In Florida “winter” means very little, but a year or so ago we had a different sort of winter—long cold spells with lows below freezing and highs only in the 40s, and frosts as late as April.  Snow fell in the panhandle and in the north central peninsula.  Usually we are sorry to see the heat return, but that year we were longing for it.

            The spring was different too.  The azaleas bloomed two months later, and all at the same time, so profusely you couldn’t even see the branches.  The blueberries had more fruit on them than any time in the five years past.  The hostas not only came up again but multiplied, sending up four plants where each one plant sat the year before.  The spring wildflowers were beautiful, turning fields first into blankets of blue and lavender, then red and maroon, and finally pink and white.  The oak pollen fell so thickly the lawn looked like wall to wall brown carpeting.  And the garden produced better than it had in years.

            I wondered, could one thing have to do with the other?  Could a long, hard winter be the cause of good crops and beautiful flowers in the spring?

            And they arrested [Peter and John] and put them in custody until the next day because it was already evening.  But many of those who heard the word believed and the number of men came to about five thousand, Acts 4:3,4.  That is not the only case in the New Testament where rapid growth of the kingdom followed hard on the heels of persecution.  A long hard winter of trial always seemed to make for a springtime of growth among God’s people. 

            Then there is the personal aspect.  I have seen so many times how a personal trial has led to spiritual growth in a Christian.  I have experienced it myself.  Something about trial inures us to the pains that might otherwise cost us our souls.  We grow stronger little by little, gradually learning the lessons of faith, endurance and strength in the service of God.

            That may be why I cringe when I see a young mother turn every little scrape on the knee or cut on the finger into a life-threatening crisis worthy of the loudest wails, instead of helping her child learn to laugh it off.  I have seen too many of those children grow into men and women who complain about everything that does not go their way.   If it’s okay to whine and cry like the world is ending when you fall and skin your knees, why isn’t it okay to scream at other drivers who get in your way?  If it’s okay to pout and mope when you don’t get to play your favorite video game, why isn’t it okay to complain long and loud when the boss asks you to work overtime?  If it’s okay to pitch a fit when some mean adult tells you to straighten up, why isn’t it okay to stand in the parking lot complaining about the church, the preachers, the elders, and anyone else who doesn’t see things your way?

            God needs people who are strong, who can take pain and suffering for His sake, who understand that their way doesn’t really matter if it is not His way, and that the good of the kingdom and its mission may have nothing to do with them having an easy, perfect life here in this world, but everything to do with a perfect life in the next. 

            Just as with everything else, our culture is affecting us.  The strong silent type who can take the worst the world has to offer and keep going is no longer the hero.  Instead we reward jerks and boors and idolize intemperance.  Prodigality and lavish lifestyles are our measure of success; striking back is our measure of character, and throwing tantrums is our measure of strength. 

            I see a day coming when the church will once again be in the middle of a long, hard winter of persecution.  The way we are going we may not survive it at all, let alone have a bountiful spring, because trials and persecution only work to build strength when you learn from them.  They only produce character when you have the toughness to take the bad with the good without whining about it.

            What kind of spring will you have next year?
 
And not only so but we rejoice in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation works steadfastness; and steadfastness approvedness; and approvedness hope; and hope puts not to shame, because the love of God has been shed abroad in our hearts through the Holy Spirit which was given unto us,  Rom 5:3-5.
 
Dene Ward

Jesus told a story that even the most Biblically ignorant people in the world have heard.  We call it “The Good Samaritan.”  Most of us have never actually been in the shoes of either of these men.  Oh, we may have been on the side of the road with a flat tire or a broken fan belt or an overheated radiator, and maybe someone even stopped and helped us, but I guarantee you we have never filled every variable of this example.

A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. He went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him. And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.’ Luke 10:30-35.

Understand this:  Jew and Samaritan was even worse than black and white, and maybe even Jew and Gentile.  “On all public occasions, Samaritans took the part hostile to the Jews, while they seized every opportunity of injuring and insulting them…they sold many Jews into slavery…they waylaid and killed pilgrims on their road to Jerusalem.  The Jews retaliated by treating the Samaritans with every mark of contempt; by accusing them of falsehood, folly, and irreligion; and…by disowning them as [being] of the same race or religion, and this in the most offensive terms of assumed superiority and self-righteous fanaticism” (Edersheim, The Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah). 

