This blog is a long term investment.  It debuted August 2, 2012.  But even before that, I began writing devotionals that I sent to a small email list three times a week.  That first list contained 32 names.  Many times I have thought about quitting, especially when I looked at a blank screen and could not think of a thing to write, but knew I had to if this thing is going to stay alive.  “Why?” I think, especially since I rarely get feedback and sometimes wonder if anyone else cares whether I bruise my brain for a couple dozen hours a week anyway.

 My average pageview day runs 300-400, with an occasional spike of 2000+.  I have now passed over a million pageviews total.  But look back where I started—32 names.  It has taken many years of hard work, truly a long term investment.  I would never have made it this far if I had given up.

 Life is made up of long term investments.  Education, marriage, children, career, mortgages, as well as stock portfolios, and many other things take years to show any profit, any growth, any benefit.  In spite of our instant gratification society, most of us know this about life:  some things are worth the time and trouble and the long, long wait, and many of us manage to avoid quitting.

 Why do we forget that in our spiritual lives?  We become Christians and expect overnight that our problems will disappear, that our temptations will cease, and that our faith will move mountains.  Then reality sets in and instead of working on it, we give up.  We go to an older, knowledgeable Christian and ask for help in learning to study, but after two or maybe three weeks of making the time to meet and finding the time to do the studies he assigns, we quit.  It’s too tedious and we are too busy.  We thought there was some get-wise-quick formula.  It’s just the Bible after all, not rocket science.

 It’s perfectly normal to have bouts of discouragement.  David did:  How long O Lord?  Will you forget me forever?  Psalm 13:1.  Asaph did:  All in vain have I kept my heart clean and washed my hands in innocence.  73:13. I’ve tried and tried and gotten nothing for it!  Why bother?  And then they remind us to look ahead, because it is a long term problem with a long term solution.  In just a little while the wicked will be no more…you guide me with your counsel and afterward you will receive me into glory.  Psalm 37:10; 73:24.  Sometimes the wait seems long, especially when we are suffering, but faith will be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him 37:7.

 And if you are floundering a little, wondering perhaps if you will ever make it, if your faith will ever be strong, if you will ever be able to overcome temptation on a regular basis, give yourself a break.  This doesn’t happen overnight.  Are you better than you were last year?  Did you overcome TODAY?  That’s progress.  Keep working at it.  No one expects to lose 100 pounds in a week.  Some of us have way more than that to lose spiritually. 

 The reward is worth the waiting.  It is worth the struggle.  It is even worth the tedium of learning those difficult names and the exercise involved in buffeting our bodies.  But you won’t get there if you give up, if you say, “This is boring,” or “I’m too busy,” or “I can’t do it.” 

 I have many new friends because of something I started a long time ago during a difficult time of life.  I cannot imagine being without them now.  I certainly don’t want to be without the Lord.
 
For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God you may receive what is promised, Heb 10:36.
 
Dene Ward

 It's amazing what having children can do to you.  You find reserves of strength you never knew you had when their temperatures rise and their chubby little cheeks turn rosy with fever.  You find you can do without sleep or food far longer than you ever expected.  Even more astounding, you find the Mama Bear that has been lurking unexposed your whole life until the very second someone looks at your child cross-eyed, much less actually threatens them. Grandchildren add a totally new dimension to all of this.  At least when your children are young, you are still in relatively good shape physically.  But for your precious grandchildren, arthritic knees, stiff backs, and eye-blurring cataracts will not stop you from your appointed rounds!

 Silas is in high school now, playing his first year on the varsity basketball team.  Living with a house full of men all these years, I have learned enough to know that his defense is stellar, with 2 or 3 steals and 4 or 5 rebounds a game.  He is also an assist "machine," some of which are so crisp and clean they take your breath away.  Besides all that, he makes a few points every game, yet does all of this in usually about 2 quarters since he is not yet a starter—but would be if Grandma had a vote.

 As supportive grandparents, we bought season tickets to the home games and rarely miss one.  Unlike the flag football team—where he is known for his touchdown receptions and interceptions—basketball games are played in a gym.  The home gym is 59 years old and I would bet the bleachers are the same age.  The orangy brown wood is scuffed from years of sneakers, Keds to Air Jordans to Ohtani's New Balance, I imagine.  At the bottom in the middle is something they call a step, which leads you to the top.  Evidently, 59 years ago, people were much taller, or at least had longer legs.  This "step" is higher than my knees, my achy arthritic knees.  So now they tell me to climb on up.  Pardon?  I can barely lift my foot that high, much less actually climb up.  No one is sitting there, I think, so why can't I just sit down myself?  Because, in pretty black stencil are the letters "NOT A SEAT."

