Most families have just returned from a road trip of some variety this past summer.  You may not realize it, but this is a fairly recent development.  We seem to think that the Declaration of Independence lists our inalienable rights as “life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and a thousand dollar (or more) family vacation every year.”  When I was growing up we might have gone on two or three “vacations.”  The rest of the time we visited family, and that involved nothing but visiting—the adults talking and the children playing together.  Anywhere we might have gone while there was a free day trip—no admission fees—and lunch was usually a picnic we packed ourselves. 

              If it hadn’t been for discovering tent camping, my boys would not have had vacations either.  In those days you could pitch a tent in a state park for $7.00 a night, and cook your own meals over the campfire instead of eating out.  We also did our share of family visiting.  Although you hate to view your family as a “free motel,” it was the only way we could see them at least once a year.

              I like to think of this life as a road trip.  Too many people consider it the destination and that will skew your perspective in a bad way.  If you think this life is supposed to be the good part, you will sooner or later be severely disappointed.

              As we go along the road a lot of things happen.  We will be faced with decisions that are not easy to make, and which may turn out badly.  Sometimes we are too easy on ourselves, making excuses and rationalizing.  But other times we are entirely too hard on ourselves.  If you look back on a decision you made years ago, and find yourself wishing you had done things differently, that doesn’t necessarily mean you were wrong then.  Sometimes it simply means you were without experience, a little naïve, a lot ignorant.

              Let’s put it this way.  I live almost an hour north of Gainesville, Florida.  If I leave for Atlanta at 8 AM, it’s no shame if I am not even to Macon by 10 AM.  On the other hand, if I leave at 5 AM and haven’t even made Macon yet, something is wrong.  I’ve been dawdling over gas pumps, stopping for snacks too many times, or wandering through tourist traps that have nothing to do with the trip itself.  The question, then, is not where you are on the road, but when you left in the first place.  You can’t expect yourself to know what to do in every situation of life when you haven’t even experienced much life.  The decision you make today may be completely different than the one you made in the same situation twenty years ago, but twenty years ago if you did the best you could do with what you knew, you did well.

              And what are we doing on our road trip?  Are we wasting too much time at tourist traps?  Life is full of distractions, things not necessarily wrong, but which may not help us on the trip at all, or may even do harm by skewing our perspective.  It really isn’t important where you live and what kind of car you drive in this life.  If you think it is, you’ve forgotten where you’re headed—the here and now has become your goal instead. 

              If you want to keep your mind on the goal, ignore the billboards life puts out for you and spend time with your atlas.  Nothing helps me get through a long trip more than watching the towns go by and following them with my finger on the map.  Every time I check the mileage we are a little further on, and soon, sooner than you might think, the destination is in sight.  That’s why you started this trip in the first place—not for the World’s Largest Flea Market, or the Gigantic Book Sale, or even the Only Locally Owned Canning Facility and Orchard (with free samples). 

              Watch the road, use the map, avoid the tourist traps.  Make the best decisions you can at every intersection.  This is the only road trip you get.  Don’t mess it up.
 
Let your eyes look directly forward, and your gaze be straight before you. Ponder the path of your feet; then all your ways will be sure. Do not swerve to the right or to the left; turn your foot away from evil. Proverbs 4:25-27
 
Dene Ward
 

Self-control—a virtue our society no longer practices or teaches.  Instead, we reward jerks and boors, and idolize intemperance.  Prodigality and lavish lifestyles are our measure of success; striking back is our measure of character; throwing tantrums is our measure of strength.  Mature behavior is seldom praised and never popular.  (from Growing Toward Spiritual Maturity by Dene Ward) 

God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control. (2Tim 1:7

I saw him first in the early spring, the days still cool and breezy, the sun only barely warming the greening grass.  I am not sure exactly how he reached the feeder next to my window, but later I saw him hopping down one limb at a time to the ground.  His right wing was broken, dragging on whatever surface he stood; he was unable to lift it at all.  Yet by hopping upward one limb at a time, I surmised, he had managed to get to a plentiful food supply and ate as much as he needed.

