Trials - Dene's Blog

Learning to Be Servants

9/4/2015 2 Comments

Then Shemaiah the prophet came to Rehoboam and to the princes of Judah, who had gathered at Jerusalem because of Shishak, and said to them, “Thus says the LORD, ‘You abandoned me, so I have abandoned you to the hand of Shishak.’” Then the princes of Israel and the king humbled themselves and said, “The LORD is righteous.” When the LORD saw that they humbled themselves, the word of the LORD came to Shemaiah: “They have humbled themselves. I will not destroy them, but I will grant them some deliverance, and my wrath shall not be poured out on Jerusalem by the hand of Shishak. Nevertheless, they shall be servants to him, that they may know my service and the service of the kingdoms of the countries,.” 2Chr 12:5-8.

            It’s easy, when you find yourself in a trying situation, to make excuses for your behavior; to say, “Woe is me,” and expect everyone to sympathize with you and pat you on the back, not just occasionally or even often, but almost as if it were a daily penance on their part because you have to deal with the difficult and they don’t—at least in your mind.

            “Why is this happening to me?” can become a mantra if you aren’t careful. Maybe God, in the passage above, answers that question.

            Judah repented when they learned the consequences of their disobedience and God repented their destruction. But He did not stop their servitude to the king of Egypt. “This way they will learn how to serve me,” he told the prophet.

            Did you ever think that maybe that “unjust” master (boss) was there to teach you service? Or that difficult spouse?

            Servants, be subject to your masters with all respect, not only to the good and gentle but also to the unjust. For this is a gracious thing, when, mindful of God, one endures sorrows while suffering unjustly, 1Pet 2:18-19.

            Likewise, wives, be subject to your own husbands, so that even if some do not obey the word, they may be won without a word by the conduct of their wives, when they see your respectful and pure conduct, 1Pet 3:1-2.

            Did you ever think that maybe that obnoxious neighbor or ornery brother in the Lord might be there to teach you patience and forbearance?

            Do not repay evil for evil or reviling for reviling, but on the contrary, bless, for to this you were called, that you may obtain a blessing, 1Pet 3:9.

In fact, doesn’t God expect us to use every situation, whether blessing or trial, to improve as His servant? The sufferings we endure are meant to be opportunities for growth, not merit badges on a boastful sash.

            Suffering does not make us exempt to the call to service. People in all situations of life have been serving God as hard as they can for as long as they can, whether rich or poor, sick or healthy, hungry or full, old or young, even in slavery, for thousands of years. The place God puts us is not only the test of our faith, but the textbook from which we learn our service. What lesson would God have you learn today?

And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you, 1Pet 5:10.

Dene Ward

Rewind: Glasses

8/26/2015 2 Comments

            The little girl stuck her head inside the door. Yep. It was empty. Stepping inside, she shut the door, turning the cast iron doorknob—nearly as big as her head—as quietly as she could.

            She panned the room slowly, her brown pixie-cut hair shining in the sunlight that shone through the tiny window near the ceiling. It did look different now. She shoved the thick glasses higher up on her pert nose and looked harder. Now she could see the dust balls atop the army green footlocker, the dirt clods clinging to the ramshackle plow, straw poking out of the stacked crates, ropes looped over rusty nails jutting out of the wall, dark gray lines netting the sides of clanky buckets like veins, the ridges circling the cane fishing pole leaning against the wall, empty dust-frosted preserve jars lining the rickety shelves, the delicate weave of her grandmother’s flower basket sitting empty on the bottom shelf of a drawered table.

            She shuffled across the concrete floor, listening to the grit scrape with every step. Stopping, she leaned over and studied it. It glinted in the slanted sunlight like little slivers of glass. A black ant crept up to one and shoved it along like a tiny bulldozer. At first she was startled; she had never seen an ant before, but now… She shoved her glasses up again. A whole bunch of ants darted crazily around the center pole of the old garage. She skipped over but it was only an old dead roach lying on its back, so she sauntered back to the corner.

            For a while she roamed around with her head up, gazing at the pine rafters and silvery spiderwebs until she tripped over an old footlocker and sprawled over the top on her poochy stomach. It was too bad glasses didn’t go all the way down her face.

