I wish I had a dollar for every hour I have sat in waiting rooms in the past five years, especially at the eye clinic.  I had a 3:30 appointment once, and finally saw the doctor at 7 pm.  Then there was the time we discovered that I needed an emergency procedure.  My appointment had been at 11:00.  I was finally pronounced fit to leave at 5:30. 
            The shortest amount of time I have ever spent at the clinic is two hours.  Sometimes the doctor is overbooked because he has critical patients who simply must be seen that day; I have been one of those patients.  Sometimes he runs late because an emergency arrives that must be worked in; I have been one of those emergencies.  I can hardly complain when someone does it to me.
            Yet, even the night I had to wait until 7:00, I never doubted that I would be seen.  I have never worried that someone would forget I was there and the doctor would leave.
            It makes no sense to doubt God either.  Sometimes we must wait a long time for the answer to a prayer, but it will come.  Sometimes we must endure a trial far longer than we ever expected, but He has not forsaken us.  How long did those faithful Jews wait for their Messiah?  I have never waited that long for God, have you?
            The world thinks that because the promised second coming has not happened in 2000 years it won’t happen at all.  They think that proves God doesn’t even exist, completely ignoring the evidence of His existence all around them.  That makes about as much sense as me deciding my doctor doesn’t exist because I have been sitting here waiting for three hours now, and my fellow patient in the next seat has waited four.
            My doctor is worth the wait.
            If ever anyone was worth a longer wait, it’s God.
 
Knowing this first, that in the last days mockers shall come with mockery, walking after their own lusts, and saying, Where is the promise of his coming? For, from the day that the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation. For this they willfully forget, that there were heavens from of old, and an earth compacted out of water and amidst water, by the word of God; by which means the world that then was, being overflowed with water, perished: but the heavens that now are, and the earth, by the same word have been stored up for fire, being reserved against the day of judgment and destruction of ungodly men. But forget not this one thing, beloved, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.  The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some count slackness; but is longsuffering to you-ward, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance, 2 Pet 3:3-9.
 
Dene Ward

Do a little research and you will find that the term “comfort food” was added to Webster’s Dictionary in 1972.  It refers to foods that are typically inexpensive, uncomplicated, and require little or no preparation at all; foods which usually bring pleasant associations with childhood, just as an old song can remind one of a long ago romance, or a smell can instantly bring back situations both good and bad. 
            Comfort foods vary from culture to culture, but in our country usually include things like macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, fried chicken, ice cream, peanut butter, and brownies.  Folks tend to use comfort foods to provide familiarity and emotional security, or to reward themselves.  It’s not surprising that many of these are loaded with carbohydrates which can produce a soporific effect as well.  Comfort food followed closely by the comfort of sleep.
            Since it became fashionable I have tried to figure out my own list of comfort foods. Here is my problem:  my mother was such a good cook and so adventurous, trying many recipes day after day, that I never had one dish often enough to form an attachment to it.  One cooking magazine actually runs the column, “My Mother’s Best Meal.”  I could not possibly pick one.  I would need a whole page to list them.  So for me it isn’t comfort food, it’s comfort cooking.  When my mind is in turmoil, I cook all day long, trying, I suppose, to recreate the warm, homey, safe atmosphere of my mother’s kitchen.
            Comfort food works for the soul too.  The best part is, you don’t have to be a good cook.  You just open the word of God and feast.  You turn on the water of life and drink to your heart’s content.  You produce the fruit of the lips in praise to God whenever and wherever you desire.  You gather with your brothers and sisters and wallow in a fellowship that has absolutely nothing to do with coffee and donuts.
            You can get fatter and fatter with all that spiritual nourishment and still be healthy.  In fact, in this context at least, the skinnier you are, the sicker, the sadder, and the weaker you are.
            So grab a spoon today, and everyday, and dig in.
 
Work not for the food which perishes, but for the food which abides unto eternal life, which the Son of man shall give unto you: for him the Father, even God, has sealed, John 6:27.
 
