My daylilies have been on a roller coaster ride lately.  They bloomed so prodigiously, and multiplied so quickly that ten years ago I had to dig them up from their bed by the grape arbor and replant them thinner, planting another bed behind the shed with some of the extras, and still giving away three five-gallon bucketfuls of bulbs.  They bloomed like crazy again, multiplying year by year, until once again they needed thinning.  

A few years ago, Keith had to do it for me--after a summer of eye surgeries I was relegated to supervising from a lawn chair.  But since then, few have come up and fewer have bloomed.  Perhaps we mulched them too well, Keith thought, so he raked off half the mulch this past year to see what would happen.  More blooms is what happened, and things seem better.  Next year should be another banner year of bright yellow and orange blooms.

I have noticed another thing about these lilies.  Even with mulch, the weeds still manage to creep in.  The first year I pulled grass till my hands were sore and swollen.  Blackberry thorns left them torn and bleeding, even through gloves.  The next year I did it again.  The third year things were better—most of the weeds were along the edge.  By the fourth year two weedings, one at the beginning of the year, and another near the end, took care of it.

Some day, I would like to think that the weeding won’t be necessary at all, but I live in a land of rain and sunshine, warmth even in winter, and humidity that keeps the plants green and moist.  Still, it is encouraging to see some progress.  I may never have a weed-free flower bed, but at least there are more flowers than weeds these days.

How about me?  Am I still pulling out the weeds in my heart?  Unfortunately, yes, I am.  I do not believe the job will ever be finished.  I do believe that there are fewer now than many years ago, and I think I am meant to notice that, that it is not a sign of arrogance to see the improvement in my life.  Isn’t encouragement a necessary element to growth?

That old saying, “Humility is the thing that as soon as you think you have it, you’ve lost it,” is ridiculous.  How else am I to have the impetus to keep going, especially when the job is unending and obviously so?  Why is it wrong to recognize my progress?  I might as well listen to Satan as to listen to someone say that.  

Several times Paul told the people he wrote that they were doing well, that they had grown, that he was proud of them.  James talks about looking in the mirror of God’s word to see myself.  Am I only supposed to see the faults and none of the good things?  That is exactly what leads people to become so despondent that they quit trying.  

“Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a goat,” applies to people who never receive any positive feedback, who are always criticized and told they have done wrong.  They think if they are going to receive that kind of response when doing their best, they might as well stop trying so hard.  Satan counts on that feeling, and too often we give him the opportunity to make use of it in ourselves and others.

So look at yourself carefully today.  Notice the things you still need to work on and do exactly that.  But also notice where you have improved and gain some encouragement from it.  Maybe the job today won’t be quite so tough.  If you have had a difficult time lately, that little bit of encouragement may be the thing that gets you through another day.

For you know how, like a father with his children, we exhorted each one of you and encouraged you and charged you to walk in a manner worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory.  And we also thank God constantly for this, that when you received the word of God, which you heard from us, you accepted it not as the word of men but as what it really is, the word of God, which is at work in you believers. 1 Thes 2:11-13.

Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward

A few questions:

Why did Jesus so often say, “Thy sins be forgiven thee” instead of, “Your disease be healed?”   Why did he not heal everyone?  Not only did he leave many for the apostles to heal, there is no indication they cleaned up all the rest, even in Judea.

Of course, one of the reasons he said “sins…forgiven” was to emphasize to the scribes and Pharisees that if he could heal, he could forgive.  Certainly, since he healed one leper, he had the power with a word to heal all lepers, or to heal all the blind.  The power was there.  The compassion that moved him to heal had to also tug at his heart in relation to all the un-healed lame and sick.

The questions bring our focus to the simple truth that sickness/infirmity was not the problem; sin was.  The compassion was moved within him to bypass these small things and focus on healing the root, the cause of all the misery that comes on man.  Healing the few he did was a pledge toward the healing of sin.

Sickness is really a part of death.  Healing is life triumphant, but Lazarus, the blind man, the 10 lepers, all still died.  Because Jesus is the great physician, death is destroyed (1 Cor 15:50ff) and we are all healed of death, not merely of a symptom like disease, and we will all be raised.

So, the last question:  What occupies the bulk of your prayer time?  A list of sick church members and friends?  Or, a list of sins and sin-sick souls?  I think my answer leaves me on the wrong side here.