 The first time I tried to step up nothing happened.  So I rocked back a step and gave it another try.  Still no go.  At this point Keith lifted on my elbow.  I am here to tell you the elbow is NOT the problem.  A lady sitting to the side on the second row reached out and asked, "Can I help you ma'am?"  I had no idea who she was, probably a fan from the other team, but she was obviously a well-bred Southerner—the ma'am always gives us away.  Meanwhile, the line behind me is growing longer.  Finally, someone—I have no idea who but just as obviously an NFL fan—gave me a "tush push" and I made it up the step.  The remainder of the steps were built for us ordinary folks so I made it to my seat.

 This has happened at every home game.  By now I am the pre-game entertainment that the whole crowd breathlessly waits for.  Even if their own team loses, they get to watch an old lady make an absolute idiot out of herself.  But I do it for my grandson and I would do it every day if I had to.  I went to a flag football game and nearly got creamed by a player going out of bounds as I sat on the sideline.  The young man found out he was really good at hurdles.  I went to a play and sat in front of a wiggly group of kindergartners.  I babysat for 18 days and by the time it was over I could hardly move I was so tired. I "ate" spaghetti and meatballs made of pine straw and rocks.  I kept chicken nuggets in my freezer along with curly fries for one and sweet potato fries for the other, and always kept the cookie jar full.  You do these things when you are a grandparent, and you don't mind a bit if you look or sound ridiculous doing it, if it's tiring, inconvenient, or embarrassing.

 For, I think, God hath set forth us the apostles last of all, as men doomed to death: for we are made a spectacle unto the world, both to angels and men.  We are fools for Christ's sake, but you are wise in Christ; we are weak, but you are strong; you have glory, but we have dishonor. Even unto this present hour we both hunger, and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and have no certain dwelling-place; and we toil, working with our own hands: being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we endure;1Cor4:9-12

 Paul said the apostles were willing to be made a spectacle for the sake of Christ, his gospel and his church.  How about us?  I am afraid we are too proud sometimes.  Who wants to look different than the rest of the world?  I honestly think that is the real reason for immodesty, not the desire to show off skin.  We just do not want to be different.  My skirts were the longest ones in my high school class, along with two other Christians.  Unfortunately, there were more than two other Christians at the school.  Lucas finally gave up on the high school baseball team because the locker room talk was so vulgar, coarse, and crude.  My own Daddy was ridiculed at work because his language did not match the other workers'.  They called him, "Shucks," but you know what?  I never even heard that word come out of his mouth.

 What are we not willing to do for the Lord because it will affect how we are perceived by our neighbors, coworkers, or unconverted family?  In our old home, we were friends with some Mennonites.  Do you think those women and girls were never stared at when they went grocery shopping?  Their long skirts and modest tops, their hair pinned high in something resembling a snood, definitely garnered attention from others, most of it unkind.  While I do not believe we need to be that careful, I find myself wondering if any of us could take it if it were required by God.  Can we really say we love the Lord our God with all [our] heart and with all [our] soul and with all [our] might (Deut 6:4)? 

 I will do most anything for my grandchildren, just as I did for my children.  I do it because of how much I love them.  Maybe we should ask ourselves if we love God and our Lord Jesus that much.

For the love of Christ constrains us; because we thus judge, that one died for all, therefore all died;and he died for all, that they that live should no longer live unto themselves, but unto him who for their sakes died and rose again2Cor5:14,15

Dene Ward

I took my first writing course as a junior in high school.  Our first assignment included stapling the rough draft to the final copy.  Imagine my surprise when the teacher handed back my paper with this written across the front of the rough draft:  This is too neat.  You didn’t make enough changes and corrections.  A rough draft should look that way—rough!

 Then I looked at my finished paper.  I saw words marked out, phrases circled and “pointed” by an arrow to another place in the sentence.  I saw other words added, and suggestions made with question marks beside them.  Whole sentences were bracketed and directions written above:  “make these phrases parallel;” “needs a concrete noun;” “get rid of the intensifiers.”  In fact, what I saw before me was a real rough draft, exactly how my own should have looked. 

