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

I know this discussion has been around for years on Facebook and probably for a couple of millennia in the hearts of those who try to excuse their behavior.  But I do not think I have ever heard it discussed this way.

              All of you have dealt with people who try to justify themselves with a statement that begins, "But God wouldn't want…"  What exactly?  Me to be unhappy, me to live alone, me to deny who I really am, et cetera ad nauseam. All of the things they are trying to excuse are plainly condemned in the scriptures.  Usually we fall into their trap and wind up saying, "Yes, God does want you to be unhappy," and even though we have a qualifying statement after that—like, if it means you can't go to Heaven otherwise—no one will listen because of our culture's blind acceptance of anything that rouses warm, fuzzy emotions.  So let's just examine those first four words and leave the rest out.

              "But God wouldn't want…"  When someone says that, the red flags should start waving in your mind.  What exactly are they doing?  Presuming to speak for God, that's what.  Presuming to know exactly how God does and does not feel, what He does and does not want.  False prophets did this when they said they were speaking for God. 

              And the LORD said to me: “The prophets are prophesying lies in my name. I did not send them, nor did I command them or speak to them. They are prophesying to you a lying vision, worthless divination, and the deceit of their own minds. Therefore thus says the LORD concerning the prophets who prophesy in my name although I did not send them, and who say, ‘Sword and famine shall not come upon this land’: By sword and famine those prophets shall be consumed. (Jer 14:14-15)

              Presuming what God would say or do about something and then telling others in his name is presumption.  Presumptuous people did not fare well under the Law.

              The man who acts presumptuously by not obeying the priest who stands to minister there before the LORD your God, or the judge, that man shall die. So you shall purge the evil from Israel. (Deut 17:12)

              But the prophet, that shall speak a word presumptuously in my name, which I have not commanded him to speak…that same prophet shall die. (Deut 18:20)

              God does not take it kindly when we take His role, uttering pronouncements as if we were God Himself.  In fact, there is a word for that sort of behavior—blasphemy.  Think of that the next time you want to do something that He has plainly said he does not approve of, yet you utter those presumptuous words:  "God wouldn't want…"
 
…the Lord knows how to rescue the godly from trials and to keep the unrighteous under punishment until the day of judgment, especially those who follow the polluting desires of the flesh and despise authority. Bold, arrogant people! They do not tremble when they blaspheme the glorious ones. (2Pet 2:9-10)
 
Dene Ward

Bless the LORD, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name! Psalm 103:1
 
              In our Psalms class we came upon this call from David to bless Jehovah, a wake-up call directed first to himself as he sat complacent and satisfied with his ho-hum worship, and then later to the people who were following their king’s lead.  The question quite naturally arose then, how can a man bless God?  So we did a little research.

              Your first thought might be that there are two distinct words for “bless”—one for God blessing men and one for men blessing God.  Not true.  Both are the same Hebrew word.  It doesn’t take a Hebrew scholar to look at the anglicized word barak in several different verses and see that it is indeed the same word.

              Here is something else we discovered with but a small amount of time searching the scriptures:  “bless” usually does not involve physical things.  We tend to think that way in our all too materialistic culture.  When asked to count our blessings, what do we list?  When we ask God to bless us, what do we expect?  Yet in the scriptures, I found that well over half the times the word “bless” was used it involved nothing more than what we might call “well wishes,” wanting good to happen to the other person.  Now think about the opposite—if someone curses a person, what is it exactly that he wants?  He wants evil to befall that person.  We understand that perfectly fine; the problem comes when we think a blessing involves a tangible gift.  Of course, we cannot do that for God, but we can give God other “blessings.”

              We checked out over 300 verses using the word “bless,” many of which involved men blessing God.  It helped enormously when we saw the various ways that word is translated in the KJV.  In fact, some of these things completely lost there punch in the newer versions.  Let that be a lesson to you not to completely ignore those older versions.  They lasted a long time for a good reason.

              Five times the word is translated “salute.”  In the newer versions that word is translated “greet.”  There is a world of difference between saluting someone and simply saying hello.  Salutations involve respect.  Especially in 1 Sam 25:14 the difference between David’s men “saluting” Nabal and just greeting him color how we view Nabal’s reaction—it was completely out of line if he had been saluted.

              One time the word is translated “congratulate” (1 Chron 18:10).  When do you usually congratulate someone?  When he has received an accolade or a well-deserved award.  This word involves honor.

              One time the word barak is translated “thanks.”  This word denotes gratitude and appreciation.

              Three times it is translated “kneel” or some variation of it.  That word signifies humility and submission. 

              All of these are other English words used to translate the word “bless” found in Psalm 103:1, Bless God, O my soul.  So how do we as mere mortal men bless an Eternal and Almighty God?  We show respect, we give Him honor, we appreciate the things He has done for us, and with humility we submit our lives to Him.

              Can a disobedient person bless God?  Read that last paragraph again.  No, he cannot.  Can a self-righteous person bless God?  No, not a chance in the world.  Can a half-hearted Christian, who somehow thinks there is a minimum he can do to get by bless God?  None of those things show honor, respect, gratitude, and humility. 

