Most of the time people assume that because I am not in the middle of a crisis, everything is fine with these eyes of mine.  It is difficult to understand that they are surviving on “borrowed time,” that they have outlived the prognosticators, and that any day could be the beginning of the end for my vision.
            Occasionally someone still asks about the things I have been through, and I still answer them without thinking--until they begin to shudder, and I take pity and stop.  One experience in particular makes people shrink about half their size as their shoulders draw in and their chins drop to their chests with a groan.  Even the everyday isn’t pleasant.  Eye drops are some of the most painful medications in existence, and an evening headache is par for the course.
            “Is it worth it?” some asked.  In fact, one person tried to talk me out of any more surgeries.
            Is it worth it?  I began all these procedures before either of my grandsons was born.  Without them, I would never have seen those sweet, tiny faces.  Was it worth the pain and the terror I sometimes felt right before yet another sharp instrument or harsh chemical headed for my eyeballs?  Do I even need to answer that?   My doctor thinks I am strong.  No—I was a grandmother in prospect, and a stubborn one at that.
            Some people obviously do not think the Lord is worth any sort of pain at all.  They give up when it gets difficult, and “difficult” can just mean they have problems with relationships, or they must give up activities they enjoy.  They have yet to encounter physical pain; the emotional pain was all it took.
            Keith and I have received threats in the mail, threats that the FBI took seriously enough to send an investigator to look into.  We have endured gossip and slander that spread a couple hundred miles.  We came within two days of being homeless because of, as Paul called them, “false brethren.”  Was it worth it? 
            As we enter old age, looking to the end is no longer a distant view, and that makes it comforting to know that we have a reward waiting for us precisely because we endured those things.  We have yet to face physical torture, and though I no longer consider that an impossibility in this country, I doubt it will reach that point before we are gone.  To have put up with any sort of pain for the Lord, emotional or otherwise, is a blessing.  Finally I understand how the disciples could “count it all joy” to give up or endure something for the Lord who gave up all for us, even if that something is trivial comparatively speaking.
            Was it worth it?  Yes, Heaven is worth it all, but gratitude should ultimately reach the point that merely being able to sacrifice for the Lord is worth even more.  True spiritual maturity revels in seeing our Lord and Savior, not in seeing Paradise; in the ability to serve a God we can see before us, not in being pain- and worry-free forever; in being beside the Father who loves us, not in enjoying one giant eternal party.
            Sometimes going through pain in life, pain that has nothing to do with your Christianity, opens your eyes to spiritual things.  Was that physical pain worth it?  Did it give you a longer life?  A better quality of life?  Did it give you more time with your loved ones?  Usually that is enough to make it “worth it.”  Now ask yourself, what can you make it through for the Lord?  Will it be worth it?  God has the ability to make it so, but only you can make the decision to endure.
 
Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. But let none of you suffer as a murderer or a thief or an evildoer or as a meddler. Yet if anyone suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God in that name. 1 Peter 4:12-16
           
Dene Ward
 

     One thing our utter ignorance about the Psalms has done to us, is make us think we should never worry, never doubt, never complain to our Father.  We talk about maintaining a "stiff upper lip" and never losing our smile, about showing nothing but calm assurance when the trials of life afflict us again and again.  No wonder so many of us just give up and leave.
     I hear even from pulpits that the Book of Psalms is a book of praise.  That is just plain ignorant.  When it comes to sorting out and labeling psalms, the majority of them are psalms of lament.  We think we should never complain to God because that is a sign of ingratitude.  The ancient Jews knew otherwise.  God wants to hear our complaints.  Those complaints show Him that we are dependent upon Him, that we recognize that all our blessings come from Him and that He is the only one who can fix our problems, all of which are signs of great faith.  Let's look at a few of those complaints.

