Two year old Silas has a funny way of asking us to put him down.  “Oh the down,” he says wistfully with a sigh that communicates far beyond his years.  If we don’t do it fast enough, he squirms to the point that we put him down in self-defense.  At nearly thirty pounds now, he is getting a little too heavy for this grandma to handle without his cooperation.  The eye surgeon probably wouldn’t be too happy either.

            I would hold him longer if he would let me.  I would hold him all day and all night.  I can’t get enough of holding him, in fact, but I don’t want to make him stay in my arms.  Holding a prisoner is not the same as holding a cherished grandchild.

            Too many folks have the wrong idea about the security of the believer.

            My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: and I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, and no one shall snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father's hand, John 10:27-29.

            As long as we stay in God’s hand, we are safe.  He will not allow us to be tempted more than we can stand.  He will give grace that not only forgives our sins, but helps us through the storms of life.  Nothing can separate us from the love of God, Paul reminds the Romans in 8:39.  There is your security of the believer.

            But God will hold no prisoners.  As soon as we start squirming, as soon as we wistfully sigh, “Oh the down,” he will let us go.  Unlike aging grandparents, he could hold on to us, but God wants a child who wants to be in his arms, not one who kicks and screams and begs to be let go. We will have no one to blame but ourselves if we lose our souls. 

            For if, after they have escaped the defilements of the world through the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, they are again entangled in them and overcome, the last state has become worse for them than the first. 2 Pet 2:20.
            You know what?  Many times after I put him down, Silas comes running back.  “Grandma!” he says with arms held up high, and I will pick him up gladly, even if my back does complain a bit.  There is yet another bit of security.  God will pick us up when we come back, eager to be held again in his loving arms.  It is entirely up to us whether we stay there.
 
Who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time, 1 Pet 1:5.
 
Dene Ward

The kids were on the way that day.  Most important of all, Silas was.  Keith did not want me to wear myself out before he even got here so he said, “Don’t do anything--rest.  You have a grandson coming.  Besides, he’ll just make a mess anyway, so why bother spending time cleaning up?”

            Pondering that, I realized that God didn’t think that way.  He made a beautiful garden for his children.  He made everything perfect.  It was all “very good.”  What if he had said, “They’re only going to make a mess of it anyway, so why should I bother?”

            He bothered for the same reason I did—love.  He wanted his children (and grandchildren) to walk with him in a clean and pretty place, a place they would enjoy being and maybe want to stay just a little longer. 

            So I did spend some time sweeping floors, putting up breakables, setting out the little wooden rocking horse, stuffed animals, and crayons, and filling the cookie jar with homemade cookies. 

            God did all of that for us too, in a metaphorical sense, hoping we would like the place so much that we would want to stay as long as possible.  Yes, I know.  He had a plan just in case we made a mess, but I keep a broom and a mop too.  So?

            Sometimes looking at how God might view things in the same way we might look at them helps us to see how he feels.  Sometimes knowing the pain we might have felt if we were on the receiving end of selfish children can make us be just a little bit better.  Knowing the trouble we go to because we love our children and grandchildren so much shows us just how much we can hurt an All-Powerful Being.  That’s what makes the true God so different from the gods of myth.  He is willing to be hurt by us.  He will make himself vulnerable on our behalf.  The next time you go out of your way for special guests in your home, and it is neither noticed or appreciated, remember how God feels when you do the same to him.          

            Today, enjoy the special things God has made for you, and be sure to thank him.  Someday he wants to walk with us again in that perfect place he has prepared “from the foundation of the world,” and this time there won’t be any messes to clean up.
 
Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him! Matt 7:7-11.
 
Dene Ward

Today’s post is by guest writer Keith Ward.
 
I am not noted for my patience unless you count the fact that bodies are not strewn in my wake through the day. I am no more patient with myself than with others. I have a 3 way plug on the end of the drop cord that comes to the carport from the shed. It runs the blower and, on summer mornings, the 18" fan that cools us and keeps the bugs blown away while we have our third cup of coffee. So, today, I needed it for the blower and instead of unplugging the fan, I unplugged the drop cord from the 3 way--for about the 43rd time in the last month. "YOU WOULD THINK YOU WOULD KNOW BETTER BY NOW!!” I muttered....well, given my hearing and that I had ear-plugs in to preserve some of the remainder of it from the blower, who knows how loud I was. As I plugged it back in and began blowing off the screened porch and carport, I thought that perhaps, just maybe, now and then, God feels that way about me--"He ought to know better than that by now!"
 
I can quote a lot more scripture than I can live: I have known the line, “as we forgive those who trespass against us,” for about 55 years. Yet I pray forgiveness of things I knew better than to do and get impatient with people who merely do irritating things in traffic.