              All spring he came, usually after the other birds had eaten their fill and left.  I made sure he had plenty and he seemed to appreciate it, eying me from the safety beyond the window where I sat as he pecked the seed.  Finally his wing began to mend.  After a couple of weeks he was able to pull it up a bit.  Gradually he pulled it closer and closer to his body, and suddenly one afternoon he gave it a try and flew to the feeders out in the yard, the ones on straight poles that he couldn’t reach before.  His flight was wobbly, swooping down toward the grass in a dive I thought would crash-land, but then he managed to flap a bit and rise to land on the red plastic perch.

              His wing and his maneuvers have both improved.  I can still tell which one he is, though, because that wing healed crookedly and still bows out from his body as if he has his hand in his pocket, elbow stuck out, but his flying is straight and sure now.  He survived what might have brought death to any other bird probably because of the free and easy meal he could still manage to reach while he healed.

              Isn’t that why God put us here together?  When one of us has a broken wing, the rest of us do what we can to help.  It may be physical—taking meals to the ill or injured or those recovering from surgeries.  But far more often it is a spiritual break, a soul in jeopardy from the pitfalls of life that have left him maimed and unable to care for himself.

              And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all. 1 Thessalonians 5:14

              We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Romans 15:1

              Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. Galatians 6:2.

              In this way we follow the example of our Lord:  a bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not quench…Matt 12:20.  Just as he healed so many broken souls, he expects us to do the same.

              Sometimes it is difficult to deal with these broken souls.  It takes time, it takes effort, sometimes it even takes heartache and tears. It means we might miss a planned outing, a meal, or maybe some sleep.  Taking care of those in pain can take up your life—but then, isn’t service supposed to be our life when we give it all to the Suffering Servant?  Service by definition is never convenient. 

              Look around for those broken wings.  God expects you to be His agent in taking care of His ailing children.  Feed them, care for them, listen, advise, and if necessary, correct.  Above all, be patient—healing takes time.  If you aren’t willing to do that, then maybe the broken wing is yours.
 
Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who have an anxious heart, "Be strong; fear not! Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God. He will come and save you." Isaiah 35:3-4
 
Dene Ward

I looked in the pantry the other day for a box of pasta.  Know what I found?  Spaghetti, penne rigate, orzo, linguini, lasagna, shells, and elbow macaroni.  I stood there at least five minutes trying to figure out which one I wanted to use.  Then I needed vinegar.  There was apple cider vinegar, white vinegar, balsamic vinegar, rice vinegar, white wine vinegar, red wine vinegar, and homemade rosemary vinegar.  That took even longer. 

             I remember the old days when I had spaghetti and macaroni, apple cider vinegar and all purpose white.  I didn’t have enough money in the grocery budget to play around with anything else.  We still aren’t rich, but we are certainly better off than thirty years ago, and being better off has cost me a lot of time lately, trying to figure out what I want to use instead of just grabbing the only thing available and throwing it in the pot.

              That made me wonder what this economy and this culture is costing the Lord’s body.  Things may be changing, but we can still worship without fear.  So what do we do?  Since we don’t face actual physical persecution, we find silly things to fight about among ourselves.  Since we have plenty in the coffers due to our more affluent membership, we argue about what to do with it, and often wind up “burying our money” in bank accounts. 

              In the very old days, the brethren were too busy fighting pagan culture and hostile government to fight among themselves.  In the more recent old days, money was hard to come by for everyone so when they got a little they were quick to share it.  I’ve seen that in secular organizations.  I was involved with a local music teacher’s group that regularly emptied its bank account giving to needy students for lessons and school music programs for supplies.  Then we put together a community cookbook, made $1000 in one month and had to practically pry anything past several members who, once they had gotten a taste of financial security, didn’t want to give it up.

              We often say, “Be careful what you wish for.”  When we can read in the scriptures of churches so poor they didn’t have enough themselves but still begged to be a part of the giving, I think I understand why wealth is such a dangerous thing.  When things are so easy for us that we look for petty things to fight about, Satan is using that wealth, that security, that life of ease to tear us apart and make us ineffective at the mission God has set before us. 

