While the boys were still at home, we raised pigs and chickens.  The chickens we kept mainly for their eggs, but when one stopped producing well, it was time for chicken and dumplings.  The pigs were meant for meat from the time they were piglets.  We named the males Hamlet and the females Baconette to remind us.  You don’t want to get close to an animal destined for the dining table, but then adult pigs are so disgusting there isn’t much danger of that anyway.
            Slaughtering chickens is not quite as traumatic as slaughtering pigs.  They are birds instead of mammals, and they are small and don’t bleed as much.  We never shielded the boys from these things.  They needed to understand where our food came from.  I think there are some city people who must think meat is left in the meat markets in the night by elves the way they go on about the cruelty of ranchers and hunters.  When you understand where it comes from, you respect the animals and appreciate them much more than you would otherwise.  Both of our boys love animals and treat them kindly but they are strong-minded enough to understand necessity too.
            Lucas learned that respect in a more difficult way than we intended.  When it was time to put down a pig, Keith got up early, killed the animal and bled him as quickly as possible, and then loaded it on the trailer for the trip to the butcher.  Three hundred pounds of dead weight meant he needed help. 
            When Lucas was finally big enough to actually help load, he went out with his dad to the pigpen and soberly watched the proceedings.  Mindful of the effect it might have on him, Keith quickly poured sand on the blood.  Then he backed the truck and trailer over to the pigpen gate and Lucas crawled in on the other side to help load the pig—stepping right into that camouflaged pool of blood.  It rose around his ankles, warm and sticky.  After his dad left for the butcher, he came in to wash his feet, a little green around the gills and pale as a ghost.  He really understood the sacrifice that pig had made to feed our family.
            I suppose that is why the Lord intended for us to have a weekly reminder of the sacrifice he made for us, in all its gore.  Too often in asking forgiveness we are like the city folks buying meat at the grocery store, not really understanding all that made that purchase possible.  We need to come to grips with the fact that our actions caused a death, a particularly horrible death.  Even more than that, we are the reason for it yet again every time we sin.  The way we treat our failings as something to laugh about or shrug off as trivial, we probably need to stand beneath that cross and step ankle deep in the still warm blood of Jesus to jolt us back into reality. 
            Sin is just as horrible as slaughter.  In fact, it caused a slaughter which will prevent another one, but not if we don’t have enough appreciation for it to make ourselves do better.
 
He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and Jehovah has laid on him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed, yet when he was afflicted he opened not his mouth; as a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and as a sheep that before its shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth…Yet it pleased Jehovah to bruise him; he has put him to grief: when you shall make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of Jehovah shall prosper in his hand. Isa 53:5-7,10