My heart is in anguish within me: And the terrors of death are fallen upon me. Fear and trembling come upon me, And horror overwhelms me (Psalm 55:4-5).
Hear my cry, O God, listen to my prayer; from the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint… (Psalm 61:1-2).
For my days pass away like smoke, and my bones burn like a furnace. My heart is struck down like grass and has withered; I forget to eat my bread. Because of my loud groaning my bones cling to my flesh. I am like a desert owl of the wilderness, like an owl of the waste places; I lie awake; I am like a lonely sparrow on the housetop (Psalm 102:3-7).

     These psalms are by people of God, including David.  Do you see the words they have chosen?  Anguish, terror, fear and trembling, faint heart.  The psalmist is so upset he can't sleep, he can't eat, and this has been going on so long that he has lost weight ("my bones cling to my flesh").  Most of us would chide him for his lack of faith, but only true faith will believe it can go to God with anything, describing his feelings freely.  Only true faith trusts that God cares and will not only hear, but act on our prayers.  We need to get our perspective in the same order as those earlier believers before our mistaken idea of faith destroys us.
     It's all right to be afraid.  It's all right to wonder if God has abandoned you.  It's all right to weep aloud and complain with all you have within you.  For those very complaints and meditations will lead us to a new understanding of faith as well as a deeper variety of faith.  After the psalmists complain, they inevitably restate their trust to an even stronger degree in a God they know loves them.  Look at the endings of all those psalms we quoted above.

But I call to God, and the LORD will save me. ​Evening and morning and at noon I utter my complaint and moan, and he hears my voice (Ps 55:16-17).
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I, for you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the enemy.  For you, O God, have heard my vows; you have given me the heritage of those who fear your name. (Psalm 61:2,3,5).
For the LORD builds up Zion; he appears in his glory; he regards the prayer of the destitute and does not despise their prayer (Psalm 102:16-17).

     Lest we think this only applied in the Old Testament, and today we should never show fear, doubt, or upset, let alone complain, let's see what Paul had to say about that.

For even when we came into Macedonia, our bodies had no rest, but we were afflicted at every turn— fighting without and fear within (2 Corinthians 7:5).  Sounds to me like Paul is admitting that he was afraid.

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 (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).  This sounds like people shared their problems not only with one another, but with God first.

     Over and over we will find exhortations to help the afflicted, to pray for the afflicted, the comfort the afflicted, to "weep with those who weep".  None of this sounds like a people who suffer in silence.
     It's okay to be afraid when life hands you something scary.  Never think that fear and trembling during those times is a lack of faith and trust in God.  Maybe those things were meant to turn you to Him more often, more diligently, and more intensely.  Complain with all your heart, but complain to the God who can help you through it, and who will do His best to lend you the comfort you need in those times.  In your complaint, you will find your faith.

Answer me quickly, O LORD! My spirit fails! Hide not your face from me, lest I be like those who go down to the pit. ​Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love, for in you I trust. Make me know the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul (Psalm 143:7-8).

