Cooking is a funny thing.  Sometimes you can mess around with it and sometimes you can’t.  My recipe for minestrone is not something a purist would recognize as minestrone, and it’s never the same.  Some of it depends upon what’s in the refrigerator, and some of it comes from our likes and dislikes.  You can change it around, but as long as it winds up as a brothy soup with a bunch of vegetables in it, some kind of pasta, and some Mediterranean herbs, you can call it minestrone.  You really can’t mess it up unless you do something just plain weird with it, like pouring in a bottle of molasses.
            Baking is another matter.  You must think long and hard before you change anything in a recipe for baked goods.  If you don’t, it can fall, or not rise, or be too dry to choke down, or so “short” that it turns into crumbs when you touch it.  If you use baking soda, you must have an acid like buttermilk or sour cream.  If you get any fat in your egg whites they won’t whip.  If you don’t heat the liquid, your yeast won’t rise, but if you heat it too much you kill it. Baking is chemistry and it does make a difference.
            A lot of people don’t want to follow any sort of recipe in their religion.  They think it is about good hearts, sincere love, and feeling good, none of which is quantifiable, and therefore none of which can be legislated.  They will proclaim that the early church did things differently depending upon the location and the culture, and in some cases they are correct.  Just like cooking minestrone can be varied according to the ingredients on hand and the palates of the eaters.  But sometimes it is like baking—it does make a difference if you don’t want your cake to fall.
            The word may not be used in the New Testament, but the concept of an appropriate orthodoxy is there in black and white.
            And when they had appointed elders for them in every church, with prayer and fasting they committed them to the Lord in whom they had believed. Acts 14:23.
            That is why I sent you Timothy, my beloved and faithful child in the Lord, to remind you of my ways in Christ, as I teach them everywhere in every church. 1 Cor 4:17.
            Only let each person lead the life that the Lord has assigned to him, and to which God has called him. This is my rule in all the churches. 1 Cor 7:17.
            For God is not a God of confusion but of peace. As in all the churches of the saints, I Cor 14:33.
            Now concerning the collection for the saints: as I directed the churches of Galatia, so you also are to do. 1 Cor 16:1.
            There are certain things the apostles expected to be done everywhere.  The methods were not always specified, and that’s where we get to choose our ingredients, but the other things are religious “baking”—things that must be done for our service to God to be acceptable.  If we think we can change the chemistry we are wrong.  Put egg whites in a greasy bowl and they will not turn into a beautiful meringue no matter how sincerely you beat them.
            As you can plainly see from the passages quoted above, God expects some control over our service to him.  Some folks chafe at the idea that we cannot change anything and everything about our religious service at our own whims.  Israel had the same problem and wound up in Babylonian captivity.  Don’t make the mistakes they did.
 
He will render to each one according to his works: to those who by patience in well-doing seek for glory and honor and immortality, he will give eternal life; but for those who are self-seeking and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, there will be wrath and fury, Rom 2:6-8.
 
Dene Ward

I am sure you have experienced the feeling.  A favorite book is made into a movie, and then you find out who will play the starring role.  “No!” you think.  “Not him!”  He is too old, too young, too scrawny, too short, too “pretty.”  Whatever it is, you had already pictured the character in your mind and since this actor doesn’t fit your preconceived notions, you are not happy.
            It doesn’t really matter when it comes to movies.  It might very well matter when it comes to the Lord.
            I am sure we all picture Jesus in our minds.  Most of the time we need to scrap the picture entirely.  He was Jewish.  He was probably medium height for the day, which is considerably shorter than nowadays.  Isaiah plainly says he would not be handsome, and even that is predicated upon that culture’s view of things.  He certainly wasn’t pale and blue-eyed with a medium shade of brown hair as he is so often shown in pictures.  In a similar vein, the only thing about American women's penchant for "tall, dark, and handsome" that fit him was the "dark" part.
            He also didn’t act the way we think he did.  Too often we let modern society’s view of a milksop color our views of how he spoke and taught, how he interacted with others, and the emotions he might have shown.  Yes, he could be incredibly gentle, even with the sinners and especially with women and children.  But he could crack a stinging verbal whip as well.
            One of the ways I study, especially a passage that is already familiar to me, is to choose a word in it and look for every other use of that word I can find, trying to discover something new, or a deeper way of looking at a verse or event.
            Take the word “cry,” which is nearly as often translated “cry out.”  Strong’s says the word means “scream” or even “shriek.”  In Mark 9:27 two blind men cry out to Jesus, “Have mercy on us.”  In Mark 9:24, a desperate father cries out to Jesus because of his fatally ill child.  In Matt 27: 23 the mob cried out, Let him be crucified.  In Acts 19:28 and 32, in the midst of a riot and confusion, people cried out.
            Now let me make it even more obvious for you.  That Greek word is krazo, from which we get the English word “crazy.”  Are you getting the picture of what a person who did this would look and sound like?  His voice would not be quiet.  His face would not be calm.  His actions would definitely be agitated.  It would probably not be a pleasant experience to be anywhere near him.  I learned all this years ago when I was studying John 7.
            Then cried Jesus in the temple as he taught…John 7:28.  Yes, it is the same word.  Jesus was not a mealy-mouthed preacher.  He could rant with the best of them.  Even his apostles occasionally followed his example (Acts 23:6).  No, this was not his only method as we have indicated above, but it would be a good idea to examine the people who caused this reaction in him.  I wouldn’t want him to speak to me that way.
            Don’t let a mistaken view of the Lord make you take less than seriously the things he says.
 