These two men not only disagreed politically, they disagreed religiously as well.  Their people hated one another, mistreated one another; they were violent and malicious in every way possible.  Yet here is one who finds himself in need and his “enemy” takes care of him.  And not just minimally.  The Samaritan left “two denarii” to care for the Jew.  A denarius was a day’s wage for a skilled laborer—think carpenter, plumber, or mason in our day, and now think of what those men make an hour and multiply it out for two days’ worth of wages.  That is the equivalent of what the Samaritan left for a complete stranger, and an enemy at that.

Now think today of someone who fits that description—a stranger who is a member of an enemy nation, one that is violent, who hates us, and who is also of a different religion.  Do I have to spell it out?

So you drive by and see someone on the side of the road who is obviously one of those people by his looks and dress—or maybe at the last rest area you saw him on his prayer rug looking to the east so you know exactly what he is.  What are you going to do?  If Jesus’ story does not apply here, it applies nowhere.
The posts I have seen by some of my brethren on facebook appall me.  I do not see a kind people who would care even for those we disagree with, as Jesus did when he healed Malchus’s ear, but an angry people who would wish them harm.  What are we thinking?  “Stop this!” Jesus told Peter when he drew his sword.  “Any who take the sword will perish by the sword. Matt 26:52.
​
Jesus also described the citizens of his spiritual kingdom this way:  You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, ​so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. ​For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? ​You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect. Matt 5:43-48  

I never thought that passage would actually mean something to me someday.  I don’t have enemies, at least none who might wish me harm, but that possibility is becoming more and more real, and that means that passage is becoming one we may have to use one of these days.  Do not become like the unbelievers who ignore the entire Bible by ignoring this one verse in your own life.  The same God wrote it all.

In the Roman Empire Christians often gave themselves away because they were kind not only to their own, but also to their pagan neighbors, even those who had been unkind to them.  Everyone knew, “Only Christians do that.” 
Is that what they would say about you?
 
Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them… Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” To the contrary, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. Rom 12:14-21
 
Dene Ward

It’s spring and that means the tarps that have been protecting things for several months need to be laid out to dry, folded, and put up.  It’s spring and the plastic sheeting needs to be set up over the small, early, garden plot because we will have another frost or two.  It’s spring and that means the breezes are blowing and nothing will stay where you put it for any length of time at all.

            In late February Keith was out in the field laying out the tarps and plastic to dry in the sun, and trying to weigh down the corners with buckets and tools and anything else that came to hand.  He had managed three or four all by himself before dinner, and then I walked out with him afterward to see the freshly tilled garden and the early plot he had set out.  He bent to secure one corner of plastic just as the breeze increased and blew it right out of his hand.  I leaned down to help on my end only to have it, too, blown from my grasp.  He got hold of his corner as I chased mine around in a circle.  Finally we each had a corner and bent to secure them with handfuls of moisture-heavy garden dirt, only to have a particularly strong gust blow it free yet again.

            Three or four tries later we had the early plot covered and secured, the plastic stretched over a line three feet off the ground that ran down the middle to make a small greenhouse of sorts.  We were clothes-pinning the center where the “door” of our teepee met on either end.  Even that took a few tries followed by pinched faces and hunched shoulders waiting for the breeze to once again undo it all.  It held!

            “Whew!” he exclaimed.  “This kind takes prayer and fasting.” I looked at him with a rueful smile, and wondered how many prayers he must have prayed before I got there to help.

            You know, of course, that he was referring to Matt 17:21.  The disciples could not cast a demon out of a boy, but Jesus could.  For their lack of faith they received a stern rebuke, yet Jesus added that it was a particularly difficult demon to cast out.  Sometimes you will have to work harder than others, he seemed to mean by his comment about prayer and fasting.