Dene Ward

I knew a woman once, a faithful Christian, who believed that crying over the death of a loved one was sinful.  She bravely, some would say, faced the loss of a child to a dread disease with a smile.  No one ever saw a tear leave her eyes.  I know a lot of people who agree with her, a lot of people who would applaud her as “strong and full of faith.”  I don’t.  In fact, that erroneous belief of hers affected both her physical and mental health for the rest of her life.  It also made her unsympathetic to others she should have been best able to comfort. 
            God created us and He made within us the impulse to cry, just as He made other appetites and needs.  He never expected us not to cry, not to mourn, and not to grieve.  Do you want some examples?  Abraham cried when Sarah died, Gen 23:2.  Jonathan and David cried when they realized they would not be together again in this lifetime, 1 Sam 20:41, and David cried again when he heard that Jonathan, and even Saul, were dead, 2 Sam 3:32.  Hezekiah “wept bitterly” when he heard that he had a terminal illness, 2 Kgs 20:3.  Paul wept real tears when he suffered for the Lord, Acts 20:19, and he wept for those who had fallen from the way, Phil 3:19.  Where do we get this notion that righteous, faithful people never cry?
            1 Thes 4:13 does not say we sorrow not over the death of loved ones.  It says we sorrow not as others do who have no hope.  “As” means in the same manner.  Yes we sorrow, but not in the same way.  We know something more awaits us.  Our sorrow is tempered with the knowledge that we will one day be together again, but that does not mean the sorrow ceases to exist—it simply changes. 
            I cried often after my Daddy died, usually when I saw something he had made for me, or given me, or repaired that I had thought was a goner.  He was handy that way, and I miss the care he showed for me in those small gestures.  Even now, writing these things makes my eyes burn and water just a bit, several years after his passing.  But I do not, and I have never, let grief consume me and keep me from my service to God and to others.  I have not let it destroy my faith—my hope—that I will see him again and be with him forever.
            Anyone who thinks that crying is faithless sits with Job’s cold, merciless friends.  Job did cry.  Job did ask God why.  Job did complain with all his might about the things he was experiencing, yet “in all this Job sinned not with his lips” Job 2:10.  What did he get from his friends?  Nothing but accusation and rebuke.  “Have pity upon me, oh you my friends,” he finally wails in 19:21.  Paul says we are to “weep with those who weep,” Rom 12:15.  If weeping were sinful, shouldn’t he have told us to, as Job’s friends did, rebuke them instead?  No, God plainly says at the end of the book that Job’s friends were the ones who were wrong.
            And, of course, Jesus cried.  I have heard Bible classes tie themselves into knots trying to make it okay for Jesus to cry at the tomb of Lazarus.  How about this?  He was sad!  To try to take that sadness away from Him strips Him of the first sacrifice He made for us when He carefully and deliberately put on humanity.  Hebrews says He was “tempted in all points like us yet without sin.”  That means He experienced sadness, and people who are sad cry.
            Do you think He can’t understand our specific problems because He never lost a child? 
            And when he drew near he saw the city and wept over it…O Jerusalem, Jerusalem…how often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings and you would not, Luke 19:41; Matt 23:37.  When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. The more they were called, the more they went away; they kept sacrificing to the Baals and burning offerings to idols. Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk; I took them up by their arms, but they did not know that I healed them. I led them with cords of kindness, with the bands of love, and I became to them as one who eases the yoke on their jaws, and I bent down to them and fed them... How can I give you up, O Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel? How can I make you like Admah? How can I treat you like Zeboiim? My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender, Hos 11:1-4,11.
            Anyone who cannot hear the tears in those words is probably not a parent yet.  God knows what it is like to lose a child in the worst way possible--spiritually.  Don’t tell the Lord it’s a sin to cry.
            I have seen too many people nearly ruin themselves trying to do the impossible.  I have seen others drive the sorrowful away with a cold lack of compassion.  Grieving is normal.  Grieving is even good for you, and God knows that better than anyone since He made our minds and bodies to do just that.  How much of a promise would it be to “wipe away all tears from their eyes” if He expected us to do it now?  In fact, David asks God in a poignant psalm to collect his tears in His bottle—don’t forget that I am sad, Lord.  Don’t let my tears simply fall to the ground and dry up, keep count of them--“keep them in your book” Psa 56:8.  Do you think He would have preserved that psalm for us if crying were a sin?
            If you have lost someone near and dear, if you have received a bad diagnosis, if you have been afflicted in any way, go ahead and cry.  This isn’t Heaven after all.  But don’t lose your faith.  Sorrow as one who does have hope, as the father of the faithful did, as the “man after God’s own heart did,” as one of the most righteous kings Judah ever had did, as perhaps the greatest apostle did, even as the Lord did.  Let it out so you can heal, and then go on serving your Lord.  His hand will be on you, and one day—not now, but one day--He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. Revelation 21:4
 