I pray he just plugs me back in and proceeds with whatever chore I am suitable for.

Maybe, I need to remember that with others? I suspect I would have fired a worker who made the same mistake that many times? How about the brethren?
 
Maybe I need to quit praying or get real about being patient?
 
 
​For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, ​but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses. Matt 6:14-15
 
 
Keith Ward

I sat by the window today and marveled at the birds that had come to my feeder—the usual cardinals, titmice and chickadees, plus two kinds of doves, a wren, four catbirds, dozens of sparrows, a small flock of brown-headed cowbirds, a painted bunting, two goldfinch couples, a few pine warblers, a yellow-rumped warbler, new to the group this year, and a hummingbird buzzing above them all at his own special watering hole.  All these on the same day and that’s not all just in the past week.  We even had a ring-nosed gull drop by yesterday.

            What may be the most satisfying is seeing those we can recognize from times past.    Remember the cardinal with the broken wing?  (Check the July 2014 archives.)  He kept coming back for well over a year.  It has only been the past month or so that we haven’t seen him and it may well be he has lived out his lifespan, but he lived it far longer and better for coming here to fill his plate, heal, and grow strong again.  His wing was never quite straight after his mishap, but it grew plenty strong enough to fly him where he needed to go. He wasn’t the first sad and sick bird we have had.  If you have been with me awhile, you may remember the one-legged sparrow, and the brewer’s blackbird that was left behind when her flock flew northwest again—she was too sick to join them.

            I wonder what God sees when He looks out on His “feeder.”  We forget, I’m afraid, what our lives were like when we decided to take Him up on His offer.  It is too easy, when life has taken a good turn and we are so much healthier in spirit, to think it might possibly have been our own doing.  He is the one who comforted our mourning, who gave us a “garland” to replace our “ashes,” who took away our “spirits of heaviness” and gave us the “oil of joy” and a “garment of praise” (Isa 61:2,3) to replace the sackcloth life had thrown on us.

            The Lord came looking for us at the worst time of our lives, and because of that we now live in the best times, no matter what our physical circumstances may be.  We were all bruised reeds, but with tenderness and care He granted us the greatest of gifts, a spiritual healing that is eternal.  It is right to praise Him, to stand in awe, and to marvel.  But once in a while it wouldn’t hurt to remember the broken wings, the near fatal spiritual illnesses, the missing pieces of our hearts that He restored and what it cost.  Maybe our healed wings stay a little bent just to remind us where we were and what might have been without His amazing love.

            And always, we need to look for the others who need Him too.  There is room on the feeder for as many weak, sick, and dying birds as we can bring with us.  And then He can look with satisfaction one day on those who laid their burdens on Him, who allowed Him to care for them, who accepted His offer of love and grace.  And together we can marvel for Eternity.
 
Behold, my servant, whom I uphold; my chosen, in whom my soul delights: I have put my Spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the Gentiles. He will not cry, nor lift up his voice, nor cause it to be heard in the street. A bruised reed will he not break, and a dimly burning wick will he not quench: he will bring forth justice in truth. Isa 42:1-3
 
Dene Ward

Was there ever a church with as many problems as Corinth?  We can easily make excuses for them.  Corinth was one of the most sinful cities in the world at the time.  In fact, “Corinthian” was an adjective describing a licentious lifestyle.  Certainly it was difficult to be a Christian in such an environment.  I have said before that if a person could remain pure in that city at that time, anyone can live a pure life today.
            Yet the apostle Paul obviously expected more out of them, and he told them their faults plainly. 
            They were factious (1:10-14); they were carnal and immature (3:1-3); they were arrogant (3:18,19; 8:10); they were selfish (6:7; 14:26-33).  They had little regard for one another and put their own interests ahead of the mission God gave them as His people (6:5-8; 8:9-13).  They glorified sin in their presence instead of removing its leavening influence so their worship could be pure before God (chapter 5).  They even corrupted the memorial meal that should have unified them, reminding them that they all came from the same humbling circumstance of sin, dependent solely on the grace of God for their salvation, (11:17-34).
            Yet despite all this, how does Paul end that first letter of rebuke?  With hope.  Yes, they had been “fornicators…idolaters…adulterers…effeminate…abusers of themselves with men…thieves…covetous…drunkards…revilers…extortioners,” but they had also been “washed…sanctified…justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ” (6:9-11).  Paul scolds them over and over, but he ends with the hope that they could change their lives, overcome their problems, and be “raised incorruptible” on that final day (15:52).
            Paul told even these bad boys and girls of the New Testament that they could live righteously and inherit eternal life.  Doesn’t it make you stop and think a minute before you consign someone to Hell by refusing them the opportunity to even hear the gospel because of their sinful, problem-filled lives?  Doesn’t it make you cringe a little at how carelessly we label congregations of God’s people “sound” and “unsound?”  And most important of all, doesn’t it give you hope when you fall yet again and have to pick yourself up and repent?
            Most of us would have simply bypassed Corinth if we had been making Paul’s itinerary for him.  To paraphrase Nathanael, “Can any good thing come out of Corinth?”  Yet Paul knew that where there is the greatest need, there will be the greatest response.  It may be tough going.  It may be that these folks will be “high maintenance Christians,” people who need a little more help, a little more support, and a whole lot more of our time, but who is to say that one soul is worth more than another?  We all stand before God as helpless sinners.
            And God holds out for us the same hope he gave those early Christians who had to fight their upbringing in a libertine culture even worse than ours. 
            O death where is your victory?  O death, where is your sting?  The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law, but thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.  Wherefore my beloved brethren, be steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, for as much as you know that your labor is not vain in the Lord, 1 Cor 15:55-58.
 
