We made a mistake this summer.  We planted climbing roses at either end of a fifteen foot long trellis, and then planted morning glories along it as well.  To fill up the blank spot in the middle, we told ourselves.  But as the summer progressed those morning glory vines wound their way not only up the trellis but across to the new rose canes and completely covered them.  They shaded the leaves from the already filtered sun in that area of the yard and even hid the few blooms the roses managed to put out.
            Enough, we decided, and Keith clipped the smothering vines one morning.  They were wound so tightly, I had to wait for them to begin to wilt before I could remove them without damaging the rose vines.  Do you know what happened?  For five days those clipped and wilted vines put on new blooms and not just a few.
            Finally on the fifth day, I grabbed some heavy duty scissors and began cutting and carefully unwinding them.  After a half hour of cautious work and quite a few bloody thorn-pricks, nearly all the morning glories were lying in a pile along the bottom of the trellis and I discovered more rose vines than I ever imagined trailing along nearly the entire fifteen feet of trellis.  I gathered the morning glories in an armful and tossed them out in the brushy field.
            The next morning we came out to look at the roses.  New red leaves grew on nearly every end, with half a dozen new buds.  Finally we can breathe, they seemed to be screaming at us.  Then we walked over to the field and out there in the thick grass lay those dead morning glory vines—with brand new purple, blue, pink, and magenta blooms on them!  The next morning we saw more new morning glory blooms.  It had been a week since they were cut and they had lain in the sub-tropical summer sun without even any rain. Yet there they were, putting on new blooms still, even though their vines were wilted and brown. 
            By faith Abel offered unto God a more excellent sacrifice than Cain, through which he had witness borne to him that he was righteous, God bearing witness in respect of his gifts: and through it he being dead yet speaks, Heb 11:4.
            How many hundreds of names do we know from the pages of Scripture?  Though they are long dead, their examples still speak to us and help us along our path. 
            Therefore let us also, seeing we are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily besets us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Heb 12:1.
            That great cloud of witnesses continues to speak as we read about their lives, as we study them in Bible classes and hear them spoken of in sermons.  We give our children great Bible heroes to pattern their lives after, and well we should.  But what is true of them is true of us as well.
            After we are gone, our deeds will continue to speak, maybe not to as many as those in the pages of Scripture, but to everyone who knew us.  What will they see in the field after we are gone?  Will we leave nothing but a wilted vine, or will colorful blooms still dot the ground?  Will the deeds we do continue to inspire others, or will our useless lives stand as an example not to follow?  Will people talk about us with words of blessing or will others need to come along and undo the damage we left behind?
            Think about my morning glories today.  Someday your stem will be snipped, too.  What will be left behind for others to see?
 
Show yourself in all respects to be a model of good works, and in your teaching show integrity, dignity, and sound speech that cannot be condemned, so that an opponent may be put to shame, having nothing evil to say about us, Titus 2:7,8.
 