            With the footlocker before her, she had found a new interest. The lock hung open and she took it off and lifted the metal latch. Her grandmother’s lace garden hat lay on top, a pair of gloves under its floppy brim. Red and yellow flowered aprons with gnarled strings, a caramel colored walking cane, a yellow-stained baptismal robe, a pair of steel rimmed spectacles wrapped in a once-white lace handkerchief; she fished beneath all these before she found what she wanted—a huge rusty cowbell whose clang sounded more like a clonk. She held it up to her ear and listened two times, three and another just for good measure. Then she held it up over her head and watched the clapper swing from side to side. So that’s how it worked! She knew there was a metal jobbie in there but how it made the clonk was beyond the comprehension of her four year old mind—until now.

            She closed the top of the locker and set the bell on top. Taking a step back to gaze at it, her heel landed on the rake tines and the handle slammed against the back of her head. It was too bad glasses didn’t go all the way around her head, too.

            She set it up against the wall and looked at the floor. It was really dirty. And that big, hairy janitor’s broom leaned against the opposite wall just itching to sweep some.

            She took it by the middle of the handle and lugged it across the floor to the back corner. It was longer than she was and she had to stand on her toes to reach the end of the handle, but when she pulled it down the broom end slid out so-o-o far in front of her. After a half dozen pushes, she was worn out. She yanked up her striped tee shirt and wiped the sweat off her face, sticking her finger up under the bridge of her glasses to get to her nose. It was too bad glasses had to sit on her nose. She brushed her hands off on her red corduroy pants and reached up for another swoosh. That pile of dustballs, dirt, sawdust, and spider webs wasn’t big enough for her to quit just yet, even though a big red blister was rising on the inside of her thumb.

            But she only had time for three more swooshes before she had to stop and listen.

            “Denie!” came the call again.

            Oh well, she had just as soon stop anyway. Something else needed tending to. She had seen lines in her grandmother’s face.

I wrote that when I was 17. It won a couple of prizes, but that’s not why I have posted it today.

I doubt that as a four year old I had any sense of other people’s troubles, but as a 17 year old I must have begun to see one of the biggest problems a trial in your life can give you—an inability to see the pain others are going through. All you can see is your own. All you can feel is your own. All you care about is your own.

Contrast that to our Lord. He led a difficult life, a poor man with no belongings, ridiculed by others and in danger more than once, yet all he did was serve anyone who needed him. As he anticipated what was coming the night before his death, he taught his disciples, concerned about how they would handle what lay ahead. As he hung on a cross in hideous pain, he worried about his mother, seeing to her care.

How do we do when we are suffering? Is it all about us? Can we even tolerate hearing that someone else might be going through something even worse? Believe it or not, I have seen people become angry when the attention shifts to someone else who is suffering, perhaps even more. Is that how a follower of Christ, one who walks in his footsteps behaves? Of course it’s difficult. Of course you are in need of help and service. But an attitude of selfishness that denies others the same help they themselves crave is inexcusable.

My new glasses helped me see more than a blur of moving colors for the first time in my four years of life, yet, as the story shows, they had their limitations. You could only see what was right in front of you. “It’s too bad they don’t---“ fill in the blank, I have thought all my life. Now I think, it’s too bad glasses don’t help us look inside our own hearts too.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. 2Cor 1:3-4

Dene Ward

The Baby Wrens

7/21/2015 0 Comments

            I was walking out to spray the periwinkles one recent afternoon. Those beautiful little flowers wilt easily in the heat, and we have found that several cool mists a day can keep them alive. Lately the heat has been especially oppressive, highs in the upper 90s with a heat index of 110. Stepping outside is like stepping into an oven, one with steam vents, so frequent spraying is necessary.

            As I rounded the corner something off to the side jumped. I stopped immediately. In our area, especially in the afternoon shade, when something moves, you stop and do not continue on until you have identified it. Whatever it was had also stopped. I took one more step and it moved again. Something very small jumped up to the huge live oak on the east side of the house and clung to the trunk. I backed up slowly, then turned around and went for the binoculars.