Dene Ward

My writing teacher taught me that the final sentence can make or break a story, essay, or speech.  What she actually said was, “Too many people don’t know when to shut up.”  She told us to make the last line, or at least the last phrase, short and punchy so it would stick in people’s memories for at least a while after they put our writing down or walked away from our speeches.  If you keep on going, you weaken the impact of what should have been the last sentence, and no one will remember it.

            There have been times the last sentence took me days to come up with.  I ended the essay just to get it finished, then walked away and turned the thing over in my head until finally, as long as a week later, I came up with that punchy last line.  There have also been times when I never found it—I just hoped I hadn’t ruined the whole thing with my failure. 

            The last word of our lives is just as important.  Sometimes we want to rest on our laurels, laurels that become bigger to us as the years go by, so big we often get lost in their branches.  I once heard an old retired preacher who could not sit in the Bible class without reminding everyone of all he had done in the past.  The subject at hand made this particularly ironic.  It must have finally struck him that everyone else was talking about their past mistakes and the things they had learned in life which had helped them develop humility.  He finally spoke up with, “Oh, as I became older I realized I had been wrong about a few things when I was young—but not very many!”  Since we were visiting and he was quite elderly, I went away hoping that did not turn out to be his last word before the Lord.

            We cannot count on things we did long ago to save us; we cannot choose what will be our last word and expect God to forget what came after.  God told Ezekiel, When I say to the righteous, that he shall surely live; if he trust to his righteousness, and commit iniquity, none of his righteous deeds shall be remembered; but in his iniquity that he has committed, therein shall he die, 33:13.  God expects us to continue doing right as long as we live.  He expects us to continue serving others in whatever way we can.  Those right things may change as our circumstances do; our “serving” may reach the point of simple example as our bodies deteriorate.  We may actually become the tool to allow others to serve—saying “yes” when others offer to help is just as important, and humble, as offering the help.  For many of us, “Thank you,” to a loving brother or sister may be the last words we utter.

            God, the Righteous Judge, will be the one with the last word in our final judgment.  Nothing I say or do can change the fact that I have sinned and deserve eternal punishment, but the grace of God gives me hope.  The last word I want to hear before I leave the realm of Time and enter Eternity is, “Forgiven.”
 
This is the end of the matter; all has been heard: fear God, and keep his commandments; for this is the whole of man, Eccl 12:13.
 
Dene Ward

“Then the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. For when the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them, but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps, Matt 25:1-4.
 
            Every time we hear this parable the same point is made—it was foolish to have no oil for their lamps.  But one thing has always struck me from the outset of this little story.  Why were they carrying lamps in the first place if they didn’t also pick up some oil?  It’s like carrying a gun in a dangerous place but no ammunition.  It’s like carrying a hair dryer to a primitive campsite.  It’s like peeling a five pound bag of potatoes with no pot to cook them in.  Why bother? 

Does that mean the story isn’t valid?  Nope.  I see those same foolish people every Sunday.  They get up early to come to church and sit on a pew and a listen to the preacher—but they have made no commitment to God, to their Lord, or to their brothers and sisters.  They do absolutely nothing all week long—no Bible reading, no praying, no serving.  They live exactly the way they want to live, and usually don’t get caught.  Or maybe they are relatively moral, having been taught by their parents to be good people—not because God requires righteousness of His servants.  In fact, God is the last person on their minds in every decision they make.