Dene Ward

I taught piano lessons (and later added voice lessons) for over 35 years.  By the time I had to quit due to my eye problems, I had a full studio with a two year waiting list.  My students participated in three competitions a year, and no less than four joint recitals, depending upon their ages and their pieces.  At the end of the year, we had what I billed as "the Spring Program," because most people considered recitals "boring" and our programs were anything but.  We put on a show and we had fun.  And afterward I handed out sometimes as many as 20 awards, including some state competition trophies.  Yes, it was a very big deal in our lives.
            "Our lives" because my boys were part of it.  I taught them both.  Lucas went on to focus on voice and theory, while Nathan stayed with the piano.  It's always satisfying to see your children follow in your footsteps.  One day Nathan and I sat down and sightread duets for a half hour or so.  I don't know about him, but I had a blast.  He had grown and learned enough that we could share on an equal footing, a truly exhilarating experience.
            And now, thanks to seeing Daddy play at home, my grandson Silas has started piano lessons.  Last spring I went to his first recital.  He had wowed me all morning, playing a hands-moving-together piece at a difficulty that no 6 year old student of mine had ever reached—with only 8 months of piano under his belt.  We not only practiced his piece, but his bow as well. (Any of my old students reading this will understand.)  And so we all went to the auditorium and sat four rows from the front while he walked up to the grand piano and played his piece.  Perfectly.  With the classiest bow of the evening.  Just last week he did the same thing, this year playing three pieces—perfectly with an almost professional bow.
            I couldn't stop smiling.  And I also couldn't stop the tears from welling in my eyes.  Somehow I managed to get them under control before he saw them, and I gave him a huge hug.  "I am very proud," I said.  "You have made me very happy."
            As proud and happy as I was that day, there are a few other things that would make me even happier.  I doubt I even have to list them.  You know exactly what I am talking about because you wish them for your children and grandchildren too.
            I still help Silas with his piano practice.  With a new piece I often play the left hand while he plays the right, and then we swap places.  By then he can manage to put both hands together himself.  I still help with the theory homework, clapping out rhythms and asking questions that lead him to the right answers.
            But more often than that, we talk about Bible characters, narratives and principles.  We talk about God.  We pray together and sing together.  We memorize verses and recite them together.  Doesn't he get this from his parents?  Of course he does, but the more he gets from more different people—especially people who mean something to him—the more it will mean to him, and the better it will stick.  Just like his Grandma and Daddy playing the piano.
            That first recital was wonderful.  But a first public prayer, a first sermon, and of course, the first commitment--when the time is right--will be even better.
 
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children's children, to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments. (Ps 103:17-18)
 

In the past year I have heard of several who have found the Lord's body by remembering things from long ago.  Some of them were good memories about a group of God's people and others not so good, but both kinds had them searching out the Truth and they wound up finding it, obeying the gospel or coming back to the Lord, whichever fit the occasion.  Seeds planted long ago finally germinated, which reminded me instantly of I planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase (1Cor 3:6).  Again and again I remind myself to just plant the seed and don't worry about the results; that part isn't my business.
            All of that made me wonder why we so constantly judge a preacher or teacher's efforts by the numbers.  Is it really fair, when his part is to plant or water?  If you want to count the numbers, you should be counting how many he preached to, not how many times the water splashed.  That's what the inspired writer Paul said.
            Sometimes you can teach your heart out only to see a class steadily shrink in size.  You can invite everyone in your neighborhood to come hear the gospel, knock on doors until your knuckles chafe, and speak to every waiter, cashier, or repairman, and never see any of them show up on Sunday morning.  If you planted the seed, you did what you were supposed to do.  Sometimes it takes a while to sprout.  In fact, you may not live long enough to see those tiny green leaves push up through the ground.  Sometimes that's just the way it works.
            We must stop judging by the numbers, by how many have been baptized and how much the membership has grown numerically.  There may well be other growth going on that is not quite so obvious but healthy for the kingdom just the same.  When we do judge by numerical results, just who are we judging?  I think the Book says we are judging God.  After all, He is the one who gives the increase.  I am not real sure I would want to be standing in those shoes!
 
