And I lifted my eyes and saw, and behold, four horns! And I said to the angel who talked with me, “What are these?” And he said to me, “These are the horns that have scattered Judah, Israel, and Jerusalem.” Then the LORD showed me four craftsmen. And I said, “What are these coming to do?” He said, “These are the horns that scattered Judah, so that no one raised his head. And these have come to terrify them, to cast down the horns of the nations who lifted up their horns against the land of Judah to scatter it.” (Zech 1:18-21)
            The second night vision is short and, to those returned exiles, probably very sweet.  "Horns" in the Bible represent power and especially military strength.  To cut off a nation's horn is to render it powerless against attack.  God here is promising them that the "four horns" which scattered his people will be destroyed.
            Who are the four horns?  That is a source of debate among the scholars, but I would think that Assyria and Babylon are two of them—it only makes sense.  But once again, it's that number "four" that may be the key.  Israel had enemies on every side.  Even during the siege of Jerusalem there were allies who were no help to them (Egypt) and old enemies that actively aided the Babylonians against them (Edom).  Perhaps the meaning is this:  all of their enemies on every side (north, south, east, and west) would be punished for their part in the destruction of Judah, and especially Jerusalem and the Temple.
            And who are the "smiths" in the vision?  Just as a smith is an artisan who creates and mends, these are the people who would carefully and selflessly work to put back together the nation.  I have never seen a list of possible names, but it seems to me that Ezra, Nehemiah, and the three post-exilic prophets—Haggai, Zechariah himself, and Malachi—should be included.
            God is once again telling these people that he knows what they are going through and that he cares.  But added to that, he is promising judgment on the wicked for their part in Judah's suffering.  He is also promising that His people will have what they need to repair themselves and become that promised, glorious, restored kingdom that every one of the prophets spoke of.
            And for us?  Most of us have never felt severe physical persecution.  The worst we have had is a bit of name-calling or being left out of the popular crowd.  But do not think it won't come.  Our country is moving in a direction where we may begin to feel the heat in our own lifetimes and our children and grandchildren may suffer real persecution. 
            God tells us that it is not our place to exact vengeance (Rom 12:19).  However, He has always promised that He will take vengeance for his people (1 Sam 24:12; Psa 58:10,11; Isa 61:2; 2 Thes 1:6-8, etc.).  He will not allow our suffering to go unrequited. 
            And He also gives us the promise that we will have what we need in this glorious restored kingdom of the Messiah, the church--to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, (Eph 4:11-16).  Look around at the "smiths" you have among you, who work for little or no remuneration, who give of themselves for hours upon end to teach the ignorant, to heal the broken, to lead the flock, and you will see the hand of God working among you.  If we don't see it, it is only because, like so many of those people long ago, we aren't looking for the right things.  We can be certain that God will not fail us.
 
When he opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain for the word of God and for the witness they had borne. They cried out with a loud voice, “O Sovereign Lord, holy and true, how long before you will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?” Then they were each given a white robe and told to rest a little longer, until the number of their fellow servants and their brothers should be complete, who were to be killed as they themselves had been. (Rev 6:9-11)
 
Dene Ward

“I saw in the night, and behold, a man riding on a red horse! He was standing among the myrtle trees in the glen, and behind him were red, sorrel, and white horses.  Then I said, ‘What are these, my lord?’ The angel who talked with me said to me, ‘I will show you what they are.’ So the man who was standing among the myrtle trees answered, ‘These are they whom the LORD has sent to patrol the earth.’ And they answered the angel of the LORD who was standing among the myrtle trees, and said, ‘We have patrolled the earth, and behold, all the earth remains at rest.’ Then the angel of the LORD said, ‘O LORD of hosts, how long will you have no mercy on Jerusalem and the cities of Judah, against which you have been angry these seventy years?’ And the LORD answered gracious and comforting words to the angel who talked with me. So the angel who talked with me said to me, ‘Cry out, Thus says the LORD of hosts: I am exceedingly jealous for Jerusalem and for Zion. And I am exceedingly angry with the nations that are at ease; for while I was angry but a little, they furthered the disaster. Therefore, thus says the LORD, I have returned to Jerusalem with mercy; my house shall be built in it, declares the LORD of hosts, and the measuring line shall be stretched out over Jerusalem. Cry out again, Thus says the LORD of hosts: My cities shall again overflow with prosperity, and the LORD will again comfort Zion and again choose Jerusalem.’”  (Zech 1:8-17)
            First of all, don't get hung up on the horse colors.  They are not rainbow colors, but ordinary horse colors.  Just as we might call a dog a "yellow lab" when he really isn't canary yellow, we can call a horse "red" when the actual designation might be roan.  The thing that matters here is the number—four, as in "the four corners of the earth."  And the point is not that God sent actual horses out to patrol the whole earth and report back to him—though that is exactly what the vision pictures—but that God knows what is happening everywhere.
            Do not worry, Zechariah tells the people, God is aware of your problems.  In fact, he knows that your enemies are "at ease" and that their ease has worsened your problems.  He is angry with them, even more than He was before this, and He will take care of His people. 
            Does He tell them when?  No.  Does He tell them how?  No.  At some point, they have to show some faith, some trust, and just keep on serving, allowing God to take care of the things they cannot in His own time.
            That vision is just as applicable to us today as it was 2500 years ago.  God knows what we are going through.  He is constantly "on patrol."  He sees our struggles and our pain, and He will not forget who has caused it all—Satan and his angels.  Sin has polluted our world.  As Christians, we are no longer its captives (Rom 6:18), but we still live in a world that is under its influence.  We must continue to trust God, to believe in His ultimate promises, and prove our faith by our service.
            "The Lord will again comfort Zion and again choose Jerusalem" Zech 1:17.  Maybe it will help to understand that God's people today, the church, the kingdom of his Son, is called Mt Zion and the new Jerusalem in Heb 12:22-29.  God will choose us.  Do we know when?  No.  Do we know how? Yes! 
            For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words. (1Thess 4:16-18)
            Let this night vision encourage you, too.
 