              Be careful before you read Psalm 103.  It demands a whole lot more than most people want to give.
 
Then David said to all the assembly, “Bless the LORD your God.” And all the assembly blessed the LORD, the God of their fathers, and bowed their heads and paid homage to the LORD and to the king, 1 Chron 29:20.
 
Dene Ward

              We live on a slope.  The grade is gradual, so gradual you don’t really see it until it rains one of those sub-tropical downpours for which Florida is famous.  When four inches comes down in less than an hour, the property becomes a river two or three inches deep flowing downhill to the run, just past the property line.

              After the rain stops, the draining continues, though it slows to three or four tributaries and eventually two larger “rivers.”  One runs through the front yard, between the bird feeders, down around the house, across the septic drain field and off the property.  Another slants southeast through the PVC pipe culvert Keith installed under the road thirty-four years ago, down the berm on the top, north, edge of the garden and on east.  

              Usually within a couple of hours most of the water has drained, but puddles still fill a few low areas, and you learn where and how to walk for the next day or two.  On sandy land, the puddles dry up quickly, unless it’s the second weekend in a row with a four inch toad strangler.

              We learned early on to avoid those low spots for several days.  We first met one of our neighbors when we asked him to pull our car out of the mud with his tractor at least three times in one week.  Two months ago, for the first time in many years, he had to come down and do it again.  I knew what had happened when, after two deluges in one week, I heard the truck engine roar and looked out the window to see the back tires spinning and mud flying ten feet behind them.

              When you are stuck in the mud, you can’t move.  The wheels may rotate but all you do is dig ruts and uproot grass.  The harder you press the accelerator, the deeper the ruts and the less you move.  Even rocking the truck back and forth becomes impossible.

              Sometimes we get stuck in the spiritual mud.  It comes first with complacency.  We are happy with what we know and where we are, so we sit down, clasp our hands, and contentedly lean back with our feet up on the desk.  Proverbs speaks of the results of being a complacent “sluggard.”  Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest; so shall your poverty come as a robber, and your want as an armed man, 24:33,34.  Tell me the same thing won’t happen when we stop working on our spirituality.

              It isn’t just a matter of continuing to learn, though that is important.  An older woman in one of my classes has expressed appreciation for the new things I teach her.  “At my age it’s hard to find something new,” she said, “but you have given me that and it’s wonderful.”  Yes, the older you are, the more difficult it should be to find something new to learn, so you certainly cannot sit back and fold your hands in slumber—you must work even harder to find those things and they will be even deeper than the “first principles,” and require yet more thought and labor.

              But it is also a matter of progress.  I see people who haven’t changed one whit in thirty years, who still fight the same battles, who still fail the same way again and again.  I see people who still gossip, who still judge unfairly, who are still oversensitive and too easily offended.  I see people who still have their priorities upside down instead of finally learning the higher value of the spiritual over the carnal.  I see people who have come no closer to mastering self-control than when they were young and foolish—they just become too weary to go at it in their old age and that is all that has moderated their passions.

              So today, check to see where you stand—or wallow.  Are you stuck in the mud of worldliness and pleasure?  Are you glued in the mire of wealth and possessions and financial security?  Are you floundering in the quagmire of man’s philosophy and false theology?  Pull yourself out and start moving again.  If you cannot do it alone, call a neighbor to help.  That’s why God put us all here together. 

              And when the storms come into your life again, use your head—stay away from the low spots.  Find the high ground of spirituality and keep on climbing. 
 
I waited patiently for Jehovah; And he inclined unto me, and heard my cry. He brought me up also out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay; And he set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings. And he has put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God: Many shall see it, and fear, And shall trust in Jehovah. Psalms 40:1-3.
 
Dene Ward

I was nearly out of lotion and saw a sale--some fancy stuff for the same price as good old Lubriderm.  I stood there at the display amid way too many choices.  How do you decide between apple pomegranate, vanilla fluff, gingerbread, sugar plum, lemon twist, and blue ocean?  Well, I was afraid the last one would make me smell like salt cod so that was a no-brainer.

            I picked up the gingerbread tube and thought I would just flip open the top and give it a sniff.  Nothing.  I do have more trouble these days smelling things because of all the medications.  So I decided to give the tube a light squeeze so a puff of scented air from inside the tube would give me a better whiff. 

            Instead of air, a big glop of orange creamsicle-colored lotion shot straight into the air and arced over to the catchall shelf of sorts that I carry in front of me.  Plop!  A big orange spot appeared on my bright blue sweater. 

            Wait!  Is anyone looking?  Did anyone see?  I looked around guiltily and then, because I had nothing else with me, started wiping if off with my finger.  The sweater was dark enough and nubby enough that the spot no longer showed, but I had a big dollop of lotion to get rid of and the best I could think was to just rub it into my hands and arms.  I am sure the security people were laughing their heads off as they viewed the monitor that picked up this “I Love Lucy” moment.