…when the Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven with his mighty angels in flaming fire, inflicting vengeance on those who do not know God and on those who do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus, 2 Thes 1:7,8.
 
Dene Ward

Shortly after meeting some new people, word came back from mutual friends that their assessment of us was, “They do so well for a handicapped couple.”
            Handicapped?  We had never thought of ourselves that way.  No one else, even people who have known us for years, has ever described us that way.  Now Keith, who has reached the point of “profound deafness” may well be called handicapped, but he has never used that word of himself.  He just keeps on doing what needs to be done because it has to be done.  About the only thing I have taken over for him is the telephone.
            He has never used his handicap as an excuse.  Nothing disgusts him more than many of the felons he must deal with who blame society, their parents, their neighborhoods, their economic class and anything else they can for their lack of education and ambition, and their crimes.  He was raised in back hill poverty, without running water, with only a kitchen woodstove for heat in a climate where the water bucket in that same kitchen often developed a top layer of ice overnight.  He began going deaf in his early 20s and already had one hearing aid at 27.  He finished a college degree while supporting a wife and two children.  He continued to work into his upper 60s, despite his ever increasing disability, and then began several hours a week of volunteer work.  He uses none of his “handicaps” as an excuse.  They are simply obstacles to be overcome.
            Too often we want to claim handicaps in our work for God.  I don’t have time.  I don’t have the money.  I don’t have the talent.  I am too young and inexperienced.  I am too old.  I am not popular.  I am too shy.  The same God who promised he would not tempt you more than you are able to bear, will not give you an opportunity you don’t have the ability to handle.
            He doesn’t lay out the opportunities like a multiple choice test, then let us choose the one we want.  “None of the above” is not on the list either.  He is the one who decides our handicaps and his decision is obvious in the things he places before us to do.  He expects us to choose “all of the above.”
            Handicaps will make you stronger, but not if you use them as excuses.  You must work your way through them.  Then God will decide whether you did as much as you were able to do.  He is the one who really knows.
 
But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Cor 12:9,10.
 