Dene Ward

I went out to water my flowers early one morning, grabbed up the two gallon watering can and headed for the spigot.  The temperature had already risen to the upper 70s, and the humidity had beaten that number by at least twenty.  It dripped off the live oaks, bonking on the metal carport roof as loud as pebbles would have, but I knew that soon the plants would fold their leaves against the heat in a bid to keep as much moisture in them as possible.  A morning drink was a necessity for them to survive the coming afternoon.
            I picked up the filled can and began the long trudge to the flower bed.  What was that?  Water was running down the leg that bumped the can as I walked, so I lifted the can and examined it.  A steady stream of water poured out a tiny hole not quite halfway up its side.
            After a moment’s thought, I picked up the pace and made it to the bed in time to pour most of the water on the flowers.  Ordinarily after watering, I keep a full can next to the bed to fill the small bird bath next to it as needed, but that can would no longer hold even half its normal capacity.  So after the watering, I returned to the well tank and filled it only halfway and sat it by the bath.  I would have to fill it twice as often now, but at least I could get a most of a gallon out of it.  Better than nothing.
             We are a lot like that watering can.  We should be filled to the capacity that God intended, but too often we don’t hold even half of it.  Paul tells us we each receive a different gift according to the grace of God, Rom 12:6; Peter tells us to use that gift as a good steward of God’s grace, 1 Pet 4:10.  Holes in the can mean we are not using those gifts as God designed, squandering His grace in the process. 
            Sometimes we deny the grace.  “I can’t do that,” we say, when God has clearly put an opportunity in front of us.  Have you ever given someone a gift and had them tell you that you didn’t?  Of course not.  Everyone knows that the giver knows what he gave, yet here we are being so ridiculous as to tell God He most certainly did not give us any gifts.  God does not put opportunities in front of us that He has not given us the ability to handle.  More than anyone else—even more that we ourselves—He knows what we can and cannot do.  Denying His grace is simply disobedience.
            Sometimes we cheat the grace.  “I’m too busy,” we tell people when something comes up.  Never mind that the opportunity is squarely within my wheelhouse—if I don’t want to do it, being busy is the excuse of the day.  In fact, sometimes we make ourselves busy with things we prefer in order to avoid more difficult spiritual obligations.  It’s easier to work late one night than go visit a weak brother.  It’s more fun to work out with a peer (“keeping my temple healthy”) than learn how to study with an older Christian who wants to share his hard-earned knowledge.  Shopping must be done, but it is certainly less trouble—and a lot quicker--to go shopping alone than to take an older person who is no longer able to get out on her own.  And thus our busy-ness has kept us from filling ourselves to capacity.
            Sometimes we do our best to spoil the grace by poking the hole in the can ourselves.  God has a purpose for each one of us.  I can sabotage those plans by my own selfish choices in life.  Worldliness and materialism can diminish my capacity for the spiritual.  Bad habits can ruin a reputation and make me less effective.  Bad decisions can make me unfit for God’s original plan for me.  Even if I turn myself around and repent, I may never again have the same impact I would have if I had made better choices earlier in life.  I may very well have drilled a hole in the can so that it will only hold half or less what God intended it to hold.
            Take a good look at your watering can this morning.  God knows better than you how much it can hold.  Don’t deny the grace; don’t squander the opportunities.  Don’t drill a hole where one doesn’t belong.  Capacity is His business, not yours, and what He wants is an overflowing can.
 
Now in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver but also of wood and clay, some for honorable use, some for dishonorable. Therefore, if anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonorable, he will be a vessel for honorable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master of the house, ready for every good work, 2 Timothy 2:20-21.
 
Dene Ward

Keith had major surgery a couple of springs ago and because of his profound deafness I was with him in the hospital as caregiver 24/7.  We don’t do real sign language, but it is easier for me to communicate with him after 45 years of gradually adapting to his increasing disability.  People who are not used to it simply do not know how, and reading lips is not the easy fix to the problem that most think.
            Unfortunately, this hospital stay coincided with the garden harvest.  The beans, squash, and cucumbers had already begun coming in.  While we were away that week, those vegetables continued to grow.  When we got home, the beans were a lost cause--thick, tough, stringy and totally inedible.  The squash looked like a brass band had marched through, discarding their bright yellow tubas beneath the large green leaves, and the cucumbers as if a blimp had flown over in labor and dropped a litter.  If we expected the plants to continue to produce, I had to pull those huge gourds.  That first morning home I picked and dumped 8 buckets full.
            Gardens are taskmasters.  They don’t stop when it doesn’t suit your schedule.  They don’t wait till you have a free moment.  You must reap the harvest when it is ready or you lose it.  Every morning in late May and early June I go out to see what the day holds for me.  Will I be putting up beans or corn or tomatoes?  Will we have okra for supper or do I need to pickle it?  Are the jalapenos ready for this year’s salsa?  Are the bell peppers big enough to stuff or do I need to chop some for the freezer?  Do I need to make pesto before the basil completely seeds out? 
            And then you look for other problems.  Has blight struck the tomatoes?  Do the vining plants have a fungus?  Have the monarch butterflies laid their progeny on the parsley plants?  Have the cutworms attacked the peppers?  Has the ground developed a bacteria that is killing off half the garden almost overnight?  Do things just need watering?
            Childrearing can be the same way.  Children don’t stop growing until it suits your schedule. They don’t wait till you have a free moment.  You must reap the harvest when it is ready or you lose it.
            God expects you to carefully watch those small plants.  He expects you to check for problems before they kill the plants, and nip them in the bud.  It is perfectly normal for a toddler to be self-centered, but somewhere along the way you must teach him consideration for others.  Are you watching for ways to overcome his innate selfishness and teach him to share? Do you have a plan to teach him generosity?  It won’t happen by itself--you have to do it.
            Are you examining your children every day for those little diseases—stubbornness, a hot temper, whining, disrespect, or the other side of the “leaf”—inordinate shyness, self-deprecation, pessimism.  God expects you to look for problems from the beginning and try to fix them so your child will grow into a happy, well-adjusted adult, able to serve Him without the baggage of character flaws that should have been caught when he was very small.  Parents who ignore these things, thinking they will somehow go away when he grows up, are failing in their duties as gardeners of God’s young souls.  Those things will not disappear on their own any more than nematodes and mole crickets will.
            He also expects you to make clear-eyed judgments.  He may be your precious little cutie-pie, but you need to take off your tinted glasses and take a good look at him.  If you ignore his problems because you are too smitten to see them, you do not love your child as much as you claim.  Whoever spares the rod, hates his son, but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him, Prov 13:24.  When I ignore the blight in my garden, it’s because saving the garden isn’t important to me.
            Have you and your spouse ever just sat and watched your children play?  Have you ever given any thought at all to the things you might need to correct in them?  If your schedule is too busy for that, then you are too busy.  Period.  Your children will keep right on growing, and without your attentive care they may rot on the vine. 
            You are a steward of God’s garden.  The most important thing you can do today is take care of it.
 
Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within your house; your children will be like olive shoots around your table… Psalms 128:3.
 
Dene Ward

This year we picked our first garden produce in early April.  Finding that first inch long green bean hiding among the thick spade-shaped foliage gives you a thrill, but seeing the first shiny green silks spewing out of the corn shucks and the tassels creeping out of the top positively makes your mouth water.  When it has been nearly a year since sinking your teeth into a row of crisp, juicy, buttered and salted kernels, the anticipation is intense.
            If you are not a gardener you might not truly appreciate the sacrifice of the firstfruits under the Old Law.  Every gardener knows that the first picking is the best.  As time passes, the corn and beans toughen.  The tomatoes and peppers become smaller and smaller and rot more quickly from the many blemishes.  The cucumbers turn yellow and overblown before they reach their full length.  Yet we have the frozen food section at the grocery store and a produce section that brings food from places where the firstfruits are just appearing.  Many of us have never seen anything but the firstfruits.
            I’ve often heard that certain frozen and canned vegetables, especially sweet peas and tomatoes, are more reliably good than the fresh.  They are picked at their peak and processed within hours.  We can have the best any time of the year, and we take it for granted.  The devout Israelite never had that opportunity.  It was ingrained in him from birth:  the best belongs to the Lord.
            All the best of the oil, and all the best of the vintage, and of the grain, the first-fruits of them which they give unto Jehovah...The first-ripe fruits of all that is in their land, which they bring unto Jehovah… (Numbers 18:12-13)
            As a dedicated Hebrew watched his crops grow, his cattle bear, his vines hang lower and lower with the heaviness of ripening fruit, he knew that the best would not be for him, but an offering to the Lord.
            And this shall be the priests' due from the people, from them that offer a sacrifice, whether it be ox or sheep, that they shall give unto the priest the shoulder, and the two cheeks, and the maw. The first-fruits of your grain, of your new wine, and of your oil, and the first of the fleece of your sheep, shall you give him. For Jehovah your God has chosen him out of all your tribes, to stand to minister in the name of Jehovah, him and his sons forever. Deuteronomy 18:3-5.
            The pious Israelite knew that the best of the fruits of his labor would be eaten not by his family, but by Jehovah’s priests, his representatives on earth. 
            The first of the first-fruits of your ground you shall bring into the house of Jehovah your God. Exodus 23:19.
            Not just the firstfruits, but the first of the firstfruits—the best of the best—was required in his service to God.
            Most of us have learned that our weekly contribution of money must be “purposed” (2 Cor 9:7).  But we haven’t learned to apply that axiom to every aspect of our lives.  Too often God gets nothing but our leftover time, our leftover energy, our leftover effort.  I’ve heard Christians talk about exercising when their bodies are at their peak, about avoiding certain times of the day for important work, about matching body rhythms to tasks.  Do we ever talk like that our about service to God?  Do we offer service that is well planned, organized for maximum efficiency, and timed for greatest effect?  Yes, we often talk about caring for our temples (bodies) so we can use them for God, but then we use all that energy for everything else instead and still God gets the leftovers.
            The principle of the firstfruits was so important the Hezekiah included it in his great restoration (2 Chron 31:5).  It was deemed so necessary to a true attitude of worship that Nehemiah charged the returning exiles to keep those ordinances in particular (Neh 10:35-39).
            We sing a hymn:  “Give of Your Best to the Master.”  That principle has not changed.  In fact, we are the firstfruits (James 1:18), brought forth by the word of truth.  As such, God expects us to give ourselves.  If we do, the rest will follow.  If it hasn’t, maybe we need to take a closer look at our “devotion.”
 
