I am getting tired of this.  Too many times lately I have heard that we should not worry about the examples left to us in God’s word—we can’t do it anyway.  It’s just a bunch of idealism.  We should be content with what we can do so our self-esteem won’t suffer; so we won’t have to deal with guilt; so we won’t push ourselves beyond our limits.  We should stop looking to Biblical role models and just be ourselves.

             Maybe it’s the generation I came from.  Maybe it’s the family work ethic I grew up with.  I can just hear my grandmothers both saying, “If you have time to whine, you have time to do a little more work.” 

              Those women just did what had to be done, when it had to be done, how it had to be done, and never expected praise for it.  They never suffered a lack of self-esteem either.  They were both happy women, content with their lots in life despite the real sweat they sweated and the long hours they kept, both in the home and in the workplace.  One grandmother, widowed from her 40s, was still walking to work in her 70s.  In Florida.  Even in the summer.  If you had told them they were strong women, they would have laughed in your face.

              I am tired of having Biblical examples held up as impossible.  I am tired of hearing how we should just ignore them and not worry about being like them, because we can’t anyway.  God has always given His people examples to follow.  Moses, Aaron, Miriam, Abraham, Samuel, and David were always held up for the Israelites to emulate throughout the chronicles, the psalms and the prophets.  What?  Should He have given them a reprobate to imitate?

              The Hebrew writer gives us a whole list of people to model ourselves after.  And guess what?  Not a one of them was perfect—yet they all did at least one amazing act of faith, something we probably think we “just can’t do.”  Shall we ignore them because, after all, God would not want us to experience a feeling of failure? 

              Paul told the Corinthians in 1 Cor 11:1 to follow his example.  Yes, it was a specific example the context of which begins in chapter 8, but still—can we imitate Paul at all?  Or shall we claim disability and dispense with his advice?  “After all, we’re not Paul…”

              I am tired of having women who began in the depths of sin held up as the example to follow as if they had never changed.  Jesus told the adulterous woman in John 8, “Go thy way and sin no more.”  Wasn’t that an impossible task?  But I bet that forgiven woman tried to accomplish it a whole lot harder than we do and succeeded far better for the trying. 

              If we are asking too much of people to strive for the ideal, then how could Peter have ever written:  For to this you have been called because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example so that you might follow in his steps, 1 Pet 2:21.  How could Paul have said we are to be “conformed to the image of His son,” Rom 8:29; and “walk in love as Christ loved us” Eph 5:2; and “Have this mind in you which was also in Christ” Phil 2:5?  How could John have dared write “If we abide in him we should walk as he walked” 1 John 2:6?

              Certainly following Christ’s example perfectly is a difficult task.  But tell me, how can you ever become better if the goal you have set before yourself is easily attainable?  If I wanted to become a long distance runner, surely my goal should be something more than running down to the mailbox and back—even my mailbox which is nearly half a mile away.  Surely if it is frustrating to model ourselves after a high example, we should avoid using the Lord as one.  That is what follows from the logic I have been hearing lately:  the only thing that will come from me trying to be like my Lord is self-doubt and feelings of unworthiness, so I shouldn’t even try.

              God must think otherwise.  He places high expectations in front of us, and He expects us to use them as goals, not ignore them because they are impossible.  Do you know why?  Because He gives us the tools to reach them.

              1 Pet 4:11—We serve by the “strength which God supplies,” not what we supply.

              Eph 3:20—His power “works in us;” His power, not ours.

              2 Tim 3:17—He equips us “for every good work;” not just the ones we find easy.

              God does expect a lot from us.  Here is the key:  stop picking at it like a sore.  Just do what is set before you every day, that much and no more.  If you have time to sit down and cry about it, you’re wasting one of the few precious commodities you can control, and that for only the moment.  Remember where your power comes from, and do not doubt it for an instant. 

              Will it be easy?  No—maybe that is another one of our problems.  We expect God to make it comfortable.  We expect it to be fun.  We expect it to never hurt.  We think if we have to sweat it isn’t fair.  God never promised any of that.  He did promise all the help we could possibly need.