For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it (Isa 55:10-11).
 
Dene Ward
 

Once, long ago and far away, I answered a knock at the door and found an FBI agent on my doorstep.  He had not made a mistake; he had indeed found the address he was looking for.  And why would a federal agent be looking for us? 
            About a week before, we had received a letter in the mail.  It bore no return address and when we opened it, we found a hand printed letter full of foul language and tons of misspelled words and bad grammar.  I will always remember the last line of that letter:  "If you don't get out of town, I will burn you out."
          We took it to the postmaster of the small town where we lived and, because sending a threatening letter in the US Mail is a federal crime, he called the FBI.  And that is why the agent knocked on our door that morning.  He had come from a larger town about 30 miles away. No warning—we had no idea he was coming, but that might have been a strategical move. 
           We spent about a half hour answering questions:  who we were, what we did, if we had any known enemies.  When he discovered that Keith was a preacher, his attitude seemed to soften a bit.  He began pointing out things in the letter that I, young and inexperienced, had not even noticed.  The misspellings and bad grammar were inconsistent.  The same word was misspelled a different way later in the letter.  One time the writer said, "isn't" and the next time "ain't." 
        "I really think it is someone trying to disguise himself because it is someone you know," he finally said.
         He eventually apologized as he left.  His hands were tied unless someone actually made an attempt to harm us or succeeded in doing so, especially since we had no idea who it might be.  We were supposed to call if anything happened, or we received another threat of any kind via any method.
            It happened to be a Wednesday.  That night we went to Bible study and Keith began talking about the letter.  Then he mentioned the federal agent who had come to our door, "Because sending threats in the mail is a federal crime, you know."  Most people crowded around to hear the story and expressed horror that we had received something like that.  We made sure they knew the letter was counted as evidence in the case and was still in the agent's hands.
           We never received another letter, phone call, or threat of any sort while we lived there.  Of course we cannot prove it, but we think someone in the church had his toes stepped on and was trying to run us off.  We wonder if we were making progress with some and that others were afraid their sins would be uncovered.
          "But," you say, astounded, "would a Christian really stoop so low as to issue what could be taken as a murder threat?"
           Just who was it who plotted to kill Jesus?  The very religious leaders who should have recognized who he was and followed him—scribes, Pharisees, priests.  When people do not like your message, they will go farther than even they would have ever imagined to get rid of the messenger.  We have been lied about more than once.  We have been kicked out precisely because of what was preached—it wasn't even denied. 
          How did "Hosanna" become "Crucify him" in a week's time?  Corrupt leadership, the Lord's demand for commitment, humility, and sacrifice, refusal to see the true nature of the kingdom, and a mob mentality that always strays far from the personal ethics one claims.
           Any of us can fall prey to this.  It's hard to hear that we need to change.  It's difficult to face up to our sins.  It's challenging to realize we have faulty expectations of the Lord and what He expects of us.  It's tough realizing you have been wrong about something your entire life.  The devil will take your heart and twist it to the point that you won't even see the wrong you are doing in retaliation.
          Whoever sent that threatening letter got a rude awakening when he found out the FBI was involved and he could go to prison for what he had done.  There is a far worse imprisonment than that when we blame the Message on the messenger.  Getting rid of him won't change your stance before your Maker.
 