Yes, I know the prayer of faith will heal the sick and I am by no means suggesting that any of us diminish that part of our prayer life.  I am thinking that I am going to greatly increase the part of mine that focuses on sin and the healing of sin and death.

Notice how great a portion of Jesus’ last prayer for the disciples was in relation to their spiritual safety and triumph:

I am praying for them.  I am not praying for the world but for those whom you have given me, for they are yours.  All mine are yours, and yours are mine, and I am glorified in them.  And I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you.  Holy Father, keep them in your name, which you have given me, that they may be one, even as we are one.  While I was with them, I kept them in your name, which you have given me. I have guarded them, and not one of them has been lost except the son of destruction, that the Scripture might be fulfilled.  But now I am coming to you, and these things I speak in the world, that they may have my joy fulfilled in themselves.  I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they are not of the world, just as I am not of the world.  I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one. (Jn 17:9-15).

Keithh Ward

Nearly twenty years ago, while on his weekly rounds as a probation officer, Keith was ambushed and shot five times by one of the convicted felons assigned to him.  It was a terrifying experience.  The word spread through all branches of the Department of Corrections and law enforcement.  Once we were sure he would survive and the details of his success in handling it got out, we received well wishes and get well cards, emails and phone calls from people we did not even know, including the Secretary of the Department of Corrections.  

Probation officers all over the state congratulated him because it validated them as law enforcement officers themselves.  Many offered to donate some of their sick leave to him so he wouldn’t have to go on workman’s comp, which would have paid only 2/3 of his salary.  One of the news stories mentioned that he had been in the Marine Corps, and a couple of ex-Marines sent emails ending with the sentiment, “Semper Fi!’  Add this to the people who helped us that very night, including a local fireman who had heard the radio traffic, and after I had driven the forty miles to the town where this all happened and stopped at his station to ask directions, decided to drive me on the next 30 miles to the hospital.  He also called his wife to follow us in his own truck so he would have a ride home, dropped me off at the emergency room, parked the car, and paid the fee.

    Brothers in arms come out of the woodwork when a need arises.  They band together and support one another.  They offer service far beyond the minimum precisely because they are brothers.

    That’s the way the church is supposed to work.  We think we have found one that does.  When one of us has a serious surgery, the waiting room is full.  When there is an accident or medical emergency, the walls of the ER are lined with folks awaiting word.  Cars park along every piece of curb in our neighborhoods when one of us is called home.  The line to greet a wayward brother as he arrives back to his spiritual family fills the aisles to the back of the building.  When prayers are requested, if there were such a thing, the switchboard in Heaven would be jammed.  I know.  I have been on the receiving end of those times.  

    I am often bemused by things some do and do not allow to be announced during the services of the assembled church.  “That’s not a work of the church,” is patently false.  We are to “rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.”  We are to “encourage one another to love and good works.”  We are to “train the younger” and “support the weak.”  We are to gather “from house to house” and “practice hospitality one to another.”  

If we can pray for it, why can’t it be announced?  And if we aren’t praying for the stability of newly married couples, the safe delivery of new babies and their mothers and the wisdom of new young parents, strength for recently graduated seniors set to go out and make their marks in the world, and thanking God for the examples of fiftieth wedding anniversaries, what in the world is wrong with us?  I can see Jesus shaking his head and muttering something about “straining at gnats and swallowing camels,” as we insist on the artificial boundary of a spoken “Amen” before we announce something in exactly the same room to exactly the same people.

    When something momentous happens in a Christian’s life, whether good or bad, his brothers and sisters in arms should come streaming out to meet him with whatever he needs.  He shouldn’t need to count on the world to support him and offer help.  And beyond that, they should be the daily spiritual support, the ones he counts on and runs to, and the ones he in turn aids far beyond the barest necessities.  Shame on any congregation when they are outshone by the carnal groups in this world.  They are supposed to be the spiritual family, the family of God.  When something happens in a family it affects them all, and this family should be the one that cares the most and gives the most because we all share the same Father, the same Savior, and the same salvation—undeserved grace.

    Brothers in arms are neither silent nor invisible.  If they are, then they aren’t the brothers they claim to be.  They know what binds them together and nothing can break that cord.

If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.  1Cor 12:26.