              Here is where you find your sense of self-worth:  not in what you alone can do, but in recognizing that with a loving Father’s help, you can do more than you ever dreamed possible.
 
 And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work, 2 Corinthians 9:8.
 
Dene Ward

I find Job to be one of the most perplexing books in the Bible.  After trying many years to understand it, I have come up with this:  the book of Job does not answer the question of why bad things happen to good people; it is merely God saying, “You do not need to know why.  You just need to trust me no matter what.”
 
           We all know the story.  In an attempt to make Job renounce God, Satan took away every good thing in his life.  What did he lose?  Seven sons, three daughters, seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, five hundred yoke of oxen, five hundred female donkeys (remember, wealth was measured mainly by livestock in the patriarchal times), many servants, standing in the community, and even his health.  About the only things he didn’t lose were his house (42:11), his wife, and his closest friends--if you can call them that.  In fact, when you think about it, Satan probably knew those people would be a help in his own cause, and that is why he left them.  He certainly would not have left Job with a support system if he could have helped it.

            And that brings us to Mrs. Job.  Now let’s be fair.  When Job lost everything, so did she.  And as I have grown older I have learned to be very careful about judging people who are going through any sort of traumatic experience. 

            Keith and I have been through a lot together.  I have had to take food off my plate and put it on my children’s plates because they were still hungry and there was no more.  We have dug ditches next to each other in a driving rainstorm to keep our house from washing away.  I have held a convulsing child as he drove 90 mph to the emergency room thirty miles away.  We have carried all the water we used in the house back and forth for a month because the well collapsed and we could not afford to repair it.  I have bandaged the bullet wounds he sustained as a law enforcement officer.  We have both endured threats on our lives and scary medical procedures.  But all that happened over a period of forty years, not in one day.  And never have I lost a child, much less all of them.  What I would do if I were Mrs. Job, I do not know.  What I should do is easy to say, but however glibly it rolls off my tongue, that does not mean I would have the strength to do it. 

            She was suffering just as much as her husband.  But somehow, Job hung on, while his wife let her grief consume her.  Job actually lost his wife in an even more painful way than death because she failed the test of faith.

            So what happened to her afterward?  Job did have a wife or he would not have had more children (42:13).  Without further evidence to the contrary, the logical assumption is that it was the same wife.  Since they had a continuing relationship perhaps he is the one who helped her, and she repented both of her failure to be a “helper suitable” and of her faithlessness.

            So what should we learn about sharing grief as a couple?  What I hope we would all do when grief and suffering assail our homes is support one another.  The thing that Job did not have from anyone is the thing that should make all single people desire a good marriage:  support and help.  Troubles should pull us together, not tear us apart.  What I cannot lift by myself, I can with help. Sometimes he is the reason she makes it over a personal hill and other times she is his light to make it through the dark places, and that is how God intended it.

            Now here is the question for each of us.  If Satan were going to test my spouse, would he take me, or leave me?
 
Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their labor.  For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow, but woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up.  Again, if two lie together, then they have warmth, but how can one be warm alone?  Eccl 4:9-11
 
Dene Ward

Speaking the truth in love does not mean speaking it in such a vague way that no one will object to it.  (Robertson Whiteside, Doctrinal Discourses)   

But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable…(Jas 3:17)

We planted them late by Florida standards, so I was just pulling carrots the first week of June.  It wasn’t difficult; I pulled the whole row in about 15 minutes.  Still, it was disappointing—a twenty foot row yielded a two and a half gallon bucket of carrots that turned into a two quart pot full when they were cleaned and sorted, cutting off the tops and tossing those that were pencil thin or bug-eaten.
 
             Then I thought, well, consider the remnant principle in the Bible.  Out of all the people in the world, even granting that the population was much less than it is now, only eight were saved at the Flood.  Out of all the nations in the world, God only chose one as His people.  Out of all those, only one tribe survived the Assyrians, and out of all those, only a few survived the Babylonians and only some of those eventually returned to the land.