 As the class continued and I learned better writing techniques, my rough drafts became messier and messier.  Sometimes at the end, it took me a half hour to decipher the code of scribbled notes and write what I wanted to turn in.  But inevitably, the rougher the draft, the better the finished product turned out. 

 I learned not to “fall in love with my own words,” as my teacher called it.  I took a red pen to my own creation and marked out words like a safari guide slashing through brush with a machete.  I kept a thesaurus handy to help with vocabulary choices, making nouns and verbs so concrete that few modifiers were even necessary.  I not only got rid of intensifiers, I deleted delayers too, then I worked on turning 8 word clauses into 4 word phrases, concentrating the effect of the writing, rather than diluting it.  Sometimes I even deleted whole paragraphs. 

 Before long I could write better the first time around, but still see places to improve on the read-through, smaller things that would have gotten lost in the obvious mess beforehand.  Even now, when reading something I wrote years ago, I automatically go into edit mode.  Even after it’s put on the blog, I notice things I wish I had changed.  What I said wasn’t wrong, but I could have made it just a teensy bit better, even after the half a dozen edits I always do.

 Today should be your life’s rough draft for tomorrow.  Every evening you should go over your actions, your words, your attitudes and see where you need to “edit.”  If you don’t see anything, you are obviously new to the idea like I was the first time I tried.  My first paper sounded pretty good to me, so I didn’t see the need to change much, but if you were to find it somewhere after all these years, I bet I could hack it to pieces in ten short minutes now.  That is how we need to get about our lives if we ever expect to improve as children of God and become spiritually mature.  We must learn to see the changes we need to make, the faults we try to hide from others and only wind up hiding from ourselves.  If I make the same mistakes every day, then my rough draft isn’t rough enough.

 Let me quickly say this: God doesn’t want you constantly discouraged, thinking you are never right with Him because there is always something you could have done “better.”  God wants us to know that we have eternal life, according to John (1 John 5:13), and that happens because of grace—not because you are perfect.  But that is a far cry from the complacency that believes it already has things figured out, doesn’t need to learn anything new, and always sees the faults of others without ever considering that it might possibly have one or two itself.

 Today, write your rough draft on the paper of time.  Do the best you can.  Then tonight, see what needs editing.  If you write the same thing tomorrow, you are still just a beginner in this class, no matter how old you are.  It’s time to get to work.

Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, Eph 4:15.

Dene Ward

We live on wooded property—spreading live oaks, pencil straight slash pines, red and silver maples, fast-growing sycamores, sweet gums with their spiky balls, wild cherry and water oaks, both of which will split and fall at the least breeze.  When I walk Chloe around the perimeter I dodge fallen limbs, both deadfall and green, every ten feet or so.  Sometimes I find larger limbs that have fallen overnight, and once one fell right in my path just seconds after I had passed. 

 Often in the night, especially a windy one in the spring or fall as fronts pass through, I hear limbs hit the roof.  They are surprisingly loud and I awake expecting to find something large and heavy only to waste Keith’s time as he climbs the ladder to discover a two foot long twig no bigger around than his thumb.  It certainly sounded bigger than that!

 A few months ago, after a particularly windy winter storm, Chloe and I came upon a fallen pine limb, three feet long maybe and about two inches in diameter.  This one, though, was not lying on the ground.  The wind had cast this one with enough force that it had stuck straight into the ground through the sod.  I pulled it out and a full six inches of it was below the surface.  Imagine if that one had come hurtling through the sky at me as I walked by.

 Words are a bit like fallen limbs.  You never know who they will hit and how.  We are often just as careless as the wind in hurtling them about.  We may think the only one who hears is the one we are addressing.  We may think that everyone knows us and understands how it is meant.  We may think that what was said was perfectly innocent and completely impossible to mistake for something bad.  We may be very wrong.

 Yes, people need to listen with as much charity as we need to speak.  The Bible, particularly the wisdom literature, is full of cautions not only about how we speak but how we listen.  Even Jesus said, “Take heed how you hear.”  Hearing involves maybe as much responsibility as speaking. Do not take to heart all the things that people say, lest you hear your servant cursing you. Your heart knows that many times you yourself have cursed others, Eccl 7:21,22.