              Maybe that’s why persecution is looked at favorably in so many passages.  Maybe that’s why wealth in the New Testament is never pictured as anything but dangerous. 

              I just looked in my pantry again.  I have all-purpose flour, cake flour, bread flour, and whole wheat flour.  Despite my protestations, I am too wealthy. 

              It’s time to go fix dinner.  I don’t know whether to use the basmati rice, the brown rice, or the Arborio rice.  Do you know what to do with the blessings you have?
 
We want you to know, brothers, about the grace of God that has been given among the churches of Macedonia, for in a severe test of affliction, their abundance of joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part. For they gave according to their means, as I can testify, and beyond their means, of their own accord, begging us earnestly for the favor of taking part in the relief of the saints-- and this, not as we expected, but they gave themselves first to the Lord and then by the will of God to us. 2 Corinthians 8:1-5
 
Dene Ward

The past few years big black gnats have reached almost plague proportions.  Generally they begin about May and before we know it we are swatting in the kitchen, under the lamps, and especially at the table.  You look down and if you aren't quick enough, the one that lands in your soup drowns in it.  If you talk too much, you swallow one, and you never, ever leave a piece of pie sitting out for longer than five seconds without covering it up.  They breed in the garbage can, in the bathroom drains, and in the burn box.  Every fruit fly trap holds forty bodies in one day's time, and still you swat.

              So we replaced our defunct atomizer, the one that puffs out a spray of insecticide every 15 minutes from its place high on the book case—and noticed no difference whatsoever.  Until we went south to babysit for three days.  When we arrived back home, we trudged in, bodies weary from child love and heavy traffic, and came to a complete halt.  The floor was covered in dead gnats.  You couldn't walk through them without smashing them and tracking them everywhere.  A broom and a dustpan garnered us a half cup of dead gnats.  Now that is a load of bugs!

              You can think you don't make a difference in this world.  Your kind deeds to your neighbors, your level of patience in restaurants and doctors' offices and on the road, your invitations to worship or Bible study, your words of encouragement to a brother or sister in distress seem small and insignificant.  But they are not.  They add up and they will have an effect. 

              You may never know about it.  I meet people all the time who, when discovering who my parents are, suddenly pour out their appreciation for things that I never knew about.  I hear about their love, their generosity, their encouragement, their examples.  I hear praise and gratitude for people I never really thought of as great heroes of faith, and why?  Because I was watching them one puff at a time.  I never saw the floor full of gnats that accrued after a lifetime of righteousness.

              The same thing can be true of you.  You may not be able to teach a Bible class that converts a dozen sinners in a month, much less a day.  You may not have the time and money to give much more than a couple hours a week to serving, and that scattered about among a large bunch of needy folks.  But you can puff out a kind word here and there, a card of encouragement every week or so, a visit or two every week, a meal for a sick family when needed, and a consistent example of faithfulness in your meetings with the assembly and your daily example of life. 

              So a half a cup of dead gnats is not exactly the metaphor you want to be remembered by, but consider this.  Every dead gnat is a defeat for Satan; a bout with selfishness or an impatient lack of consideration or the distraction with the world that you have overcome by your faithfully pursuing righteousness in your life, one word or deed at a time, again and again and again.  Satan tries to tell you that it won't matter, it's all too small to make a difference.  Show him your dustpan and gloat in his face.

              One puff at a time will get you, and maybe a few others with you, to Heaven.
 
The saying is trustworthy, and I want you to insist on these things, so that those who have believed in God may be careful to devote themselves to good works. These things are excellent and profitable for people. Titus 3:8
 
Dene Ward
 

“Lose up to ten pounds the first week!  No dieting!  No exercise!  Eat what you like.  One pill a day will give you the body you have always dreamed of!”

              It’s sad how many people believe those ads.  But it is understandable too.  No one wants to change his lifestyle.  No one wants to go hungry and sweat.  Everyone wants to eat the good stuff and take a magic pill to cure their obesity.