            When I came back it moved again, and this time I realized it was flying, sort of. Even though it was only ten feet away I could not tell what it was until I had focused the lenses on the rough taupe bark. It was a tiny brown puffball of a bird. I stepped closer and this time two flew. Another step and I saw a third. Then a wren sang above my head and I turned to see two full grown adults watching from the roof line. Now I was sure. That scraggly nest on top of the push broom hanging in the carport had managed to produce babies after all—at least three.

            About that time Magdi came to investigate. Any time I stand still and she notices, she comes to my side. I think she is in protector mode, assuming I have seen something dangerous. All the babies flew then and she gave chase. The last one was not quite as adept at flying. It barely made it to the handlebars of the push mower in the smaller shed. Keith had come out by then to see too. Quickly he called her off. She can chase down all the rattlesnakes and water moccasins she wants to, but a baby wren is off limits. We watched a few more minutes, keeping rein on the dogs, then managed to get them away, interested in something else so the baby birds would be safe—at least from two Australian cattle dogs.

            Isn’t that what God has promised us? Not that we will never be tempted; not that we will never have trials and tribulations, but that He will keep watch and there will never be more than we can handle. The Lord is faithful who will not allow you to be tempted above that which you are able to bear, 1 Cor 10:13. He is always watching over us, ready to shoo the Devil away if things get too difficult.

            Still, it is up to us to resist. It is up to us to endure. He won’t do that for us—we have to flap our own wings and fly away. I am certain that last little wren learned to fly a little better that day, beating those wings faster and harder as the danger approached, a danger a hundred of times bigger and heavier than it was. The next time it will be easier. If we are not there, it will stand a better chance.

            But God is never “not there.” He knows the limits of our endurance. He knows what we need to grow strong. He knows how to keep the dangers away from us far better than we can keep the dogs away from those baby wrens. We had to go inside eventually and leave them to themselves, but God will never leave us alone. The Lord Himself learned how to endure and He will help us any way He can.

            When things get tough, flap your wings a little faster and trust.

I will lift up my eyes unto the mountains: from where shall my help come? My help comes from Jehovah who made Heaven and earth. He will not suffer your foot to be moved; He who keeps you will not slumber. Jehovah will keep you from all evil, He will keep your soul. Jehovah will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forever more, Psa 121: 1-3,7,8.

Dene Ward

Psalm 23--Missing the Obvious Part 2

5/15/2015 0 Comments

Yes, there are more obvious things we simply read over in Psalm 23.

When do you usually hear a reading of the twenty-third psalm? Funerals and deathbeds, right? We have consigned this little gem to those two occasions, probably because of the translation, “the valley of the shadow of death.” Yet, if we had simply done a little study—very little, in fact—instead of just accepting what we always hear and assuming it the beginning and end of the matter, we would have found many other uses for this psalm.

   “The valley of the shadow of death” is actually one Hebrew word—tsalmaveth—and it can mean “deep darkness.” It is, in fact, translated that way in the modern versions. Yes, in Job 38:17 it seems to refer to physical death, but in Jer 2:6 it refers to the wilderness wandering, certainly a dark era for the people of God. In Jer 13:16 it refers to the coming destruction and captivity, perhaps their darkest period. In Job 34:22 I am not certain what it refers to, but it certainly isn’t death. This is important because all of us experience times of deep darkness in our lives. To know that God is with us during those times too, not just at death, is a comfort beyond any other.

   And do notice this, God is the one leading us to and through this dark place. In fact, coming immediately after “he leads me in paths of righteousness” (literally, “right paths”), this dark place is the right place for me to be. It may be a severe trial, but for some reason I need to be there. It is right for me to be there, and God will lead me “through” it. He will not put me there and leave me there. Even something as severe as a losing a child, becoming disabled, or becoming terminally ill, is one He has led me to and through, accompanying me all the way.

   But there may well be other kinds of dark places I must go through, and will realize He has been with me when I get out on the other side. That is, if I have remained His faithful servant, trusting in His wisdom and care. As long as He is with me, “I will fear no evil.” It may be that His presence involves correction or discipline (His “rod and staff”), but I know that He loves me and this is the right place for me to be, and that even in this dark place, “goodness and mercy follows me,” that is, “pursues” me. His goodness and mercy are on the hunt for me, even in the dark places—especially in the dark places.