The eyes of the LORD are toward the righteous and his ears toward their cry. ​The face of the LORD is against those who do evil, to cut off the memory of them from the earth. ​When the righteous cry for help, the LORD hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. (Ps 34:15-18)
 
Dene Ward

If you are from north of the Mason-Dixon line, please don’t turn the page!  I have converted not only several children, but several Northerners to this Southern delicacy.  It’s all about taking the problems and turning them to your advantage--and being patient.
            The problem with okra, if you’ll pardon the expression, is the slime.  One reason it was used in gumbos was its thickening power, which is a nicer way of referring to that viscous property.  My family just calls it what it is.  It doesn’t bother them because they know what I can do with that--stuff.
            Follow these directions closely.  Use a colander, not a bowl, when you slice it.  You will still get the goo on your knife and a little on your hands—my method won’t fix that—but it will disappear when you cook it.
            Slice it about a half inch thick, discarding the stem end and the tails.  If it has been in the fridge a few days, it might need a little coaxing to release some of its “juices.”  If so, put that colander in the sink and scatter a few drops of water here and there from a wet hand.  Don’t deluge it.  If it’s already good and gooey, don’t bother.  Sprinkle it with salt, then with flour, not corn meal.  (My mother taught me that and we are both GRITS—Girls Raised in the South.)  Stir it to coat.  Now walk away.  In five minutes come back.  If it’s dry, do the water trick again, just a sprinkle.  Add more salt and more flour and stir it again.  Walk away again.  You may need to do this several times, allowing the excess flour to fall through the holes in the colander into the sink where you can wash it away—loose flour will burn in the bottom of a skillet. 
            After about fifteen minutes and maybe as many as five applications of flour and salt, the flour will have adhered to the “slime” and, magically, the okra will have made its own batter.  It will stick together in clumps like caramel corn, which is exactly what you want.
            Heat a half inch of vegetable oil in a skillet.  Put in one piece of okra and wait till it starts bubbling and sizzling.  Slowly add only as much okra as there is room in the pan.  Since it tends to stick together, you will need to mash it out to spread it around.  Now walk away and leave it again.  No fiddling with it, no turning it, no stirring it. 
            In about ten minutes you will begin to see browning around the edges.  When that happens you can start turning it.  The second side will brown faster, as will the entire second batch.  Watch your oil; you may need to turn it down if the browning begins to happen too quickly.  Drain it on paper towels. 
            You will now have the crunchiest okra you ever ate.  No slime, no weird flavor, nothing but crunch.  You cannot eat this with a fork—it rolls off, or if you try to stab it, it shatters.  This is Southern finger food, a delicacy we eat at least twice every summer before we start pickling it or giving it away.  Too much fried food is not healthy they tell us, but everyone needs a lube job once in awhile.
            The trick to that okra is patiently using the problem itself to overcome it—given enough time, that slime makes a batter that is better than anything you could whip up on your own with half a dozen ingredients.
            Patience is a virtue for Christians too, not just cooks.  How do you make it through suffering?  You patiently endure it (2 Cor 1:6), and you remember its purpose and use it for that purpose.  Patiently enduring suffering will make you a joint-heir with Christ (Rom 8:17,18).  It will make you worthy of the kingdom (2 Thes 1:4,5).  If we suffer with him, we will reign with him (2 Tim 2:12).  Only those who share in his suffering will share in his comfort (2 Cor 1:7). 
            But none if this works if you don’t patiently endure the suffering.  If you give up, you lose.  If you turn against God, he will turn against you.  If you refuse the fellowship of Christ’s suffering, he will refuse you.  We must use that suffering to make ourselves stronger and worthy to be his disciple. Just like I am happy to have a particularly “slimy” bowl of okra to work with, knowing it will produce the crunch I want, the early Christians “rejoiced that they were counted worthy to suffer,” Acts 5:41.  They knew it would make them better disciples of their Lord.  We can understand these things when it comes to something as mundane as fried okra.  Why can’t we recognize it in far more important matters?  We even have a trite axiom about this—when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.  When life gives you trials, make yourself a stronger person.
            After suffering, Peter promises that God will restore, confirm, strengthen and establish us (1 Pet 5:10).  He is talking to those who endure, who use the suffering to their advantage and become better people.  Remind yourself of the promises God gives to those who suffer.  Remind yourself of the rewards.  Remind yourself every day that it’s worth it.  The New Testament writers did, so it is no shame if you do it too.
 