              Jesus spoke of the wide gate and the narrow gate.  Surely that tells us that though God wishes all to be saved, only a few will be.  So out of a twenty foot row of carrots, I probably threw out half.  Then we threw out a third of those that were too small to even try to scrub and peel.  Yet, we probably did better with our carrots than the Lord will manage with people!  And I learned other principles too.

              When I pulled those carrots some of them had full beautiful tops, green, thick-stemmed, and smelling of cooked carrots when I lopped them off.  Yet under all that lush greenery several had very little carrot at all.  They were superficial carrots—all show and no substance.  Others were pale and bitter, hardly good for eating without adding a substantial amount of sugar.  Then under some thin, sparse tops, I often found a good-sized root, deep orange and sweet.  Yes, they were all the same variety, but something happened to them in the growth process.

              Some of us are all top and no root.  It always surprises me when a man who is so regular in his attendance has so little depth to his faith.  Surely sitting in a place where the Word is taught on a consistent basis should have given him something, even if just by osmosis.  But no, it takes effort to absorb the Word of God and more effort to put it into practice, delving deeper and deeper into its pages and considering its concepts.  The Pharisees could quote scripture all day, but they lacked the honesty to look at themselves in its reflection.

              And there are some of us who have little to show on the outside, but a depth no one will know until a tragedy strikes, or an attack on the faith arises, or a need presents itself, and suddenly they are there, standing for the truth, showing their faith, answering the call.  I knew one man who surprised us all with his strength in the midst of trial, a quiet man hardly anyone ever noticed.  Yet his steadfastness under pressure was remarkable.  I knew another who had been loud with his faith, nearly boasting in his confidence that he was strong, yet who shocked us all with his inability to accept the will of God, his assertions that he shouldn’t have to bear such a burden when he had been so faithful for so long.  Truly those carrot tops will fool you if you aren’t careful.  “Judge not by appearance,” Jesus said, “but judge righteous judgment.”  Look beneath those leafy greens and see where and how your root lies.

              Evidently the principles stand both for man and carrots.  Don’t count on your outward show, your pedigree in the faith.  Develop a deep root, one that will grow sweeter as time passes and strong enough to stand the heat of trial. 

              And don’t assume you are in the righteous remnant if that righteousness hasn’t been tested lately.  God hates more to throw out people than I hate to throw out carrots, but He will.  Don’t spend so much time preening your tops that your root withers.  And finally, only a few will make it to the table; make sure you are one of them.
 
Behold, I stand at the door and knock: if any man hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me. Revelation 3:20           
 
Dene Ward      

It happened at a small country church nearly forty years ago, but it made enough of an impression that I was asked to talk about it here, and perhaps inspire a few Bible class teachers of this era.

              Acres of farmland surrounded the white concrete block meetinghouse which sat behind the church cemetery.  Woods to the east and a few live oaks dripping Spanish moss around the building were the only trees on this rolling green landscape.  The farmer who owned the surrounding land alternated each year between corn and pasture, so it wasn't uncommon on the alternate years for cows to add their lowing to the congregation's hymns drifting out the windows.

              Although you would think no one lived within twenty miles in the unpopulated countryside, every Sunday 80 or 90 souls swarmed out of the woods and down the dirt lanes between sections.  Yet even with that many, children were scarce.  When we first arrived, there were only two Bible classes—one labeled "children" and the other "teens."  After a few months we had grown to over 120 on Sunday mornings and had added a third Bible class.  We now had "toddlers," "grade school," and "high school," but attendance in each was six or less and the grade school class age span ran from 7 to 13.

              Most of these children were woefully ignorant of even the basics—Adam and Eve, Noah, Daniel, and Jonah.  Together, Keith and I put together a teaching program designed to cover the Old Testament in 6 months before moving on to the New.  As you can imagine, we were whizzing through.  I needed some way to keep these narratives fresh in their minds week after week until they finally became entrenched.  That is how our "Museum of the Old Testament" came about.

