Today's post is by guest writer, Lucas Ward.

I'll bet most of us have a shared experience in growing up.  As children we'd be disappointed and the manner in which our hopes were crushed would tweak our childish sense of justice.  We'd cry out, "That's not fair!", to which our mothers would inevitably reply, "Well, life isn't fair."  Though none of us liked this reply it taught us that sometimes life doesn't work the way we think is just and we have to keep living anyway.  We have to learn to overcome the unfairness and accomplish our goals or else accept that our lives aren't going to go the way we'd hoped and learn to be content along another path.  There is a strength that comes with learning that life isn't fair. 
            Unfortunately, there is a generation growing up that never learned this lesson.  A young lady I worked with at Publix reacted with shock and a little bit of horror when I repeated the platitude.  "Life is fair," she said, "or at least I've always found it to be.  I'm sorry that you feel that life hasn't been fair to you."  At that point I was horrified.  The poor girl had no defenses built up.  When life inevitably was unjust to her, she'd most likely fold under the pressure.  She hadn't learned from an early age to ignore injustice and push through.  The more I watch the world around me, the more I'm convinced she wasn't a stand-alone case, but rather the exemplar of a generation.
            What is especially hard to take is when life is unfair BECAUSE a person is righteous.  Job is a good example of this.  We learn in 1:8 that the reason God pointed out Job to Satan is because he was "a blameless and upright man who fears God and turns away from evil."  All those horrible things happened to Job because he was good!  No wonder he proclaims in 19:6-7 that "God has put me in the wrong . . . there is no justice".  Job was crying out, "This isn't fair!" and God says that what Job said about Him was right (42:7-8).  And, let's face it, the last of the Beatitudes doesn't really sound like a blessing:  "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.  Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you." (Matt. 5:10-12)  I should be happy when I'm persecuted for righteousness?  That's the definition of not fair!  Happy when people revile and persecute me because I proclaim Jesus?  What is going on?  And yet we are told this is what we should expect:  "Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted."  (2 Tim. 3:12).
            Just as we must learn to live our lives in an unfair world, we must learn to live as Christians under even less fair circumstances.  The story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in Daniel 3 shows us the attitudes we need to face a life of such service.  I imagine we all know this story.  Nebuchadnezzar erected an idol and ordered all his officers to worship it or be burned to death. Those three young men did not worship and were hauled before the king.  They were being punished for not sinning!  Not fair!  When given a second chance by the king, they responded with "If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king.  But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up.” (Dan. 3:16-17)
            The first thing to notice is that these men did not deign to speak for God.  "If this be so [that the king was going to throw them in the furnace] our God . . . is able to deliver us".  They knew He was able, but they couldn't control what God would do.  All they could control was their own actions:  "But if not [even if God doesn't save us] . . . we will not serve your gods". 
            All too often our faith is based upon what we suppose God will do.  We believe that once we turn our lives over to God, everything will always work out for the best here on Earth.  Our financial problems will go away, our health issues will heal up, our family life will become Cleaver-esque and all temptations will cease.  When that doesn't happen, when, in fact, our lives get tougher because of our faith, we fold.  We act like that young lady at Publix who had never heard that sometimes life isn't fair.  This is the height of silliness, since we are repeatedly told that living for God will lead us to being persecuted by those who live for this world. 
            So what do we do in the face of such unfairness?  We follow Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego's example.  We focus on living for God, not matter what happens, secure in our belief that He has a plan that ultimately will lead us home to Him.  We don't dictate to God, we submit to His will.  Whatever happens in our lives, we hold to the knowledge that He is our hope of salvation.  In this, we follow the example of Job who, later in the same chapter in which he claimed "there is no justice", made one of the great confessions of faith:  "But as for me I know that my Redeemer lives, And at last he will stand up upon the earth:  And after my skin, even this body, is destroyed, Then without my flesh shall I see God" (Job 19:25-26)
            Life isn't fair.  The Christian life is even less so.  Don't worry about what God will do in each situation.  Focus on living for Him, sure in the faith that He has a plan that is leading towards your ultimate, eternal good.  Whatever destruction this life throws in our way, know this.  Hold to this:
 
"I know that my Redeemer lives"  Job 19:25
 
Lucas Ward

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 when the dark comes.  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
 