Dene Ward

We have a tendency to think of ourselves as far more enlightened than those who lived under the Old Law, far more knowledgeable, certainly, of things like the grace of God.  Nonsense.  Just listen to what Daniel had to say in 9:18.   For we do not present our supplications before you for OUR righteousness, but for your great mercies’ sake.  Can you think of a better definition of grace?
 
   Those folks also understood that here and now is not what matters, it is only a temporary stop on a journey to the Eternal.  

    Abraham and Sarah certainly understood that despite their relative wealth in their day and time, it was nothing to compare with what God had in store for them, even far beyond the Promised Land they wandered in.  They died in faith, not having received the promises but having greeted them from afar, and having confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on this earth, Heb 11:13.  

    And Moses, who could had the wealth of Egypt at his disposal, [chose] rather to share ill-treatment with the people of God than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season, accounting the reproaches of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt, Heb 11:25,26.  The “reproaches of Christ?”  But he was an Old Testament character!  Of course he was, but he still “got it” better than many of us on this side of Malachi.

    Even Hannah, a humble woman of Ephraim, was able to recognize in her song of thanksgiving in 1 Samuel 2, Jehovah makes poor and he makes rich, he brings low and he lifts up, he raises up the poor out of the dust, he lifts up the needy from the dunghill and makes them sit with princes and inherit the throne of glory.  For the pillars of the earth are Jehovah’s and he has set the world upon them…not by his [own] might shall a man prevail.  Hannah knew that the circumstances of this life were not what counted—her God was in control and He would reward her.

    We could go on and on.  Ruth, who left home, family, familiar customs and language—her comfort zone, we might say today-- to go to a place where she had nothing to expect but a life of poverty and loneliness, not only as a widow, but also as an alien among God’s people.  Forget for a moment what actually happened to her.  She expected nothing but a hard life.  Yet she thought that being able to worship and serve this Jehovah she had learned of with the people He had chosen, was worth giving up any chance at an easier life in her native land.  She knew that it was not that physical land that mattered.

    So what about us “enlightened” folks?  Are we willing to give up anything and everything in this world, willing to endure anything and everything, willing to be different, to think differently, to act differently from everyone else no matter how uncomfortable that may make us, because we understand the importance of the Eternal, or do the tangible things of life tether us to this side of Eternity?  To which side of life are you tied today?

In this we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling. For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up in life.  He who has prepared us for this very thing is God…So we are always of good courage.  We know that while we are at home in the body, we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight.  Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.  So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him, for we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done while in the body, whether good or evil, 2 Cor 5:2, 4-10.

Dene Ward

We’ve all seen those definitions of pessimism and optimism, the classic being the half-empty or half-full glass.  As a gardener, I’ve come up with my own. 

When you look out over your herb garden, do you see beautiful brightly colored butterflies flitting around, or does your mind’s eye conjure up green caterpillars on naked parsley stems, their leaves stripped away practically overnight?  I have a friend who is overjoyed at the sight of a butterfly.  I often have a difficult time sharing her joy.

But I recognize the problem.  Pessimism can easily turn to cynicism.  We want to rationalize that by calling it “being realistic.”  But here’s the difference:  
Realism understands that you won’t save everyone (Matt 7:13,14).  Cynicism doesn’t even try.  

Realism knows that you are unlikely to change the mind of that misled young man in the white shirt and tie who knocked on your door with Bible in hand, but it greets him with kindness and respect.  Cynicism views him not as a lost soul, but as an adversary and approaches him with sarcasm and downright hatefulness.

Realism knows that perhaps even a majority of those who ask for help at the meetinghouse door are making prey of good-hearted brethren, but it takes the time to politely ask a few questions and determine an appropriate action just in case.  Cynicism immediately tars them all with the same brush and sends them on empty-handed, both physically and spiritually.

Realism is compassion tempered with wisdom.  “Be ye wise as serpents and harmless as doves.”  Cynicism is malice fueled by pessimism.  It looks for the worst, it expects the worst, and ultimately it rejoices in finding it.  That is about as un-Christlike as it comes.

So watch the butterflies today and enjoy them.  You can always check for caterpillars in the parsley later, and then rejoice when you only find a few.

[Love} does not rejoice at unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  1Cor 13:6-7.

Dene Ward

It must be a sign of my “un-hipness.”  I never have, and I suppose I never will understand the desire to buy pants that look worn out right off the rack, faded, holey and torn.  Surely we have reached some sort of social neurosis when a symptom of poverty becomes the popular thing to do for even the wealthiest.