Dene Ward
 

So you're hungry and decide to make yourself a quick sandwich.  Do you realize what a luxury that is?  A hundred years ago you had to either bake your own loaf of bread or go buy a whole loaf and then come home and slice it yourself.  Bakeries did not have a machine that could slice warm bread or even slice cold bread evenly.  A man named Otto Rohwedder fixed that problem. 
            Born in Des Moines, Iowa, he later moved to Davenport as a child, and eventually entered the Illinois College of Optometry.  After graduation he became a jeweler in St. Joseph, Missouri.  But he always had the dream of a machine that could slice warm bread.  Everyone told him he was crazy and no one took him seriously.  But he never let go of his dream, working at it in his spare time, even building a small factory.  One day his factory burned down, destroying both the prototype and the blueprints for his invention; his idea was put off yet again.  Finally, he came up with another prototype, a machine that would slice bread straight out of the oven without squashing it.  But no one would buy the machine.  They didn't believe it would work.
            Finally, Frank Bench, the owner of the Chillicothe Baking Company in Chillicothe, Missouri, ordered one of the machines.  He sold his first loaf of sliced bread on July 7, 1928.  His bread sales increased 1000% in just two weeks.  Word spread and orders came in from across the country for Rohwedder's machine.  He had changed bread baking.  In fact, in 1943, President Roosevelt tried to ration sliced bread.  A vocal rebellion among homemakers changed his plan.  In 1951, comedian Red Skelton coined the phrase, "The best thing since sliced bread," showing just how momentous this invention was—the phrase has stuck since then.
            Indeed, change can be momentous, especially a change in thinking.  In ancient times, most people did their best to stay out of the limelight, avoiding anything that might make the gods notice them.  Gods, to the pagans, were beings who had no love for mortals and played with them like a cat with a mouse—just before pouncing for the kill.  So no one wished to be noticed by the gods.  In fact, the best life you could hope for was not to be noticed by the gods. 
          Then along came people like the apostle Paul, teaching them about a God who actually cared about them.  A God who loved them and wanted to help them and even be with them forever.  A God who would send His Son to die so all of those things could happen.  Is it any wonder that they flocked to hear about Him?  A God who would do this for you, and who promised you would live with Him in glory for Eternity, was a God worth devoting yourself to, spending your life serving, and even dying for.  And many did, in some truly horrible ways.
            To the Jews He was presented as a God who kept His promises to their father Abraham, and who would bring a kingdom that lasted forever and which no earthly kingdom could destroy.  And His Son, the promised Messiah, also died for a covenant that meant no more Day of Atonement, no more daily sacrifices, no more Passover, because, "Your sins I will remember no more."  No more weight of guilt in your life—another momentous change.
            And our grandmothers thought sliced bread was great?  Sliced bread shouldn't even be mentioned in the same breath as our God.  He can change your life in ways you never thought possible, and loves you far more than you deserve.  …remember the former things of old; for I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me (Isa 46:9).
 
For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die— but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us (Rom 5:7-8).
 
Dene Ward
 
 
 

In case you don't really understand Irma's magnitude, from east to west, it was 650 miles wide—the Florida peninsula averages 130 miles in width.  15,000,000 people in Florida alone were without power.  25% of the homes in Key West were completely destroyed, another 65% incurred major damage.  70,000 sq miles were impacted by at least tropical storm force winds.  The highest winds recorded were 185 mph.  That speed was maintained for 37 straight hours.  Over six million Floridians were told to evacuate.  Another few million did so voluntarily.  The score calculated by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) when measuring the power of hurricanes was 66.8, compared to 11.1 for Hurricane Harvey, and we all watched the devastation from that one (statistics from "Breaking Down Irma by the Numbers" on architecturaldigest.com).
            That is what we Floridians had to look forward to as Irma approached our coasts.  In the past we have had Category 2 and 3 storms hit the coast and, by the time they reached us, diminish to Category 1 or even mere tropical storm force (which is not as "mere" as it sounds when you are in the middle of it).  This one was to hit as a 5.  Everyone told us it would still be a 3 by the time it reached us.  That is why we counted our home as lost, carefully packing what was most important to us in the car and truck and moving them as far from the trees as we could, out into the field. 
            That is also why we spent the night that Irma came through in the car.  Would the car be blown over with us in it?  Possibly.  But far better that than being crushed under a thousand pound limb falling on the house, or being injured or maimed by the flying glass and debris when the roof blew off.  So as darkness fell and the wind and rain picked up, we scampered out to the car and climbed inside. 
            The backseat was crammed with a cooler and two boxes, so lowering the seat backs for a better sleeping position was minimal.  We clasped hands and said our final "together" prayer, and then did our best to go to sleep, which amounted to me being quiet for Keith, who was being quiet for me, as both of us sat/lay there with our eyes wide open, each praying our own continuous private prayer all night long.
            We had left the porch light on for our trip out into the field.  We are used to utter darkness out here in the country, no traffic lights, street lamps, or passing headlights, so that light was intrusive, but it also gave us a small sense of security.  Imagining what was going on would have been much worse.  Finally we both drifted off out of sheer exhaustion from the days of preparation before as well as a cold we had shared that week, and when I woke again I had to use the flashlight to see my watch.  It was 2:30 and the porch light was out.
            We had no idea what was happening, where the storm was, how strong it was.  Several times in the night, the wind howled a bit more loudly and the car rocked.  What surprised me was that behind those thick clouds a full moon actually cast a soft gray light and it was no longer black as pitch as it had been earlier.  Still, we could not tell what was happening.
            After a couple of hours we drifted back off again, rocking in our metal cradle.  At seven, almost as if an alarm had gone off, we both opened our eyes to dim daylight.  We looked out the rain-dribbled windshield and saw a 35 year old manufactured home all in one piece.  No debris, no missing roof, no broken windows.  Lots of yard trash, but no monster limbs crushing anything.  Keith got out into the rain to start up the generator and I flipped on the car radio.  The storm had weakened much more quickly than expected.  If it passed over Gainesville as a Category 1, by the time it reached us, it was to the west and down to tropical storm force winds, something no one had dare predict. 
            Keith came back for me then, and we rolled up our pant legs.  The waters were running off all around us nearly six to eight inches deep as the property drained, but we stood there and hugged each other and shouted a thank you over the slackening wind and rain, tears running down our faces.  God had answered all those prayers, and if you think one thank you was all He got from us, you still don't understand hurricanes and the One who made them.  Even now, over a month later, we are still saying thank you.
            And what did we learn from that?  A question popped up in our minds.  How many times have we said thank you for the sacrifice our Lord made to save our souls in the same fashion we said thank you for his saving our physical home, and a humble one at that?  How many times have we grabbed each other in pure, unadulterated joy and wept real tears over our salvation?  Once, maybe, at our baptism; another time or two when a particular sermon or talk hit us right between the eyes.
            We've been mulling that over for several weeks now.  I hope this week has helped you consider it, too.
 
Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift. (2Cor 9:15)
 
Dene Ward

We woke Sunday, September 10, to the bluster of a nor'easter blowing in from the Atlantic to our east off the Jacksonville coast.  The wind tore at the tops of the trees and rain splattered against the house.  "Is this Irma?" I wondered at first, even though I knew it was too early, and soon discovered what it actually was.  From then on, things just got worse as Irma did approach us from the south.  Traffic on the highway ceased.  Children's voices as they played outside stopped.  I have never heard complete silence around this place.  Even before so many others moved in, something was always chirping, tweeting or crowing, mooing, bawling, or screeching.  But not that afternoon.  The birds knew what lay ahead, as did the animals.  Perhaps they even heard what I could not.
            Finally in the darkness we heard her come.  Rain didn't patter on the metal roof, it roared.  It came cruising across the field one white sheet at a time, crashing against the sides of the house like a giant had thrown an equally gigantic bucket of water against us.  It never came straight down.
            Then the winds began to out-roar the rain.  It seemed to start three or four sections over and come closer and closer and closer until it suddenly slammed us, only to start again.  That's when the whumps and thumps started.  The first time it was a limb, as big around as a man's thigh and about 8 feet long.  It missed the house.  The next time it was a slightly smaller limb and further from the house.  The third time it was a clatter as a green branch, the looks and size of a shrub hit the carport roof and bounced off. 
            It continued all night.  The house creaked, the metal screeched, and occasionally something we thought we had secured fell over or slid in the wind.  At 1:10 AM the lights flashed four times, but stayed on.  At 2:30 they went out completely.
            With all that going on, we did not get much sleep that night, but as the morning hours began to dawn, we both finally slept the sleep of exhaustion, hours of preparation and tension both bringing us at least a couple hours of rest.  We woke at 7 when the gray light finally gave us a view of the results.  And then the sounds completely changed.
            Chainsaws started almost immediately, clearing fallen trees from highways and driveways.  Generators roared to life all around us.  It isn't that we live that close to our neighbors, but generators are notoriously noisy monsters.  Big utility trucks rumbled by on the highways, surveying the damage and planning how to fix it.
            We got in the truck and tootled down the highway to check on our neighbors.  We passed mounds of sawdust where fallen trees had already been removed and then came to the Olustee Creek and heard another new sound—water lapping over the bridge.  It became apparent then that this would be a flood like we had never seen in our 35 years here.  Within a day the bridges over the Santa Fe River were inundated and round hay bales in normally dry fields bobbed like corks in the swelling currents.
            And gradually things returned to normal.  By September 12, the birds were back, tweeting in what seemed like joy, flitting through our trees in numbers larger than we had ever seen.  I filled the feeders and they came to celebrate with us—cardinals, chickadees, doves, titmice, blue jays and woodpeckers, and even a wild turkey that sauntered over from the woods to check out the remains of our now scraggly garden.  The storm that had taken so many days to arrive and had flummoxed so many meteorologists as to its path was finally over.
            It seems like nowadays everyone has something stuck in their ears.  If it isn't an earbud, it's a phone.  And at home, we seem afraid to let there be silence in our lives.  The television is always on, or the radio, or the stereo.  I wonder how many people hear what is happening in their world.  I wonder how many were completely freaked out by the things they heard when the power died.  This is life, people.   This is what you are missing. 