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

Anyone who knows us well knows that we have had several crises in our nearly forty-nine years together.  I've crawled out of a car after a head-on collision, hauled water into the house for a month after our well collapsed leaving us with no running water, bandaged bullet wounds after Keith was ambushed and shot five times in the line of duty, endured frightening, painful, experimental surgeries to save my vision for just a little longer, and that doesn't even cover half the list of traumatic experiences we have endured.  In every instance our brothers and sisters crowded round us with loving support and practical help.  In every area they went far beyond our expectations.
            In all these things, though, I have learned through experience, that even though the immediate crisis may be over, the after-effects linger, sometimes for years.  We are all taught to put on a smiling face—who wants to be around a moping complainer?  And so people look on a smiling widow and think she is fine.  They see a cancer or severe injury survivor who appears alive and well and don't see the lingering pain of medication side effects or horrific injuries that will never go away.  After a good while, they completely forget the life traumas that others have dealt with and continue to deal with.  Even though I am more aware than some, I do it too!
            But I have learned to send my sympathy cards a week or more after the funeral, when the incoming mail will have trickled down to nearly nothing.  To ask a cancer survivor every six months or so how their numbers are—they are usually checked every quarter and that day of waiting can be full of anxiety.  To ask a widow how she's doing for a couple of years rather than a few weeks.
            Think about some of the things you have been through that may still be bothering you with physical or emotional pain.  You aren't the only one.  But I have found this—thinking about the aftermaths others are dealing with rather than focusing on my own can help enormously.  If we all did that, no one would be left to sigh or cry alone for the long, difficult time afterward.
 
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

I will think I have it figured out. 
             I will say, “Yes, life is hard, but God never promised otherwise (despite Joel Osteen).  I can do this.” 
            Then suddenly something happens I did not expect, something that seems the opposite of everything I have prayed for, and I wilt.  That’s when it is all too easy to fall into the “Why me?” trap.  The “I’ve done all this for you and look what I get in return,” con.  Jeremiah fell too.
            The prophets never had easy lives.  Hosea, Ezekiel, Amos, and Jeremiah are prime examples, and maybe Jeremiah more than any of them.  Check out 15:10-21.  Because of the poetic and figurative language it can be difficult to get the full impact, so if you will allow, I am going to paraphrase for you.
            In many versions this is labeled “Jeremiah’s Complaint.”  That ought to give you a clue about what’s going on.
            Jeremiah says, “Everyone hates me [because of what I’ve preached on your behalf, which is implied not spoken] v 10.
            God says, “Haven’t I delivered you?” v 11.
            Jeremiah says, “I did just what you told me to and YOU have deceived me” vv15-18.
            Uh-oh, Jeremiah has gone a step too far.  God will always hear His children’s cries.  Elsewhere on this blog we studied the Psalms and discovered that there are far more lament psalms than any other kind (including praise psalms)!  But Jeremiah has accused God of sin against him.
            How do I know?  Because God tells him, “If you repent, I will restore you.  Do not become like the very people I have sent you to” v 19.
            There are two lessons in this conversation that we need to hear.  First, other people’s bad behavior never justifies bad behavior in us.  Somehow we think that we can get away with anything as long as we can say, “But look how he treated me.”  No, we can’t, and if we claim to be Jesus’ disciples, the one who When…reviled…did not revile in return; when he suffered…did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly. (1Pet 2:23), then we should know that.
            And that last phrase, “entrusting himself” to God segues nicely into the second lesson.
            “I delivered you,” God told Jeremiah.  Somehow, Jeremiah missed it.  Maybe it’s because he kept winding up imprisoned or thrown into a muddy cistern and left to die, and threatened with death almost constantly.  But God did deliver him.  Someone always came to the rescue providentially, people who just happened to be there with memory and logic, or on one occasion a foreigner who somehow had influence over the king.
            Jeremiah’s problem was that God’s idea of deliverance didn’t match his.  Here I am up to my armpits in a filthy, dank well and this is deliverance?  Yes, it was.  Instead of being killed instantly, he was left to die, which gave his rescuer an opportunity to save him.  Eventually he was pulled out of that hole to relative safety so he could preach even more.  Do you see that?  He was delivered so he could continue a hard and dangerous mission, not so he could live in luxury.
            And for us, deliverance may not look like our version of deliverance.  It may not match what we have prayed for, but that’s because God’s version often involves things we haven’t even been spiritual enough to think of.
            Do you want an example?  If you know my eye story, you know it has been going on a long, long time.  Longer than any doctor thought possible.  No, my vision is not what it used to be, but I still have some!  And what has that done for me?  It has taken away a lot things that used to take up my time, and suddenly, I am able to write, to teach, and to speak.  I have done more of that in the past fifteen years than in the thirty years before combined.
            And even now, it appears that my remaining vision is dimming.  But with the aid of lenses and large print, I can still manage the close things.  I can still study.  I can still type.  I may not be able to see the individual features of the crowd of faces in front of me, but I can still see my notes and my mouth works just fine.
            God’s idea of deliverance cost me a few things, like a music studio and some independence.  But it also delivered me to do so much more.
             Don’t whine when your deliverance is not what you hoped.  Don’t mope when your plans don’t work out, when you feel used and abused, when you think all is lost.  You may be shoulder deep in the mire right now, but that will make the deliverance even more amazing when it comes.  Just stop expecting your version and look for God’s.  In the words of the old joke, “I sent a boat and I sent a helicopter.  It’s not my fault you didn’t take me up on it.”
 