   Don’t miss out on the gold in this little treasure chest just because you have heard it all your life. Use it to help you navigate those dark places, with Him as your guiding star. Trust Him, as this particular genre of psalms is called, the Psalms of Trust, or Psalms of Confidence—in God.

   You can make it through the dark to a light beyond, which is also implied, for you can’t have a shadow without a light shining somewhere.

The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? When evildoers assail me to eat up my flesh, my adversaries and foes, it is they who stumble and fall. Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war arise against me, yet I will be confident. One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple, Psalm 27:1-4.

Dene Ward

Popcorn

5/7/2015 0 Comments

Popcorn is our snack of choice when watching ball games. We make it the old fashioned way—bacon grease in a large saucepan, bulk popcorn from a large plastic bag, and salt. Heat it over high heat, shaking the pan until it stops popping. The stuff out of the microwave cannot begin to compare.

   We still wind up with what the industry calls “old maids,” kernels that have not popped. Usually it’s the kernel’s fault, not the popper’s.

   They tell me that popcorn kernels are the only grain with a hard moisture-proof hull. That means that not only can moisture not get into the kernel, but the moisture inside the kernel cannot get out either. As you heat them, the steam inside increases until the pressure reaches 135 psi and the heat 180 degrees Celsius (356 for us non-scientists). At that point, the starch inside the kernel gelatinizes, becoming soft and pliable.   When the hull explodes the steam expands the starch and proteins into the airy foam we know as popcorn.

   I found two theories about old maids. One is that there is not enough moisture in the kernel to begin with; the other is that the hull develops a leak, acting as a release valve so that pressure cannot build enough for the “explosion.” Either way, the kernels just sit there and scorch, becoming harder and drier as they cook.

   Isn’t that what happens when we undergo trials? Some of us use the experience to flower into a stronger, wiser, more pleasant personality. Others of us sit there and scorch in the heat until we dry up completely, no use for God or His people, let alone ourselves. The resulting bitterness is reflected in the cynical way we view the world, the way we continue to wallow in the misery of our losses, and the impenetrable barrier we raise whenever anyone tries to help us. As Israel said when they had forsaken God for idols and knew they would be punished, Our bones have dried up, our hope is lost, we are clean cut off, Ezek 37:11. When we refuse to seek God in our day of trouble, when we forget the blessings He has given us even though we deserved none, that is the result.

   But God can help even the hopeless. He can bring us back from despair.
He can make our hearts blossom in the heat of trial if we remember the lesson about priorities, about what really counts in the end. If we have only hoped in Christ in this life, we are of all men most pitiable, 1 Cor 15:19, and that is exactly where we find ourselves if we allow anything in this life to steal our faith in God.

   Trials are not pleasant; they are not meant to be. They are meant to create something new in us, something stronger and more spiritual. When, instead, we become hard and bitter, we are like the old maids in a bag of popcorn, and when the popcorn fizzles, it’s the popcorn’s fault.

For our light affliction, which is for the moment, works for us more and more exceedingly an eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal. 2 Cor 4:17,18.

Dene Ward

Solitary Confinement

2/26/2015 3 Comments

I have been alone many times in my life. My vision problem meant I spent a lot of time alone indoors instead of outside playing with other children. We moved a few times, and being naturally reticent, I was slow to make new friends. Being a preacher’s wife, and then a law enforcement officer’s wife meant I often found myself on the outside looking in—people were often uncomfortable around me. Finally, living out in the country for the past thirty years, where “next door neighbors” can be as far as half a mile away, has also kept me isolated from others. However, I learned a long time ago how to be comfortable with myself. To me, being alone seldom means being lonely.
    Far too many people who live in cities, bumping elbows with hundreds of others every day, while never really being alone, are still lonely. Loneliness in the middle of a crowd must be the most debilitating kind there is. When you think no one understands and no one cares, you might as well be on a one man raft in the middle of the ocean.
    No Christian should ever feel the burden of loneliness. Apart from the always pleasant surprise of bumping into a brother or sister in the middle of the week “out there in the world,” or being warmly welcomed into an assembly far from home, there is that “great cloud of witnesses” who are cheering us on, an Older Brother who has experienced every pain we have, and a Father who will listen any time of day. He is never too busy or too tired for any one of his children.
    So if you find yourself feeling lonely, ask yourself why. There is an obligation to reach out for help that the person in the middle of his self-pity wants to deny. “No one loves me” excuses any sort of behavior, we think. But you will never experience the type of loneliness that the Son experienced on your behalf when, solely because of all the sins ever committed—including yours—he was separated from the Father, for God cannot countenance sin; and that Older Brother of ours took them all on his shoulders as he hung on a cross—completely alone for the first time in all eternity.
    So think again about loneliness and remember that no loneliness you ever experience can match that, and any loneliness you do experience is your own fault—you have placed yourself in solitary confinement. That Brother and that Father are always there, even if the brethren down here sometimes let you down. Reach out and take hold of the comfort and fellowship that is there for the taking.
    Behold, Jehovah's hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear: but your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you, so that he will not hear… Him who knew no sin he made sin on our behalf; that we might become the righteousness of God in him…And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Isa 59:1,2; 2 Cor 5:21; Matt 27:46.
    God forsook him, and left him hanging there alone because of your sin and because of mine, and so we will never have to be lonely again.