            Hearing is important.  Just ask my husband who began losing his at 24 and had his first hearing aid at 27.  Now labeled "profoundly deaf," he can no longer hear when the engine makes a funny noise in the car and assess it.  He cannot hear the smoke alarm or the ringing telephone.  We cannot whisper at night when the lights are out.  Once it's dark and he can no longer read my lips, we're done.  He would have loved to hear his children's voices and understood what they were saying.   And here the world goes, deafening itself to the sounds the Creator gave us to help us, to protect us, even to save us.
            And the Spirit bade me go with them, making no distinction. And these six brethren also accompanied me; and we entered into the man's house: and he told us how he had seen the angel standing in his house, and saying, Send to Joppa, and fetch Simon, whose surname is Peter; who shall speak unto you words, whereby you shall be saved, you and all your house. (Acts 11:12-14)
            So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ. (Rom 10:17)
            It isn't just modern electronics that steal our hearing, it's the machinations of Satan who lies to us, who uses our culture and our selfishness against us.  That passage in Romans is followed by something we need to hear as well.  "Haven't they heard?  Yes, they have.  Didn't they understand?" but the answer to the problem is given in verse 20:  All day long I have held my hands out to a disobedient and contrary people."
            Open your ears to the Word of God and listen.  Those verses may have been said about the Jews, but that doesn't mean they cannot be true about us as well.
 
“Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. ​Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live; and I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love for David. (Isa 55:1-3)
 
Dene Ward

Six days before Irma arrived, we stood in line at Publix with our usual week's worth of groceries.  It was 8 AM on a Tuesday.  Behind us a lady guarded her cart like a Doberman, a cart crammed and stacked with as many cases of water bottles as it would hold.  In the aisle next to us another did the same.
            The next day nearly every store of every type in town was out of bottled water.  We had to stop at one of them and a lady stood shouting frantically into her phone, "They're totally out!  What are we going to do?" 
After she hung up, Keith offered, "Ma'am?  There is still plenty of water from the tap in your kitchen sink."
            Which is exactly what we did—pull the 20 empty gallon milk jugs that we keep in the shed and fill them up, along with my umpteen-quart pressure canner for drinking water and tooth brushing.  Then we filled a dozen five gallon buckets outside, plus a forty gallon barrel to use for flushes, baths, and dishwashing.  All we had to do was filter them through a cloth to get our dirt and leaves when it was time to use them. 
            I have never seen Florida prepare for a hurricane like she did for Irma.  Maybe it was the pictures coming out of Houston from hurricane Harvey a few weeks before.  Maybe it was the 185 mph winds.  Or maybe it was the sheer size of the storm.  At one point it covered the whole state except for the far western panhandle.
           I have never seen so many empty shelves in the stores.  I haven't seen long lines at the gas pumps since the gas shortage of the 1970s.  I have certainly never seen the National Guard handling those long lines when only one station out of 5 was open at an exit, the waiting cars trailing back down the off-ramp to the interstate itself.  I have never seen the evacuations, with the interstate at one point being opened to northbound traffic on both sides.
       "This is the one we never wanted to see," I heard more than one meteorologist say.  "You'd better prepare, Florida."  And prepare she did, all 21 million of her.
           And somewhere along the way I couldn't help but wonder, "Shouldn't we be preparing for the Lord this way?"  You may think you have plenty of time, but listen—for you, the Lord comes the day you die.  Once your life here is over, there are no second chances.
          And that life can end in a flash.  I have lost two cousins to automobile accidents, one in his 20s and the other at 16.  I have lost several close friends to disease in their 40s and 50s.  You just never know.
           And then there is this:  every day the Lord doesn't come is a day closer to the day He will. 
           Be prepared.
 