…but they first gave themselves to God…2 Cor 8:5.                                    
 
Dene Ward                                                           

We planted them late by Florida standards, so I was just pulling carrots the first week of June.  It wasn’t difficult; I pulled the whole row in about 15 minutes.  Still, it was disappointing—a twenty foot row yielded a two and a half gallon bucket of carrots that turned into a two quart pot full when they were cleaned and sorted, cutting off the tops and tossing those that were pencil thin or bug-eaten.

            Then I thought, well, consider the remnant principle in the Bible.  Out of all the people in the world, even granting that the population was much less than it is now, only eight were saved at the Flood.  Out of all the nations in the world, God only chose one as His people.  Out of all those, only one tribe survived the Assyrians, and out of all those, only a few survived the Babylonians and only some of those eventually returned to the land.

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

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

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

            And there are some of us who have little to show on the outside, but a depth no one will know until a tragedy strikes, or an attack on the faith arises, or a need presents itself, and suddenly they are there, standing for the truth, showing their faith, answering the call.           

            I knew one man who surprised us all with his strength in the midst of trial, a quiet man hardly anyone ever noticed.  Yet his steadfastness under pressure was remarkable.  I knew another who had been loud with his faith, nearly boasting in his confidence that he was strong, yet who shocked us all with his inability to accept the will of God, his assertions that he shouldn’t have to bear such a burden when he had been so faithful for so long.  Truly those carrot tops will fool you if you aren’t careful.  “Judge not by appearance,” Jesus said, “but judge righteous judgment.”  Look beneath those leafy greens and see where and how your root lies.

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

           And don’t assume you are in the righteous remnant if that righteousness hasn’t been tested lately.  God hates more to throw out people than I hate to throw out carrots, but He will.  Don’t spend so much time preening your tops that your root withers.  And finally, only a few will make it to the table; make sure you are one of them.

Behold, I stand at the door and knock: if any man hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me. Revelation 3:20

Dene Ward        

Crepe myrtles are the super-plant of Florida summers.  Despite the heat, they bloom and seem to thrive, while everything else wilts and often dies.  The garden is over by the first of July, and the flower bed is far past its prime, but those crepe myrtles just keep on going, looking better than ever.  We had been searching for some at our North Florida home, the bush variety, not the trees, and hadn't found a one.  Nathan and Brooke gave us some shoots that had come up around theirs and we gratefully planted them, and kept on looking for those bushes.  I am still not sure there is actually a difference in the plant, as one article I read said, or if it is all about how it is pruned, but after five or six years we still hadn’t found what we wanted, and that fall noticed the seed pods on our transplants.  We looked at each other and said, “Well, I’ve never heard of doing it before, but why not plant those seeds in some nursery pots?”
            We did, and guess what?  In spite of the fact that we had never heard of doing it before, they grew!  The next spring we transplanted 8 one foot high crepe myrtles from that nursery pot experiment, all of which are blooming just fine in the Florida summer.        
            Haven’t you heard it?  Someone comes up with an idea for spreading the gospel—one that is not beyond the bounds of God’s authority—but someone else pipes up, “I never heard of doing that before,” and expects that to be the end of the discussion.  In fact it often is, especially when prefaced by “Why, I’ve been a Christian for forty years and I have never...”  I wonder how many things would never have been done if everyone had that notion? 
            And the king made from the algum wood supports for the house of the LORD and for the king's house, lyres also and harps for the singers. There never was seen the like of them before in the land of Judah, 2 Chronicles 9:11
            The throne had six steps, and at the back of the throne was a calf's head, and on each side of the seat were armrests and two lions standing beside the armrests, while twelve lions stood there, one on each end of a step on the six steps. The like of it was never made in any kingdom, 1Kgs 10:20.
            And because of all your abominations I will do with you what I have never yet done, and the like of which I will never do again. Ezekiel 5:9.
            He has confirmed his words, which he spoke against us and against our rulers who ruled us, by bringing upon us a great calamity. For under the whole heaven there has not been done anything like what has been done against Jerusalem, Daniel 9:12.
            God didn’t seem to have any trouble accepting Solomon’s unique adornments for his throne and for the Temple.  He wasn’t above using punishments the like of which no one had ever seen before.  He certainly didn’t mind confounding the world by sacrificing His Son for our sins.  Aren’t you glad?
            We might be in bad company if “I’ve never heard of doing that before” becomes the source of authority for our actions. 
            As they were going away, behold, a demon-oppressed man who was mute was brought to him. And when the demon had been cast out, the mute man spoke. And the crowds marveled, saying, "Never was anything like this seen in Israel." But the Pharisees said, "He casts out demons by the prince of demons," Matthew 9:32-34.
            Jesus didn’t fit their preconceived notions so they accused Him of consorting with the Devil.  I’ve heard Christians come close when someone suggested something new to reach the lost, especially if it cost any money. 
            God tells us every word and action should be by His authority, not by whether we’ve heard of it or not.  I wouldn’t have any crepe myrtles if we had followed that dictum—and none of us would have a hope of salvation.
 