The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs--heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. Rom 8:16-18.
 

I remember thinking once when I stepped into my sons' bedroom and saw toys lying everywhere, "It looks like a whirlwind came through here."  Actually, it didn't look half that bad.
            When daylight dawned after Irma blew through, the mess was astounding.  Trees had fallen across roads—huge water oaks bigger around than your kitchen table's width, pine trees taller than telephone poles, or enormous limbs from the live oaks.  Branches, limbs, moss and other air plants, brushwood and smaller sprigs of leaves, all lay across yards and fields.  For some folks shingles littered their property, for others pieces of eaves and white aluminum roof-overs lay twisted across the grass.  You could tell where the tornadoes had plowed through—trees lay in every direction like a pile of pickup sticks, their branches stripped bare of leaves.
            The clean-up started immediately.  First order of business was to start the generator so we didn't lose the almost thousand dollars' worth of food in the freezer and fridge.  It also gave us a couple of outlets for a lamp and a fan.  Then we set up the camp stove on the porch to avoid heating up an un-coolable house, and started the stovetop coffeepot.  After eating breakfast in a house we had deemed all but lost the night before, it was time to get to work.
            We tried to contact family.  For some reason we had a phone for a few minutes that morning and were able to reach our boys and my mother.  All were well and undamaged.  Then the landline went out and cell service was spotty and downright weird.  My phone kept trying to call out by itself, but of course, it couldn't.  Even on a good day I can only get one bar out here and only next to one window in the house.  Though the generator supplied those few outlets next to the fridge and freezer, my cell would not charge.  We lost it completely the third day. 
            Then it was time to check on neighbors.  We had heard the whine and rev of chainsaws earlier in the day, and because of them we were able to get down the highway, which was covered in sawdust from the tree and limb removal.  Everyone looked all right so we headed back to our own mess.
            And what do you do?  First, you haul in the water.  Heavy five gallon buckets, one next to each toilet for flushes, trying your best not to slosh it on the laminate floors.  They don't much like pools of water.
            Then you unpack.  All those things we had placed in the truck and car were unloaded, unpacked and put back into place.  Then we started on the outside.
            Keith swept off the roof, which was carpeted with twigs and leaves, and the carport which sat covered in an inch of blown-in water, and caked with mud on the edges.  We toweled off the outdoor furniture and unlashed the garbage cans.  We put the bird feeders back on their poles and filled them up.  Then came the hard part.
            Our garden cart holds about 10 cubic feet, Keith thinks, at least 6 five gallon buckets.  We filled it up half again as high as its sides sixteen times as we traversed the yard, back and forth for two days.  Bend over, lift, and drop; bend over, lift and drop.  Over and over and over until our backs ached and our heads swam from the changing height.  The temperature was slightly better than a usual September day in Florida—88 maybe instead of 93, but the humidity was nearly 100% from all the water everywhere.  It has been my experience with people that you really don't understand that until you have lived in it.  We were without an air conditioner for 9 days.  The doors swelled and became difficult to open and close.  The salt became one huge block, even in those "guaranteed" plastic sealed containers.  The dining chair backs were sticky in our hands and the table was covered with condensation every morning.  The bath towels would not dry out between uses unless they were hung out in direct sunlight for several hours with a good stiff breeze blowing.  And that's why 88 felt more like 98 and we wound up soaking wet.
            But remember what I said about the usual September day down here?  Normally the 90s don't leave us before October, and even then we might have a day or two when they return, all the way till November, with a heat index over 100.  Yet I have noticed that after every hurricane we get a little break.  A day in the 80s was a reprieve that we all needed.  And the weather continued that way for 3 or 4 days before the 90s began to show up again.  By then, for us, the brutal outdoor work was done. 
            I thought of the rainbow then, the one after the flood.  God gave them a sign that such a catastrophe would never happen again.  We know we will have more hurricanes, but we also know that God is aware of our needs.  Maybe those more moderate temperatures are His way of showing us that He cares.  We may be hurt by the warnings He has sent to a people who continually reject Him, but He will still show His mercy in ways that only the righteous may be able to understand.  For me, it led to far less griping about the inconveniences—no power, no running water, no means of communication.  It could have been so much worse, and for others it was, especially in the Caribbean, the Keys and South Florida.  But they, too, felt the cooler air for at least awhile, whether they acknowledged who sent it or not.
            God never promised to keep the storms of life away from us, but He has always promised to be with us as we endure them.
 
​For you have been a stronghold to the poor, a stronghold to the needy in his distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat…(Isa 25:4)
 
Dene Ward

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