Dene Ward

Malachi is not a difficult book to understand.  In fact, it, along with Jonah, may be the two easiest of the prophets to grasp.  The difficulty in Malachi is that you do understand it.  Talk about a hard sermon, I haven't heard anyone of our era preach one like it—not even Keith!
            “A son honors his father, and a servant his master. If then I am a father, where is my honor? And if I am a master, where is my fear? says the LORD of hosts to you, O priests, who despise my name. But you say, ‘How have we despised your name?’ By offering polluted food upon my altar. But you say, ‘How have we polluted you?’ By saying that the LORD's table may be despised. When you offer blind animals in sacrifice, is that not evil? And when you offer those that are lame or sick, is that not evil? Present that to your governor; will he accept you or show you favor? says the LORD of hosts. And now entreat the favor of God, that he may be gracious to us. With such a gift from your hand, will he show favor to any of you? says the LORD of hosts. Oh that there were one among you who would shut the doors, that you might not kindle fire on my altar in vain! I have no pleasure in you, says the LORD of hosts, and I will not accept an offering from your hand. For from the rising of the sun to its setting my name will be great among the nations, and in every place incense will be offered to my name, and a pure offering. For my name will be great among the nations, says the LORD of hosts. But you profane it when you say that the Lord's table is polluted, and its fruit, that is, its food may be despised. But you say, ‘What a weariness this is,’ and you snort at it, says the LORD of hosts. You bring what has been taken by violence or is lame or sick, and this you bring as your offering! Shall I accept that from your hand? says the LORD. (Mal 1:6-13)
            If you just skimmed over that passage above, stop right now, go back and read it carefully.
            My sisters and I trod very lightly as we read through this first chapter in our prophets class.  We put off the pain as long as possible, talking about whether Malachi was really a prophet named Malachi or an anonymous writer called "Malachi," which means "my messenger."  We decided Malachi was indeed the prophet Malachi.  After all, every name in Hebrew means some sort of ordinary word.  Just because we choose to give our children names that are a conglomeration of syllables and sounds that we have no clue what means doesn't mean everyone does.
            Then we spent more time discussing when Malachi was written, which, due to the nature of the similar problems in both Malachi and Nehemiah, seemed a no-brainer.  And after that came an explanation of the disputation method of speaking, which several of the prophets employed.  Only Malachi uses it throughout an entire book.
            Finally we could put it off no longer.  "How," the question in our study began, "can we apply this passage to ourselves?"  "How can we," someone asked, "when we live in such different times?"  Ah, but do we?
            Those people had returned from captivity to restore the nation of Israel and its true worship.  They had built the altar first, so they could begin their worship immediately.  Then they built the Temple and finally the walls of the city.  Here they are about 100 years after the return, going about the daily sacrifices and annual feasts, yet still God has not brought about the glorious kingdom he had promised.  Still the Messiah has not come.  They are in a waiting period and, as they wait, their worship has become dull, meaningless routine.  Their heart is no longer in it.  They are bored in their assemblies and snort at the rituals rather than remembering the reason for them.
            Let's see… Aren't we in a waiting period?  Jesus promised his return 2000 years ago, but here we sit, going through the same routines, forgetting why we worship and neither giving it our best effort nor our best sacrifice.
            So how are we like those people sometimes?  Hang onto your hats as we go through those verses above from our perspective!
            1)  Worship has become all about our entertainment and approval rather than obedience and reverence.  We have completely forgotten that we are not the audience—God is—and He expects us to worship to the best of our abilities even if the preacher is boring and we don't like the songs.  It doesn't matter—AT—ALL—what we think about the services, only what God does.
            2) We treat the Lord's Supper like some kind of magic potion.  As long as we "make it in time for that," we are okay.  Never mind that we have missed singing with our hearts to our Creator.  Never mind that we have not taught and admonished each other.  Never mind that we have not been there to provoke one another to love and good works.  That teensy bite and sip (where did that come from?) will keep us safe for another week.  We fail to treat this precious opportunity as a grateful memorial and unifying communion with the Lord and our brethren.
            3) We offer God skimpy or exhausted leftovers, not only in the plate, but in our time and energy for prayer, study, and service.  ("Study?  I read my chapter every night.  What more is there to do?")
            4) We compartmentalize our religion to Sunday at the meetinghouse and forget that we are to offer our "living sacrifice" every day of the week.  When we wake in the morning, it should be with an eye how to best serve God that day—not ourselves.
            5) We fail to teach what is unpopular with the world.  Why, we will just run them off if they know we believe that! (2:7,8)
            How are your toes feeling now?  Malachi hits the nail on the head and never apologizes for it.  Could it be that he knows this truth:  God won't be happy with us either if this is the way we serve him.  We may be waiting a long time yet.  The world may last another millennia or two, but maybe not.  Let's not get as bad those people.  Wouldn't it be awful if God said of us as he did of them, "I wish there were one among you who would close the meetinghouse doors, that you no longer worship me in vain?" (1:10)
​
Blessed is that servant whom his master will find so doing when he comes. Truly, I say to you, he will set him over all his possessions. But if that servant says to himself, ‘My master is delayed in coming,’ and begins to beat the male and female servants, and to eat and drink and get drunk, the master of that servant will come on a day when he does not expect him and at an hour he does not know, and will cut him in pieces and put him with the unfaithful. (Luke 12:43-46)
 
Dene Ward

John does not mince his words.  If how a person behaves contradicts what he says, he is a liar.  To claim to know God and have fellowship with God while we walk in the darkness of disobedience is to lie (1 John 1:6; 2:4).  To claim to possess the Father while denying the deity of the Son is to lie (2:22-23).  To claim to love God while hating our brothers is also to lie.  There are the three black lies of the letter:  moral, doctrinal, and social.  We may insist that we are Christian, but habitual sin, denial of Christ or selfish hatred would expose us as liars.  Only holiness, faith and love can prove the truth of our claim to know, possess and love God.