              I explained to the children that as we learned about Old Testament events we would be designing and creating exhibits for a museum.  After six months, we would open our museum to the congregation and they would be the tour guides for our visitors.

              With a lack of money and a talent-challenged non-artist for a teacher (me), our exhibits were simple and crude.  What did we have?  I cannot even remember them all, but here are a few:

              A wall map.  Somehow, somewhere, I managed to find a map geared to children—bright primary colors, simple line boundaries, large bold print for places that covered the gamut from the Garden of Eden to Egypt to Canaan to Babylon.  This became our "tour map," giving people a quick overview of where they were going.  We also graced our walls with large arrows to direct traffic around the room in a one-way traffic pattern that made for smooth entry and exit without running into one another. 

              Stone tablets.  I managed to find two appropriately and similarly sized flat chunks of concrete on which we printed the Ten Commandments.  Somehow during the handling, a small corner broke off of one.  We just propped it where it went, but as we ran our tours six months later, I overheard one of our more creative students telling his tour group, "And this is where it broke when Moses got mad about the golden calf and threw them down on the ground."

              An Ark of the Covenant.  A kids' size shoebox with dowels through rings glued on the sides, cardboard "crown molding" and cherubim on the top, all spray-painted gold.  Inside we placed small replicas of the tablets, the pot of manna and Aaron's budding rod.

              A Judges' mobile.  The point in the book of Judges is not really the exciting stories—it's the continuing cycle as the people refused to learn from their history.  Se we created a mobile out of coat hangers, yarn, and construction paper.  Around the top ran the cycle in a circle:  SIN>>OPPRESSION>>REPENTANCE>>PEACE>>, and it hung so it turned constantly at any passage of air through the room.  Hanging from the circle on separate strings were paper man cut-outs with the names of the judges, Othniel through Samuel.

              The handwriting on the wall.  This was the easiest one of the bunch.  Put some art paper on the wall and have one of the students finger-paint MENE MENE TEKEL UPHARSIN on it.  Then draw a large hand with a pointing finger and hang it by a stiff wire from the ceiling so that it touches the wall at one of the words.

              The Minor Prophets sheet game.  This one served as both a lesson activity and an exhibit.  Very few adults really know the Minor Prophets, so this was impressive to the parents.  I cut out about half of a full size sheet.  Then I wrote on it with a permanent marker the names of the Minor Prophets in a column on the left.  Across from that I wrote 18 things I had taught the children about those 12 prophets.  By the names of the prophets I sewed on a length (or 2 in some cases) of yarn.  By the identifying phrases I sewed a button.  The point of the game was to match the prophet to his identifier by wrapping his piece of yarn around the appropriate button.  As the tour group reached our game, the students had learned it so well that they could go through it in just minutes, showing the adults which prophet went with which description or activity.  Then it had to be "undone" before the next group arrived and everyone helped with that.

              I am sure we did more "exhibits" than these, but they have slipped my mind.  The last two classes before our "Grand Opening," the students took turns giving the tour to one another—once again cementing those facts in their minds.

              Finally the day arrived.  With the closing announcements, the congregation was invited to tour the "Museum of the Old Testament."  After the amen, the children rushed to our classroom and stood ready to be matched with a tour group of 3 or 4 adults.  You might think that only parents came, but you would be wrong.  Nearly every adult member showed up that morning.  It took nearly an hour to get everyone through and each child led a tour three or four times, but no one complained.  In fact, several adults thanked me in the next few weeks. 

              These children had never learned so much in such a short time, and not because of me.  These were starving little minds, like baby birds with their mouths open perpetually, waiting for food.  I hope this gives you a few ideas to use in the future.  There are hungry nestlings everywhere.
 
