
Dene Ward