“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. As the bridegroom was delayed, they all became drowsy and slept. But at midnight there was a cry, ‘Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ Then all those virgins rose and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise answered, saying, ‘Since there will not be enough for us and for you, go rather to the dealers and buy for yourselves.’ And while they were going to buy, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the marriage feast, and the door was shut. Afterward the other virgins came also, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’ ​But he answered, ‘Truly, I say to you, I do not know you.’ ​Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour. (Matt 25:1-13)
 
Dene Ward

I suppose it has not escaped your notice that I do not write what I call, “Feel Good Fluff.”  I do my best writing when I am scolding myself, and unfortunately, that means you get scolded too.
            I am more concerned with becoming a better person than with feeling good.  Maybe that is because I seldom feel good physically any more, so I am not wedded to the idea that I must always be pumped up spiritually in order to become a more spiritual person. 
            I have written a few things that I hope have encouraged you.  I have written a few things that have made some of you cry, good tears, not bad ones.  However, a friend told me once, “I want something that challenges me,” and I found myself agreeing with her, and that is what I have tried to do more than anything else.  If I keep saying that you are just fine the way you are, will you even bother to try to improve yourself? 
            As a result, I have lost readers.  It makes me think of Ahab who described the prophet Micaiah this way, “I hate him because he does not prophesy good concerning me, but evil,” 1 Kgs 22:8, and who once greeted Elijah, “Is it you, you troubler of Israel?”  18:17. Too many folks ignore the fact that they are causing their own problems.  Like Israel of old they want preachers who say, “Peace, peace, when there is no peace,” Jer 6:14.  Like the Galatians’ behavior toward Paul, they make those who simply want to help them wonder, “Have I therefore become your enemy because I tell you the truth?” Gal 4:16.
            Pats on the back are good.  They serve a purpose.  A sermon that makes you shed a tear for the sacrifice that saved you is a helpful thing.  It might just sustain you through a temptation that comes your way soon after.  I think that is one reason we remember that sacrifice every week. 
            But emotion fades.  That pumped-up feeling can deflate quickly when the realities of life puncture your balloon.  You must often sustain yourself with the knowledge that comes from the hard, and often tedious, work of Bible study.  You must have the word of God saturating your mind so much that it bubbles up and out of you just when you need it most.  You must have prayed often enough that a quick one automatically comes to your lips in difficult circumstances.  You must believe because you know logically and with sound evidence that these things are true, not because someone sent you a piece of feel good fluff that won’t stand up to an argument by a knowledgeable minister of Satan.
            Most of all, you must be willing to listen to those who love you and care about your eternal destiny, whether you want to hear what they say or not—and, in fact, whether they have your good will at heart or not.  God has often used the wicked to send his message.
            Don’t be afraid to be challenged.  Don’t be afraid to examine yourself for your faults.  It will work wonders for your soul.
 
Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in the spirit of meekness; considering yourself, lest you also be tempted. Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. Gal 6:1,2.
 