Therefore thus says the LORD: “If you return, I will restore you, and you shall stand before me. If you utter what is precious, and not what is worthless, you shall be as my mouth. They shall turn to you, but you shall not turn to them. ​And I will make you to this people a fortified wall of bronze; they will fight against you, but they shall not prevail over you, for I am with you to save you and deliver you, declares the LORD. ​I will deliver you out of the hand of the wicked, and redeem you from the grasp of the ruthless.” (Jer 15:19-21)
 
Dene Ward

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
 

A few weeks ago we piled into the car and headed off for town.  As we reached the western end of the driveway, we saw a stack of pine limbs, 12-15 feet long and still green, as if someone had simply cut them off and laid them there.  Keith stopped the car and stared.
            "What happened here?"
            We went over it together.  I had been by the spot late the afternoon before and seen only the usual foot high field of grass shaded from the afternoon sun by the line of oaks and wild cherries along the west fence.  We had a few gray clouds that evening, as we do nearly every afternoon and evening in the summer, and maybe a quick shower, but no thunderstorm.  Once the evening deepened into pure night, all was still and warm and humid—nothing unusual at all.  It may be five acres, but the distance from the house near the eastern side and the pines on the west is not really that far.  How had this happened without us knowing it?
            Obviously, a small eddy had blown through the pines, and sixty feet above ground it was stronger than you might imagine had you been standing beneath.  I have seen those eddies before.  Sometimes they stir up the dust out in the field where there is no shelter from the trees, but where the trees are thick, they stay aloft.  For it to tear large green limbs meant it was a strong one, but also localized.  Spread out it would not have done any damage.  And so it left us with a neat pile of limbs that Keith hauled to the fire pit for the coming fall.
            When these eye crises first began to hit me, my whole world turned upside down.  I couldn't keep house or cook, I couldn't teach Bible classes, and I had to close my music studio.  Eventually I missed three months of assemblies because of the pain and the appointments and the surgeries and the medication schedule.  When I did make it back and the announcements began I had a bad moment or two.  That week was a baby shower.  The next week was a wedding.  In two weeks was a potluck.  My poor little me self said, "How can they keep on having fun like this?  Don't they know my world is a shambles?"
            Of course that didn't last, but it did come to the surface.  When you are having your own personal storm, you wonder how anyone else can remain unaffected.  Don't they see how miserable you are and how dire the situation?  Don't they care anything about you at all?  Something selfish inside you wants everyone to cry with you.  Maybe that's where the old saying comes from:  Misery loves company.  I was having my own little storm in a localized area and it wasn't affecting anyone downwind.  Or so it felt.
            Okay, so where do we go with this?  First, I am reminded of the injunction to "Rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep" (Rom 12:15).  We are all to share in one another's burdens.  If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together. (1Cor 12:26).  Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body (Heb 13:3).  Knowing that others care about what is happening to you makes the trials somewhat easier to bear. 
            But there is always, as I said above, the selfishness that must be overcome.  I may be having a storm in my life.  That does not mean that anyone who does not know about it and act like the same storm is ruling their lives doesn't care.  Too many times we act like we have been specially set up to judge others in how they offer their compassion and help.  If it doesn't come when I want and the way I want, they are unloving.  And that of course, can lead to the excuse so many use for leaving the church.  "You didn't come visit me when I was in the hospital.  The elders didn't call, the preacher didn't hold my hand and pray over me, none of the members sent me a card."  Yet, when pressed in the matter you will usually find out one of two things:  the problem wasn't ignored; it was unknown because it was not shared.  Somehow everyone should just "know"—if I have to say anything, they aren't caring enough.  Or, "no one" is a gross exaggeration.
            And it also insinuates that because no one helped me the way I expected and thought they ought to, that I am now excused for any bad behavior.  For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted. (Heb 2:18).  That passage seems to imply that one of the purposes of suffering is so we can learn to help others who are also suffering.  That's what it did for the Lord I claim to be following.  I am supposed to be learning something here, not judging others.  And if I really do learn it, then it becomes my responsibility to do better than the ones I think left me high and dry--not castigating them or using them as an excuse for my own bad conduct, but showing them the way.
            Once my mind cleared that morning, I knew that others were affected by my storm.  They came in droves with hugs, welcoming me back to the assembly.  They had sent me off to difficult surgeries with hugs and money in my pockets for the expenses.  They had fasted and prayed during my scariest operation.  They had taken turns carrying me back and forth to the doctor after Keith ran out of leave time to do it.  That is usually the case when you let your brothers and sisters know your needs, when you share your fears and troubles.  If no one knows you are in a storm, that's your fault entirely.  Don't let a few moments of self-absorption steal the joy of brotherhood.
 
Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. (Gal 6:2)
 
Dene Ward

A few years ago, some young parents we knew had a child whom they discovered was legally blind.  It was possible that nothing could be done for that child, even with glasses or lenses, to correct his vision.  Because I was a child who was visually disabled myself, I wrote this letter to them.  I thought it might also be a help to you or someone you know who has a child who is disabled in any way.  Feel free to share it with anyone it might possibly help.
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We were so sorry to hear about your little one’s condition.  When your child is hurt, there is nothing quite like the pain in your heart.  Any loving parent would instantly trade places to spare him.  We will continue to think of you and especially to pray for your comfort, and that your precious little one gets the help he needs, and perhaps even less disability than you have been told.  Our God can indeed work wonders.
            But for now, may I please be so bold as to offer you a little advice?  My current vision problem did not just suddenly start—I was born with it, but no one realized it, not even my parents.  In those days children were not checked as often or as completely as they are today.  As a result, my parents treated me exactly like they would have any child.  The first four years of my life I saw nothing but a blur of color, but I was the only one who knew that, and of course, I thought everyone was that way and did not complain.  I was, in fact, legally blind, yet I still learned to feed and dress myself.  They were able to potty train me.  I memorized quickly because I couldn’t see, and that has stuck with me, at least until now when age has affected it some.  Still I probably remember things better than most people my age.
            Even after they realized something was wrong, the doctor himself did not recognize exactly what the problem was, just that “she has really bad vision.”  You probably know something about magnification in lenses.  My magnification was +17.25 and that only got me to 20/40 on a good day, and that was not even the worst of my issues.  Yet I still learned to function.  When you can’t see well you notice things that other people don’t. 
            Even with correction I couldn’t see faces across a lawn or a parking lot or even a large room.  But I knew people by their walks and hand gestures.  If I had seen them earlier in the day, I remembered the color they wore.  I couldn’t read street signs, but I knew there was a tree on that corner, or a pothole just before the turn.  You adapt when your survival, whether life and death or simply getting along in society, depends on it.
            Even if I eventually lose it all, which is probable, I still plan to be independent as long as possible.  I will probably be a widow someday, but I do not want to live with anyone, or in some care facility, until it is absolutely necessary.  I feel that way because of how I was raised.
            You need to give your child that same spirit of independence.  One thing is good and I say this from experience:  since he was born this way, he will not know what he is missing.  Don’t you make him miserable by treating him like there is something missing.  The best gift you can give him is the one my parents gave me, even if it was accidental:  treat him like a normal child.  He is normal; normal for him!  Help him learn how to get along.  Push him.  Tell him he can do it, even when you aren’t sure he can.  You’d be surprised what can be accomplished simply because a person thinks he can.  This is the loving thing for parents in your position to do.  Babying him is not.  I will be forever grateful that I was not babied—it has made me strong and able to bear far more than most.
            Now comes the hard part:  don’t let anyone baby him, and that includes grandparents.  You may have to put your foot down once in a while.  Do not be afraid to tell them, “No.”  You can do it kindly and with respect, but you have to be the one who stands up for your child against anyone’s misguided attempts to shelter him.  He is your child and God will hold you accountable for his care.  You might need to remind them of that once in a while. 
            Treating him as a normal child will also mean disciplining him that way.  It is hard enough to scold or spank the little hands of a perfectly healthy child.  You must be strong enough to do this.  Your child is counting on you to turn him into a faithful child of God and save his soul.  If you let him have his way because of his “problem,” you are only creating more problems for him to overcome—you are not loving him like you think you are.  I am forever grateful to my parents for not turning me into a selfish, and self-absorbed, adult.
            God has a purpose for all of his children, and your little one will grow up better able to serve those who have disabilities than those who have none ever could.  He will understand and sympathize and think of things that other people do not—another thing that Keith and I have discovered as our disabilities have increased.  No one even thinks to consider what we can or cannot hear, can or cannot see.  Only the disabled give us that consideration. And thus the disabled are enabled to help others.  But he won’t perform that service if you raise him to think that he is the center of the universe because of his disability.
            Please let us know if there is anything we can do for you.  Do not be too proud to use Blind Services or anything else offered to you.  It is not sinful to take help.  It will be nice to know that someone who really deserves our tax money is making use of it.  And do not be afraid, or too proud, to ask for whatever help you need from your brothers and sisters in the Lord, including us.  That’s why God put us here.
            We are praying for you as you take this journey.  It will be hard at times, but other times it will bring you even more joy than the parents of the perfectly healthy children.  Just you wait and see!
 