L A Mott, Jr., Thinking Through John's Epistles

Whenever we whiz past workers on the interstate, I cringe, especially if they are not standing behind the "protection" of those concrete barriers.  What if one of them slipped and fell?  What if a couple of them were engaging in horseplay and a little shove propelled one into traffic?  What if…  My imagination can run overtime with those things, I'm afraid, but even if I were not to blame, I would feel terrible if he fell in front of my car.
            I know that is so because when I was a child, one of my parents' friends accidentally killed a child who was riding his bike around his neighborhood.  No, it was not the man's fault.  The boy was not watching where he was going and simply rode out into the middle of the street.  Maybe, as an inexperienced child, he thought a car could stop on a dime.  I don't know, but he was killed instantly.
            Our friend was a wreck.  Witnesses stood by him and he was cleared of all culpability, but he still had a hard time with it.  Over and over he kept thinking, "I killed an innocent child," and the word "accident" made no difference to him whatsoever.
            I would feel the same way, and I believe you would, too.  Being responsible for the death of anyone at all, much less an innocent, would be a terrible burden to bear.  Would there be anything we wouldn't do for that family to try to make amends?
            Yet we are all guilty of killing an innocent person.  Every one of us who has sinned even one sin—if that were possible—has murdered the Son of God.  Does it haunt you the way killing that child haunted our friend?  Would you do anything to make amends? 
            And the worst of it is this—for us it wasn't even an accident.  And in the words of the old hymn, every time we sin, we "crucify him once again."  If it made us feel as bad as it ought to, maybe we wouldn't have such a difficult time with temptation.  If we truly felt horrible about it, we might just be able to overcome.
            Something to think about this morning.
 
For as touching those who were once enlightened and tasted of the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the Holy Spirit, and tasted the good word of God, and the powers of the age to come, and then fell away, it is impossible to renew them again unto repentance; seeing they crucify to themselves the Son of God afresh, and put him to an open shame. (Heb 6:4-6)
 
Dene Ward

Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, Eph 5:25

Our culture gets in the way of our Bible study far too often.  It is a lesson taught to me by a younger woman about twenty years ago.  During that class we were discussing the wives of David and the problems that might have caused—all of them being wives of the same man.  Naturally the idea of jealousy and resentment came up first, and we discussed that for several minutes. 
Finally this young woman spoke up and said, "I don't think we have any idea how those women felt.  They grew up with the idea of polygamy.  It was all around them, especially in the neighboring countries, and even among the richer Israelites.  They knew from the beginning that they might find themselves in this situation.  Their own mothers might have been in that situation.  How can we who are used to monogamy even imagine what they were feeling?"
            I knew immediately that she was correct.  We carry our cultural baggage into our Bible study when we need to be dropping it off at the study door.  The only way to know how these women might have felt is to talk to a woman who has experienced it.
            And because of our cultural baggage we miss a lot of other examples in the Biblical text.  How about the marriage of Abraham and Sarah?
            Abraham married his half-sister Sarah.  Period.  He was surrounded by polygamy.  His friends and neighbors were likely polygamists. He was wealthy and polygamy was far more common among the rich.  It took money to support several wives and a few dozen children.
            And—Sarah had not given him an heir.  That alone would have been cause for the men of that place and era to find a second, or even third wife.  I can just imagine a neighbor stopping by and saying, "Abraham, my daughter is marriageable now.  She is healthy and could give you the children Sarah has not."  I can even imagine that happening several times. 
            But Abraham did not succumb for decades.  He was 85 when Sarah finally prevailed upon him to take Hagar as a second wife, a concubine since she was a servant.  It took Sarah's great love for her husband and great faith in the plan of God—that there had to be an heir for the promises to come about—before he would even think of doing so.
            Somehow, this man of God had learned the Divine Plan of God for marriage—one man for one woman for one lifetime—and had lived up to it, even among rampant, and culturally acceptable, polygamy.  This man had learned to love his wife "as his own body" thousands of years before Paul put it into words.
            We miss all that because none of us would have ever even dreamed of polygamy to solve the problem.   We miss it because monogamy is second nature to us.  We miss the love this man had for his wife, even after she had grown old and unable to bear him a child, a child God said had to be born for all those promises He made to come about.  Still he was willing to wait, willing to be satisfied with the woman he had originally chosen, when no one else he knew would have.
            And how many of us become dissatisfied over the trivial, dissatisfied enough to trade one in for a new model, as the old saying goes?  How many of us can match the devotion these two people had for each other through thick or thin, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse?  How many of us jump at the first "worse" there is to get out of it?
            See what you miss when you don't study the culture of the times?  See what you miss when you think we are so much smarter, so much wiser, so much more knowledgeable about God than those ancient people were?  Drop your luggage at the door and see what they have to teach you.
 