Dene Ward

I had heard bad news the night before, and after a night of crying and praying, had completely passed the grief stage and was well into rage.  I furiously weeded the flower beds, flinging dirt and weeds as hard as I could.  At least it served a purpose.  In Florida, you can’t just hoe the weeds and expect them to die.  Anything green will re-root by morning in this humid climate unless you completely remove it from the garden. 
            I was black to my elbows and sweating profusely when it crossed my mind to wonder if it might just be all right to curse if I were cursing Satan.  Chloe sat next to me, tilting her head back and forth in confusion.  Finally, when the convulsive sobbing started, she tucked her tail between her legs and slunk off in the direction of the porch, with a bewildered look over her shoulder at me.
            In a moment of clarity awhile later, I realized that I had reached a milestone in my spiritual life.  Automatically, without even having to think about it, I had directed my rage at the right person.  Instead of blaming God, I had blamed the one who twists every good thing into ugliness.  For once I had never even had a question about why this particular thing had happened.  I knew why it had happened—because the enemy of God is the enemy of every one of his faithful children too.
            So why doesn’t God keep anything bad from happening to those children?  Maybe the same reason a good parent doesn’t shield his child from the result of his own mistakes.  Maybe the same reason we make them eat their vegetables and get their shots.  Causing pain is not always bad, not if you want to build healthy bodies and strong characters.  But who am I to even ask or say anything definitive about the matter?  This is all I can say:
            His faithfulness is everlasting, Psa 119:90.
            He loves justice and will not forsake his saints, Psa 37:28.
            His love is steadfast, Psa 89:2.
            There is no unrighteousness in him, Psa 92:15.
            He made all things very good, Gen 1:31, and is the only one who is good, Luke 18:19. 
            He cannot be tempted with evil, and is never the cause of temptation, James 1:13.
            Does any of that sound like the one we should blame about anything?  Most of our problems come because of the freewill God created in us, yet even that freewill is a good thing for it means we can choose to love and serve God rather than being the pawns of a pagan notion of destiny.  It means He can know that our service is willing and not forced, and that our love for Him is just as genuine as His for us.
            That means we will have to put up with things we don’t like, with things that hurt and cause us pain because a long time ago one of us chose the wrong way, and suddenly there was evil in the world.  But isn’t it wonderful that the justice of God says that, while we may have to live with the effects of that choice, we aren’t saddled with its guilt—we can make our own choices.
            Remember when bad things befall you who to blame.  Go out to your flower beds and remind yourself what the scriptures call him each time you rip out a weed and fling it with all your might--the Accuser, the Adversary, the Enemy, the Evil One, the father of lies, the Prince of demons, the Ruler of this world, that old Serpent, the Tempter.  Why in the world would we ever think Someone Else was to blame?
 
 
This I recall to my mind; therefore have I hope. It is of Jehovah's lovingkindnesses that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness. Jehovah is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him. Jehovah is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeks him. It is good that a man should hope and quietly wait for the salvation of Jehovah. Lam 3:21-26
 