What’s going to happen when the trumpet sounds?  They will suddenly realize they did not bring any oil.  They carried a lamp every Sunday and somehow thought it would light itself or give off light simply because it was a lamp, or who knows what irrational reason. 

You know that word translated "foolish"?  It means “stupid.”  It’s the word moros.  Look familiar?  I think it’s the word we get “moron” from.  Don’t be a moron.  If you plan to carry a lamp, put some oil in it.  Maybe carry some extra.  Sitting on the pew never has saved anyone, and it won’t save you.
 
​“What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices? says the LORD; I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams and the fat of well-fed beasts; I do not delight in the blood of bulls, or of lambs, or of goats. “When you come to appear before me, who has required of you this trampling of my courts? Bring no more vain offerings; incense is an abomination to me. New moon and Sabbath and the calling of convocations— I cannot endure iniquity and solemn assembly. Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hates; they have become a burden to me; I am weary of bearing them. When you spread out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood. ​Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your deeds from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow's cause, Isa 1:11-17.
 
Dene Ward
 

Keith and I have made a concerted effort to eat healthier meals this year.  We have not turned into rabid health nuts, the ones who look down their noses at your occasional cheeseburger and tut-tut your references to morning coffee.  Organic food is not in our budget and depriving yourself of a treat now and then just makes you want one more.  We have merely kept the fat and calorie intake to a modest level, substituted complex carbs for the simple ones, and made our servings smaller.  We have been rewarded with modest weight loss and better “numbers.”  The best reward is hearing the doctor say, “You’ve lost some weight.  Excellent!”

            Sometimes I daydream about losing another ten pounds, or maybe fifteen or twenty.  Thirty might be a little too much.  On the other hand, who would not want his doctor to say, “I think you need to gain a little weight?”  No doctor I have had in my entire life has ever said such a thing.  I am not sure the one I have now even knows how to string those particular words together in that order.  Even when I was two minutes old and weighed six pounds eight ounces the doctor wouldn’t say it, and that was probably his last chance in this lifetime.  But still, a girl can dream, can’t she?

            When you stop and think about it, there are a lot of words we often dream about hearing, and many of them we eventually do.

            “Will you go out with me?”

            “Will you marry me?”

            “It turned blue.”

            “It’s a boy.”

            “You’re going to be a grandmother.”

            “He’s here, grandma!”

            Words can be precious.  They can change your life in an instant.  Just wanting to hear certain words can change your life because you suddenly realize you won’t hear them if you don’t change it.

            There are many things I may never hear, especially, “You need to gain some weight.”  But if I really put my mind to it, I could.  If I changed my lifestyle drastically, I could.  It just depends on how much I really want it.  Dreaming alone won’t get it.

            There are some words that are worth a drastic lifestyle change.  They are worth the loss of pride involved in self-examination and the humility of admitting wrong and repenting.  They are worth losing family, friends and status.  Some have even thought they were worth losing their lives for.  Dreaming that I have the faith and steadfastness to do those things won’t get me those words, but if I really want to hear them, I can.  They make take that drastic lifestyle change, but they are worth losing it all, because in the losing you gain everything.

            “Well done, good and faithful servant…enter into the joy of the lord.”
 
Tell the righteous that it shall be well with them for they shall eat the fruit of their deeds.  Woe to the wicked!  It shall be ill with him, for what his hands have dealt out shall be done unto him.  Isa 3:10,11.
 
Dene Ward
 

Keith was having a religious discussion with someone once, a brother as I remember, but one he disagreed with.  I had come upon a pertinent scripture in my own study a few days earlier and gave him the passage.  “Here’s some more ammunition,” I said.

            That word came naturally to me.  Keith was a certified firearms instructor for the state.  He taught probation officers, and prison guards how to shoot.  As a probation officer he carried his own weapon, having to qualify every year.  He taught me how to shoot well enough to dispose of a dozen poisonous snakes over the years and he taught the boys too.  So the word “ammunition” came naturally.

            However, it nagged at me enough that over the next few days I began wondering if we don’t have that mindset much too often,  Yes, we are in a battle.  Yes, the scriptures talk about our “weapons,” weapons God Himself supplied for our warfare.  And yes, our fight is not just with Satan, but with his ministers as well.  But look at this passage:

            As for me, I have not hastened from being a shepherd after you; neither have I desired the woeful day; you know: that which came out of my lips was before your face, Jer 17:16

            Jeremiah was NOT happy about Judah’s coming destruction—he did not “desire” the evil day.

            There’s an old story about a man who was converted after thirty years of different preachers telling him he was lost.

            “Why now?” someone asked him.  “Why listen to this preacher?”

            “Because,” the old man said, “he really sounded like he was sad about it.”