              I know a few people who have that problem with sin too.  They don’t want to change their lives.  They don’t want to admit they even need to change.  They certainly don’t want to make the effort in study, prayer, self-examination, and true repentance.  They think they have the “magic pill,” and here is what it is.

              I can go merrily along if I remember to pray for forgiveness every night, especially for my “secret sins.” 

              I can live my life as I wish as long as I show up Sunday morning and take the Lord’s Supper.

              I can even play at repentance by talking about my imperfections and making statements like, “I know I am a sinner,” so no one can quote 1 John 1:8 at me.

              I have seen it too many times over the years.  I have even done it myself.  I know I am not perfect so a quick prayer for forgiveness every day should take care of the problem.  Far be it from me to actually admit anything specific and work on it.  Have you noticed this about people like that?  Sooner or later they make a statement like this, “If I’ve sinned, I’m sorry.”  They’ve taken yet another diet pill and expect a 15 pound loss of sin in one short minute.

              The real weight loss programs out there are all about accountability.  You show up, you weigh in, you talk about exactly what you have eaten and not eaten, and how much exercise you have or have not had.  Those people tend to lose the weight and keep it off longer.  They understand that this is a lifestyle change, not a magic pill.  And they take responsibility for their actions, both good and bad.

              That’s exactly the way overcoming sin works.  “Confess your faults one to another,” James tells us, “and pray for one another” (5:16)   Everyone participates and everyone helps.

               “Bring forth fruit worthy of repentance,” John told the masses (Matt 3:8).  A quick little prayer or a ritual offering was only the beginning of a lifestyle change that was supposed to be obvious to everyone from then on.

              I’ve heard brethren criticize the Catholic religion as one of convenience.  “You can live as you like as long as you confess every week and do penance.”  Some of us don’t even want to do that much.  Confession is humiliating.  Doing penance is hard work.  It’s far easier to pray for forgiveness every night and show up every Sunday for those few magic bites.  Don’t tell me we aren’t as bad they are—we’re worse!

              Satan is the one who puts out those ads for sin’s magic pills.  Don’t be a “patsy.”  No one is sure where the term came from.  Some suggest it is from the Italian word pazzo.  Do you know what that word means?  “Fool.”  Sounds to me like the perfect word. 
 
For godly sorrow works repentance unto salvation, a repentance which brings no regret: but the sorrow of the world works death. For behold, this selfsame thing, that you were made sorry after a godly sort, what earnest care it wrought in you, yea what clearing of yourselves, yea what indignation, yea what fear, yea what longing, yea what zeal, yea what avenging! In everything you approved yourselves to be pure in the matter. 2 Corinthians 7:10-11.
 
Dene Ward      

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

One of my favorite stories in Genesis is one of the least well known.  I learned the extent of this story from reading my brother’s book The Growth of the Seed: Notes on the Book of Genesis.  When most people turn to the end of Genesis, they think of the story of Joseph, but I think of the story of Judah.

When we first meet Judah, he isn’t exactly a nice man.  We all know that the 10 older sons of Jacob hated Joseph.  He was clearly their dad’s favorite and he didn’t shy away from telling the dreams which seemed to predict his preeminence over the family.  One day the older brothers caught Joseph alone and planned to kill him.  In Gen. 37:26-27 Judah offers another idea: sell Joseph into slavery.  His motive wasn’t saving the life of his younger brother; it was greed.  Some have tried to justify Judah in this, but think of all the news stories recently about human trafficking.  There was nothing merciful in Judah here.  He might well have been sending Joseph to an early grave as a slave, but at least it lined his pocket!  And so Joseph is sold.