 But just maybe we could stand to be a bit more careful in our speaking.  Words can hurt, and unlike physical wounds, may never heal.  What sounds like a twig to us may sound like a massive branch falling on the roof to the hearer.  And a multitude of the same kinds of words has an effect that is hard to erase.  What kinds of words do I use the most?  Praise or criticism?  Thanksgiving or complaining?  Encouragement or rebuke?  Tough love is necessary and is necessarily painful, but do I ever practice any other kind?  Are all my words, or even just the majority, “tough?”  And am I proud of having that sort of reputation?  Do people cringe when they see me coming?

 Those things I can control, but what about the things I say that are not meant to harm, but still manage to do so?  What about things I toss off without thought, directed at no one in particular, but that, like a fallen limb, accidentally come close to someone else’s heart?  Yes, for those who are mature, we can go back to the responsibility laid on hearers in that Ecclesiastes passage and in Jesus’ and the apostles’ words about being quick to judge, but what about the perfectly innocent babes?  What about young impressionable Christians? 

 If I shoot a gun into the air, the bullet will land somewhere, and my having shot it will make me accountable to the law of the land.  Will God’s law hold us any less accountable for the spiritually injured? 

I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned, Matt 12:36,37.

Dene Ward

A few Sundays ago the chill weather made it possible for me to wear my best suit, one a little heavier than anything else I have, one a little more expensive, but a hand-me-down from a friend.  We stopped at the grocery store on the way home to pick up a couple of limited time specials.  That’s one way we stay financially afloat—picking up specials when we are already the thirty miles into town for assembly.

 So we were loading the trunk and as she passed, a stranger said to me, “That’s a lovely suit.  You’ve been to church, haven’t you?  I apologize for being nosy, but would you mind telling me where you attend?”

 Would I mind?!  Of course I spent the next five or ten minutes telling her where I attend, when we meet, who we are, and what we do.  Then I handed her a blog card and pointed out my contact information in case she had more questions.  “Please email me or just call.  I can give you more detailed directions,” I finished with.

 I know a lot of people who no longer “dress up” for church.  They certainly have that right.  But I know a lot of others who go even further—who tell those of us who grew up doing it that we are wrong, that we are trying to be Christians on the outside instead of the inside.  I have yet to figure out why wearing my good suit on Sunday makes me a hypocrite any more than someone who thinks sitting on the pew in jeans on Sunday then dressing up for the boss all week makes him a Christian. 

 In fact, tell me this.  If you were this woman and you were searching, who would you ask on a Sunday around noon at the grocery store—the guy in shorts, tee shirt and flip-flops or the man with a tie on?  The lady with a dress on or the one with cut-offs and an oversized shirt hanging over her waistline?  Maybe there is something to be said after all for making it obvious on a Sunday that you have been to church. 

 But then we have this point—it isn’t what you wear on Sunday that makes the Christian; it’s what you wear every day. 

 Put on therefore, as God's elect, holy and beloved, a heart of compassion, kindness, lowliness, meekness, longsuffering; forbearing one another, and forgiving each other, if any man have a complaint against any; even as the Lord forgave you, so also do you: and above all these things [put on] love, which is the bond of perfectness, Col 3:12-14.

 My neighbors need to see these spiritual clothes every day.  There can be no “dressing down” spiritually after you have “put on Christ” in baptism, Gal 3:27.  The people I work with, the people I go to school with, the people I come into contact with, especially on a regular basis, should know by my speech and my actions that “I went to church on Sunday.”  God won’t accept a “casual Friday” set of spiritual clothes any day of the week.

 I’ve had a great many things make people ask me questions—maybe that’s a good subject for another day, but it all boils down to this—I have to look different.  Whether it’s how I act, how I speak, how I run my family, or any number of ways, it needs to be obvious.  Let’s stop making judgments about one another’s literal clothes, and just go out there and show people who we are with the spiritual wardrobe of a child of God. 

The night is far spent, and the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light. Let us walk becomingly, as in the day; not in reveling and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to [fulfil] the lusts [thereof]Romans 13:12-14.

Dene Ward

Have you fallen prey to it yet?  You post something on Facebook and then sit back and wait.  You check it every five minutes at first, then maybe stretch it out a bit, and before you know it, you have sat there for an hour or two and what have you been doing?  Waiting to see if someone “likes” you.  Yes, the quest for popularity affects the masses, and many make use of that pathetic craving of ours. 