“You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you always resist the Holy Spirit. As your fathers did, so do you. Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute? And they killed those who announced beforehand the coming of the Righteous One, whom you have now betrayed and murdered, you who received the law as delivered by angels and did not keep it.” (Acts 7:51-53)
 
Dene Ward
           

I remember those exciting mornings when, as a child, our parents woke us for an early start on a vacation trip.  It was dark and, even though it was summer in Florida, cool and damp.  Those were pre-seat belt days and often I would be carried straight out of bed and laid on the back seat, while my little sister got the back window.  Then we drove for several hours before the light finally woke us and we stopped for breakfast.
            We didn’t do much in the way of vacations—we couldn’t afford them.  Usually they were visits to distant family.  My parents left early so we had more driving time and avoided a motel bill, but those trips were still exciting.  We could not afford weekends away or trips to resorts or amusement parks, so any sort of trip was special.  And that breakfast out was special too because it was rare.  But we weren’t unusual—everyone lived that way.  Rising early for something that special was common to us all.
            We still have things we rise early for—work, school, a hunting trip, tailgating before a ball game, Black Friday, and yes, even leaving early for a vacation.  But do we ever rise up early for God?  Did you know that one of the hardest things for people to give up is their Sunday mornings?  At least it would seem that way when they skip the Bible study hour or at best swarm in at the last minute so they can get every extra minute possible of sleep.
            We are not living up to our heritage.  God’s people have always risen early to pray, to meditate, to worship.  Abraham (Gen 19:27), Jacob (Gen 28:18), Moses (Ex 24:4), and Job (1:5) all rose early to make sacrifices and meet with God.  Elkanah and his family rose early to travel to the tabernacle for the feast days (1 Sam 1:19).  Jesus rose early to go to the Temple (John 8:2) and so did the crowds who went to hear him.  It may not have been early when Jesus went to pray, but it was by the time he finished, having “prayed all night” (Luke 6:12). 
            The psalmist woke early to pray.  My eyes are awake before the watches of the night, that I may meditate on your promise. (Ps 119:148).  The Jews recognized three night watches, beginning at sunset the night before and ending at dawn the next morning.  It may have been a bit hyperbolic but if not, he evidently awoke before each one began just to pray.  How many times have you or I ever interrupted our sleep to pray as often as that?  How many times have we done it even once?
            Obviously, their prayers and their worship meant a lot to those faithful people.  Neither was viewed as a duty, but as a privilege and a pleasure, just as much a pleasure as that long awaited vacation trip that has us up and at it and ready to go before dawn.
             More than that, we should be gratefully rising early to serve a God who rose early to save us.  And now, because you have done all these works, says Jehovah, and I spoke unto you, rising up early and speaking, but you heard not; and I called you, but you answered not: (Jer 7:13)  Those words to a faithless people can apply to us too.
          Maybe the problem isn’t attitude, but a simple lack of preparation.  Maybe Saturdays should not be for wearing ourselves out and staying up late.  Maybe they should be, at least a little bit, about preparation for our worship together on Sunday mornings.  God went to a lot of trouble to prepare things for us.  It seems a small thing to ask to prepare ourselves physically and mentally for Him at least one day a week.
 
And…evening had come, since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath, (Mark 15:42).
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer, Matt Bassford.

I’m a simple man. I believe that the Bible is the inspired word of God and that it is sufficient to equip us for every good work. My favorite hymn is “Give Me the Bible”. Consequently, whenever I encounter a problem that afflicts the soul, I presume that the solution lies in learning and following the whole counsel of God.

This also leads me to raise an eyebrow when I see brethren coming up with extra- Biblical cures for spiritual ailments. The phenomenon occurs in several different areas, but it is perhaps most prominent in brotherhood teaching on marriage and family. Though marriage counseling based on secular wisdom varies greatly in quality, all of it pales in comparison to the word of God. If Christians want to treat such counseling as a side dish, fine, but they must not mistake it for the main course.

That main course consists of all Biblical teaching about human relationships. Too often, we behave as though the only texts about marriage are the ones that mention marriage: Ephesians 5:22-33, 1 Peter 3:1-7, and the like. Indeed, this apparent paucity of Scriptural material becomes justification for the use of material from elsewhere. We can't just go on preaching the same three marriage sermons, can we?