In Genesis 38 Judah has left the family of God.  Surely Judah knew of the promises God had made to his great-grandfather.  He knew his family was the family of promise and that the blessing of God was passed down through his family, yet he chose to leave and go his own way.  His absence wasn’t short either.  He married, had three sons, raised them, and arranged a marriage for his oldest.  So, he was gone for nearly 20 years at that point.  Judah’s character shows again when we see how wicked his sons were.  His oldest was so wicked God struck him dead.  The next son, who took the widow of his brother to raise up an heir in the dead brother’s name, enjoyed the benefits of that arrangement without accepting any of the responsibility so God struck him dead too.  One might strongly question the idea of Judah as a righteous father.  Judah held back his youngest son from his daughter-in-law (Tamar) on the pretext that he was too young and Tamar went to live with her parents.  Time went by, however, and the youngest son grew to an age to handle the responsibility but still Tamar was left alone.  She began plotting to get what was truly hers by the laws of that time and place.

Meanwhile, Judah’s wife dies.  After he finishes his period of mourning, he goes to the sheep shearing, an event with a festival atmosphere.  On the way, Judah saw what he thought was a temple prostitute and decided to engage her services.  So he is not only committing fornication, but is also participating in the worship of an idol. He leaves his signet ring, staff and the cord worn on his neck with the prostitute as a guarantee that he’d send payment back to her.  Turns out the prostitute was actually his daughter-in-law Tamar who was just taking from him what he should have given to her.  [A quick aside: whatever we think of Tamar’s tactics, God seems to have been ok with it. Not only is she not condemned anywhere in this story – and in fact, Judah will later say she was more righteous than he – but Tamar is one of only three women listed among Jesus’ ancestors in Matthew 1. That seems to be a pretty ringing endorsement.]  When it is discovered that Tamar is pregnant, Judah plans to execute her for her loose ways until she shows the ring, cord, and staff and lets it be known that Judah is the father.  His reaction -- “And Judah acknowledged them, and said, She is more righteous than I; forasmuch as I gave her not to Shelah my son.  And he knew her again no more” Gen. 38:26 -- seems to be one of true remorse and repentance because the next time we meet Judah he is back with the family of God.

Not only is Judah back with his family, he has gained status as the family's spokesperson.  When the seven years of famine came and the ten sons of Jacob went to Egypt to buy grain (because God had raised Joseph to second in the land after he interpreted Pharaoh’s dream and Joseph planned appropriately for the famine), they didn’t recognize Joseph and he treated them rather roughly.  He insisted that the next time they come they bring their youngest brother to “prove” that they aren’t spies. When they get home and tell Jacob of the demands of the Egyptian lord, he refuses to consider it. In 42:37-38 Reuben tries to convince Jacob saying that he will be responsible for Benjamin.   Jacob ignores Reuben.  Finally, when things get really bad, Judah offers to be responsible for Benjamin and Jacob relents (43:8-13).  Judah had obtained a respectability higher than his oldest brother.  When they get to Egypt, Joseph arranges things so he can accuse Benjamin of being a thief and keep his younger brother with him.  The other brothers, still not recognizing Joseph, believe a calamity has occurred. Judah gives a speech, part of which follows:

Gen 44:30-34 “Now therefore when I come to thy servant my father, and the lad is not with us; seeing that his life is bound up in the lad's life; it will come to pass, when he seeth that the lad is not with us, that he will die: and thy servants will bring down the gray hairs of thy servant our father with sorrow to Sheol. For thy servant became surety for the lad unto my father, saying, If I bring him not unto thee, then shall I bear the blame to my father forever. Now therefore, let thy servant, I pray thee, abide instead of the lad a bondman to my lord; and let the lad go up with his brethren. For how shall I go up to my father, if the lad be not with me? lest I see the evil that shall come on my father.”

When Judah sold Joseph into slavery he had no concern for the feelings of his father and stood by callously as Jacob wept over Joseph.  Now, he is so concerned for his father – and his brother – that he is willing to take the place of Benjamin.  He begs for the right to live as a slave so that his brother may go free. It is reminiscent of John 15:13.  While he wasn’t dying for Benjamin, he was giving up his life for him. This is a complete transformation from being a totally selfish man to being a man of love.  We see this complete transformation acknowledged by God when Jacob prophesies that the scepter will not depart from the house of Judah until Shiloh come (49:8-12).  The blessing that had passed from Abraham to Isaac to Jacob was now being passed to Judah.