Dene Ward

When I was teaching piano and voice, my students often participated in an evaluation day at the university with judges rating their performances—superior, excellent, very good, good, and fair.  When I was a child I participated in the same event and the words given as ratings were exactly what they said they were.  Even a “very good” was very good. 
            By the time my students participated we were well into the philosophy of promoting self-esteem by never telling a child he was wrong about anything.  The vast majority of the 1000 entrants received a superior, which simply meant he didn’t play or sing more than a few wrong notes.  It had nothing to do with his musicianship or his artistry.  If a judge handed out more excellents than superiors, he was taken aside and enlightened.  As a result only a small handful of “very goods” ever hit the rating sheet, and news of a “good” spread like the plague, with exactly the same reception.  Everyone knew that a “very good” wasn’t, and a “good” was just plain awful.  Judges were actually forbidden to even look at the “fair” rating, much less circle it.
            That may be why “good” means little to us these days.  It is probably why we just read right over it when Luke calls Joseph of Arimathea and Barnabas “good” men.  Luke did not use that term lightly; those were the only two times I found that particular Greek word used of a man. 
            So can we ever hope to become so good that term can be used of us, the same term that Jesus used of God?  Only if, like God, that goodness becomes an intrinsic part of us, a goodness that exists no matter what happens on the outside, no matter what anyone else says or does. 
            Jesus seemed to expect it.  You brood of vipers! How can you speak good, when you are evil? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. The good person out of his good treasure brings forth good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure brings forth evil. Matthew 12:34-35.  There is the word, agathos.  A good person can only do good things if his heart is good, so if I am not doing them, something in my heart needs to be changed.
            “But that’s just not who I am,” won’t cut it with the Lord.  He expects us to change who we are.  He expects us to turn that evil heart into a good one, one that is good the way God is good, simply by its nature.  But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. Luke 6:35.  There it is again, that same word, or a compound of it in this case, a “do-gooder.”  If you want to be a child of God, that’s what you have to be.
            Jesus makes it even plainer a little later.  Becoming “good” is not an option. It is not something we can do on the outside, while harboring a heart of evil or malice towards others.  It is not something we can do by rote without compassion.  It is the thing that will determine our destiny.  Well done, good and faithful servant.  Enter into the joy of your lord, Matt 25:21. 
            “Good” is a very special word in the Bible.  It isn’t passed out profligately so we can keep our self-esteem intact.  It isn’t bandied about simply because of good deeds or loud hallelujahs.  It is a quality so deep that if one ceases to exist in this life, so does that much goodness in the world.  “Only one is Good,” Jesus said, in the absolute sense.  That doesn’t mean he doesn’t expect us to become good as much as is humanly, with a little help from God, possible.
 
And let us not grow weary of well doing, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith. Galatians 6:9-10
 
Dene Ward
 

I imagine many of us grew up using that phrase in the first prayer we ever uttered at the table.  Maybe that is why we are so prone to say, “God is good,” and indeed He is.  We will shout it to the world.  When?  When we get exactly what we want.  When what we pray for comes to pass.  When life is easy and carefree and comfortable.  And that means we have absolutely no understanding of the goodness of God.  We are, in fact, showing ourselves to be those same immature little children uttering a memorized grace. 
            Jesus said in Mark 10:18.  Why do you call me good?  There is none good except God alone.  That Greek word is agathos.  I am not a Greek scholar and at this age, never will be, but I can tell when one Greek word is used and when another is simply by looking at the letters.  Here is the difference in this one.  God is good whether I get what I want or not.  God is good whether life is easy or not.  God is good even in the midst of storms and trials and disease and pain.  The goodness of God never changes because it is intrinsic to His nature.  That’s what that word means.  Nothing on the outside of Him affects that goodness.  It always is because it is part of who He is.  God is good because He is God.
            We too often mean a different Greek word when we shout, “God is good.”  Kalos means something is good only when it is beautiful, valuable, or useful to the person judging it so.  It is an extrinsic quality, affected by circumstances on the outside of it.  Thus, by  using this Greek word, we mean that a person would cease to be “good” if he became disabled or too ill to work, or if she were no longer beautiful due to age.  If the only time I utter the phrase, “God is good,” is when my prayers are answered in a positive way, then that is exactly what I am saying about God.  If I were a first century Greek, I would be calling him kalos instead of agathos.  He is only good when He is useful to me, just like children who “love” their parents when a wish is fulfilled, but say, “You’re so mean,” when they get a “No.” 
            So how do we feel about God?  Do we understand that He is good simply because He is, or do we feel the right to judge His goodness based on our own desires?  The real test of my understanding of the nature of God comes when, in the wake of disaster, I can say along with Job, “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away.  Blessed be the name of the Lord” (1:21).
 
Moses said, "Please show me your glory." And he said, "I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you my name 'The LORD.' And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy…The LORD passed before him and proclaimed, "The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children and the children's children, to the third and the fourth generation." And Moses quickly bowed his head toward the earth and worshiped. Ex 33:18,19; 34:6-8.
 
