It happens every year, April and August, that's when the snakes start moving.  In April, I am not sure if they are newly hatched and out to find their own territory, or if the warmer weather just has them moving again after the cold-blooded lethargy of winter.  In August, maybe they are looking for a hole to stay warm in during the upcoming winter.  Whatever the reason, that's when we see the most snakes around here, April and August, which my boys and I began calling "the A months" after we noticed the phenomenon many years ago.
              Yesterday I went out to fill the bird feeders.  I had walked right past them half a dozen times as I circled the property with Chloe and had no reason to suspect anything.  As soon as I stepped in the fallen seed directly beneath the feeder closest to the house, something moved.  I had seen absolutely nothing until then.  But crawling away from me as quickly as it could was a juvenile Something Snake.  It took a minute to register that it had a diamond pattern on its back and its head was wider than its neck.  By then it had found shelter at the base of an azalea, amid several two inch diameter limbs that formed a nice little hidey-hole. 
              I dropped my bucket of seed and ran around the house to where Keith was blowing leaves (a spring event in our area).  Even without his hearing aids, he knew the look and the run and came back with me.  With our own version of sign language I explained, and we were both almost certain we were talking about a rattler, one so small (18-20 inches) that it had no rattles yet.  He had picked up a two by two and sent me in for the .22 rifle and ratshot.  As he stomped around the bushes, I stood out from them with rifle cocked and ready.  Ask my boys—with a gun I am death on snakes.  Nothing came crawling out of the limbs or leaves, so he picked up his blower, a heavy-duty gasoline model that would make a small snake feel like it had been in a category 5 hurricane, and we went at it again.  Still no snake, so we were sure it had crawled away while I had run off looking for help.
              After lunch (dinner in the rural South) we were out to finish up the interrupted feeding.  As soon as Keith stepped up to that same spot of fallen seed under the feeder, another snake took off.  Both of us jumped back, but it was only a garter snake this time, bigger, but not dangerous, and helpful with rodent control.  We were instantly reminded about "the A months."  Neither one of us had seen either snake despite looking right at the ground.  God gave these creatures camouflage and it certainly works.  But today as I made my rounds, my eyes never left the ground.  My ears stayed open for scaly slithers through the leaves and warning rattles.  I may think I am on guard constantly, but now I am on guard in a much more careful way than before.
              We need to beware of "the A months" in our lives.  We have already been bitten by the Snake, but he is still out there waiting to pump even more venom into our hearts at every opportunity.  So what are our "A months?"  Maybe it's one of those days when the traffic is particularly bad, you have a flat tire, and then spill coffee on yourself before you even get to work at a job where the boss is imperious and your colleagues unfriendly.  Maybe it's an illness that has you ready to nurture your grouchiness instead of trying to put it aside.  Or maybe the kids are especially loud while you are dealing with a headache and an air conditioner that's on the blink in mid-July.  Whatever it is, be aware.  Don't let the snake hiding in the grass get hold of you.  Carry a two by two or even a rifle.  Do whatever you must to avoid the danger. 
              We wish we had managed to find that baby rattler.  I am happy that he left our yard, but he is still out there in the nearby woods where he can find a mate and make even more of them.  The more times you beat the devil, the more times he will leave you alone, at least for a while, but if you let him win, he will come back the more often.
              It's an "A month" out there—for the rest of your life.  Be careful.
 
Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you…  (Jas 4:7-8).
 