That almost seems strange, doesn’t it?  Think of how wicked Judah had been in his early life.  He sold his brother to human traffickers and then lied to his dad saying Joseph was dead.  He left the family of God.  He raised two extraordinarily wicked sons.  He slept with a prostitute and likely worshiped an idol while he did so.  BUT he came back to the family of God.  He learned to love others and put them before himself.  He learned to be self-sacrificing.  It was for this repentance and faithful working in the family of God that he was blessed. Judah changed and God forgave.

It’s amazing how many of the great men of the Bible had huge failures.  Think about it: Abraham repeatedly lied (Gen. 12, 20).  Moses disobeyed and took the credit for a miracle (Num. 20:10-11).  David murdered and committed adultery (2 Sam. 11).  Peter denied the Lord (Matt. 26:69-75).  Paul persecuted the church (Acts 8:3, 22:4).  What all this means, what the story of Judah teaches, is that no matter how far you've fallen, you can still come back to the Lord.  No matter what you’ve done, God will forgive you and give you a place in His family.  If God will forgive Judah and allow the blessing of the coming Messiah to fall on him, then he will forgive us as well.  We can enjoy the blessings of the glorified Messiah.  All we have to do is repent and return to the family of God.

“The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some count slackness; but is longsuffering toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.” 2 Pet. 3:9.

Lucas Ward

Pearl Reid Skirvin was born on October 12, 1889.  The daughter of an Oklahoma City real estate tycoon, she never knew anything but high society.  She married George Mesta, a Pittsburgh machine tool magnate, and was widowed after only 8 years.  She never remarried, never had children, and became heir to both her father’s and husband’s fortunes.  Somewhere along the way she changed the spelling of her first name and became Perle Mesta, an influential hostess and political fundraiser in Washington DC.  And somewhere else along the way, she was labeled “the hostess with the mostes’.”  As a young child I had heard of her myself, but her glamorous parties were things far beyond my family’s imagination, much less actual attendance.

              I remember my first attempts to be a hostess.  I had watched my mother feed guests for 20 years.  She seemed to do it effortlessly, not that she didn’t work at it, but it never seemed to stress her out.  Me?  I was always worried that my recipes wouldn’t turn out, that I had chosen something no one liked, and that the house wasn’t clean enough. 

              For several years I kept a file with an index card for each family we had invited for a meal.  I listed the dates they came, what I had served, and at the top a list of things I knew were disliked.  Roger Pink hated liver, I remember—not that I would ever serve specially invited guests liver, but you can see how concerned I was with being a good hostess.  These days you get pot luck, and I don’t worry so much any more.

              Being a good host or hostess had almost sacred connotations in the scriptures.  Inns were few and far between.  Everyone depended upon the people they encountered in their travels to put them up, and those people knew they would someday have similar need, so they readily offered the hospitality.  You cannot read Genesis without seeing the importance of hospitality—a host laid down his life for his guests.

              So the metaphor in Proverbs 9 was an apt one for the times.  Two hostesses seeking guests, one named Wisdom and the other Folly.  A quick reading will only obscure some of the finer points.  This is too short a venue to touch them all, so sit down some time with a pen and paper and make two columns.  Go through the verses yourself and find the contrasts between the hostesses, their offers, and the guests who take advantage of the proffered hospitality.  Then figure out which side you are on. 

              But three quick points: Wisdom offers a great feast—“she has slaughtered her beasts; she has mixed her wine,” v 2.  Folly offers only bread and water, v 17, but notice how enticing she makes it sound:  Stolen water is sweet and bread eaten in secret is pleasant.  Not only is her meal scanty, it’s forbidden.  If the only reason I want to do something is because someone else told me not to, the proverb writer says I “lack sense,” v16, as do all of Folly’s guests.

              Wisdom offers her feast to all, but specifically to “those who lack understanding” and are wise enough to realize their need.  Folly offers hers to those who are “going straight on their way,” v 15.  They already think they know what they need to know.  They may indeed be simpleminded, v 16, but they don’t realize it.  Going to someone to ask for advice is beneath them, unless of course it’s someone who will tell them what they want to hear. 