            You know what?  I did not like the smell.  A friend later asked me if I had spilled machine oil all over myself.  No, just gingerbread body lotion, and I carried it about with me for a long eight hour day because I had a doctor’s appointment afterward.  Yuk!

            Let that be a lesson to you.  Sometimes we start wondering what we are missing out there in the big, bad world.  I have been good all my life—brought up “in the church,” taught to obey all authorities--parents, teachers, policemen--memorized all the no-nos for a Christian, and the scriptures to go along with them.  If all those things out there are so bad, why do so many spend their lives pursuing them?  What do they know that I don’t?  Just one little whiff is all I want.

            But that little whiff can easily become a big glop of smelly stuff that we carry with us far longer than the actual experience lasts.  Consequences can raise a big stink in your life.  In fact, they can ruin your life, and even the lives of those you love and have no desire to hurt.

            It is not a question of what those folks out there know that you don’t; it’s a question of what you know that they don’t—that sin is deceptively easy to fall into and sometimes impossible to get out of.  God will forgive you, but he will not wash away the consequences—like ruined relationships, like destroyed trust, like physical diseases or injuries, like jail time and a record that follows
you everywhere. 

            Though I did not really like it much, that little glop of lotion did not smell quite that bad when it landed on my sweater.  But as the day grew longer, it began to reek.  Sin will do exactly the same thing.
 
There is no soundness in my flesh because of your indignation; there is no health in my bones because of my sin.  For my iniquities have gone over my head; like a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me. My wounds stink and fester because of my foolishness, I am utterly bowed down and prostrate; all the day I go about mourning. For my sides are filled with burning, and there is no soundness in my flesh.  I confess my iniquity; I am sorry for my sin. Do not forsake me, O LORD! O my God, be not far from me! Make haste to help me, O Lord, my salvation! Selected verses from the 38th Psalm.
 
 Dene Ward

Every morning we have a special routine.  Even Chloe loves the routine. 

              She hears us moving around in the kitchen and her ears perk up under the porch.  I know because as soon as the door opens, she is out of there in a bound, up the steps, tail wagging and ears pointed to the heavens.  Her people are coming out to be with her, I am sure she thinks.  To be truthful we do enjoy our time with her too, tossing treats and watching her scamper around to find them like a fuzzy red-headed vacuum cleaner.  But the real draw is that final cup of coffee—the lazy cup, where we sit and talk and watch the morning break around us, sunbeams filtering through the eastern woods, birds fluttering around the feeders, and hawks screaming overhead.  Sometimes we are treated to a few deer creeping out of the woods, a fox snuffling through the scraps we throw over the fence, and once, a flock of eleven wild turkeys who decided all of sudden that maybe they should fly after all.  What an amazing sight that was!

              We especially love the cooler mornings of fall, winter, and spring, when we can build a fire to warm our toes while the coffee warms our innards.  The fires are growing smaller these days as time marches inexorably on and summer approaches.  Trust me, no one wants a fire in Florida after the first of May!

              One day this past winter, after Keith had gone on to an appointment in town, I picked up a small chunk of wood and threw it on for just a few more minutes of "lazy time."  I should have known from its light weight that the wood was nearly rotten.  It turned out to be not only damp, but totally saturated as well.  When I threw it on a perfectly good fire that gave off a hot and steady flame, immediately the blaze dimmed and smoke began pouring out of the wood like a thick, gray, wool blanket.  The flame gamely burned on, doing its best to keep up and catch the old log, trying to bring it to the same level of blaze.  After five minutes I knew it was a lost cause, so I grabbed the poker stick and rolled the rotten piece off the fire.  Immediately the flame increased in size, strength, and heat.  Once again my toes were warm, and the smoke had dissipated.

              And that made me wonder about me.  I am no longer a young woman.  In log terms, I am just about as old as that piece I had thrown on the fire.  So how do I affect the young Christians around me?  Am I so wet and rotten with age that all I do is dampen their enthusiasm, sending up clouds of "smoke" as I complain about their ways, about the changes in things I have grown so comfortable with that they have taken on the feel of "law" to this tradition-bound mind of mine?  And much more startling to consider, if someone rolled me off the fire and tossed me to the side, would the church be better off?

              Do I keep them from accomplishing the mission I once worked so hard for simply because they don't do it "my way" anymore?  Do I keep the light from reaching others just because I don't like the new lamps that have been chosen? 

            I can still work as an individual, using the methods and materials I am comfortable with on a personal level.  No one has any business telling an old log she doesn't matter to the Lord any more.  But surely I can avoid putting out the fire in the hearts of the next generation; surely I can encourage them as they take over the majority of the work now, cheering them on instead of stifling their enthusiasm.  This old hoary head only deserves their respect when it helps instead of hinders.
 
And there was one Anna, a prophetess, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher (she was of a great age, having lived with a husband seven years from her virginity, and she had been a widow even unto fourscore and four years), who departed not from the temple, worshipping with fastings and supplications night and day .And coming up at that very hour she gave thanks unto God, and spoke of him to all them that were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem. (Luke 2:36-38)
 
Dene Ward