            And occasionally overcoming a temptation is more difficult than at other times.  Sometimes it’s the circumstances.  If you are tired, or in pain, or grieving, or in any number of other situations, you may have a more difficult time passing the test.  Sometimes it’s the test itself.  Some things bother us more than others, pushing the buttons that most easily cause a reaction.  Sometimes it’s the “help.”  How many times has someone offered the advice to “calm down,” only to have that very advice cause the opposite reaction in spades?

            But notice this about that narrative in the gospels:  Jesus still expected those disciples to have mastered the demon and tossed it out.  Yes, it’s a hard one, he said, but you could have done it if you had enough faith.

            And so can we, if we are in the correct frame of mind.  There is always a way of escape.  It is never more than we can handle.  It doesn’t matter what the test is, what the circumstances are, or how many other well- or even ill-meaning people get in the way. So here are a few suggestions that might help all of us.

            Know your hot buttons and avoid them.  How many times do the Proverbs call people fools who go blundering about their lives without even a thought where they might be headed?  How many other times are the “fools” the ones who go to difficult places with the arrogant notion they won’t be trapped like everyone else?

          If you cannot avoid these difficult situations, then prepare yourself before you get there.  If that means looking at yourself in the mirror and giving yourself a good talking to before you leave the house, then do it.  If it means praying before you leave—always a good idea—do it. 

          Then, don’t forget what you did the minute the door shuts behind you.  Nothing changes because your surroundings did.  If it means quoting scripture all the way through the situation itself, or singing hymns, do it.  Do whatever it takes.

          Don’t blame your failure on anyone else.  “I was doing fine until you came along and…” won’t change the bottom line.  You blew it.

          Do not give yourself an out of any kind.  “He deserved it [my tirade],” would cause you a lot of pain if it were said of you and God followed through on it—we all “deserve it” whatever “it” we might be talking about.  Don’t feel sorry for yourself because it was “hard.”  Do not ever excuse yourself if you failed.  You will never improve if you do.

          Know yourself.  Know what might take “prayer and fasting” to overcome.  God expects it of you, just as He did those apostles.  He expects you to succeed.  And you can.
 
Save yourself like a gazelle from the hand of the hunter, like a bird from the hand of the fowler. Prov 6:5
 
Dene Ward

Today’s thought-provoking post is by guest writer Keith Ward.
 
Jn 3:16 For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son that whosoever believes on him should not perish but have eternal life.

”Comforting words,” “The Central and golden text of the Bible,” I have heard that verse described.   But, for years, I have missed a most important and significant point that it teaches:

If God loved the world so much that he would crucify and slay his Son by the hands of lawless men in order to save it, what would he do to me (or you), his “sons,” in His loving pursuit of the salvation of the world? There is absolutely no limit other than His mercy that “There is no temptation taken you but such as man can bear”. With Job as witness, that is a lot!

These thoughts may help explain why good people suffer. God is using Satan’s works to bring about His purposes, just as he did with Job and at the cross. Who knows how deafness, blindness, lost jobs, dying spouses or children, or any other number of trials bring about good toward someone else’s salvation? We see most of these as purposeless. But God who works, KNOWS.  Our part of the equation is to believe that and trust.
 
Keith Ward

In this part of Florida we have a little bit of winter.  In fact, we have several spells each year with two or three days of gray, wet, cold that seeps into your bones and makes you wonder why anyone would ever nickname this place “The Sunshine State.”

            Then a morning dawns as clear a blue as you could ever imagine and the sun comes out in a blaze you would swear was even brighter than in summer.  The dog’s fur is warm from lying out in the field instead of burrowing under the porch, and you wish you could lie out there with her.  Now you know why it’s called “The Sunshine State,” and you also know no one up north has these respites, certainly not this degree of warmth in the middle of December, January, or February.  They also don’t have bright yellow jessamine cascading from the tops of trees, and camellias treating you to a mid-winter pink blossom that can withstand even a quick morning’s frost.

            Life is like that for Christians.  God never promised a life without trials any more than He promised a year without winter.  We do our neighbors a disservice when we tell them all their problems will go away if they just hand them over to the Lord.  Casting your burdens on him doesn’t mean they won’t affect you any longer—it means you have all the help you need to handle them.  Why would the help be promised if those problems were going to disappear?