    The Holy Spirit did not go in for this obsession either.  In 1 Peter 1: 4 one of the wonderful things about our inheritance, He says, is that it will not “fade away.”

    When Disneyworld opened in Florida I was 19 years old.  It was the first time I had been to anything “Disney” at all, and I was entranced.  As we rode in on the monorail, I swiveled my head back and forth so much that I was literally “dizzy with delight.”  I laughed at all the corny jokes in the Haunted House elevator.  So much for trying so hard to make everyone think I was now “an adult.”  I could not get enough of all the fanciful details.  I didn’t even mind waiting in line!  Why they had air conditioning vents blowing out on you as you waited!  Isn’t that amazing?

    The first time I took my children they enjoyed it as much as I had.  We had saved money for a year and experienced that park the way it should be experienced, and it was nearly magical, even for us world-weary grown-ups, because we were seeing it again through the eyes of our inexperienced children.  

    But as my boys grew up and became involved in more and more school activities, they wound up going to Disneyworld for state competitions every year, sometimes twice a year.  By their senior years, it was old hat.  They spent more time in their hotel rooms than in the park itself.  It had become so familiar that it had lost its luster.  They even had unused Disney tickets sitting on their desks at home.  Can you imagine?

    Peter says that will never happen with our inheritance.  It will never lose its luster.  It will always be a wonder as if new, never trite or stale or boring.  Imagine every moment of Eternity being like the first time a small child sees the wonder of a grand amusement park—only so much better, a thousand, a million, a billion times over because it was created by God and not man.

    That is the inheritance we have waiting for us.  Somehow I don’t think we will want it to be used, torn, and full of holes.  Looking fresh and new and un-faded every single moment will be just fine.  

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to his great mercy begat us again unto a living hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, unto an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fades not away, reserved in heaven for you, who by the power of God are guarded through faith unto a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time, 1 Pet 1:3-5..

Dene Ward

We planted the main garden the second week of March.  It looks great this year, and I have already put up what we need and more, and shared with people who probably wish I wouldn’t any more.

    When the cantaloupe row came up, which is Keith’s baby, he was happy to see it full with no bare spots.  I heard about it the day he saw the first bloom.  Then a couple of weeks later he came in with a funny look on his face.  

    “Let me show you something,” he said, and I followed him out the door straight to that row of cantaloupes.  “Look at those baby cantaloupes.”  So I bent over, lifted the leaves and looked, only to discover baby cucumbers instead.  He had gone out to plant without his glasses and used up the remains of what he thought was a packet of cantaloupe seeds on the first two hills.  Turns out that packet, which did not have a picture let me hasten to add, must have said, “Cucumber.”  So the first two hills in the cantaloupe row are cucumbers.

    Is that bad?  Well, yes and no.  I already had plenty of cucumber hills planted, and these two extra hills are some of the most prolific bearers I have ever seen.  I have made my pickles and still my refrigerator is overflowing.  

    And it turns out these two hills are the best tasting of the bunch.  But since he tossed that empty packet of “cantaloupe” seeds, we have no idea what kind they were.  I have been experimenting with new varieties the past two years and these were leftovers from the year before.

    Then there is the fact that his row is two hills short of cantaloupe, which to him is a catastrophe.  So what can we learn from all this?

    Well, I doubt he will ever forget to wear his glasses when he plants the garden again.  But what about us?

    I suppose the obvious point is this—you will reap what you sow.  Thinking it is cantaloupe won’t make cucumber seeds produce them.  That old “sowing his wild oats” adage is the stupidest thing I ever heard.  All he will get, whoever he is, is wild oats.  You don’t “get it out of your system” and think you will produce anything else.  “Be sure your sin will find you out.”

    What are you sowing in your children?  What do they hear you say?  Please do not make the mistake of thinking they do not pick up on sarcastic comments and hypercritical statements, even at a very early age.  Children tend to think that everything that goes wrong is their fault, usually because they have to deal with the foul tempers of parents who take it out on them.

    What about their entertainment?  What words are being sown in their active little minds?  What ideas?  What priorities?  What character traits?  Do you even know what they are watching?  

    What about their friends?  I have had children in my home whose parents never once called or even darkened my door.  One time I had a young man for the whole weekend.  He came home with my sons on Friday and we put him on the bus Monday morning!  We didn’t mind a bit, but where was his mama?  