Dene Ward

It's All About Me

2/2/2015 0 Comments

I have studied Abigail for a few decades now but, just like always, I noticed something new this time through.
   Most everyone knows the story: a bad man married to a good woman, a woman who dares to stand against him and do right. But let’s speculate a little—and it really isn’t much speculation at all.
   1 Sam 25:4 calls Nabal “a churlish and evil” man, or, in the ESV, “harsh and badly behaved.” That is not the half of it. Look at the way those two words were translated in other places. “Churlish” is also “obstinate, hard, heavy, rough, stubborn, and cruel.” “Evil” is “grievous, hurtful, and wicked.” This man wasn’t just a grouch, he was mean and cruel, and it came from a wicked heart.
   Now imagine a “beautiful and discerning woman” married to such a man. It almost had to be an arranged marriage—she certainly didn’t fall in love with him. Since he is extremely rich and she is still in prime childbearing age (we find out later), he is probably older than she. This is also a time when no one would have said anything about physical abuse. As you keep reading in chapter 25, the man’s servants are clearly terrified of him. I do not doubt for a moment that they had all suffered physical punishments from him, probably many unjust. I wouldn’t even be surprised if Abigail hadn’t suffered the same. God’s Law protected women from men in every way possible, but for a man like this the Law meant nothing.
   So along comes David’s army, men who had protected Nabal’s servants from passing raiders by the way, which means his livestock--his wealth--were also protected, and David is now in need of provisions for several hundred men. Surely this “very rich” man who was already in the middle of a celebration time when the food would be plenteous, v 4, 8, could spare some for them.
   David carefully instructed his men exactly how to approach Nabal. If you have one of the newer translations you will miss this. ESV says they “greeted” him, v 5. But that word is one that means far more than saying hello. It can also be translated salute, praise, thank, congratulate, even kneel. All those words involve respect and honor. Yet Nabal drives them off with exactly the opposite attitudes—disrespect, dishonor, and ingratitude for their service to him. “Who is this David?” he asks, accusing him of rebellion (v 10, 11), though Abigail knew exactly who he was (v 28, 30), the anointed of God.
   Abigail knows nothing about this event, but Nabal’s servants know plenty about her. They come running, afraid for their lives for the way their master has treated a warrior and his army. And Abigail saves the day, gathering up as much as she can and sending it on to David, riding up herself to reason with him and beg for their lives. When she asks David to remember her, she isn’t asking him to save her from her lot in life. She goes back to the man and the responsibilities she sees as hers.
   Now think about this. What would happen today if something similar occurred to a beautiful young woman, stuck in a loveless marriage to a horrible man, a cruel man who probably beat his servants and maybe her as well? Do you think she would have had any concern for anyone else?
   Abigail was not so wound up in her own misery that she couldn’t see the misery of others. She probably cared for the servants her husband abused. She didn’t whine about not deserving this kind of life. She didn’t expect everyone to wait on her hand and foot or bend over backwards for her because she was mistreated, nor did she fall into a useless heap of flesh because life was “unfair.” She just “dealt with it.” Instead of being a drama queen focused only on her own problems, she looked for ways to help others as the opportunity arose. She did not allow her misery to blind her to the needs of others.
   We could talk about her “going behind her husband’s back,” but let’s quickly notice this—she saved his life too, at least until God came into the picture and took it Himself. “Looking to the good of others,” we call that nowadays and label it the highest form of love. Abigail did this for everyone, including the undeserving, and regardless of who did and did not do it for her.
   Abigail understood this, and so should we: it’s not about me, it’s about Him.