For those with eyes to see, the list of relevant passages is far longer. In fact, thousands of verses of Biblical ethics apply with greatest force in our marriages. If we can't seem to manage treating our spouses in a Christlike way, it calls into question the sincerity of our godliness in every other area of our lives. James would ask us if the same spring can send forth both sweet and bitter water. A bad marriage is a fundamental and potentially soul-destroying problem for at least one spouse.

Sadly, Christians in difficult marriages commonly use this truth as an opportunity to pin all the blame on the other spouse. I suspect that most of the time, brethren go to marriage counseling because they want to get their partner fixed. Almost always, they try DIY counseling and berate their husband or wife for perceived failings.

This is exactly backwards and dangerous besides. Christ does not call us to control others. He calls us to submit to His control.

He also warns us in Luke 6:37-38 that according to our standard of measure, it will be measured to us. We are on notice, then, that if we harshly judge our spouses, God will treat us the same way, only more so. Thus, unless we are James’ hypothetical perfect person, able to bridle both our tongues and our bodies, our desire to improve our marriages amounts to the familiar call to improve ourselves.

At this, thousands of voices cry out in outrage, “But what about them???” What about them, indeed? Conveniently, the Bible gives us instructions for how to handle a spouse who is not merely engaged in questionable behavior but is clearly and actively sinning. They appear in 1 Peter 3:1.

The way for a wife to win over a disobedient husband is by submission and godly living, all without a critical word being spoken. It is the way, not an occasional break from a campaign of nagging. Neither does this text exist to provide moral cover for a well-I-tried-that refusal to obey in the present and future. The passage addresses women specifically, but it is excellent advice for men as well.

Along similar lines, consider the relevance of Philippians 2:14 to marriage. It is one of the shocking verses in the Bible. Surely when Paul says, “Do all things without grumbling or disputing,” he is using hyperbole! He doesn't actually mean for us to do that!

It is not hyperbole. It is a commandment, and its edge is sharp. If you want a better marriage, you know what you can do? Don't dispute with your spouse. If they invite you to a fight, decline the invitation. Don't grumble to your spouse. Don't grumble about your spouse. If you obey, your marriage will be better, if only because it will contain less shouting.

There are many, many other passages with equally sharp edges that concern our marriages too. They are not easy to follow. In fact, they are quite difficult, which is why many Christians do not honor them. It is, alas, much easier to complain that our husband or wife is toxic, narcissistic, and gaslighting us.

Additionally, even if we do what is right, our godliness is not guaranteed to win over our spouse. Some Christians are married to people with hearts like rock. They will stubbornly pursue evil all the days of their lives to their ultimate destruction. If so, nothing we can do will change them.

We do not imitate Christ because it is effective in influencing others, though it is more effective than anything else. We imitate Him because it is right. Even if godliness does not lead to a better marriage, it invariably leads to glorifying God. When we are tested in our marriages, may He help us to steadfastly seek Him regardless!