            Is that our problem?  Do we get too much pleasure out of the fight?  Are we just a bunch of gung-ho cowboys in our zeal?  Are we more interested in winning arguments than in winning souls?

            God gave Jeremiah plenty of ammunition, and he used it well enough that he was thrown into prison for it.  But he never enjoyed the job.  In fact, a good many of the prophets disliked their mission.  “I went in the bitterness of soul,” Ezekiel said.  In his confrontation with the priest of Bethel, Amos as much as said, “This wasn’t my idea.” 

            That’s a far different attitude than I have seen in some brethren, who delight in slinging bandoliers over their shoulders and spraying automatic fire in a drive-by.

            We’re supposed to be saving souls, not murdering them.  Let’s take stock of our attitudes when we go out to battle today.
 
​Give glory to the LORD your God before he brings darkness, before your feet stumble on the twilight mountains, and while you look for light he turns it into gloom and makes it deep darkness. But if you will not listen, my soul will weep in secret for your pride; my eyes will weep bitterly and run down with tears, because the LORD's flock has been taken captive, Jer 13:16-17.
 
Dene Ward

One Sunday, a newly married young woman named Jessie Pounds did not feel well, so her husband went on to church without her. When he returned. she had written the words to this hymn.

Somewhere the sun is shining,
Somewhere the songbirds dwell;
Hush, then, thy sad repining,
God lives, and all is well.

Refrain:
Somewhere, somewhere,
Beautiful Isle of Somewhere!
Land of the true, where we live anew,
Beautiful Isle of Somewhere!

Somewhere the day is longer,
Somewhere the task is done;
Somewhere the heart is stronger,
Somewhere the guerdon won.

(Refrain)

Somewhere the load is lifted,
Close by an open door;
Somewhere the clouds are rifted,
Somewhere the angels sing.

(Refrain)

            Because it is well over a hundred years old, the song contains a couple of words that might be unfamiliar to us.  Do you know what it means to “repine?”  The song gives us a clue with the modifier “sad.”  I doubt I am doing anything joyful if I am repining.  No, the word means dejection or discontent. 
And how about “guerdon?”  The song says we “win” it, whatever it is.  And if you look it up you will find the terse definition “reward.”

Obviously young Mrs. Pounds was allowing her illness to depress her, and the act of writing this song, reminding herself of the hope she had as a Christian, cheered her up.  She wanted to share that hope with us. 

I can already hear some of my brothers talking about how “unscriptural” this song is.  Where does it say there will be songbirds in Heaven?  And certainly Revelation says there is no need for sun because God is the light.  May I just say this?  Those literalists are missing the whole point.  John’s Revelation uses figurative language to describe Heaven.  If you think there will be pearly gates and streets of gold, you are just as mistaken as Mrs. Pounds.  But somehow, I think she knew that; I think she was motivating herself with her own special view of what Heaven must be like.

The descriptions in Revelation are about motivators.  Those first century Christians lived a day to day existence.  They prayed for their “daily bread” because they had no idea if they would have enough that day, let alone tomorrow.  The farmers among them existed at the mercy of the weather and natural disasters.  The shopkeepers and artisans lived at the mercy of the economy.  No one was going to “bail them out.”

            To those people, a place so wealthy that gold and precious jewels were used as construction material, meant security.  It meant rest from working long hours day after day to simply survive.

            Those people lived under the rule of a foreign king.  Doubtless they had all seen wars and battles.  They knew, in fact, that the Barbarian Hordes could still come over the mountains and wipe them out.  Did 9/11 cause you some concern?  Has it made you worry more about the possibility of terrorists under every bush?  Those first century Christians lived with that sort of uncertainty every day of their lives.  In fact, they probably had more safety as a conquered people than ever before.  But the picture of a huge city with huge walls meant safety and peace forever.  Security—that is what those pictures of Heaven were all about, not materialism.  I have no doubt that if John were writing to us, he would use other motivators.

Frankly, I feel we should give ourselves motivators that mean something to us personally, and we should do the same for our children.  “Getting to worship God forever and ever,” translates to a child as having to go to church, listen to sermons, and sit still forever.  If you think that will motivate them to want to serve God all their lives, you didn’t have any business becoming a parent in the first place. 

And that is what Mrs. Pounds has tried to share with us.  On a day of illness that drug her down, she went to the best place to pull herself out of it—thoughts of Heaven, the reward, the “guerdon.”  Perhaps if we sang more songs about the reward, we would do a better job of gaining it.
 
…we heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and of the love that you have for all the saints, because of the hope laid up for you in heaven…Col 1:4-5.
 
Dene Ward