Dene Ward

I was humming that old tune a few weeks ago when I suddenly thought of that phrase in a slightly different light.  “Tell me about it!” we sometimes say to people who are complaining about something, not realizing that we have had the same or worse experience.  Or sometimes people say it to us, and if we are as mature as we like to believe, we suddenly stop whining out of sheer embarrassment, realizing that here is not only one who has had the same experience, but to an even worse degree.  I often wish Jesus were here to say that to those who complain about his church.
            So they hurt your feelings?  They didn’t come see you when you were sick, they didn’t help you when you were depressed, they didn’t praise you in public after you did a good deed, the preacher preached a sermon that stepped on your toes, and you don’t like the way the Bible class teacher looked right at you when he mentioned a particular sin. 
            Tell it to Jesus.  No one complimented him on his sermons. They usually just got mad and walked away.  Even his own disciples scolded him for insulting the Jewish rulers.  They called him a liar, a blasphemer, a madman, demon-possessed, and a child of fornication, none of which was true.  He didn’t sit there pouting, he kept right on teaching, right on serving, even people who didn’t deserve it, like you and me.
            So the elders won’t listen to you, especially when you think you have discovered something new.  They won’t use you in the way you think you should be used.  You aren’t asked to lead the singing as often as you think you should, or teach the classes you think you should be allowed to teach.  They won’t give in to your pet ideas about how things should be said or done or presented.  So why should you bother to try any longer?  Why should you keep a good attitude, or do the things you are asked to do as well as you can when you aren’t even appreciated?
            Tell it to Jesus.  I found ten passages in the gospels where the people in charge “communed with one another” to see how “they might destroy him.”  At least seven of those ten were completely different events.  Has anyone in the church done that to you yet?  Has anyone taken up rocks to stone you?  Has anyone nearly pushed you over a cliff?  Has anyone even come close to crucifying you yet?
            No, but the church is full of hypocrites.  Why should I even have to sit in the same building with them?  Why can’t I just leave and do it my own way?  You know their two-faced worship isn’t acceptable to God, so why must I keep company with them? 
          Tell it to Jesus.  He never stopped attending the synagogues on the Sabbath, and that wasn’t even part of the Law, it was simply a tradition that had begun after the return from the captivity.  He still attended the feast days right along with all those horrible people, even the Feast of Dedication, which was just a civil holiday.  He never left the work God gave him to do because someone hurt his feelings.  He never quit because people didn’t give him the due he deserved.  He never allowed the sins of others to cause him to forsake the God who deserved his love and loyalty.
            Are you going to let those phonies do that to you?  If you do, doesn’t that make you one of them?
 
…The LORD is with you while you are with him. If you seek him, he will be found by you, but if you forsake him, he will forsake you. 2 Chronicles 15:2
 