 After this Absalom got himself a chariot and horses, and fifty men to run before him. And Absalom used to rise early and stand beside the way of the gate. And when any man had a dispute to come before the king for judgment, Absalom would call to him and say, “From what city are you?” And when he said, “Your servant is of such and such a tribe in Israel,” Absalom would say to him, “See, your claims are good and right, but there is no man designated by the king to hear you.” Then Absalom would say, “Oh that I were judge in the land! Then every man with a dispute or cause might come to me, and I would give him justice.” And whenever a man came near to pay homage to him, he would put out his hand and take hold of him and kiss him. Thus Absalom did to all of Israel who came to the king for judgment. So Absalom stole the hearts of the men of Israel, 2 Sam 15:1-6.

 Absalom made everyone feel “liked” and that “stole their hearts.”  But Absalom wasn’t even the first.  In Judges 9:3 the people of Israel had “hearts inclined to follow Abimelech.”  Both of these men were wrong for God’s people and were eventually killed, but that didn’t stop the people from falling prey to what was “popular.”

 Do you think that hasn’t happened to you?  Why do you wear what you wear?  Why do you watch the television shows you watch?  Why do you go to the restaurants you do?  Whatever is popular at the time steals our hearts because we think that by doing the popular thing we will become popular.  The problem comes when that affects us spiritually.  If I am wearing clothing I shouldn’t because everyone else is, I need a stronger character.  If I am watching inappropriate entertainment, I need to remember who I claim to follow. 

 The people of Israel were taken in by what was popular over and over again.  Ezekiel tells us “their hearts went after their idols” and “covetousness,” 20:16; 33:31.  Jeremiah talks about them “going after the imagination of their hearts,” 9:14; 13:10.  And why did they do those things?  Not only because they were the popular things to do, but because falling in with the crowd made them popular too.  Simply put, you can’t be different and popular in the world at the same time.

 What is your heart going after?  If it’s popularity and wanting to be “liked,” then you are prey to popular evils just like 99% of the rest of the world.  God calls us to be different.  A Christian doesn’t need to be “liked” on Facebook or anywhere else as long as God “likes” him.

For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ,Gal 1:10.

Dene Ward

Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever!  Psalm 107:1

            Have you ever had a friend who made you wonder how you would be greeted and treated on any particular day?  Have you ever had a boss who one minute nominated you for employee of the year and the next left you in fear of losing your job?  Have you yourself ever woke up one morning and bitten everyone’s head off just for being alive and daring to smile?

            Moody people are difficult to deal with.  You never know how to act.  You never know what to say and not to say.  In fact, you do your best to avoid people like that if at all possible.  And when you recognize that you have done it to others, you loathe yourself for it.  It isn’t right; it isn’t fair; it certainly isn’t kind.

            This brings me to the verse at the top, a promise we all too often read without thinking, as if it were a meaningless refrain.  “His steadfast love endures forever.”  It isn’t just that God will love us forever, though that is reason enough to praise Him.  That word “endure” also carries with it the idea that His love is consistent and will never waver.  You will never find God in a bad mood. 

            You don’t have to worry that one day He has a headache and might be a little short-tempered.  He won’t ever get up on the wrong side of bed and snap at you because you dared to talk to Him before He had His morning cup of coffee.  He won’t decide on a whim one morning to hand you a pink slip.  God’s love is consistent—nothing can cause it to vacillate as long as you serve Him with all your heart.

            If we truly want to be more like Him, we should love Him the same way—whether the day brings good or ill, whether we feel well or not, and even when we suffer.  It’s not like He didn’t suffer for us, and not only did His love not waver then, it is precisely because of His unwavering love for us that He suffered.

            And if we want to serve Him, maybe we should do our best to get past those bad moods we foist on others.  There is no excuse for pettiness, for mean-spiritedness, for spite and malice, no matter what we are going through at the time, certainly not because we just happen to be in a bad mood that day.  As servants, we don’t have the right to be in a bad mood--we must be in the mood to love and serve Him every day, which means, according to Matthew 25, loving and serving others that way. 

            Unwavering, eternal love—that’s what He gives, and that is what we should return. 

Love is patient and kind…it is not arrogant or rude. It is not irritable or resentful… 1 Cor 13:4-6.

Dene Ward

When my mother raised us, she always said, “I’m not running a restaurant.  You get what I serve,” and what she served was always fine with me.  I don’t recall a single bad meal.  Even recently I heard a television cook reminisce about coming to dinner as a child and eating what was put in front of her, so my family wasn’t weird, and neither was I when I followed suit as an adult.  It was as much about finances as anything else, but it certainly helped teach a few things, like, you don’t always get what you want in life and be grateful for whatever there is.