Dene Ward

On April 9, 1939, African-American contralto Marian Anderson stood before a mixed race audience of 75,000 on the National Mall and sang a concert.  She had been banned by the Daughters of the American Revolution from singing that program in Constitution Hall, which they owned, when she was invited to sing there in a concert series for Howard University.  First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt was outraged and resigned her own membership in that group.
              NAACP executive secretary suggested the Mall, and because it is a national monument, Secretary of the Interior, Harold Ickes, did the planning and arranging.  The crowd stretched from the Lincoln Memorial to the Washington Monument.  Even though she could, and did, sing many Italian arias from the operas she sang across Europe, Miss Anderson's first song was "My Country Tis of Thee."  One wonders if the irony shook the ground as she sang the lyrics, "Let freedom ring."
              To Americans, liberty is almost a sacred word.  As Christians, we, too, have liberty, but we seem to have misplaced the emphasis.  Most of the verses that proclaim our freedoms are talking about freedom from sin and the liberty we have in Jesus.  What we often want to proclaim instead is the liberties to do certain right things no matter the consequences.  Can we just point out today that it is possible to do right things and still be wrong?
              Right things can become wrong when they are given too high a priority for their actual level of importance.  There are many things that are right to do, but when they keep us from doing things more necessary, when they allow us to excuse ourselves from duties God has given us, they become wrong.  When we use our work, for example, to excuse our serving, that right thing—making a living and providing for our families—has become wrong.
              Right things can become wrong when they are done from the wrong motivation.  How many times have you thought of "doing good to your enemies" as the ultimate revenge instead of the correct attitude of heart for a disciple of Christ?  But God commends his own love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. (Rom 5:8).
              Right things can become wrong when they will leave an obviously wrong impression.  This one can be abused by petty tyrants who want to micromanage everyone else's life according to their sensibilities, but when the babes (not the wolves) are involved, we must bend over backwards.  …but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all.  (Rom 12:17).
              Right things can become wrong when they cause others to sin.  Don't use that word "offend" because you will miss the point.  This isn't about someone who considers himself a strong Christian not liking what you are doing.  This is a babe who does not have the knowledge that he needs to understand difficult distinctions.  But take heed lest by any means this liberty of yours become a stumblingblock to the weak.  (1Cor 8:9).
              Right things can become wrong when they come between me and my service to God.  It is good to care for your physical temple.  It is not good to spend more time on that than you spend on serving God, or when something like obsessive dieting keeps you from spending time with brethren or fulfilling the sacred duty of hospitality.
              While the world may consider a Christian's life to be a life of chains, they do not understand the true liberties we have in Christ.  We are no longer in bondage to sin and Satan and the corruption of this world.  We can control ourselves and are not "mastered by anything."  But we must always remember to use those liberties wisely and compassionately, with tender regard to the weak and those we are trying to reach.  To do otherwise is to make a mockery of our freedom.
 
But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life. For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.  (Rom 6:22-23).
 
Dene Ward

While I was teaching music I was a member of several professional organizations.  My favorite was the local group which met seven times a year in members’ homes for business, some high-spirited performances, and a potluck lunch.  Once we met in a house just off the highway, down a lime rock road.  In the middle of the meeting, a rain came up—not just any rain, but one we around here call a “toad strangler,” several inches in less than an hour—they happen all the time in Florida. 
            The rain had stopped when it was time to leave and we took off down the dirt road shortcut in a caravan of cars headed to our various studios to meet the students for the day.  Suddenly, the cars ahead of me came to a halt, and ladies started climbing out, gathering together and peering up ahead.  I turned off the engine and joined the milling crowd at the head of the line. 
            Water had run across the road.  It had not cut a deep rut, and in fact, was a nice shallow-looking, easily fordable stream, but we had all lived in the country long enough to know you don’t just drive through water running across an unpaved road.  “Someone needs to walk out there and check the road,” was the consensus. 
            Have I mentioned that at 35 I was the youngest in the group by about thirty years?  Instantly, all heads turned toward me.  Having been silently elected, I slipped off my shoes and started across the newly created waterway.  I took five firm steps only to have to grab my skirt and hike it up over my knees as I sank exactly that deep on the sixth.  Instantly I had visions of those jungle movies I used to watch on Saturday afternoons as a kid, where the first one in the safari line sinks in the quicksand because, in spite of everyone telling him to be still, he wiggles and squirms and sinks before anyone can even think to cut a vine and use it to pull him out—or if some bright fellow does think of it, twenty people on the other end cannot out-pull the suction of a big mud puddle.. 
            A good minute later it dawned on me that my name was being called, and I still had not sunk any farther.  My feet had found a solid layer of hardpan about two feet below the surface so Tarzan swinging to the rescue was totally unnecessary.  I made my way back to the group with the most unladylike thwock, thwock, thwock noises as the suction released with each step.  We all carefully backed our cars down the one lane road, turned around in the driveway from where we had started and went the long way home, down the paved state highway.
            Hopelessness in the scriptures is often pictured as “sinking.”  Jeremiah prophesies that Babylon will sink and shall not rise again because of the evil I will bring upon her, 51:64.  Amos warns Israel that they are in for the same punishment: they shall sink again like the River of Egypt, 8:8; 9:5.  And all because of sin.  Even Peter, when he tried to walk on water, began to sink because of little faith and doubt, Matt 14:31.  And truly, just like sinking in the quicksand (at least in the old grade B movies), there is nothing we can do but hope a savior happens along.  Praise God, he has!
            The Psalmist pleads in 22:8 Commit yourself to Jehovah, let him deliver you; let him rescue you, seeing he delights in you.  In spite of the fact that, like an ignorant city slicker, we walked out into that mud on purpose, in spite of the fact that we ignored warning after warning, and kept right on wiggling and squirming, and even when we have been pulled out before, but keep stepping right back into the same pool of quicksand, Jesus is ready to hold out a hand and save us. 
 