Dene Ward

I do a lot of research for these history posts.  Sometimes a short one page post takes two hours to put together.  However, one day I was looking through the historical dates in the month of May and found that one day in particular, May 3, was a pretty important day in the field of aviation.
            On May 3, 1919, the first passenger flight in American history took place between New York City and Atlantic City.
            On May 3, 1923, John Macready and Oakley Kelley made the first nonstop transcontinental flight.
            On May 3, 1932, 24 tourists started the first air charter holiday.  It ran from London to Basle, Switzerland.
            On May 3, 1952, an airplane first landed at the geographic North Pole.
            And, though it might be considered more in the line of space than aviation, on May 3, 1994, the US space probe Clementine was launched.
            If ever a day could be deemed important in the history of flight, it seems that May 3 fits the bill.
            Spiritually speaking, another day is much more important.  This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it (Ps 118:24).
            We have a bad habit of taking verses out of context to try to prove a doctrinal point or, in this case, make one of those feel-good memes.  All it takes is a close reading of the entire psalm and anyone with even a smattering of Biblical knowledge can see what it's about.  Read it right now before you continue with this and see if you can't figure it out yourself.
            I hope you have done that reading.  It was pretty easy wasn't it?  Let's just take the two most obvious verses.  Verse 22:  The stone which the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.  This one is even quoted in 1 Pet 2:7, and Paul uses the metaphor in Eph 2:22 of Christ as the cornerstone.  This Psalm is about the coming Messiah.
            Now look at verse 26:  Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.  This is exactly what the crowd shouted as Jesus rode into Jerusalem the Sunday before his death.  Add to that the "Hosanna" in verse 25.  (Hosanna means "save" and is translated that way in this verse.)  Many already believed he was the One whose coming they had looked for over a thousand years.
            If you keep reading the psalm, it should become apparent to you that "the day the Lord has made" is the one in which salvation comes, the Messiah comes, even as it says in verse 21, I thank you that you have answered me and become my salvation.
            That is certainly the most important day in history for all mankind, the day the Messiah offered salvation to all by giving his life and then rising from the dead to defeat sin and death.  So now that it is in its proper context:  This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.
 
Open to me the gates of righteousness, that I may enter through them and give thanks to the LORD. This is the gate of the LORD; the righteous shall enter through it. I thank you that you have answered me and have become my salvation. ​The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone. This is the LORD's doing; it is marvelous in our eyes. This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. Save us [Hosanna}, we pray, O LORD! O LORD, we pray, give us success! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the LORD! We bless you from the house of the LORD (Ps 118:19-26).
 
Dene Ward

In the past year I have heard of several who have found the Lord's body by remembering things from long ago.  Some of them were good memories about a group of God's people and others not so good, but both kinds had them searching out the Truth and they wound up finding it, obeying the gospel or coming back to the Lord, whichever fit the occasion.  Seeds planted long ago finally germinated, which reminded me instantly of I planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase (1Cor 3:6).  Again and again I remind myself to just plant the seed and don't worry about the results; that part isn't my business.
            All of that made me wonder why we so constantly judge a preacher or teacher's efforts by the numbers.  Is it really fair, when his part is to plant or water?  If you want to count the numbers, you should be counting how many he preached to, not how many times the water splashed.  That's what the inspired writer Paul said.
            Sometimes you can teach your heart out only to see a class steadily shrink in size.  You can invite everyone in your neighborhood to come hear the gospel, knock on doors until your knuckles chafe, and speak to every waiter, cashier, or repairman, and never see any of them show up on Sunday morning.  If you planted the seed, you did what you were supposed to do.  Sometimes it takes a while to sprout.  In fact, you may not live long enough to see those tiny green leaves push up through the ground.  Sometimes that's just the way it works.
            We must stop judging by the numbers, by how many have been baptized and how much the membership has grown numerically.  There may well be other growth going on that is not quite so obvious but healthy for the kingdom just the same.  When we do judge by numerical results, just who are we judging?  I think the Book says we are judging God.  After all, He is the one who gives the increase.  I am not real sure I would want to be standing in those shoes!
 