            Paul said he served “the Lord with all tears, and humility, and trials” (Acts 20:19).  James tells us to “count it all joy when you meet trials of various kinds” (1:2).  Peter goes so far as to tell us it is necessary for us to be “grieved by various trials” (1 Pet 1:6) and not to think it “strange” when we are (4:12).

            But God does give us reminders of what is to come, things we might call a taste of Heaven here on earth.  He sends it in a strong, godly marriage with two people working together, laughing together, crying together, and growing together as they help each other toward that final Home.  He gives it in that first lusty cry from your child as he enters the world.  He reminds us of that first place we lost in the spring when the azaleas explode in all their color, when the dogwoods shine through the woods like a beacon, and when the birds sing in a cacophony of trills, tweets, chirps, and twitters as they fly back and forth building their nests.  He shows us what He has in store for us as we gather with our sanctified brothers and sisters and raise our hearts in song and encourage one another with love, with advice, and with edification to sustain us during those times not quite so Heavenly tasting.

            We cannot have Heaven now.  We wouldn’t want to give up this world if we did.  So we have troubles, we have tragedies, we grow old and ache and become aggravatingly forgetful and finally learn to long for our true abode instead of being satisfied with second best.  But God does remind us occasionally of how it will be, a little nudge in the right direction so we will eventually make it Home.
 
If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, Col 3:1-2.
 
Dene Ward

Then Amos answered and said to Amaziah, “I was no prophet, nor a prophet's son, but I was a herdsman and a dresser of sycamore figs, Amos 7:14.
 
           Amaziah, the [false] priest at Bethel had just told Amos to go back to Judah.  They were tired of his scare tactics, what they viewed as rebellion against their king, Jeroboam II.  That is how we learn of Amos’s occupation.  While some view him as the owner of the sheep rather than the shepherd who actually slept outdoors watching his flock, you cannot get away from the humble position of fig picker.

            Sycamore figs (also spelled sycomore figs) were not the figs of the upper classes, but a smaller fruit, slightly sweet, watery, and a little woody.  This is what the poor people ate.  The only way a sycamore fig would ripen was for someone to pinch it, causing it to bruise.  About four days later it was fit to pick and eat.  Can you imagine anything much more tedious than pinching every single fruit on every single tree in an orchard?  Then going to the next orchard and doing it all again?  And again?

            As I was pondering this in our Tuesday morning class, I suddenly thought, “And isn’t that what happens to us?”  The only way for us to ripen as a disciple of our Lord is to be bruised.  In my ever increasing number of years, I have seen only those who reach their lowest point realize their need for God.  If I am proud, smug, self-reliant, self-righteous, all too sure of my own knowledge, I will never be able to prostrate myself before an Almighty Creator and commit my life, my belongings, MYSELF to Him.  I will never be able to take up the cross of self-denial and self-sacrifice and serve my Savior and my neighbor. 

            Some people have a stronger spiritual sense and can recognize their need for salvation quickly.  Their bruising is a bruising of the spirit that occurs when they recognize their sin and remorse hits them like that proverbial ton of bricks.  Others need a physical bruising.  You see it often when tragedy strikes—a serious illness, a devastating accident, the loss of a loved one.  A bruising in this physical life may be necessary for them to see the need in their spiritual lives.  I have often heard it said by preachers that the best time to reach your neighbor is in a time of tragedy, and the scriptures bear that out as well.

            Isaiah preached imminent destruction.  In the latter chapters of his book he tells those impenitent people that God will be waiting to take them back—not before the calamity, but afterward—after they have been bruised by a physical destruction the like of which they had never seen before.  That, after all, would be the time when they would finally listen.