    What about yourself?  What are you sowing?  What is your entertainment?  What is your reading material?  Where do you go and with whom?  If you find yourself saying things you never said before, maybe it’s time to change friends.  They are sowing more in you than you are in them.

    Check the seed packet this morning before you go out.  Check it again when you come in.  Make sure you are sowing the seed of the Word of God, not only in your friends, but in your children, and in yourself.  And put on your glasses when you do.

For they sow the wind and they shall reap the whirlwind…Sow to yourself in righteousness, reap according to kindness…Hos 8:7; 10:12.

Just a note here.  We have recently discovered that some of our articles on the right sidebar have been deleted.  We are not certain when or how this happened.  Please bear with us as we try to put three years worth of work back together, and if you have any suggestions or ideas, they are welcome!

Dene Ward

I have noticed something about Judges 13 that most people seem to miss.  Usually we get into a discussion about Samson’s origins, and how his parents were so careful to do what God told them to do even before he was born, a good discussion to be sure.  But I like to point out something else that is just as helpful to me as I try to live my life as a disciple of Christ.

I find the difference between Samson’s parents amusing.  God knew exactly what He was doing when He approached Manoah’s wife instead of Manoah himself with the news that they would finally have a son.  His wife did run to tell him, as any woman would, but we immediately get the picture of a man so excited he cannot quite think straight.  He wants to see this messenger too, so when “the man of God” returns, his wife dutifully brings him.  After hearing the same message, Manoah insists on fixing a meal which “the man” says must be an offering to God instead, an offering which is immediately ignited, taking “the man” with it.  Wow!  This must be an angel!  Now Manoah is really excited!  “We’re going to die!” he screams to his wife.

This calm, practical woman probably sighed before telling him, “Nonsense.  If we were going to die, why would he tell us that this was going to happen to us and how to act until then?”  The inference is that with this bit of common sense she managed to soothe her frantic husband and then did exactly as she was told, altering her diet so that Samson was indeed a Nazirite “from the womb” as God had promised.  Her lack of frenzy did not make her less faithful.  She was instead a woman who managed to temper her enthusiasm enough to actually get the job done.  

It is a big mistake to judge someone’s faith by how loud it is.  Too many times we get caught up in the excitement, roused up by the passion, ignited with the zeal, only to have it burn out, leaving us in a pile of ashes, never having accomplished more than a tiny of piece of our mission, if any at all..  Towering flames may make a beautiful spectacle, but softly glowing coals cook the meal and heat the home far better, and like them, true faith is usually a quiet one that accomplishes the task, even if it is tedious and disagreeable, and simply never goes out.

Faith is a man who gets up every morning and goes out to provide for his family, whether he likes his job or not.  Faith is the woman who cares for her family and her home, as well as the sick and poor in her community, as well as she can, even if the chore gets nasty and no one else notices what she has done.  Faith is the teenager who has the maturity and integrity to rise above his fellows—and in spite of his fellows—in choosing the values he will live by.  Faith is the retired couple who spend much of their free time visiting and having people in their home, usually people who can never return the favor.  Faith is the widow who goes to the meetinghouse on Monday and Thursday to keep the classrooms in order, file the bulletin boards, and run off the newsletter, and has it all taken for granted—or even complained about.  Faith is the widower who still comes in every Sunday morning and quietly takes his seat, now empty of the love of his life, but who manages to worship with all his heart anyway, knowing full well that he will see her again.  

Real faith is practical.  It may not be exciting; it may not make the headlines of the local paper; sometimes it may not even be pleasant; but real people who do what needs to be done with a quiet consistency are the ones we should set up as role models for our children.  It takes a far bigger man to do something he may not really like to do simply because it needs doing, than a man who only does the things he enjoys doing.  True faith needs neither the acclamation nor the adrenaline rush to endure. 

Keep at it.  Keep plugging along.  Someone is noticing, actually a lot of someones, and your faith will be the example that sustains them as well.

And you, being in time past alienated and enemies in your mind in your evil works,  yet now has he reconciled in the body of his flesh through death, to present you holy and without blemish and unreproveable before him: if so be that you continue in the faith, grounded and steadfast, and not moved away from the hope of the gospel which you heard, Col 1:23-24.