Dene Ward

I truly hope that things are better now, but as late as 30 years ago, the Lord's church was possibly one of the most unloving, unsympathetic organizations on God's green earth—at least when it came to these women.  And you are wondering what in the world I could be talking about, aren't you?  Look at the title of this essay and think a moment.
            I am talking about women whose husbands have abandoned them, and often their children too, for the world and other women.  Let me use the words of several of these women—I have known about a dozen of these poor souls—to make my point.
            One of them said to me when I invited her to our services some time ago, "It's been my experience that the churches of Christ are not welcoming to divorced women."  Nothing I could say about my then church family could persuade her otherwise.  Another told me, similarly, "They always wonder what I did wrong, and a few have had the nerve to ask me."
            Let me tell you, that's the first thing these women ask themselves when their husbands leave.  They don't need us asking too.  When Jesus gave this one exception for divorce he did not add, "unless she was a nag, or a bad cook, or a poor housekeeper, or gained too much weight, etc."  If a man commits adultery against the woman he vowed to love and cherish for the rest of his life, that's all it took in Jesus' eyes to put him away and still be right with God.  How dare any of us add to His Word?
            Another woman said she was shunned by the other women of the congregation, and somehow it came back to her that they were afraid that now she would want their husbands.  Excuse me?  She wasn't the one who broke up a home, her husband was.  Talk about unjust judgment.
            Another told me it wasn't just she who was shunned, but her children as well.  After all, statistics say that people from broken homes are more likely to have broken homes themselves. We wouldn't want our sons or daughters to be dating her children and possibly marry them!  And so we shun innocent children?  Shame on us.
            As if these terrible injustices were not bad enough, the faith of these women is also questioned.  One had lost her home when her husband left and paid no alimony or child support.  She, who had been a stay-at-home mom, had to work two jobs to keep a roof over their heads and food in their tummies.  When she was offered a job that had great benefits and paid enough for them to survive on only the one job, she counted it a blessing from God and took it.  But others looked only at the fact that it was an evening shift job and she had to miss both Sunday evening and Wednesday evening services.    One of the church leaders' wives said to her, "If you had enough faith, you wouldn't take that job."  Yet this was a woman who came to both Sunday morning services plus the weekday morning women's Bible study without fail.  She is one of the kindest, most generous, good-hearted Christians I have ever known.  She loves to study the Word of God, and does so every day.  Neither she nor the other women I have known, except the first one I spoke of, have left the Lord despite how His other children have treated them.  Now let's compare faith, shall we?
            I hope this situation has changed everywhere, instead of just the few churches I am aware of who are, indeed, better.  Imagine struggling to make ends meet, trying to overcome for your children the horrible example of a faithless father, and having no one to turn to, not even in that group who should be comforting, loving, helping, and encouraging.  Now imagine what the Lord himself would say to that group.  You do not want to hear those words.
 
And he said unto his disciples, It is impossible but that occasions of stumbling should come; but woe unto him, through whom they come! It were well for him if a millstone were hanged about his neck, and he were thrown into the sea, rather than that he should cause one of these little ones to stumble (Luke 17:1-2).
 
Dene Ward
 

My jasmine vine had a super-trellis built by a man who believes that if a little is good, more is better. 
            The trellis itself is a lattice of thick metal wires called a “cow panel,” used for the gate portion of pasture fence.  A cow isn’t even going to bend it, much less push through it.  The panel was stood on end and woven through a piece of twenty foot antenna mast set five feet deep into the ground.  The fifteen feet above ground was held steady by nylon cord tied to two nearby trees.
            The jasmine had already been growing five years, twisting its way up the fifteen feet of lattice work, and hanging over the top at least four feet.  Most of the blooms were bunched near the top every year, the sides down toward the bottom thinner in both leaf and blossom.  Still that huge vine was a beauty every spring and its scent often wafted on the breeze a good fifty feet away.
            Then one summer, after the spring blooms had been spent, an afternoon thunderstorm blew through.  Winds gusting up to forty miles an hour bore down on our property, littering the yard with limbs and twigs, moss and air plants.  Afterward, we walked the place mentally adding up the hours of clean-up in our future.  Then we headed down the drive and when we passed the two azaleas and two young oaks announcing the beginning of our yard, we saw the jasmine.
            The two cords had snapped from the tension the winds had put on them and then the mast had simply bent over in a salaam toward the wood pile.  It wasn’t broken or even creased, just bowed in an arc.  The weight of that vine simply couldn’t stand on its own against the gusts.  The “top” of the trellis now hung only a foot or so off the ground.  Keith got beneath it and tried to stand it up, but the weight was too much for him alone.  It would take at least two men pushing, while a truck pulled with a rope. 
            A few days later, before we had had a chance to do anything about it, we walked out again and discovered new growth all over the “side” of the jasmine vine, the side that was now the “top.”  It looked like the vine would not only survive, but thrive.  So we found a section of 8 inch PVC pipe that would stand on its end six feet high, and used it to prop the end of the bent trellis.
            Within a few weeks the shoots on the vine were thickening all over the new top, and dangling off the sides.  It was obvious we would no longer have a fifteen foot tall sentinel welcoming guests, but a fifteen foot long hedge four feet high would do just as nicely. 
            The next spring white blossoms covered the entire length of it, not just the mass at the end that used to be the top.  The white was almost solid because the blooms were so thick and on some mornings you could smell it all the way across the field.   
            We don’t realize it, but the times when the storms of life hit us, are often the times our faith and strength show best.  When a trellis stands on its own on a calm day, so what if the vine blooms?  Would we expect otherwise?  But when the storm comes and the trellis is damaged, yet it not only continues to support the vine the best it can, but the blooms actually increase, now that’s worth noticing. 
            When life is easy, of course we can stay faithful.  Isn’t that what Satan said about Job?  But when a trial comes along, how we handle it can be a far more powerful witness of Christ in us than any service we might have given, any class we might have taught, any monetary donation we might have offered.  Just like that bent over jasmine, our blooms will show brighter and influence more people when we faithfully endure the worst Satan flings at us.
            Are you dealing with a storm in your life?  Don’t think your usefulness to God and his people is finished.  Don’t think that because some servant of Satan blew you over that you have lost your value.  How you handle it, the fact that you keep on standing for the Lord, even if a little bent, will be seen by many more than ever before.  The blooms will be so thick, and the scent so heady, that your example will not be missed.  You may think you are of no more benefit to God, but He says otherwise.  Those who appreciate you will stand under your bower and give you support, but the work you are doing as you persevere is still a service far more precious than you could ever have imagined.
 