For from of old men have not heard, nor perceived by the ear, neither hath the eye seen a God besides thee, who works for him that waits for him, Isaiah 64:4.
 
Dene Ward

It’s another summer morning in Florida.  Nine o’clock, 78 degrees, yet before you have taken ten steps outside your skin begins to prickle in that way it does just before a sweat breaks out, and your hair begins to wilt or kink, depending upon its natural state of curl or uncurl.  The trees are dripping so that it sounds like rain on the metal carport roofing, and the hazy air is thick enough with humidity to drown you if you breathe too quickly.  The damp ground smells loamy, and in places a little sour.  A film of perspiration has already formed over your lips and your shirt feels like it came out of the dryer five minutes too soon. 
            If you stay out longer than a few minutes, the only word that truly describes how you feel is “nasty.”  Sweaty, greasy, grimy, sandy, and swarming with gnats and yellow flies.  As uncomfortable as it is, I still try to get all my yard work done then, before the temperature rises to match the humidity and the sub-tropical sun beats on you as mercilessly as an Egyptian taskmaster.  I spray the underside of my garden hat brim with Off and don my work out clothes.  No need messing up something else with gray grime that will never come out once you have soaked them in the righteous sweat of labor, for dripping with it you will be.
            This morning I spent the time in the raised bed around the trellises.  With a wetter summer than we have had in years, the weeds grow more thickly than the grass and flowers.  I weed one bed, and the next week it looks like I haven’t touched it in a month.  So I went around pulling out grass sprigs, dollarweed, castor beans, and half a dozen oak trees.
            You read that right—oak trees.  I am not Mrs. Paul Bunyan—none of those discarded oak trees were over 6 inches tall.  Some of them even had the acorn still attached to the roots when I pulled it out of the ground.  It was easy.  One quick rip and up they came.  Pulling up trees is simple when you get them at six inches.  Even waiting till they are a foot tall makes a significant difference in how difficult it is to uproot them.
            Yet isn’t that what we do in our lives?  We wait till the soap scum is flaky gray and a quarter inch thick before we get out the scrub brush, when a two minute wipe each week would save us twenty minutes of elbow grease every month.  We wait till the fat rolls over our waistbands, when losing five pounds every six months would save us the agony of an 800 calorie a day diet for a year to lose thirty.  We wait till our lives are falling apart, when realigning ourselves a quarter inch every day would have kept the Devil at bay.
            Isn’t it time to wise up a little?  Isn’t it time to do a little work to save the pain that results from neglect? 
            Have a conversation with God every day, throughout the day, while you wash those dishes or walk the dog or trim the hedges.  When something serious arises and you really need the help, you won’t have to wonder if He’ll be there for you or if He gave up on you long ago.  (He does do that, you know, give up on people, Jer 11:11; 14:12; Ezek 8:18; Mic 3:4; Zech 7:13, etc.).
            Start reading your Bible now, a little every day, adding some serious and diligent study as you go along, learning some good study techniques from those who know them and want so badly to share.  Then when your neighbor asks you a question, you just might be able to answer him, instead of standing there like a fool, red with embarrassment.
            Begin working on those problems you have, the ones that nag you day after day.  Make a plan and begin to weed the sin out of your life like a six inch oak tree.  If it becomes the behemoth that stands over your house, you will never get rid of it, but the Devil will be more than happy to take advantage of the shade.
 