Dene Ward

Recently someone asked me how I keep from being depressed in my situation.  I was so shocked I stumbled a bit in my answer, finally saying, “Well it certainly wouldn’t help things, so why would I want to do that?”  I got a strange look.  I suppose most people think of “depressed” as something you are, not something you do, but that never has made sense to me.  All those books, TV shows, and movies revolving around people who fall apart after some sort of shocking revelation, never have made sense to me. So a bad thing has happened.  You know what?  The laundry still needs washing, the bills still need paying, and the dog still has an appointment at the vet for her rabies shot.  I guess I am just a little too practical.

But I remember once, many years ago, when I was unable to keep a tear from leaking out in front of my little boy.  We were preparing to move, and after several days of packing and cleaning, and saying good-bye to yet another good friend, it just got away from me.  He asked what was wrong.  

I never tried to hide things from my children.  I told them what I thought they could understand at the time they asked.  He would not have understood about the other problems of a move, but he had little friends himself that I knew he would miss, so I said, “It’s just sad to leave your friends.”

He put his arms around my neck and patted my back.  “It’s all right, mama.  You will always have Jesus.”

That nearly undid me for good, but I managed to smile and say, “You are right.  And so will you.”  Then we went on with the task of packing, and managed a laugh or two before long.

As I think back on that now, I believe he had the answer I should have given this friend.  Somehow a four year old understood that no matter what happens, we are never alone.  What he did not say, but which struck me right between the eyes when I thought about it, was that when we allow ourselves to be depressed over this life, we are being singularly ungrateful to Christ for what He did for us.  If this life were all there was, then we ought to be depressed.  "If we have only hoped in Christ in this life, we are of all men most pitiable" 1 Cor 15:19.  But He gave up a lot so we could have hope for the next life.  I will not slap Him in the face by acting like anything in this life is important enough to take away the joy I have in a relationship with Him.

That does not mean that some days are not difficult, especially when the pain is worse or the vision is obviously less.  But I do not wallow like a pig in the muddy misery.  I choose not to, in part because a four year old reminded me not to.

From now on, when someone asks, I think I will just use my little boy’s answer—which I hope he has not forgotten either.  How can I be depressed when I have a Savior who loves me?

For it became him, for whom are all things, and through whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto glory, to make the author of their salvation perfect through sufferings. For both he that sanctifies and they that are sanctified are all of one: for which cause he is not ashamed to call them brethren, Heb 2:10,11.

Dene Ward

Sometime back a young lady came up to a friend of mine and said, “I want to be a sweet little old lady when I get older.  How do I do that?”

    I can imagine myself asking the same question when I was young.  I guess I thought there was a magic age, a time when suddenly I would understand everything and feel wise.  It hasn’t happened yet, and youth left me a long time ago.  

    My wise friend looked at this young woman and said, “The way to become a sweet little old lady is to be a sweet young lady.”

    She is so right.  I can guarantee you that every grumpy old man you know was once a grumpy young one, and every bitter old lady you know was a bitter young one.  You will not suddenly become wise just because you have aged, and you will not suddenly become good-natured either.  It reminds me of something I heard on an audio book recently:  there are no happy endings, only happy people.  

    And isn’t that what we Christians are supposed to be, happy?  Yet it seems I meet more and more unhappy Christians.  Maybe we do not dwell enough on the hope we have—or maybe we simply don’t believe it.  If I do believe in that hope, it will show in the things that do and do not upset me, in the things that do and do not discourage me.  It will show in how I treat people, even those who are not kind or who actively mistreat me.  It will show in the way I put others ahead of myself and my own desires, serving as well as I can in whatever situation I am in.  Isn’t that what a sweet little old lady does, or a kind and pleasant old man?  I have known many in my lifetime.  Christians should always become sweet little old ladies and kind and pleasant old men because they believe that here and now is not the end of the matter.  They understand that very soon they will see a happy beginning that never ends--and they believe it.

    If you want to be a sweet little old lady when you grow up, start working on it today, whatever your age, or you will never make it in time.

Blessed is the one who finds wisdom, and the one who gets understanding, for the gain from her is better than gain from silver and her profit better than gold. She is more precious than jewels, and nothing you desire can compare with her.  Long life is in her right hand; in her left hand are riches and honor. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.  She is a tree of life to those who lay hold of her; those who hold her fast are called blessed, Prov 3:13-18.

Dene Ward