 
But the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day. Prov 4:18
 
 
Dene Ward

My grandson came by for a quick visit recently.  I spent a couple of hours preparing the house, putting up the things that might hurt him and the things that could get him into trouble.  Then I put out the old toys his daddy used to play with, the “new” ones I had picked up at a thrift store, the crayons, a small plastic chair I had bought for him, as well as my old rocking chair, the one I sat in until I outgrew it.
            You are never really sure what a two year old will find interesting.  Their likes and dislikes change with every mood.  I picked up blueberries and chicken nuggets, two of his favorite things, at least the last time I was with him.  That doesn’t mean he will like them this time.  At least I know that about toddlers.  It would have been more helpful to have been able to remember well my own preschool days.  Then I might have stood a better chance of pleasing him.  All of that is entirely normal. 
            In fact, that is normal in every case.  If you could climb into the mind of the person you are trying to relate to, wouldn’t it be much easier to understand them and get along?  A long time ago, Job said the same thing about man and God.  There was no one who could “lay his hand on both” God and man, 9:33. 
            Which is precisely why the Word “became flesh and dwelt among us,” John 1:14.  The Hebrew writer says, “He had to be made like his brothers in every respect” so that he could become our high priest, our intercessor, the one who stands between us and God, laying his hand on both because he understands both worlds, 2:17.  Paul makes it plain in 1 Tim 2:5 that Jesus is the only one of the Godhead who fulfills that requirement--There is one mediator between God and man, himself man, Christ Jesus.
            So now we cannot say, “No one understands.”  Jesus went through a lot of pain and sorrow and injustice and indignity just so he could understand.  Any time we excuse ourselves with something like, “Well of course he could overcome sin, he was the Son of God!” we are demeaning the sacrifice he made for us, and the things he bore on our behalf so he could be “the missing link” between our Father and his children.  We are saying that he doesn’t, and can never understand what it is like to be human.
            The Son of God is also the Son of Man.  He knows how we think, he knows how we feel, and he knows what we can and cannot endure.  He sits at the right hand of God even now, making intercession for us, Rom 8:34, because he searches our hearts and knows what is in them (v 27 with Rev 2:23).
            I may make a mistake about what will pique the interest of my two year old grandson.  Christ will never make the same mistake about us.
 
This makes Jesus the guarantor of a better covenant. The former priests were many in number, because they were prevented by death from continuing in office, but he holds his priesthood permanently, because he continues forever. Consequently, he is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them, Heb 7:22-25.

Dene Ward