And when your children say to you, ‘What do you mean by this service?’ you shall say… (Exod 12:26-27)

And when in time to come your son asks you, ‘What does this mean?’ you shall say… (Exod 13:14)

“When your son asks you in time to come, ‘What is the meaning of the testimonies and the statutes and the rules that the LORD our God has commanded you?’ then you shall say…(Deut 6:20-21)

And he said to the people of Israel, “When your children ask their fathers in times to come, ‘What do these stones mean?’ then you shall let your children know… (Josh 4:21-22)

Dene Ward

For two or three years now, an elephant ear has grown at the southwest corner of the house.  This year several shoots came up, and all of them bloomed.  I never knew an elephant ear bloomed at all.  Here is the amazing part—I never planted an elephant ear bulb.

              I have had caladiums on the west side for many years now.  They are always the last things up--in May--and the first things to die back—in August.  Occasionally, probably due to the vagaries of a North Florida winter, they simply disappear.  That means I go to the farm store and prowl among the bulb boxes to replace them.  The boxes are clearly labeled, including full color pictures.  That way, if I need to replace a red one, I can find it.  If the pink one has gone the way of all things, I look for the pink picture.  There is absolutely no way to make a mistake unless you are blind or just don't look at the boxes.

              But here is the law of nature:  I simply must have planted an elephant ear bulb.  How did this happen without me knowing it?  Probably a clerk put it in the wrong box.  Those bulbs all look pretty much alike.  If the wrong bulb is in the box and someone picks it up, she would never know until the plant came up in the spring.  So in reality, I did plant an elephant ear, albeit accidentally.

              The same thing happens every day of your life.  You are planting seed and don't even know it.  People watch you, especially people who know you claim to be a believer.  You may accidentally plant an elephant ear instead of a caladium just because you weren't paying attention to the picture on the box.  You didn't think it mattered when you lost your temper.  You didn't think anyone would notice when you exacted a little retribution.  You were blissfully unaware of the audience watching your performance with the waitress or the store clerk or someone else who gave you less than you thought your patronage deserved.

              And worse than that, elephant ears bloom.  They spread, just like mine, proliferating into more people who are also affected by your words and your behavior.  You never know how far your influence will go from simple word of mouth or now, through the internet and the thousands who read one post from a person who had to deal with a Christian choosing to act like something else.

              The good news is you can plant caladiums just as easily, and even accidentally.  People notice good these days and it spreads like wildfire—or a virus, I suppose is the term.  You are always planting something whether you know it or not.  Make sure it's caladiums.
 
The sins of some people are conspicuous, going before them to judgment, but the sins of others appear later.  So also good works are conspicuous, and even those that are not cannot remain hidden. (1Tim 5:24-25)                                             
Dene Ward

We do a lot of grandbaby-sitting, not that I am complaining.  With this set of grandparents, that always includes some Bible study time.

              On one of those occasions, Silas and I sat at the table and made a sheepfold full of sheep with construction paper, cotton balls, markers, and glue.  The lesson, of course, was “Jesus is the Good Shepherd,” so we also included a shepherd-Jesus and a wolf-Satan.  On the tabletop we acted out Jesus protecting the sheep from the wolf.

              Not only was I dealing with a four year old, but a four year old boy.  As soon as we disposed of the Devil, Silas exclaimed, “Raise him from the dead so Jesus can kill him again!”  On that afternoon, the Devil died at least a dozen times. Eventually he stayed dead, but if nothing else, Silas will remember that Jesus can protect us from the Devil.  I just hope he also learns when fighting is appropriate and when it isn’t, and that the war a Christian engages in is spiritual in nature.

              Some of us have as little discretion as a four year old.  God has furnished us with a formidable sword, His Word (Eph 4:17; Heb 4:12).  But like Peter, we often wield the wrong sword.  While we know better than to hack people to pieces with a real weapon, we stab our interested neighbors in the hearts with brutal barbs and verbally assault the newborn Christians who haven’t had the time to learn everything we think they should have in ten seconds flat.  We slash the weak because they are easy prey and instead of sowing the seed among the sinners who need it most, we skewer them with sarcasm and roast them over the coals of a threatened Hell, expecting the Lord to pin a medal of valor on our zealous chests.