              Wisdom tells her guests that they must break off from bad company, v 7-8.  Folly, on the other hand, loads her guest list with the worst company of all, and bids the fool to come join them, but he does not know that the dead are there, that her guests are in the depths of Sheol, v 18.

              You won’t find a more chilling metaphor, but if you insist on ignoring good advice, trusting in those who scorn the word of God, and whooping it up with the Devil, you will find yourself exactly where Folly holds her parties, consorting with the spiritually dead, and killing your own soul in the process.
 
Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted, while evil people and impostors will go on from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived, 2 Timothy 3:12-13.
 
Dene Ward

Henry J Heinz was born on October 11, 1844 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.  In 1850 the family moved to Sharpsburg, and before long, little Henry was showing his business acumen by selling vegetables from the family garden.  His customers included area grocers.
 
             As a teenager he began preparing and bottling horseradish.  But here again, his business sense helped him out.  He put his horseradish in clear bottles while every other producer used dark brown.  He wanted customers to see the quality of his product.  Before long he had branched out into pickles, vinegars and the like.

              In 1875, a national financial panic pushed him into bankruptcy.  But he was not about to give up.  Two of his cousins formed a new company, F and J Heinz, and they introduced ketchup to the product line in 1876.  By 1888, Henry had discharged his bankruptcy obligations and took charge of the company.  It was his again, and so was that famous ketchup.  It's the brand we use exclusively.

            At the end of every gardening year I always end up with extra plum tomatoes and nothing to do with them.  My pantry is full of canned tomatoes, tomato sauce, and even tomato jam.  So what else is there?  Now that I have a grandson who is a manic dipper of anything he can pick up in his chubby little fingers, I had a sudden epiphany.  “Ketchup!” I said to myself.  “Make the boy some ketchup.”
 
             So I found an easy recipe—not a quick one by any means, but once you get past the initial chopping and measuring stage, all you do is stir once in awhile for a couple of hours. 

              I did not want to put a lot of energy into something I had never tried, so I made a small batch.  I filled a five quart Dutch oven halfway with chopped plum tomatoes, onions and peppers, sugar, vinegar, and spices, and put them on to cook.  About two and a half hours later I poured up one generous cup of ketchup.  It was definitely the best ketchup I had ever tasted, and plenty for Keith and I who take a year to go through a 32 oz bottle, but it was not going to do for a ketchup fanatic, and it certainly wasn’t worth the work.  Now that I know the recipe is good, though, I will fill two of those pots to the brim and in about the same amount of time have something a little more worthwhile.

              And that is our problem when it comes to converting the world.  We only fill one pot half full and then wonder why we got such a small return.  Then we become discouraged, or worse, decide that God’s way doesn’t work any more and then we really get into trouble, going places and doing things we have no authority for, denigrating God in the process.

              We see the 3000 baptized on Pentecost and say, what’s wrong?  Why can’t we do that?  Let’s do a little math.  Most scholars estimate the population of Jerusalem during a feast day at 1 million or more.  Three thousand out of one million is not that much.  In fact, it’s the same as 300 out of 100,000, or 30 out of 10,000 or 3 out of 1000.  That’s less than one third of one percent, or, to be silly about it, it’s a short one-third of a person for every hundred. 

              Stop being so negative.  Stop allowing sheer numbers without perspective to discourage you.  This is a Biblical principle.  The road is narrow.  Only a few will find it.  We just have to make sure that their inability to find it wasn’t our fault.  And we have to remember above all, that it isn’t God’s fault either.  It is not the fault of His methods.  It is not the fault of His plan.   We certainly cannot improve on the ways of the Almighty.  What we can do is implement them.        

                Fill as many pots as you have with tomatoes.  If you want a 3000 day, then cook a million.  Most of us can’t do that, but we can cook a hundred in a lifetime surely.  And if all you get is one cup of ketchup, that’s wonderful.  In fact, it’s better than Pentecost.  You did not fail by any means.  You did your part, and, even better, you did it God’s way.
 