            For thus says the One who is high and lifted up, who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: “I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite. ​For I will not contend forever, nor will I always be angry; for the spirit would grow faint before me, and the breath of life that I made. Because of the iniquity of his unjust gain I was angry, I struck him; I hid my face and was angry, but he went on backsliding in the way of his own heart. I have seen his ways, but I will heal him; I will lead him and restore comfort to him and his mourners, ​creating the fruit of the lips. Peace, peace, to the far and to the near,” says the LORD, “and I will heal him. Isa 57:15-19.

            Ezekiel says much the same:  I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I myself will make them lie down, declares the Lord GOD. I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak, and the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them in justice,  Ezek 34:15-16.

            And who does Jesus offer His invitation to:  Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke on you and learn from me, because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Matt 11:28-29.

            And so each of us must face our bruising.  The more quickly we yield, the easier that bruising will be, not because trials will cease, but because our humble hearts will accept both them and the help we will have to face them.  We won’t be alone any longer, a state of affairs that only comes to the stubborn, who refuse to surrender to Divine love and protection.  Sometimes it takes a “fig-pincher” to help with the process, someone who, like the prophet Nathan, can stand before us and proclaim, “Thou art the man.”  And like the sycamore fig, we will ripen into the fruitful child of God each of us has the potential to become.
 
He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint, Isa 40:29-31.
 
Dene Ward

And a certain man of the sons of the prophets said unto his neighbor in the word of the LORD, Smite me, I pray you. And the man refused to smite him. Then said he unto him, Because you have not obeyed the voice of the LORD, behold, as soon as you have departed from me, a lion shall slay you. And as soon as he had departed from him, a lion found him, and slew him,   1Kgs 20:35-36.
 
           If you know your Bible, you know that is only the beginning of the story, but it was certainly the end of it for that second young prophet.  Here is the hard lesson we all must learn:  serving God is NOT for wimps.  Sometimes God asks for difficult things.  Sometimes they seem impossible.  But God expects the impossible from us—the things you cannot do alone, He will help you with.

            First century Christians understood this.  Many of them converted knowing they might be thrown into prison or even the arena within a week.  And us?  We want promises of health and wealth.  We demand a life where no one contracts a serious illness, where our homes never blow away in hurricanes or tornadoes, where jobs are never lost, accidents never happen, and babies never die.  We want the reward now—the perfect life in the perfect place.  Then we will consider serving God.

            It doesn’t work that way and it never has.  This prophet could not believe that God would ask him to strike his fellow prophet.  “Why God would never…” you can hear him thinking just as so many say today.  He found out there was something a whole lot worse when he didn’t have the gumption to do as he was told. 

            I have a feeling that a whole lot of people are going to meet the same lion he did.
 
As they were going along the road, someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” To another he said, “Follow me.” But he said, “Lord, let me first go and bury my father.” And Jesus said to him, “Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Yet another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Jesus said to him, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God,” Luke 9:57-62.
 
Dene Ward

Rise up, you women who are at ease, hear my voice; you complacent daughters, give ear to my speech. In little more than a year you will shudder, you complacent women; for the grape harvest fails, the fruit harvest will not come. Tremble, you women who are at ease, shudder, you complacent ones; strip, and make yourselves bare, and tie sackcloth around your waist. ​Beat your breasts for the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vine, ​for the soil of my people growing up in thorns and briers, yes, for all the joyous houses in the exultant city. For the palace is forsaken, the populous city deserted; the hill and the watchtower will become dens forever, a joy of wild donkeys, a pasture of flocks; Isa 32:9-14.

            The women of God’s people would not face facts.  They were going to be destroyed.  “Complacent” Isaiah calls them.  “Careless” the King James Version says.  That word means bold and confident.  Despite the facts, despite the preaching of God’s prophet, they did not believe they would be destroyed.  What I call it is “denial,” the haven of fear for some of us, and I have seen it often in my sisters.

            When they do not want to believe that a loved one will soon die, they blame everything on the doctors.  “They” are wrong, they don’t know what they are doing, they listen to the insurance companies too much, they are simply cogs in the big business of modern medicine and don’t care about patients anyway.

            When they don’t want to believe there is a financial problem, they place their confidence in how things have always been.  It never crosses their minds that times might have changed and they might need to cut down their costs of living, actually sacrificing a few things.  They believe that it will only last a few days and then things will be back to normal.