In the same way husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself.  For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the church, because we are members of his body. “Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.” (Eph 5:28-31)
 
Dene Ward

You would probably be as surprised as I was to learn that vichyssoise, a cold potato leek soup, is an American invention.  Chef Louis Diat of the Ritz Carlton in New York City, was reminiscing one day about a potato soup he and his brother had enjoyed in their childhood.  As boys, they would cool it off during the hot summer by adding milk.  So the chef decided to give his customers a similar experience the summer of 1917, except that what began as potatoes, onions, chicken broth, and milk for peasants became potatoes, onions, leeks, chicken stock and cream, much more suited to a wealthier clientele.  Something similar happened to bouillabaisse.  What began as a stew made by sailors with fish scraps now goes for as much as $75 a bowl in French restaurants.  Talk about an expensive bowl of soup.  Yet most soup is exactly the opposite.
            We eat a lot of soup.  It’s cheap, filling, and healthy.  Even one as high as 400 calories a bowlful is a good meal, and most are far less fattening, coming in at about 200 per serving.  You won’t get tired of it because of the nearly infinite variety. 
            We have had ham and bean soup, navy bean soup, and white bean and rosemary soup.  We’ve had cream of potato soup, baked potato soup, and loaded baked potato soup.  I’ve made bouillabaisse, chicken tortilla, pasta Fagioli, and egg drop soups.  For more special occasions I have prepared shrimp bisque, French onion, and vichyssoise.  We’ve warmed our bones with gumbo, mulligatawny, and clam chowder.  I’ve made practically every vegetable soup there is including broccoli cheese soup, roasted tomato soup, and lentil soup.  And if you want just plain soup, I have even made chicken noodle.  You can have soup every week for a year and not eat the same one twice.
            Not only is it cheap to make, it’s usually cheap to buy.  Often the lowest priced item on a menu is a cup of soup.  I can remember it less than a dollar in my lifetime.  Even now it’s seldom over $3.50.  So why in the world would I ever exchange a bowl of soup for something valuable?
            By now your mind should have flashed back to Jacob and Esau.  Jacob must have been some cook.  I have seen the soup he made that day described as everything from lentils to kidney beans to meat stew.  It doesn’t really matter.  It was a simple homespun dish, not even a gourmet concoction of some kind.
            Usually people focus on Jacob, tsk-tsk-ing about his conniving and manipulation, but think about Esau today.  Yes, he was tired and hungry after a day’s hunt.  But was he really about to starve?  I’ve had my men come in from a day of chopping wood and say, “I could eat a horse,” but not only did I not feed them one, they would not have eaten it if I had.  “I’m starving,” is seldom literal.
            The Bible makes Esau’s attitude plain.  After selling his birthright—his double inheritance—for a bowl of soup, Moses writes, Thus Esau despised his birthright, Gen 25:34.  If that inheritance had the proper meaning to him, it would have taken far more than any sort of meal to get it away from him.  As it was, that was one expensive bowl of soup!
            The Hebrew writer uses another word for Esau—profane--a profane person such as Esau, who for one mess of meat sold his own birthright, Heb 12:16.  That word means “unholy.”  It means things pertaining to fleshly existence as opposed to spiritual, things relevant to men rather than God.  It is the exact opposite of “sacred” and “sanctified.”  Jacob understood the value of the birthright, and he also understood his brother’s carnal nature.  He had him pegged.  So did God.
            What important things are we selling for a mess of pottage?  Have you sold your family for the sake of a career?  Have you sold your integrity for the sake of wealth?  Have you sold your marriage for the sake of a few “I told you so’s?”  Have you sold your place in the body of Christ for a few opinions?  Have you sold your soul for the pleasure you can have here and now?
            Examine your life today, the things you have settled for instead of working for, the things you have given up and the things you gave them up for.  Have you made some really bad deals?  Can you even recognize the true value of what you have lost?  Don’t despise the blessings God has given you.  Don’t sell your family, or your character, or your soul for a bowl of soup.
 
Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us. For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, Phil 3:17-20.
 