Deliver me out of the mire and let me not sink… Let not the waterflood overwhelm me and swallow me up…Answer me, oh Jehovah, for your lovingkindness is good.  According to the multitude of your tender mercies, turn to me; and hide not your face from your servant, for I am in distress; answer me quickly. Psa 69:14-17
 
Dene Ward

Sweetest note in seraph song,
Sweetest name on mortal tongue.
 
            Do you know what a seraph is?  I bet you have heard the word “seraphim” before and know it is a kind of angel.  But even that is not quite right.
            In English we form plurals in several different ways:  “s,” “es”, “ies”, plus those plurals that are Latin derivatives where “is” becomes “es” (analysis/analyses), “um” becomes “a” (memorandum/memoranda), and “us” becomes “i” (cactus/cacti). 
            One way to form a plural in Hebrew is to add “im.”  So there is one seraph and more than one seraphim, one cherub and more than one cherubim.  A “seraph” song is a song a seraph, or several seraphim, might sing.
            We don’t really know a whole lot about angelic beings.  I can tell you one thing, though:  they don’t look like chubby little naked flying babies with wings shooting bows and arrows!
            The only word picture I could find of seraphim is of those around the throne of God in Isaiah’s vision of chapter 6.  They are anything but “cute.”  Those seraphim had six wings.  When they spoke the threshold of the Temple shook and smoke filled the rooms.  Those creatures could hold live coals in their hands.  John said the angels around God’s throne were “mighty,” Rev 5:2.  I do not know if those were seraphim or not, but they stood in the same place as Isaiah’s seraphim. 
            As to angels singing about Jesus, is that scriptural?
            And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!” Luke 2:13,14.
            Then I looked, and I heard around the throne and the living creatures and the elders the voice of many angels, numbering myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” Rev 5:11,12.  Earlier, in verse 9, John calls what they were doing “singing.”
            So from his birth to his ascension and afterward the angels sang about Jesus.  Seraphim, cherubim, archangels, whatever--I doubt any refused, do you?
            But here is the point of the song:  what our Savior did for us is so glorious, so marvelous, so gracious and good that everyone should be singing his praises, whether “seraph” or “mortal.”
            It is sad that our books do not contain the following verse to this song:
 
            And when to that bright world above
            We rise to be with Jesus,
            We’ll sing around the throne of love,
            His Name—the Name of Jesus.
 
Isn’t it an appropriate idea that where the seraphim stand guard over the throne of God, singing, we will also stand, singing praise to the Great Physician?
 
After these things I saw, and behold, a great multitude, which no man could number, out of every nation and of [all] tribes and peoples and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, arrayed in white robes, and palms in their hands; and they cry with a great voice, saying, Salvation unto our God who sitteth on the throne, and unto the Lamb. And all the angels were standing round about the throne, and [about] the elders and the four living creatures; and they fell before the throne on their faces, and worshipped God, saying, Amen: Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honor, and power, and might, [be] unto our God for ever and ever. Amen. Rev 7:9-12.
 