…looking carefully lest there be any man that fall short of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you, and thereby the many be defiled; Hebrews 12:15.
 
Dene Ward

I don't know what we would have done without a garden when we were raising our boys.  Some of it went in the freezer—blueberries, strawberries, tomato sauce, corn, pole beans, white acre peas, blackeyes, and limas—but quite a bit filled the shelves of the back pantry in those clear sturdy Mason jars: two kinds of cucumber pickles, squash pickles, okra pickles, pickled banana peppers, pickled jalapenos, tomatoes, salsa, ketchup, tomato jam, strawberry jam, pepper jelly, pear preserves, muscadine juice, and muscadine jelly.
            The first time I ever canned I was scared to death.  First, the pressure canner scared me.  I had heard too many stories of blown up pots and collard greens hanging from the ceiling like the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, but once I had used it a few times without incident, and really understood how it worked, that fear left me. 
            I may be an old hand at the pressure canner these days, but I still follow the rules.  If I don't, it will blow up.  No amount of sincerity on my part will keep that from happening if I let the pressure get too high. 
            I also follow the sterilization rules and the rules about how much pressure for how long and how much acidity is required for steam canning.  Botulism, a food poisoning caused by foods that have been improperly canned, is a particularly dangerous disease.  Symptoms include severe abdominal pain, vomiting, blurred vision, muscle weakness and eventual paralysis.  You’d better believe I carefully follow all the rules for home canning.  I give away a lot of my pickles and jams.  Not only do I not want botulism, I certainly don’t want to give it to anyone else either.
            Some folks chafe at rules.  Maybe that’s why they don’t follow God’s rules.  They want to take the Bible and pick and choose what suits them.  “Authority?” they scoff.  “Overrated and totally unnecessary.”  Authority does matter and a lot of people in the Bible found out the hard way.  Whatever you do in word or in deed, do all in the name of {by the authority of} the Lord Jesus…Col 3:17.  You might pay special attention to the context of that verse too.
            God’s people were warned over and over to follow His rules, to, in fact, be careful to follow His rules, Deut 5:1.  I counted 31 times in the Pentateuch alone.  Not following those rules resulted in death for many and captivity for others.  When Ezra and Nehemiah brought the remnant back to Jerusalem, once again they were warned, at least five times in those two short books.  Maybe suffering the consequences of doing otherwise made the need for so much repetition a little less.
            David had a way of looking at God’s rules that we need to consider.  For I have kept the ways of the Lord, and have not wickedly departed from my God.  For all his rules were before me, and from his statutes I did not turn aside, 2 Sam 22:22,23. Many of David’s psalms talk about God’s rules, but the 119th mentions them 17 times.  David calls those rules good, helpful, comforting, righteous, praiseworthy, enduring, hope-inducing, true, and life-giving.  How can anyone chafe at something so wonderful?
            People simply don’t want rules, especially with God.  God is supposed to be loving and kind and accept me as I am.  No.  God knows that the way we are will only bring death.  We must follow the rules in order to live.  We must love the rules every bit as much as David did.  I will praise you with an upright heart when I learn your righteous rules…My soul is consumed with longing for your rules at all times…When I think of your rules from of old, I take comfort, O Lord…Great is your mercy O Lord, give me life according to your rules, 119:7, 20, 52, 156.
            I get out my canning guide and faithfully follow the rules every summer.  I never just guess at it; I never say, “That’s close enough.”  I know if I don’t follow those rules someone could die, maybe me or one of my good friends or one of my precious children or grandchildren.  I bet there is something in your life with rules just as important that you follow faithfully.  Why then, are we so careless with the most important rules we have ever been given?
 
For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome, 1 John 5:3.
 