[Doing] nothing through faction or through vainglory, but in lowliness of mind each counting other better than himself; not looking each of you to his own things, but each of you also to the things of others, Phil 2:3,4.

Dene Ward

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Glowing in the Dark

10/28/2014 0 Comments

I found a verse the other day that intrigued me—for the kingdom of God is not eating and drinking, but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit, Rom 14:17. While the meaning is obvious—in the context of eating meats sacrificed to idols, Paul is telling them that being in the kingdom is a matter of the inner man not the outer man—I still wondered why those three things were chosen among the many traits describing Christians.

   Before much longer I found Romans 5:1-3. Those three things are not three separate items, as if they can be chosen one without the other, they are a chain reaction. I am justified (made righteous), and as a result have peace with God, and that creates joy in my life.

   Keep reading down to verse 5 in Romans 5, then add 12:12 and 15:13 to the mix and you see that joy is inextricably bound with hope. The Greeks did not use “hope” the way we use it, a wish for something that could go either way, but as a confident assurance or, as Keith likes to say, “a vision of a certain future.” Along with the apostle John in 1 John 5:13, I should be able to say, “I know I am saved; I know I have been forgiven; I know I have a relationship with God; I know I am going to Heaven.” Is there anything that should inspire any greater joy?

   Being joyful does not mean we may not face sad times; it does not mean we must not ever grieve in a trial. What it does mean is that we will bounce back from those times because joy is the foundation for our lives. If, instead, I come through a trial with an attitude only toward myself, what I have endured, and what I believe others should be doing for me because of it, my joy has turned into bitterness. In fact, I have not successfully endured that trial at all. Whenever I allow something to smother my joy, in at least that much I have allowed that thing to be more important to me than my relationship with God.

   This is easier said than done. I used to wonder how to have this joy that everyone kept telling me I was supposed to have. God does not leave us without direction. Col 1:9-14 gives us several techniques for having joy. Be filled with the knowledge of Him; walk worthily of the Lord; bear fruit in every good work; give thanks for our salvation. Do you know what that boils down to? Focus on the good things and stay busy serving others.

   Joy is like a glow-in-the-dark toy. The more I focus on what God has done for me and what he expects me to do for others, the longer I sit in the light and the stronger my glow will be. But if I sit too long in the shadow of sadness and grief, focusing too long on myself, my joy will begin to fade until eventually it is gone altogether.

   If you find yourself alone in the dark today, it’s time to come back into the light before your joy disappears, along with the hope that reinforces it. This is a choice you make, one that has nothing to do with what happens today or what anyone does to you, but with the path you choose to take regardless.
That the proof of your faith, more precious than gold that perishes though it is proved by fire, may be found unto praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ: whom not having seen you love; on whom, though now you see him not, yet believing, you rejoice greatly with joy unspeakable and full of glory: receiving the end of your faith, the salvation of your souls. 1 Peter 1:7-9.

Dene Ward

A Poor Excuse

9/25/2014 3 Comments

            I was in the middle of making an excuse the other morning when suddenly I heard myself. Yes, I was tired, I had a headache, and serious things were whirling around in my mind. So surely my snappy tone of voice was understandable, wasn’t it?

            Let’s check this theory out. Jesus is supposed to be my example. Simply making the claim to be his disciple means I try my best to do what he would do. So if I look at what had to be the worst time of his life on earth, the last twenty-four hours, then I can measure myself against the true standard.

            Over the Passover meal, when his disciples were once again arguing about who would be the most important in the kingdom, he finally lost his cool. “Shut up! I have more important things on my mind than dealing with your petty concerns right now.”

            He was so concerned about the upcoming trials he would need to endure, he never once thought about what they might be going through, and left them to their fears and confusion. “Grow up!” he told them. “It’s high time you figured this out for yourselves.”