Dene Ward

Every age has its own characteristics. Right now we are in an age of religious complexity. The simplicity which is in Christ is rarely found among us. In its stead are programs, methods, organizations and a world of nervous activities which occupy time and attention but can never satisfy the longing of the heart. The shallowness of our inner experience, the hollowness of our worship, and the servile imitation of the world which marks our promotional methods all testify that we, in this day, know God only imperfectly, and the peace of God scarcely at all.

A.W. Tozer, THE PURSUIT OF GOD, 1948

Baseball in America was first played as an official game in 1846, but uniforms were not worn by the teams until the New York Knickerbockers did so on April 4, 1849.  It took fifty more years for all Major League baseball players to wear official team uniforms.  Today nearly all sports players wear official team apparel.
              Uniforms have several purposes.  First, it helps to be able to identify at a glance who your teammates are.  If the quarterback threw to the wrong receiver, or the point guard passed to the wrong center, chaos would ensue.
              Second, everyone wearing the same colors helps develop unity, and motivates the players to do their best for one another.  It also fosters a sense of equality.  Everyone wears the uniform, not just the star players.
              For a couple of years now I have seen some college football teams wearing odd uniforms splotched with camouflage here and there, and with “names” like Honor, Courage, Integrity, Commitment, Service, and Duty sewn on the back where ordinarily the player’s name would have been.  I have discovered that this is a joint effort with the Wounded Warriors Project, a nonprofit organization supplying programs and services to injured servicemen and their families.  After the game, the uniforms are auctioned off and 100% of the proceeds go to the project.
              What a worthy endeavor, yet wearing those uniforms has caused some amusement among sportscasters.  At least twice I have seen “Integrity” commit a personal foul, and don’t believe for a minute that the announcers ignored all the possible jokes they could make about it.
              That made me wonder what would happen if Christians wore uniforms.  As much as I hate the way we take those lists we find in the New Testament (fruit of the Spirit, Christian “graces,” etc.) ignoring them as a comprehensive unit, and using them instead like individual casseroles on a buffet line from which we can pick and choose, what if one of those traits were printed on the backs of our jerseys?  Would people find our actions so amusing?  If “self-control” became angry and threw something across the room, if “mercy” gave as good (or as bad?) as he got, if “kindness” snarled at someone in his way, how would that effect the way others view the faith we so casually claim?
              Wait a minute!  This might actually be good for us.  If each one of us had the trait we have the most difficulty with posted on our backs, maybe we would be aware every minute of the day and actually behave a little better.  For you see, that is the problem with most of us.  We go through our lives without thinking; we just react, and that is when the “automatic” happens instead of the new characteristic we are supposed to be developing.  If we wore that jersey every day for a month, don’t you suppose “automatic” would become the right thing instead of the wrong thing?
              So today, think what needs to be written on your back—not the thing you find easiest, but the thing you find the hardest to do, and pretend it is there every minute of the day.  You see, your friends and neighbors are not ignorant of the personality a Christian is supposed to exhibit, and they know where you fall short.  They see that very word on your back every moment and it is what they use as an excuse when you try to recruit them.  Why would they want to be on a team where Integrity cheats on his taxes, where Commitment ogles the women in the office, and where Service never did a thing for anyone if it didn’t offer him a good return?
              Put on your uniform every day.  Remember what is written on your back, and do your best to live up to it.
 
Do all things without grumbling or questioning, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, Phil 2:14,15.
 