            But once in awhile I tried to please everyone as much as possible.  If the main dish was one boy’s favorite, then dessert was the other boy’s favorite.  It was the best of both worlds for them—a favorite entrée and a favorite dessert.

            Recently I have come up with a dessert that has to be the best of both worlds.  I haven’t decided whether to call it a cheesecake brownie or a brownie cheesecake.  It has two layers: a brownie bottom, and a cheesecake top.

            So, if you like chocolate and cheesecake, you can have both in one piece.  If you want chewy and smooth and creamy this is the dessert for you.  If you like chocolate and vanilla, this is even better than Neapolitan ice cream.  It’s even part convenience food and part “from scratch.”  The brownie layer is a mix and the cheesecake layer is all homemade.  A friend told me it’s perfect for her and her husband.  He has celiac disease, so he eats the gluten-free cheesecake layer and she eats the brownie layer.  Like I said, the best of both worlds.

            Now try to convince your neighbors that as a Christian you have the best of both worlds.  All they can see is what you can’t do and how much you sacrifice in time, energy, and types of entertainment.  Especially if all you do is complain about what you can’t do, ruing the messed up weekends, the missed ball games and picnics, what else do you expect?  You are supposed to make your life look like something they will want, not something they will hate.

            So perhaps we should start by convincing ourselves.  We don’t have to go to church; we get to assemble with our spiritual family.  We don’t have to dress differently; we get to look like decent, classy people instead of prostitutes.  We don’t have to give up drinking and smoking and drugs; we get to keep our dignity, breathe clearly, and preserve as many brain cells as possible.  We don’t have to give up revenge and gossip; we get to get along with people and stay out of trouble.  We don’t have to watch our language; we get to look like intelligent people with a real vocabulary.  We don’t have to give up status and money and things; we find our joy wherever we are in any situation—we have learned in whatever circumstances we are “to be content,” Phil 4:12, and contentment equals happiness.

            God does not expect us to be miserable in order to earn Heaven.  Being a Christian is not a horrible life.  It is a life of joy, a life of fulfillment, a life of health, a life of spiritual wealth.  I have more family than any of my neighbors.  One of them was amazed at the food brought during my surgeries, at the women who cleaned my house and the teenagers who raked the yard after Keith had a serious illness.  If I ever need help, I don’t have just one person to call, I have a whole list. 

            My marriage is intact and happy.  My children are happy, productive citizens, and servants of the Lord to boot.  We don’t have money problems because we don’t love things and don’t need luxury to be satisfied.  We don’t have legal problems because we are honest and law abiding.  We don’t lose our faith over our illnesses and disabilities because we have something far better in store for us.

            Which leads us to the next world.  If this life has been good—not perfect, for how could it be in a cursed world—the next one will be nothing short of amazing, an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fades not away, reserved in heaven for you,1 Pet 1:4.

            God promises us a “best of both worlds” life, far better than a “best of both worlds” dessert.  But He doesn’t make you eat it.  He gives you a choice.  You can have this world and the next if you do it His way.  Otherwise, this one is all you get.

For bodily exercise is profitable for a little; but godliness is profitable for all things, having promise of the life which now is, and of that which is to come, 1 Tim 4:8.

Dene Ward

If you want the mentioned recipe, click on "Dene's Recipes."

When I was very small, my favorite song was “Wake Up, Little Susie.”  I am probably dating myself with that admission.  In case you are from a different generation, the song was about a young couple who fell asleep during their movie date, and were afraid of what people might think. 

            Psalm 103 is David’s version of the song—one he is singing to himself.  Bless the LORD, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name! ​Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, vv 1-2.  I found it difficult to see that “wake up” admonition, I admit.  But every commentator I checked, five of them, saw it clear as a bell.  One likened it to Psalm 42:5:  Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.  That one is much easier to see.  Why are you so depressed, he asks himself, when you have the salvation offered by God?  Now look again at 103:  Bless the Lord…and forget not his benefits.