For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it (Isa 55:10-11).
 
Dene Ward
 

"Why have you let this happen after all I've done for you, God?"
            First let's say this and say it quickly:  In the middle of a storm, it is not wrong to ask God, "Why?"  Job asks God again and again.  Various psalmists do the same in all those psalms of lament—far more of those type of psalms than any other, including psalms of praise.  Clearly, God wanted us to know we can ask him.  What He expects is that by studying the methods of those others we can learn how to move gradually from lament (complaint) to praise, and work ourselves out of a dangerous mindset.  We would do well to study those psalms far more than we do now, camping right in the middle of them rather than clinging to Psalm 23 as if it were the be-all and end-all of the Psalms.
            But the last half of that statement is far more dangerous to our souls than the first.  "After all I've done for you?"  Really?  As if sin and good deeds is a tit for tat arrangement?  As uncomfortable as it may be, we need some serious teaching on the enormity of sin.  We need to hear from God's Word exactly how God feels about it.  O God, you take no pleasure in wickedness; you cannot tolerate the sins of the wicked (Ps 5:4).  No one who practices deceit shall dwell in my house; no one who utters lies shall continue before my eyes (Ps 101:7).  And I could go on.
            And then we need some lessons on grace.  When I was a child I heard exactly one lesson on grace.  That's why I remember it.  I must have been about 11 because I remember the building I was sitting in—even which side—and we only lived there for three years.  One lesson in 20 years!  And do you know why?  Because we have fought false doctrine so long that it's as if we think grace and faith are denominational teachings.  We are scared of them.  No one can possibly say, "We are saved by faith," or "We are saved by grace," without instantly adding a qualifier.  "Yes, but—"
            And so we do not understand that nothing we do can save us.  …All our righteous deeds are as filthy garments, Isa 64:6.  O my God, incline your ear and hear. Open your eyes and see our desolations, and the city that is called by your name. For we do not present our pleas before you because of our righteousness, but because of your great mercy. O Lord, hear; O Lord, forgive… (Dan 9:18-19a).  Those Old Testament faithful understood grace better than we do!
            We think of Lady Justice on the courthouse steps with the balances in her hand, assuming that we can load up one side with good deeds and they will outweigh the sins on the other side.  What we don't understand is that one sin outweighs every other good deed we could possibly do.  But when the righteous turns away from his righteousness, and commits iniquity… shall he live? None of his righteous deeds that he has done shall be remembered: in his trespass that he has trespassed, and in his sin that he has sinned, in them shall he die (Ezek 18:24).  To put it plainly, we have no right to call God on the carpet because we are experiencing trials in our lives.  In fact, He has every right to send nothing but trials because all of us have sinned.
            But here is the truly marvelous thing:  even if one sin outweighs all our righteousness, one drop of God's mercy outweighs all our sins.  But if the wicked turn from all his sins that he hath committed, and keep all my statutes, and does that which is lawful and right, he shall surely live, he shall not die. None of his transgressions that he has committed shall be remembered against him: in his righteousness that he has done he shall live (Ezek 18:21-22).  Not because we deserve it.  Never because we deserve it.  But due to the grace and mercy of God, and the fact that we continue on in faith, despite our trials, trusting Him to keep His promises.
 
And you, son of man, say to your people, The righteousness of the righteous shall not deliver him when he transgresses, and as for the wickedness of the wicked, he shall not fall by it when he turns from his wickedness, and the righteous shall not be able to live by his righteousness when he sins (Ezek 33:12).
For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast (Eph 2:8-9).
 