For seeing that in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom knew not God, it was God's good pleasure through the foolishness of the preaching to save them that believe. Seeing that Jews ask for signs, and Greeks seek after wisdom: but we preach Christ crucified, unto Jews a stumblingblock, and unto Gentiles foolishness; but unto them that are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God. Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men. 1 Corinthians 1:21-25
 
Dene Ward
 

Oh, so many years ago we moved up to the frozen tundra.  At least that’s what north central Illinois felt like to this Florida native.  Keith worked with a small church there and I experienced blizzards, snowmen, and sledding for the first time in my life.  I also experienced a grudge-holder to end all grudge-holders. 

              An older fellow, a corn and soybean farmer, invited us to visit and before we had time to warm the seats of the chairs in his white two story farmhouse, he proceeded to give us some “important information.”  Another family in the church, he proclaimed, was not the faithful, unselfish, godly family they claimed to be.  Then one by one he listed all the “wrongs” they had done him, most of which amounted to being more prosperous than he.  They surely must have sinned to get that way!

              Keith was older and more experienced than I.  He saw through the “helpful” manner this man had adopted, and before his list was complete, Keith had asked a few probing questions that left him flummoxed.  Somehow this was not going the way he expected it would.  When we left that day, he had not accomplished his mission at all, which is entirely as it should have been.  When someone comes running to pour garbage on you, step aside as quickly as possible.  The truth will out, and before long the fruits we saw in both families made apparent who was and was not “faithful.”

              If I had just finished the faith study I had written back then, it would have been obvious to even me.  After all that research, the huge lists of passages I had, and the categories I eventually sorted them into, I found several mentioning circumstances that require “extra” faith to handle.  One of them made me laugh out loud at first, then it made me sit back and say, “Well, of course.”

              In Luke 17, Peter, somewhat proudly, asked the Lord if forgiving someone seven times wasn’t a “gracious” plenty.  No, Jesus tells him.  Not seven times, but seventy times seven.  I am positive Peter got the point—there should be no end to forgiving others; there must be no “last straw”--because he immediately exclaimed, “Lord!  Increase our faith!”  He understood that a failure to forgive is a sign of weak faith.

              I have puzzled over how those two things are connected for quite awhile now.  Finally I see two possibilities. 

              First, God says He will avenge me; I don’t have to worry about doing it myself.  Not to believe that is to question the love and care God has for me, a love He demonstrated in no uncertain terms when He gave His only begotten Son.  Of course He will avenge me.  If I don’t believe that, I may as well not believe the incarnation of the Lord.

              And then this:  do I believe that God will forgive me an infinite number of times?  I am supposed to be His child, striving to become like Him.  If I can’t forgive, then maybe I don’t believe He forgives, and if He doesn’t forgive, then my whole belief system is flawed.  Why do I bother?

              Our American culture tends to laud as strong those who fight back, take revenge, and hold grudges.  “That’s going too far,” and, “I just won’t take that,” has been uttered in countless movies by “the strong, silent type.”  And what do we all do?  We applaud the man who finally refuses to turn the other cheek.  We admire the man who fights back.  We approve the man who chooses not to forget the sins against him—the one who says, “I’ll never be hurt again.” 

              What if God said those things about us?  Aren’t you shivering in your boots to realize where you would be if God hadn’t said instead, “Your sins I will remember no more,” and “Though your sins be as scarlet they shall be as white as snow?”  Aren’t you thrilled beyond measure to read the inspired words of John, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness?” (Jer 31:34; Isa 1: 18; 1 John 1:9) 

              Do you ever find yourself wanting to tell everyone about the people you think have mistreated you?  You and that old Illinois farmer are standing in the same shoes.  Take off those shoes for you are standing on the Holy Ground of a God who loves and forgives to an infinite measure.  If you want to stand with Him, you must forgive in the same way.

              “Lord, increase our faith.”
 
Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord." Romans 12:19.
 
Dene Ward