            When a family member or friend, especially when a child has gotten themselves into trouble, the accusers are lying, the teacher just doesn’t like my baby, the police have made trumped charges.  It cannot possibly be that someone I love actually broke a rule or committed a crime.

            Women used to be the strong ones.  When I think back to those hearty pioneers who traveled west, who left most things behind and lived on beans, bacon and flour for months at a time, who built fires for every bit of housekeeping from cooking to cleaning, who carried water several times a day, who worked dawn to dusk, then sat by a dim lamp to darn socks and mend shirts until they could no longer stay awake, I wonder what they would think of the spoiled women of luxury we have become—even those of us who don’t live in mansions and wear designer clothes.  I hear too many say, “I could never do that,” to think we are as strong as they were.  Too many seem unable to face facts, recognizing what needs to be done and doing it without a second thought, no matter how difficult it may be.

            What has happened to us?  At one of the places I spoke several years ago, I mentioned something that had befallen my family, something I had to do that I had never done before and wasn’t sure I could even do.  It was supposed to be an application of Prov 31:25: “Strength and dignity are her clothing.”  One of the women actually spoke up and said, “That’s where I draw the line.  No one could make me do that.”  What?  And so something that needed to be done and no one else was there to do it, would not get done?  And everything would be all right? 

Denial, false confidence, indifference, complacency, carelessly assuming things would go on just fine.  That’s what those women in Isaiah were doing.  Sometimes you have to be strong.  Sometimes you have to face the facts, no matter how awful they are.  Sometimes you are the one who has to act.  Don’t be the weakling who wrings her hands in despair or sits there confident that nothing is wrong when everything is.  Don’t let this oracle be meant for you.  
 
​The simple believes everything, but the prudent gives thought to his steps. ​One who is wise is cautious and turns away from evil, but a fool is reckless and careless, Prov 14:15-16
 
Dene Ward

I’m sitting in my camo-mesh lounge chair in front of a campfire, the flame whirling up in a mini-tornado, the smoke wafting down the hillside away from the tent site.  The sun peeks through the leaf canopy dappling the brown, red, orange, and yellow foliage-strewn ground just enough to moderate the cool air into [long] shirtsleeve weather.  Pieces of crystal blue sky show here and there, grayed occasionally by a patch of camp smoke.  The titmice nag at us from the saplings and bushes at the foot of tall pines, hickory, beeches, and red oak, while a woodpecker alternates his door-knock pecking and his manic laugh.

            The campsite could not have been laid out any better.  A long back-in approach left us plenty of room to unpack boxes, coolers, and suitcases, and still have room to stack firewood and set up tents on a perfect length tent site, something not always easy to find for a 16 x 10 tent.  The table fit nicely inside the screen and the fire ring is far enough from both the tents to avoid sparks.

            The park itself is beautiful, lakes, valleys, mountain tops to hike—no hike longer than three to four hours, some appreciably shorter.  The bathhouses are clean with plenty of hot water and strong sprays from large showerheads.  The campsites afford as much or as little privacy as one wants—take your pick.  It is quiet and peaceful, yet only ten minutes from grocery, gas, and pharmacy.

            We’ve been here six days now—perfect park, perfect campsite, perfect weather.  We haven’t even had our customary day of rain, nor even an overcast morning.  So this is not the trip to test our mettle as campers.  It’s all been way too perfect.  But you know what?  We won’t have many stories to tell from this trip.  Oh wait!  Our forty year old electric blanket did give out on us the first—the coldest—night.  And don’t you see?  That’s the story we’ll be telling—and that’s when we found out we were seasoned campers.  We shrugged our shoulders and snuggled a little closer together in the double sleeping bag.

            Peter tells us that God will test our mettle as His servants.  Wherein you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been put to grief in manifold trials, that the proof of your faith, being 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, 1 Pet 1:6-7.

            Too often, instead of passing the test, we use it as an excuse.  We say, “I know I didn’t do well, but after all, I was dealing with such difficult circumstances.”  Instead of growing and getting better and stronger, we blow up as usual and then apologize yet again.  If we were really improving, the apologies would become less frequent, and one day, perhaps, unnecessary.  That’s what God expects of us.