              Yes, there is a time to swing the sword of the Spirit, especially when the weak and innocent are threatened or when the Lord Himself is affronted, but when we fight just for the sake of fighting, the Devil is winning instead of losing.  “Put up your sword into its place,” Jesus told Peter, “for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.”

              Be strong and courageous.  Take up the sword and fight.  But don’t wield the wrong sword at the wrong time for the wrong reason.
 
And the Lord's servant must not strive, but be gentle towards all, apt to teach, forbearing, in meekness correcting them that oppose themselves; if peradventure God may give them repentance unto the knowledge of the truth, and they may recover themselves out of the snare of the devil, having been taken captive by him unto his will. 2 Timothy 2:24-26.
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

It’s common knowledge that the Old Testament worship rituals were a figure for our worship to God now. We mine the Passover for more insight into the Lord’s Supper, since Jesus is called our Passover (1 Cor. 5:7), but we also look into the Day of Atonement since we know He died to cleanse us of our sins (e.g. Rom. 5:6). Many of the lesser rituals also teach us a lot about what God expects from us in worship.

When we think of O.T. worship, we normally think of the sacrifice. And we think of it in terms of sacrificing something to God. The shepherd gives up a sheep he otherwise could have harvested wool from year after year and which could have been breeding stock as well. He sacrifices that sheep to God to show his devotion. The other way we think of sacrifices is in terms of something dying in our stead. When people living under the Law of Moses sinned, they had to offer a sin offering for forgiveness. Something had to die for them to be able to stand before God, a sacrifice had to be made.

There is another kind of sacrifice that was made, however. This one was the offering. Some of these offerings were barely different from a sacrifice of devotion, e.g. the burnt offering, but sometimes the concept of offering was very different. Sometimes a worshipper was just very happy because of his blessings and wanted to offer thanks to God. He would offer thanksgiving offerings (Lev. 7:11ff). Free will offerings were similar. One just wanted to worship God at a random time in the year, not part of one of the set feasts, and he brought an offering to God (Lev. 23:21ff). The concept here was less of making a sacrifice for God and more of giving Him a gift. In fact, the free-will offering was very much like a barbeque in which God was the guest of honor.

Even in these free-will offerings and thanksgiving offerings there were rules and procedures which had to be followed. Chief among these was the necessity of the offering being unblemished:

Lev. 22:21-22 “And when anyone offers a sacrifice of peace offerings to the LORD to fulfill a vow or as a freewill offering from the herd or from the flock, to be accepted it must be perfect; there shall be no blemish in it. Animals blind or disabled or mutilated or having a discharge or an itch or scabs you shall not offer to the LORD or give them to the LORD as a food offering on the altar.”

When giving a gift to God, the Israelites were told to give their best. They weren’t to give God second-rate offerings. After all, the purpose was to offer up “a sweet savor to the Lord”. That sweet savor, or pleasing aroma, wouldn’t come from halt, maimed, or scabby sheep. God deserved the best.

We can learn from this as we offer our worship to the Lord. After all, we ourselves are to be a sweet savor to the Lord. 2 Cor. 2:15 “For we are a sweet savor of Christ unto God”. First, and obviously, the offering of our lives to the Lord must be of our own free-will. We must choose to devote our lives to Him. No one else can make this choice for us, nor should anyone be able to stop us from making this commitment.