            When one of his best friends betrayed him, the other apostles were still murmuring among themselves about who it must be. “Be quiet,” he said. “This isn’t about you.”

            He was obviously in tremendous pain as he hung on the cross, so how could he even begin to worry about his mother and her care? “Can’t you quit that sniveling? You’re only making things worse.”

            Well, that’s how it might read if it were me going through those trials. Instead, Jesus left an example that shows me there is no excuse for poor behavior. Despite what he was going through, the like of which I have never had to endure, he kept his thoughts on others. He kept his voice tempered. He kept his actions loving. Not even his enemies suffered a tongue-lashing of the type I find so easy to dish out when I am upset or do not feel well.

            For you see, God does not allow trials in our lives so we will have excuses for sin. He allows them so we will grow and get stronger. When I excuse my behavior because of what I am going through, I fail the test. Unless I recognize where I failed and determine not to do it again, I will not get stronger; I will only get weaker. In the process I will make it more likely that the next time I will fail again. And again. And again. Till there is no more need for trials at all because Satan has me exactly where he wants me, and I am too weak to even think about fighting back. Even those I claim to love will know to stay away from me when things are not going well, and so my last avenue of help is also gone.

            The sad truth of the matter is the one who is best at making excuses is one poor excuse for a Christian.

For hereunto were you called: because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow his steps: who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth: who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered threatened not; but committed himself to him that judges righteously: who his own self bare our sins in his body upon the tree, that we, having died unto sins, might live unto righteousness; by whose stripes ye were healed. For you were going astray like sheep; but are now returned unto the Shepherd and Bishop of your souls, 1 Peter 2:21-25.

Dene Ward

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Refreshment

7/10/2014 2 Comments

We worked our boys hard when they were growing up, weeding and picking the garden in the heat of a Florida summer, standing in a hot kitchen working the assembly line of produce canning and freezing, mowing an acre’s worth of our five with a push mower—not a walk-behind, but a push mower—splitting and stacking wood for the wood stove, hauling brush, raking leaves, and dumping them for mulch. After hours of hard labor and buckets of sweat, nothing thrilled them more on a hot summer afternoon than a refreshing dip in a nearby spring.

            Springs, even in Florida, are cold. It is almost painful to step into one--they will literally take your breath away. I was one who gradually eased my way in to avoid the shock, but the boys wanted to “get it over with,” and usually jumped off the pier, the floating dock, or the rope swing, whatever that particular spring had as a point of entry, and if I was standing too close I “got it over with” too.

            One of their favorites was Ichetucknee, probably because that one took up most of a day as we rented tubes and floated down the river from the spring head, leaving the water three hours later when we reached the picnic pavilions. Even by that point in the float, the river was still close enough to the spring that we could chill a homegrown watermelon in its cool shallows while we ate tomato sandwiches and leftover fried chicken; and we never had to worry about snakes or alligators.

            We were always the only ones around clothed from our necks to our knees so we got a lot of strange looks. The clothes did not help a bit with the cold. They were for modesty only. Nothing about a freezing wet shirt sticking to your body will keep you warm, even in a patch of sunlight. Yet when I finally got wet enough that a mere splash did not make me squeal, the water was a refreshing respite from the sauna we call summer down here.

            Peter told the people of Jerusalem that if they repented they would receive “seasons of refreshing” in Acts 3:19. I am told that the word actually means “breathing,” as in catching one’s breath after hard labor or exercise. That indicates to me that God is not promising us a life of ease. Yes, we have blessings that others do not have, and that only those who are spiritually minded can even recognize and enjoy, but we will still experience heartache, persecution, illness, and other trials of life. We are expected to wear ourselves out with service to any in need, as long as there is life in us. God has no truck with laziness.

            But we have this promise—as surely as ice cold spring water lapping against an overheated body can refresh and renew, we will have refreshment from above that soothes our aches and heals our hurts, that rests our souls with the peace of fellowship with God, and that bestows grace on our tortured spirits. Repent therefore, and turn again, that your sins may be blotted out, that so there may come seasons of refreshing from the presence of the Lord; and that he may send the Christ who has been appointed for you, Jesus, Acts 3:19,20.

Dene Ward

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