            He doesn’t look down and say, “Well, I know they can handle this trial.”  Why should He bother sending it?  Instead, the test comes and after we pass He looks down, as He did on Mt Moriah and says, “Now I know.”

            And it’s those tests that give us the experience to help others and the strength to endure more.  God never promised us perfect lives here on this sin-cursed world.  He did not promise you fame and fortune (no matter what Joel Osteen says).  He did not promise perfect health, perfect families, or even perfect brethren.  What He did promise is a perfect reward after we successfully navigate what amounts to, in the perspective of Eternity, a moment or two of imperfection.

            But only if you have the mettle.
 
When they had preached the gospel to that city and had made many disciples, they returned to Lystra and to Iconium and to Antioch, strengthening the souls of the disciples, encouraging them to continue in the faith, and saying that through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God, Acts 14:21-22.
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

In Acts 5, the Apostles are brought before the Sanhedrin who are enraged that they have turned Jerusalem upside down by teaching Jesus and the resurrection. After some deliberation, the Sanhedrin had the Apostles beaten and then ordered them not to continue preaching Jesus. Given Jewish custom each Apostle was probably beaten 39 times with a cane. This was not a minor punishment to shake off easily. Then comes Acts 5:41 “They therefore departed from the presence of the council rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the Name.”

I have never understood that verse. I mean, the words are easy enough to understand. I know what the sentence means, but I have never been able to grasp how they could feel that way. “Rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer”? It doesn’t make sense! One of the outstanding things about the Bible is how human it is. The people described in it act like people would normally act in those circumstances. Even when the cultures differ, we can understand why people with those cultures would act the way the Bible says they act. Except this verse. In all the Bible, this is the verse that has always rung untrue for me: these are supermen, not real people! I’ve heard sermons and sat in Bible classes about this bit of scripture and the preachers/teachers try their best to explain, but my biggest impression of those sermons/classes has always been that they don’t really fathom the idea either. Really, how can anyone think that it is an honor to suffer? Keeping the faith through suffering, yes. But to be counted (or considered) worthy to suffer is an honor? I don’t get it.

Or didn’t until after I had completed teaching my class on Job. A few weeks after I had concluded that class I thought of Acts 5 and a lightbulb went off. You see, in the class we had discussed how God had carefully picked Job as the person to go through these trials. Notice that in Job 1 it is God who calls Satan’s attention to Job by holding Job up as an exemplar of what a righteous person should be. By allowing Satan to persecute Job, God was proving that the righteous will love Him because of who He is, not because of blessings being showered down. Job lived that. Instead of cursing God, as Satan predicted, Job glorified God and worshipped. Satan was proven wrong and is not heard from again in the book. God had carefully picked Job as the one who could undergo suffering and triumph in his faith. Oddly, it was a compliment from God that Job was allowed to suffer.

Think about your job. Doesn’t the boss have certain people he goes to when really tough tasks come up? They are the best workers he has available. He isn’t punishing those people with hard work, he just knows that they are best equipped to handle it. The hard task shows his confidence in those employees and is, essentially, a compliment. So it is when we are allowed to suffer for the Name of Jesus. God understands that we can handle those trials and come through for Him. (1 Cor. 10:13). It is an honor to be chosen to suffer for Him.

Let me tell you, if God were to replay the events of Job today, He wouldn’t pick me as the person He held up to Satan. When I said that, most/all of my class nodded in agreement that they would not be picked either. It takes true spiritual maturity and deep faith to accept all that Job handled in those first two chapters and to then say “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord”. In picking Job, God considered him worthy to suffer for Him. I’m not sure there is a higher compliment God gives. And this is why the Apostles rejoiced that they had been considered worthy. It reinforced for them God’s faith in them. And that would make anyone feel good.

If I never find myself suffering for Christ, maybe it is because He has no confidence in me. In that case, I need to step it up so that I may join in the Apostles’ rejoicing one day.
Lucas Ward