To the concept that our lives are to bring a pleasing aroma before God add in Rom. 14:8 “For whether we live, we live unto the Lord; or whether we die, we die unto the Lord: whether we live therefore, or die, we are the Lord's.” Also Col. 3:23 “whatsoever ye do, work heartily, as unto the Lord, and not unto men”. Now our lives are offerings to God. Am I living in such a way that God only gets the best? After all, Jesus said that the greatest commandment is “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with ALL thy heart, and with ALL thy soul, and with ALL thy mind.” (Matt. 22:37)

While this concept of offering the best to God should be carried to every aspect of our lives, let’s just look at the worship services we participate in on a weekly basis. When we sing, do we sing to the Lord? 1 Cor. 14:15b “I will sing with the spirit, and I will sing with the understanding also.” So, do I pay attention to the words? Do I think about them, ponder what they mean? Or do I get caught up in the soaring melodies and intricate harmonies? Am I so busy looking for new sounds that I forget to contemplate the old lessons being taught? The Greek word translated “one another” in Eph. 5:19 and Col. 3:16 is most often translated “to ourselves”. While songs are a great way to edify the whole congregation, the first one I can be teaching with these songs is myself, but only if I bother to pay attention and think about them. When I offer God worship in song, am I offering my best?

What about during the prayers? Am I paying attention? Am I considering what is being prayed so I can offer an “Amen” at the end? 1 Cor. 14:6 says that the members of the congregation need to be able to understand the prayers so they can say “Amen”. Doesn’t it also follow that they need to listen with understanding to be able to so join in? When the church offers up a prayer to God as part of our worship, am I participating, or am I thinking about what I’m going to have for lunch and whether or not the Steelers will cover the spread? Am I offering my best?

The sermon cuts both ways, as does the Bible class. In the audience, am I listening and considering what is being taught? Am I being noble, searching the scriptures like the Bereans? (Acts 17). Am I using the opportunity to hear God’s word as a chance to offer up worship to Him? Or am I dozing off?

But as the preacher or teacher, am I using the opportunity to present a lesson on His word as a chance to offer up a gift to Him? Am I prepared, organized, researched and ready? Or am I winging it because I couldn’t be bothered to take the time to prepare properly? I know that personally there have been too many times when I wasn’t as prepared to teach as I should have been. Those lessons often went very well, but I know that I wasn’t offering an unblemished gift to God those nights.

When we come together to offer up our worship to God, we need to give our best. And it doesn’t matter how old or young we are. If someone is old enough to count the cost (Luke 14) and make a commitment to God, then s/he is old enough to sing along with understanding, pay attention during prayers and sermons, and offer true worship to God during our services. If they aren’t old enough to pay attention, how could they have truly counted the cost?

Lev. 22:29 “And when you sacrifice a sacrifice of thanksgiving to the LORD, you shall sacrifice it so that you may be accepted.”

Lucas Ward

Due to my congenital eye problems, I grew up reading in my room instead of playing outside with the other kids.  That may sound odd—reading when one has an eye problem—but, you see, reading was safe.  As long as I had my coke bottle glasses I could sink back into my imagination and see the world.  Whenever I tried to play with the other children, I always tripped over something I did not see, fell and skinned my knees, or got hit in the face with whatever ball we were playing with at the time because I could not see it coming, sometimes breaking those expensive glasses. 

            Then I married a man, and had two boys.  Here I was with a house full of men and had absolutely no experience either playing sports or watching them.  Well—I tried to watch football once when I was about 10.  It looked to me like two bunches of men who every minute or so ran into each other and fell down.  I did enough of that myself, and could not see the attraction at all.

            But I wanted a close relationship with my family, so I started sitting with them on Saturday afternoons, watching what they watched—football and basketball.  Although I still do not have any idea what a “pick and roll” is, or why in the world they call a guy a tackle and then forbid him to do exactly that, I can now identify a naked bootleg and tell when a charge is not a charge, but a blocking foul.  The boys got a big kick out of teaching these things to Mom.

            I went to that trouble because I cared about my family relationships.  Do I care for my neighbors as well? Or have I bought into the egocentric American notion that the world should operate on my schedule and according to my desires, and no one else has any legitimate problems, or any other rationale for what they do other than to aggravate me and get in my way? 