Dene Ward

When our boys were small, on summer days when a soft, warm rain fell, they often asked if they could go outside and play in it.  I was reminded of those sweet days last spring when our grandson Silas did the same thing. 
              He put on his swimming trunks and headed outside, first just running a few steps out, then racing back in under the carport.  Gradually he ran further and further, eventually out to the old water oak stump some thirty feet from the house, stood there a minute hopping up and down, holding his arms out to present the most skin to the sky, and laughing uproariously. 
              He must have gone at it for ten minutes, running back to the carport and excitedly jabbering, “It’s wet!  It’s cold!  It’s fun!” then running back out into the rain even further, eventually to the swing hanging from the live oak limb out past the well.     
              But it was still spring and his little chin began to quiver, and all too soon we had to take him in and dry him off.
              Do you know what started all this?  Pure, unadulterated joy.  He and his little brother had been with us for five days while Mommy and Daddy were out of town, and although we had a great time, when they drove up that afternoon, it was clear who were most important in his young life.  They were back and before long they would take him in his own car seat in his own “blue car” to his own home and his own room where he could sleep in his own bed.  I know the feeling.
              But life may have made me forget that feeling of pure joy. 
              Despite the troubles of life we always have real reason for joy, and God expects us to show it.  David had that joy, and he expressed it before the people of Israel as they brought the Ark of the Covenant to his newly captured capital city. But he was married to someone who didn’t have it, and who did not understand.  She scolded him and received this reply:
              [It was] before Jehovah, who chose me above your father, and above all his house, to appoint me prince over the people of Jehovah, over Israel: therefore will I play before Jehovah, 2 Sam 6:21.
              .Do you see the word “play?”  David was out there “leaping and dancing before Jehovah.”  That’s how he was playing.  That Hebrew word is found in Job 40:20, “the beasts play in the field.”  You will find it in Prov 8:30 and 31 where it is translated “rejoicing,” and in Job 5:12 where it is “laugh.”  The same attitude that had Silas laughing and playing in the rain had David playing before Jehovah--joy.               
              When was the last time you felt that way about God and your relationship with Him?  I think we are a little like Michal—too embarrassed to act like God means that much to us.  We are too conscious of ourselves and how we look, and far too worried about what other people think.
              If I am too embarrassed to show the Lord how much He means to me, I wonder, on the day He comes to pick us up and take us home, if He might be too embarrassed to act like we mean that much to Him.
 
Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, I Pet 1:8.
 
Dene Ward

So I would have younger widows marry, bear children, manage their households, and give the adversary no occasion for slander. (1Tim 5:14).
 