Dene Ward
 

Here is an issue that arose with "The David Game," and if you use it, you may have this happen as well.  In fact, this happens to everyone sometime or other in their lives.  It just struck quicker as we were studying that great man of faith with our grandsons.  As the first week of lessons wore on, you could see David growing into a bona fide Superhero in their eyes.  Every day they eagerly awaited the next adventure.
            Then we reached 2 Samuel 11.  As I went through the narrative in terms I thought they could understand—David stealing both a man's wife and then his life—they became quieter and quieter.  Their little blond heads dipped until their chins nearly touched their chests as they wrestled with the concept of a good guy who acted like a bad guy. 
            "Uh-oh," I thought.  "Have I ruined everything?" 
            As it turns out, I hadn't.  We were able to talk about good people making bad mistakes and how God always forgives and takes us back as long as we are truly sorry, willing to say, "I was wrong," and try our best not to sin again.  Their spirits lifted.  After all, they got in trouble now and again too, didn't they?  Here was proof that they were still loved.  David was once again a Bible hero.
            The story of David—of Judah and Peter, too—is an inspiration and a warning to every Christian.  No matter how well you have done for how long, you can still fall, but no matter how far you fall, God will take you back.  But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. (1John 1:7)  We all hunger for that forgiveness and revel in its comfort.
            Yet I have seen too many adults who, when they realize their heroes are not perfect, refuse to give that same forgiveness.
            All children grow up thinking Mommy and Daddy are Superheroes.  Sometime around middle school the luster begins to fade.  By high school, parents are so often "wrong," in their eyes at least, that they can barely be tolerated.
            And the truth is, parents are ordinary people.  They do make mistakes, sometimes big ones.  They have annoying habits and less than stellar character traits--just like every other human on the planet.  The larger problem is they have children, sometimes grown children, who won't accept anything less than perfection.
            When God tells us to forgive one another (Col 3:13 among a host of others), that goes for parents too, and any other person we have expected perfection from—mentors, teachers, preachers, elders, etc.  We have no right to sit in judgment over their apologies, deciding whether or not they are sincere based upon nothing but our own arrogant expectations.  We certainly have no right to ruin a relationship they might have with someone else.  I have seen grandparents have no opportunity for a relationship with their grandchildren because their unforgiving children hold on to grudges from the past.  Meanwhile, those same unforgiving children are making their own mistakes as parents because no parent does it all right—no, not even them, no matter what they might think otherwise.  I have seen the same things happen to elders and preachers by an unforgiving congregant who spreads his ill will everywhere at every opportunity.  Ruining another's perspective somehow validates his own.
            Forgiveness isn't just for strangers or people we aren't particularly close to.  The mistakes of a parent, mentor, or teacher may be more difficult to bear, but an unforgiving child or student or spiritual dependent is devastating to everyone.
 
Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you. (Eph 4:31-32)

Dene Ward

Someone once posted on Facebook about "the scariest day of his life."  That instantly made me wonder what mine was.  When you reach my age, you might have a variety to choose from.
            There was the day I found myself alone and cornered in an office by someone twice my size, who had evil intentions toward me.
            There was the day I found myself looking straight through the windshield into another windshield just seconds before we hit head-on.
            There was the day the telephone operator broke through my conversation with one of my piano student's mother with an emergency cut-in.  Within minutes I heard that my husband had been shot in the line of duty, and I jumped in the car for a sixty mile trip to the hospital, not knowing what I would find when I got there.
            Then there was the week afterward when, because he was under threat from the family of the felon who had ambushed him, and because he had five bullet holes in him and was certainly not able to do it himself, I sat up by the window, keeping watch every night.
            There was the day I received another phone call.  My husband had been found lying in the middle of the highway having convulsions.  I followed the ambulance to the hospital and sat for hours wondering how my life was about to change.
            There was the day I signed page after page after page, including handwritten clauses going up the side of the paper saying, "I understand that no one knows how this material will interact with human tissue."  Then I went into a first of its kind surgery with a surgeon who, though one of the best in the world, still had to practice two or three times (on pigs' eyes!) before he touched me, and I was wondering if I would ever see again.
            Yes, there have been many scary days in my life.  But I can think of nothing scarier than this:  facing my death knowing that I am not right with God.  I will do my best to see that that does not happen.
            How about you?
 
For the time is come for judgment to begin at the house of God: and if it begin first at us, what shall be the end of them that obey not the gospel of God? (1Pet 4:17)
 
Dene Ward