            For isn’t that exactly what we do?  We go along in our ordinary, normal lives, nothing important happens, nothing exciting happens, and we become complacent in our service and even a little despondent in our ordinariness, and forget what God has done for us.  But just think about this morning.  You woke up in your comfortable bed (check) in your comfortable house (check), possibly next to your beloved (check).  You ate a breakfast from a pantry and refrigerator full of possibilities (check).  You stood in front of a closet and chose from among all those clothes what you wanted to wear (check).  You might have gotten in your car (check) and driven to school or work or the store without mishap (check).  How many blessings is that already that you never even noticed?  How many more will you receive the rest of the day, and still not notice?

            “Forget not his benefits!” David reminds himself—and later on the people of Israel, and ultimately us.  Why is it that when something bad happens we will blame God, but never think to give Him credit for all the good we enjoy nearly every single minute of the day?  “Wake up and praise the Lord!”

            And then there is this:  while God gives us brethren to encourage us, David shows us that in the final analysis, we are responsible for our own rousing.  We cannot blame the church, we cannot blame the elders, we cannot blame our families if we fall into hopelessness and despair—it’s my business to see myself clearly, to notice when I need a nudge or a prod or even a kick in the rear.  And after I have awakened, then I will follow David’s example of leadership and wake others too. 

            Which is what this has been, I hope—wake up little Susie, or Joey, or Charlie, or Cathy, or whatever your name may be.  Do not forget the benefits of being God’s child.  Always count your blessings, no matter how trite that may seem.  David did.  He’s not a bad leader to follow.

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change, James 1:17.

Dene Ward

When our boys were in middle school we gave them a croquet set.  At first they seemed a little disappointed—croquet?  How boring.  Then we actually started playing and they discovered strategy, like whacking your opponent completely out of bounds with one of your free shots.  Now that was fun.

            We have settled down to annual games during the holidays whenever we get together.  It is the perfect way to let the turkey digest, and we usually wind up playing two or three times.  But that time of year means a less than clear playing field on what is already a rollercoaster lawn.  Our yard, you see, isn’t exactly a lawn.  It’s an old watermelon field, and though the rows have settled somewhat after thirty-odd years, we still have low spots, gopher holes, ant hills, and armadillo mounds.  But in the fall we also have sycamore leaves the size of paper plates, pine cones, piles of Spanish moss, and cast off twigs from the windy fronts that come through every few days between October and March.  You cannot keep it cleaned up if you want to do something besides yard work with your life.  So when you swing your mallet, no matter how carefully you have aimed, you never really know where your ball will end up.  We call it “ultimate croquet.”  Anyone who is used to a tabletop green lawn would be easy pickings for one of us—even me, the perennial loser.

            All those “hazards” make for an interesting game of croquet, but let me tell you something.  I have learned the hard way that an interesting life is not that great.  I have dug ditches in a flooding rainstorm, cowered over my children during a tornado, prayed all night during a hurricane, climbed out of a totaled car, followed an ambulance all the way to the hospital, hugged a seizing baby in my lap as we drove ninety down country roads to the doctor’s office, bandaged bullet wounds, hauled drinking water and bath water for a month, signed my life away before experimental surgeries—well, you get the picture. Give me dull and routine any day. 

            Dull and routine is exactly what Paul told Timothy to pray for.  I exhort therefore, first of all, that supplications, prayers, intercessions, thanksgivings, be made for all men; for kings and all that are in high place; that we may lead a tranquil and quiet life in all godliness and gravity. This is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior; who would have all men to be saved, and come to the knowledge of the truth, 1 Tim 2:1-5. 

            Did you catch that?  Pray that our leaders will do what is necessary for us to have a “tranquil and quiet life” so that all men can “come to a knowledge of the truth.”  God’s ministers cannot preach the gospel in a country where everyone is in hiding or running in terror from the enemy, where you never have enough security to sit down with a man and discuss something spiritual for an hour or so, where you wonder how you will feed your family that night, let alone the next day.  The Pax Romana was one of the reasons the gospel could spread—peace in the known world.  That along with the ease of travel because every country was part of the same empire and a worldwide language made the first century “the fullness of times” predicted in the prophets.

            I don’t have much sympathy for people who are easily bored, who seem to think that life must always be exciting or it isn’t worth living.  I am here to tell you that excitement isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  And God gave us plenty to do during those dull, routine times.  It’s called serving others and spreading the Word.  If you want some excitement, try that.  It’s even better than Ultimate Croquet.

Now concerning brotherly love you have no need for anyone to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another, for that indeed is what you are doing to all the brothers throughout Macedonia. But we urge you, brothers, to do this more and more, and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, 1 Thes 4:9-11.

Dene Ward