              With so many of us confined to home these days, now might be the perfect time to discuss what it means to "manage" the home.  I fear we have let the world tell us that being an organized, hardworking, guardian/teacher of one's home and children isn't anything to be proud of—we must have something "fulfilling" to do with our lives.  One of the ways we perpetuate the myth of a soap opera addicted, bonbon munching idler is by a slapdash effort and constant complaining about the tedium of it all, finding every excuse to sleep late and post on Facebook forty times a day.  Let's see what we can do to change that. 
              When we become stay-at-home moms, and later, stay-at-home workers/servants in the kingdom, our husbands are treating us as managers of the shop, so to speak.  He leaves every day to work in another venue and expects that the home and family he has entrusted into our care will be run economically—within the living he brings home—and efficiently.  It is up to us to know who needs to be where and when and get them there—doctor's appointments, school functions, recitals, etc.—in clean, appropriate clothing.  It is up to us to keep track of the supplies everyone in the house depends on—toothpaste, deodorant, toilet paper (a little tricky these days), ibuprofen, bandaids, etc.  And it is up to us to fill those needs as thriftily as possible. 
             We are now in a time when jobs have disappeared or hours been cut, when some groceries have become hard-to-find, and prices accordingly higher.  How we manage the home matters more than ever before—at least more than it ever has for most young people.  They never had a Great Depression to learn in.  I hope this post today will help you out, and you won't mind it being a bit long—or a lot long, actually.
              I am sure most of these things have been listed elsewhere on the internet.  You can probably find more exhaustive lists, and other ideas of accomplishing the same things.  These suggestions—and that's all they are—are just to help you begin thinking on your own, to supply a little inspiration as you deal with your own family's particular needs.  We have been through several personal economic depressions, and this is how we got through them.
              As the manager of my home, I spend a good two hours every week going through sales flyers, cutting coupons (sometimes digitally these days), planning menus based on those sales, and making a shopping list.  As for coupons, I do not buy anything I won't eventually need.  I prefer to use a coupon when something is on sale so I get a double whammy.  I go to town ONCE, so as not to waste gas, and get everything done in one day.  I used to do that with babies in tow, too.  I keep my lists on one of those postage paid envelopes people are always sending you in the junk mail, with the appropriate coupons inside, along with things like dry cleaners receipts and bank deposit slips.  As I make every stop, any new receipt goes inside the envelope so everything is together when I get it home.
              As for cost saving tricks, do not think in terms of disposables any more than you can help it.  One bottle of dish detergent will wash a hundred times more plates, cups, and bowls for the money than the same dollar amount will buy paper goods. I am sure the same is true of dishwasher soap, but I don't have a dishwasher.
          Save plastic bags, especially freezer bags which are thicker and tougher.  Wash them out and dry them, which usually means to hang them somewhere.  (Sometimes my kitchen looks like a laundry room.)  Fabric softener sheets can be used more than once, in fact, until they get flimsy and crumpled. 
           Take all those singleton socks that have been bereaved of their mates by the sock-eating washer, slip them on your hand and dust to your heart's content.  Then throw that one in the washer.  Who knows?  It might even find its missing mate that way, or join it in the great Sock Beyond. 
           You know that bottle that says, "Shampoo.  Rinse, and Repeat?"  You don't have to repeat!  Just make sure your hair is really wet the first time and you will have plenty of lather to wash it with.  Especially if you are one of those people who wash their hair nearly every time they shower, you do not need to repeat.  It's just a waste of shampoo.  But I am sure these are things you have heard again and again as thrifty homemakers have been doing them for decades.
              Now to practice a little self-discipline.  When you have been able to buy whatever you want for most of your life, it may come as a shock that you can't do that any longer.  But here is your new rule:  if you can't afford it, you can't have it.  Sometimes credit cards make us think otherwise.  Learn this now.  If you no longer have the money, you have to stop the buying one way or the other.  For some people it takes cutting up the credit card to get the point.  Do what you need to do.
             Tap water will hydrate you.  That's all we had when we were kids.  None of us died.  Get rid of the sodas.  Period.  Eventually, we reached the salary point that my boys could have Kool-Aid.  I did not have the luxury of avoiding sugar—the alternatives, like fruit juices, were simply too expensive.  When my mother was growing up during the Depression, even sweet tea was for Sundays only.  Every other day of the week, the family had tap water with their meals.  She lived to be 91, and her mother 97.  See?  It won't kill you!
              Get rid of the snacks.  All mine had were homemade cookies, which were a fraction of the cost of Chips Ahoy or Oreos, and the boys thought they were better off than their friends.  This, and some of what I add below, may mean your family needs a major attitude adjustment.  I remember my mother telling me how Daddy turned up his nose and complained when she put oleo on the table.  He made $30 a week and she had a $10/wk. grocery budget.  She took him shopping with her.  When he saw the price of real butter, he changed his tune.  Sometimes you have to make do, and the Lord expects us to be grateful for the fact that we have what we need to survive.  He will NOT be happy with the ungrateful who demand luxuries.
              We might very well have to change our minds about what we will and won't eat.  Organic, cage-free eggs cost over twice as much as regular eggs.  If you don't have celiac disease, you might want to forego your gluten-free diet.  Those things are always far more expensive than the usual varieties.  It costs extra money for most of these fad diets. 