         Will I ask the man next door about his golf game, while studiously avoiding the old joke about golf being “a good walk ruined?”  When I meet the lady across the street at the mailbox, will I ask to see her latest crocheted creation, even though I don’t know the name of a single stitch, and can barely sew a straight line on a machine?  If I want to develop the kind of relationships that will become closer and deeper, and perhaps eventually lead them to the Lord, I hope I will.  These things may seem insignificant, but they pave the way for things that are anything but.

            What lives will you and I try to touch today?
 
For though I was free from all men, I brought myself under bondage to all, that I might gain the more.  And to the Jews I became as a Jew that I might gain Jews; to them that were under the law, as under the law, not being myself under the law, that I might gain them that are under the law; to them that are without law as without law, not being without law to God but under law to Christ. To the weak I became weak, that I might gain the weak.  I have become all things to all men that I may by all means save some.  And I do all things for the gospel’s sake, that I might be a joint partaker thereof.  1 Cor 9:19-23
 
Dene Ward

The 1930s were famous for more than one disaster.  Besides the Great Depression they were also known as the Dirty Thirties.  Drought, over-farming, and over-grazing turned the once fertile land of the Great Plains into the Dust Bowl.  100 million acres of farmland were affected.  Dozens of massive dust storms blew through every year of that decade.  The worst day by far was April 14, 1935 when 20 storms blew through in one day, turning the skies black and leading to the name "Black Sunday." 

              Those storms were far more dangerous than we realize.  All during that decade, schools were often closed to prevent "dust pneumonia" in those traveling back and forth.  If the children were already at school when a storm began, they were often kept overnight to keep them out of the filthy air. Cars drug chains behind them to ground them due to the high voltage static electricity that the dust caused and which led to several electrocutions.  People knew to sweep the dust off their roofs, but they forgot that dust seeps into cracks and many attics collapsed on the families beneath.

               After reading all that I knew that my incredibly dust-producing house was not as bad as I always thought.  Still, though, it is the dustiest place we have ever lived. A few weeks ago I got out the dust rags and the polish and went to work.  It had been over two months since I had dusted anything at all and it was showing, not just on the furniture, but in my nose and lungs—I have a dust mite allergy. 
 
             I knew it would take awhile and it did, dusting every flat surface and every item on them, including a large dinner bell collection, vases from Bethlehem and Nicaragua, and those porcelain bootee-shaped vases that flowers had come in when the boys were born, figurines inherited from grandmothers and great-aunts, a wooden airplane Keith’s grandfather whittled inside an empty whiskey bottle, candles, telephones, a small piano collection, a metronome, fan blades, jewelry boxes, and beaucoup picture frames.  I dirtied up four rags in an hour and a half, sneezed a couple dozen times, and required a decongestant in order to breathe the rest of the day.

              When I finished I looked around.  The pictures all reflected brightly in the wood they sat on, the porcelain shone, the candles looked a shade brighter, and the brass gleamed.  What a difference it made to dust things off.

              So what do you need to dust off in your life?   Sometimes we become satisfied with our place in the kingdom, happy with where we are in our spiritual growth, comfortable in our relationships with others and our ability to overcome.  Sometimes we sit so long in our comfortable spot, be it a literal pew or a figurative one, that we soon sport our own layer of dust.  Maybe we aren’t doing anything wrong exactly, we have just stopped stretching ourselves to be better and do more. 

              “Dusting off” seems a good metaphor for “renewal.”  Paul tells the Colossians we have “put off our old selves” (past tense) but that the new self is “being renewed” (present tense), Col 3:9,10.  Being renewed has not stopped and never should.  Every day is a new beginning for the child of God.  When we forget that, the dust starts to settle, and our light is dimmed with a layer of uselessness that builds every minute.  Soon, as the light weakens, no one will notice us, or is that the point?

              When did you last dust yourself off and get to work, “transforming yourself by the renewing of your mind?” Rom 12:2.  That layer of dust will build and build until it collapses on your unsuspecting spirit, giving you a case of dust pneumonia from which you may never recover.
 
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me, Psalms 51:10.
 
Dene Ward