Dene Ward

I grew up in Tampa.  I learned to drive down Busch Blvd when there were actually empty, weedy lots between Temple Terrace and Florida Avenue.  I drove on I-75 with a learner’s permit, what is now I-275, and even into downtown Tampa where my eye doctor had his office in a 20 story “skyscraper”—by Florida standards anyway.  I drove down 75 past Howard and Armenia to shop at the only mall in town, Westshore Plaza, in an era when sometimes you wouldn’t see more than 3 other cars on your side of the interstate.  Yes, it was a long, long time ago.
            I took Driver’s Ed at King High School.  They had a little driving course in the back of the school.  A two lane “street” painted on a parking lot with stop signs, yield signs, diagonal parking, and pylons for practicing parallel parking.  I could drive that course without a hitch and usually even managed to parallel park without crushing a pylon.
            But we never practiced U-turns.  So one day after I had passed my exam and had my own brand new driver’s license complete with the requisite peon-home-from-working-the-field picture, I was headed west on Busch Blvd and realized I had passed my turn-off.  Time for my first U-turn.  I pulled into the left lane and patiently waited for the traffic on the other side to clear.  It may have been years ago, but traffic was not kind that day.  Those cars were spaced just so that I had to wait far longer than if it were a normal left turn.  I knew I needed time to straighten out the car and get back up to 45 mph before any oncoming traffic reached me.
            Finally there was a break, just barely big enough for me to maneuver, if I hurried.  So I spun that wheel hard to the left and pulled out and hit the gas.  My little Mustang made it to the far right lane before completely turning, but almost immediately I was in trouble.  I had kept the wheel turned too long.  The tires screeched as I crossed back over all three lanes and was headed for the median.  Even though I needed to let go of the steering wheel I couldn’t.  I had thrown myself nearly into the passenger seat and was hanging on for dear life.  Thoroughly panicked, I finally let loose enough for the wheel to slide between my hands and allow the car to straighten.  I took my foot off the gas and shifted back into the seat just in time to miss the median and straighten myself out in the left lane.  No one and nothing was hurt but my pride.  I slunk in the seat as the oncoming traffic caught up and passed me, hoping no one I knew had seen that.
            That’s what a lack of experience will do for you.  I was old enough to drive.  But I had never performed that maneuver before, and had probably never paid enough attention to my parents as they did.  “It’s just a longer left turn,” I thought.  No, it’s a bit more than that.
            U-turns in life can be difficult too.  I have seen so many young people completely disillusioned because they thought making those U-turns after their baptism would be a cinch.  Now that I’ve turned my life over to God I won’t feel those temptations any more, they think.  I will suddenly be a changed person, able to live perfectly from here on in.  Once again a lack of experience is showing.
            We can be forgiven from our sins, but very often the consequences are still there to live with.  That can mean things as difficult as serving jail time or fighting addiction or dealing with people we have hurt physically or emotionally.  It can also mean the urges of a besetting sin.  You will still have to work on it.  You may need to change not just your life, but your schedule and your friends in order to see a difference.  The same things that tempted you before will continue to tempt you, and the Devil will try even harder because he thinks he might have lost you.  Why work on the ones who are securely under his belt?
            Tell your children these things.  Tell that neighbor you are trying to convert.  If they are not prepared for reality, they may lose hope.  But also tell them that now they will have help, help that can strengthen them enough to overcome anything—not necessarily easily, but certainly.  Help that understands what you are going through and will bear with you as you learn and grow with experience.  You may throw yourself across the highway the first time or two, but eventually you will learn to navigate the roads of life, and those U-turns will become easier to make. 
            And, if you have been “raised in the church,” you may find that the U-turns you need to make are of a completely different sort.  It is all too easy when you have never been involved in what we call “the big bad sins” to look down one’s nose on those who came from that background and judge them unworthy because they still struggle.  That is the U-turn you must make:  away from a judgmental attitude toward compassion, the same compassion Jesus showed for an adulterous woman, a thieving publican, and a convicted criminal.  Your U-turn may be the most difficult of all, but he still expects you to make it.
 
But [I] declared first to those in Damascus, then in Jerusalem and throughout all the region of Judea, and also to the Gentiles, that they should repent and turn to God, performing deeds in keeping with their repentance. Acts 26:20

Dene Ward