              Save oil you have fried in, and all bacon grease.  (If you are a true Southerner, that last should go without saying.)  I actually had a small stovetop percolator for years into which I poured used oil.  The grounds basket sieved out the impurities and pieces of leftover fried food, and all it takes is a tablespoon or so of fresh oil to refresh the used.  I have had the same old coffee can, back when you could still get metal ones, for bacon grease that I had when the boys were growing up.  What do I use the drippings for?  Seasoning Southern vegetables, greasing a biscuit pan, making cornbread, frying eggs or potatoes, or anything else that might benefit from bacon flavor.
             If you use a lot of canned goods (vegetables, I mean) keep any drained off liquid in a glass jar in the fridge to use as broth when you make soup.  Just add to it all week.  I usually made soup at least once a week because I always had a good quart of makeshift broth by then.  Potato soup, French onion soup, tomato soup, root vegetable bisque, plain old vegetable soup—none of these contain meat and all are made with relatively inexpensive items.
            There are any number of meatless meals, or meals where the meat can be skimped on.  Usually these meals are heavy on the starch (carbs), but that's what fills people up.  You yourself may need to cut back (diabetics, for example), but if you have teenage boys as I did, you will want to keep them satisfied and starch does the trick.  Beans and rice are the ultimate example.  Red beans and rice, black beans and rice—same dish, different spices and seasoning.  True Cuban black beans and rice contains no meat whatsoever.  If your recipe does for either of those dishes, cut the amount in half, or consider using a bone.  (Save all of your bones, by the way to make stock or to season soups and vegetables.)  And cut the meat into smaller pieces so more mouthfuls will have meat in them.  Then there are pinto beans and cornbread, Great Northern beans and cornbread, dried baby limas and cornbread, and on and on we go.  Lentil soup is basically a bean dish.  Pasta fagioli is an Italian soup with very little but white beans and pasta in it, and it is delicious.
             Eggs are another standby.  You can make omelets with whatever bits and pieces of leftovers you have—a few ham cubes, a shred or two of cheese, some chopped peppers and onions, etc.  Do not throw any bits and pieces of anything away! 
             Pasta with Eggs and Cheese is quick, easy, and cheap.  Boil a pound of spaghetti in heavily salted water.  Beat together three eggs and 2/3 cup of shredded Pecorino Romano or Parmagiana Reggianno cheese (pecorino is cheaper).  Drain the spaghetti and while it is still hot, pour the eggs and cheese over it and toss constantly, allowing the heat of the pasta to cook the eggs, until every strand is coated with cooked egg and melted cheese.  If you want it creamier, add ¼-1/2 cup of the pasta water (or milk if you want to splurge).  Some people add a couple tablespoons of butter, but we never did and it was just fine.
            Pancakes and waffles will also fill the bill—cheap and satisfying.  Biscuits and gravy are a favorite for many.  We couldn't afford the sausage, but even cream gravy made with milk, flour, and plenty of bacon grease was wonderful over hot biscuits.  When I was a child, my mother would sometimes make a huge pan of biscuits and then pull out everything she could find in the fridge and pantry to go on them—butter, jam, preserves, peanut butter, honey, maple syrup.  We kids loved it.  We had no idea that the money had run out that week—we thought it was a treat!
               I never pay full price for meat, but always buy it on sale, plus one thing extra to freeze.  As the weeks go by, you will find yourself needing to buy less meat at the time.  A couple of paragraphs ago I talked about cutting the meat in half for your bean dishes.  Do it for everything.  For chicken breasts, lay your hand on top of the breast, and cut horizontally beneath your hand.  Every breast will make two servings, and your eye will be fooled into thinking it is a whole breast.  Do the same with boneless pork chops.  If they have been frozen, do the slicing while they are still a little firm in the center and it will be easier to control the knife and keep the slice even. 
             Then there is the tale of the three night whole chicken, something I did again and again so long ago a chicken could be found for 19 cents a pound, and even then it was almost more than we could afford.
              Take the breasts and do the trick above, cutting them in half horizontally.  That is your splurge meal, assuming there are no more than four in your family.  Bread and fry, or oven fry, or grill, or use in any other recipe, including something a little nicer, like Chicken Milanese.  The second night use the thighs and drumsticks for a potpie or other chicken casserole your family likes.  Double up on any vegetables or starch the recipe contains.  Who knows?  That one might even last you two nights if you do it right. 
              On the last night, use the back and wings to make the broth for chicken and dumplings.  In the Deep South and parts of Appalachia, our dumplings are called "slicks" or "slickers."  A dough of flour, eggs, butter, salt, and some of the broth is rolled out flat on a heavily floured board and cut into strips about two inches long.  Because of the eggs in them, when they are boiled, they become fairly thick and all that flour you rolled them in will help thicken the broth, especially if you have cooled and then reheated them.  What you will have is more like dumplings and chicken rather than chicken and dumplings, but that's the point here—how to get by on a shoestring budget.  Chicken and rice is another good option.  Just use the same philosophy—less meat, lots of starch. 
              This is how the world survived during the Depression and we can do the same.  I am sure this is far more information than you actually need.  You are smart enough to see the pattern and implement it in ways that meet your families' needs and tastes. 
             We have much to be grateful for.  This is a time to learn some lessons our culture has sorely needed to revisit for a few decades now.  We will get through this because our God is in control, and He expects us to be good stewards of the blessings He has showered upon us.
 
Moreover, it is required of stewards that they be found faithful.  (1Cor 4:2).
 
Dene Ward