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
 

We were climbing to the peak that morning and had been at it for two hours.  It didn't matter that we were in deep shade and temperatures were only in the low 50s.  We had already crammed our jackets in the back pack and tied our sweatshirts around our waists.  We were pouring sweat in our tee shirts.  The higher we climbed, the steeper the trail became.  At my height, I often had to pull on a sapling to manage the natural "steps" the State Park had left for us.
            Suddenly we heard a rustling in the branches above us and a scattering of pebbles rattled down around us.  Up ahead two hikers were headed our way, having started on the other end of the trail and just come over the top.  Ragged, sweating and panting, we must have looked like we needed some encouragement.
            "You're almost there," the woman hiker said.  "The top is really steep but the way down on the other side is all switchbacks."
            It was hard to imagine anything steeper than we had already encountered, but it soon became that way.  Only the knowledge that we were "almost there" kept us going, and the relative ease of the promised switchbacks meant the worst was almost over.
            That is the power of exhortation and encouragement and that is one reason God designed fellowship. 

For I long to see you, that I may impart unto you some spiritual gift, to the end ye may be established; that is, that I with you may be comforted in you, each of us by the other's faith, both yours and mine. (Rom 1:11-12)

For I would have you know how greatly I strive for you, and for them at Laodicea, and for as many as have not seen my face in the flesh; that their hearts may be comforted, (Col 2:1)

Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing. (1Thess 5:11)

But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin. (Heb 3:13)

            Even when we do find ourselves alone, He has left us with "a great cloud of witnesses," pictured as spectators cheering us on in Hebrews 12.  Too many times what should be the home crowd might as well be the heart of enemy territory.  Why is it that a young woman announcing her pregnancy brings on every horror story of labor and delivery that every woman around her has heard or experienced?  Probably the same reason that preachers who gather together for moral support in areas where the church is small and scattered wind up trying to top one another with their bad experiences.  Brothers and sisters alike seem to focus on the negative rather than the positive.  Just exactly who will that encourage except the enemy?
            "We all sin all the time."
            "Even the best of us sin every day."
            "It's impossible for even a strong Christian to overcome sin."
            I have heard these things all my life.  They certainly give an unscriptural view of our power to overcome with the help of Christ.  And they made me feel hopeless.  Until I learned better I didn't even try that hard.  That's what focusing on the negative accomplishes—failure.
            God expects better of His children.  He expects us to help each other, not cast stumblingblocks in the way.  And He has some strong words for those who do the latter.
            I might not have made it to the top of the mountain that day if those hikers hadn't come along with encouraging words.  As you pass others making their way up the mountain of life, remember to lighten their steps with a supporting cheer.  You wouldn't want them to give up when they are so close to the top.
 
Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near. (Heb 10:23-25)
 
Dene Ward

The fifth lament is often labeled "a prayer."  This wicked nation has finally admitted its guilt and asks God to "remember," "restore," and "renew" His covenant with them.  What did it take to make them reach this point?  Being shamed and disgraced for all the world to see.  Before, they viewed themselves as the greatest nation in the world because they had been "chosen" by God.  It made them indomitable, they believed.  God would never suffer disgrace Himself and that is exactly what would happen if the people He was supposed to protect were conquered.  Their pride kept them from seeing the Truth—when they broke the covenant, God was no longer bound by it.  His bride had been unfaithful and He cast her off.  Finally, their pride was broken. 

            Remember, O LORD, what has befallen us; look, and see our disgrace! ​
       Our inheritance has been turned over to strangers, our homes to foreigners.
           We have become orphans, fatherless; our mothers are like widows.
           We must pay for the water we drink; the wood we get must be bought...​
          Slaves rule over us; there is none to deliver us from their hand. ​
         We get our bread at the peril of our lives, because of the sword in the wilderness.
          Our skin is hot as an oven with the burning heat of famine.
          Women are raped in Zion, young women in the towns of Judah. ​
          Princes are hung up by their hands; no respect is shown to the elders.
        Young men are compelled to grind at the mill, and boys stagger under loads of wood. ​
          The old men have left the city gate, the young men their music... ​
​          The crown has fallen from our head; woe to us, for we have sinned!
          (Lam 5:1-16)

Now they can admit their sin and their dependence upon God, and ask for His forgiveness.

​          Restore us to yourself, O LORD, that we may be restored! Renew our days as of old-- (Lam 5:21).

And what can we learn from this?  Pride may be one of the worst problems this generation has.  We are imbued with the notion of self-esteem from birth, it seems.  The inability to admit wrong and lower oneself in the presence of One more mighty and righteous has made it impossible to teach anyone about God and His Laws.  Everything is judged by emotion and "the right" to an opinion, instead of black and white Truth. 

I have heard more people, including Christians, arguing with God, denouncing God when things go wrong, telling God exactly what they expect Him to do for them than I ever have before.  "Why, after all my faithfulness?" they ask when a trial comes, as if God owes them a perfect life here on earth. 

There is little appreciation for the seriousness of sin, especially those "little ones."  In fact it has become something to joke about.  The fact that all it took to ruin this world was one bite from a piece of fruit seems to escape everyone's notice.  That one little bite was an open indictment of God by His creation.  "You're just being mean not to let us eat this," Adam and Eve were saying, falling headlong into Satan's trap.

In the church today we have a problem similar to Israel's.  God's people then still showed up every Sabbath Day and offered every sacrifice the Law required.  We think that because we are so careful to keep every ritual exactly the right way that we are immune from any judgment.  We have become "the chosen."  Meanwhile, our hearts are just as bad as our neighbors' and our care in following the Biblical pattern doesn't extend beyond the church house door.  A pattern of lifestyle--"conformed to the image of His Son"—never enters the equation.

The only way to reconcile ourselves to God is to surrender, to admit wrong, and to prostrate ourselves and our hearts before the Most Holy.  "The just shall live by faith,"  God told Habakkuk as the Babylonians approached, a faith that accepts the will of God and stays faithful in all areas of life, no matter how rough things may get. 

"The Babylonians" may yet fall upon us in our lives, either individually or as a group.  I can see the day drawing near in the things happening in our culture.  It's time to reject our pride and self-sufficiency if we hope to avoid the things this people had to endure in whatever fashion they may take.  Perhaps we won't have to learn these things as they did--the hard way.
 
Let us test and examine our ways, and return to the LORD! ​Let us lift up our hearts and hands to God in heaven: (Lam 3:40-41)
 
Dene Ward