Dene Ward
 

I don’t really know that much about plants.  I have killed my fair share of them, especially houseplants, but I salve my ego with the notion that it might be because the house is so dark.  In Florida, living under huge live oaks is good for the electric bill, not so good for anything inside that needs a sunny window.
            I have learned the hard way what to do and what not to do.  Living in zone 9 means you make more mistakes than most about what will grow and what won’t.  It never dawned on me that there was such a thing as too warm a climate until the first time I planted tulip bulbs.  All those lovely spring flowers will never make it here without a lot of extra work, like digging them up and putting them in the freezer for awhile, and even then you can’t count on it.
            We lived in South Carolina for three years and I could actually grow irises.  The first time I ordered them, I was stunned when they arrived—a bare hunk of root in a plastic bag.  Surely it was dead by now, I thought.  That was how I learned about rhizomes. 
            Rhizomes are not ordinary roots, long and hairlike, growing out of the bottom of a stem.  They aren’t bulbs either.  They are long pieces of thick rootstock, sometimes called underground stems, which run horizontally under the plant, sending out numerous roots and even leaf buds from its upper surface.  That horizontal orientation also aids in propagation, as the roots spread underground and form more rhizomes from which more plants grow the next season.
            Now think about that as you read this passage:  Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving, Colossians 2:6-7.  That word “rooted” is the Greek word rhizoomai.  I am not a Greek scholar but it doesn’t take one to see the connection between that word and “rhizome.”  I am told that its figurative meaning is “to become stable.”
            It isn’t just that we are rooted downward in the faith with tiny hairlike roots.  Our faith is based in something that is strong, that can even withstand the rigors of being out of its milieu for awhile (like rootstock shipped in a plastic bag), that spreads out to others on a regular basis, and eventually grows into a whole support system.  Try to pull up an ordinary plant and you can usually do so without too much trouble.  Try to pull up a rhizome-based plant and you have to work at it awhile, in fact you may uproot half your yard trying to do so and still never get it all.
            That sort of root takes awhile to develop.  It doesn’t happen overnight or without effort, and it won’t happen that way with you either.  You must work at it, but once you have, you will be far stronger than you ever imagined. 
            You have to be connected to your brethren too, you can’t just “be a Christian,” one completely divorced from the Lord’s family, and think you will ever have that same sort of strength.  Rhizomes reach out, and so must we.  The only other choice is a fragile little root system that will die if it is uprooted for very long at all.
            Build up…your most holy faith, Jude says, v 20, but build it down as well, rooting yourself with a strong rootstock that will not waver, despite the trials of life and the persecutions of the enemy.  Develop a rhizome and, in the words of Peter who told us how to supplement our faith, “you shall never fall” (2 Pet 1:5-10).
 
 And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him, if indeed you continue in the faith, grounded and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed in all creation under heaven…Colossians 1:21-23.
 
Dene Ward

Keith loves tomatoes, which accounts for the fact that we have 95 tomato plants in our garden.  In the summer, his supper is not complete without a heaping platter of sliced tomatoes, assorted colors and varieties—Better Boy, Celebrity, Big Beef, Golden Girl, Golden Jubilee, Cherokee Purple—all full sized, some even the one-slicers:  large enough for one slice to cover a piece of bread. 
            So when the first tomato ripened this year and he let me have the whole thing to myself everyone was amazed.  “What a generous husband!” some exclaimed.  Then I told them the rest of the story.  It was a Sungold Cherry tomato, more like a grape tomato, less than an inch in diameter.
            “What a generous husband!” they again exclaimed, with a slightly different inflection on the “generous.”
            It was a joke and everyone knew it, including Keith.  How sad that so many do not see the joke when it’s the tomato they’ve been offered.
            Do you want wealth and fame?  Here, have the whole tomato.
            Do you want career, status and power?  Here, enjoy this, it’s all yours.
            Do you want pleasure of every kind, fun, and excitement?  Here, it’s ripe and ready and yours for the taking.  Eat every bite.
            Isn’t life wonderful?  Isn’t the world an amazing place?  Isn’t the ruler of this world the most generous being there is?  Don’t bet on it. 
            Look at the size of that tomato again.  Now look at what you lose when you accept it:  family, love, redemption, hope, your soul.  My, how generous that offer was—one measly little bite that is gone in an instant for the price of everything eternal.
            That tomato may taste pretty good.  It may be the best one that ever grew in any garden anywhere.  But I’d rather take my Father’s offer—He has a whole garden to give me.
 
And he showed me a river of water of life, bright as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb, in the midst of the street thereof. And on this side of the river and on that was the tree of life, bearing twelve manner of fruits, yielding its fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. And there shall be no curse any more: and the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be therein: and his servants shall serve him; and they shall see his face; and his name shall be on their foreheads. And there shall be night no more; and they need no light of lamp, neither light of sun; for the Lord God shall give them light: and they shall reign for ever and ever, Revelation 22:1-5.
 
For what shall a man be profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and forfeit his life? or what shall a man give in exchange for his life? Matthew 16:26.
 
Dene Ward