Matt Bassford

We had been unhappy with our griddle for a good while, so Keith went online shopping and found an appliance called a Griddler, put out by Cuisinart.  This little contraption with two heating elements that can either lie flat next to each other or fold over on each other, and with four interchangeable plates, two of which are double-sided, can be a panini press, a grill pan, a waffle iron, or it can be opened flat and used as a griddle.
            It does have a few disadvantages.  Because of the two separate plates with an inch space between them, you can only fit four pancakes on it at once instead of six, but there are only two of us so that's no problem.  It seems to take longer for the pancakes to cook, too.  However, the panini we get are amazingly crisp and with the grill plates, you can grill both sides at once, making that process much faster. 
            The plates—flat, grill-marked, and waffled—are nonstick.  Boy, are they nonstick.  You want to know how I found out?
            When I pour pancake batter on this thing, I have no trouble at all.  Maybe it is because they immediately begin to cook and the batter is thick enough not to run.  But eggs are another thing entirely.  Evidently the side that is the "top" if you fold it, does not sit exactly flat when opened up.  It looks close enough that I did not realize that.
            One day we decided to have breakfast for dinner.  I preheated the pan and, just because my husband likes it that way, I put a teaspoon of bacon grease on the already slick surface.  Then I poured on the raw eggs. 
            Immediately the eggs slid over to the side of the pan.  Before I could move, one had slid onto the counter and down onto the floor—splat!--between my feet.  I managed by then to get my flipper flat end standing on the surface of the pan at the rim, but that didn't stop it fast enough.  All the eggs kept sliding, building up around my flipper edge until they started oozing around the sides of it and headed for the fall once again.  I grabbed another flipper and stood it up on the rim of the pan next to the first one to catch a larger portion of the running egg whites.
            Meanwhile, I started hollering, probably nothing intelligible.  At this point I was straddling one egg and holding two flippers erect trying to keep the rest of the eggs on the pan.  Keith came running and saw what was happening.  He grabbed some paper towels and knelt down between my feet to clean up the floor.  That meant I had to squat a bit to fit his shoulders in there.  I wish I had a picture—but then, maybe not.  Finally I could actually move my feet without stepping into eggs and sliding across the floor.  He grabbed one of the flippers while I raked a little of the now cooked egg white back from the lip of the pan with the other and made a nice little dam.  Another minute and I could flip the eggs over and they actually stayed put.
            We stepped back, a little winded, shaking our heads at what had just happened.  The two of us working together meant we had only lost one egg and, believe it or not, the others were cooked perfectly.
            Now imagine if he had looked over, seen what was happening and said, "That was a stupid thing to do."
            Or, "If you hadn't poured them out so quickly that wouldn't have happened."
            Or, "That's your job not mine."
            Or, "Someone else will take care of it."
            Or, "That's not my talent," and hadn't lifted a finger to help.
            We wouldn't have had dinner, and we would have probably lost far more than one egg.
            Too bad that's what happens in the church too often.  And it's deplorable that too often in our judgmental, self-serving apathy we lose far more than one soul-less little egg.
 
Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love. (Eph 4:15-16)
 
Dene Ward

As much time as I have spent in doctor's offices the past twenty years, I have learned a thing or two as we patients compare notes and experiences.  I have learned to trust my doctors simply because I had no choice.  Some of my conditions are so rare that I cannot even find them online to do any research to speak of, and that also means that few of us rare patients find ourselves in the same location at the same time—we are simply too scarce.  One scary thing I have learned is that doctors are not perfect, especially in the realm of the rare.  One just has to deal with it.  But so far, no one has made the wrong diagnosis, which in many cases could be catastrophic.  When you are treating the wrong ailment, the real one could be making advances that can never be undone.
            I thought of this while I was studying Mary and Martha recently.  I know, that probably leaves you scratching your head and saying, "What in the world…?"  What can I say?  My mind works in peculiar ways, especially when it is encumbered with impending medical tests, classes to be taught, and company coming all at the same time.
            So here are my crazy thoughts, in case you are interested.  Everyone, and by that I mean for the most part, anyone who stands in a pulpit and teaches that story in Luke 10, will diagnose Martha as "unspiritual."  I happened to be charting out the death of Lazarus in John 11 and was startled by what I believe the doctors might call "contraindications."  Look at the things she says to Jesus:
            Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you (John 11:21-22).  May I suggest that you go look at verse 32?  Mary said exactly the same thing—at least the first part.  The last part ("but even now…") was Martha's and Martha's only.  What did she have in mind?  A raising, perhaps?  After all, Jesus had raised two from the dead previously, the son of the widow of Nain and Jairus's daughter.  But then, this one was a bit different.  The others were either immediate or, per Jewish custom, on the same day as the death.  So maybe she wasn't quite sure, but I believe it must have crossed her mind.
            Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day (John 11:24).  This one shows her knowledge of scripture.  Even today many doubt that the Jews under the Old Law had any concept of life after death or Heaven.  How that is, I do not know.  Do you know the end of the Psalm 23?  And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.  Then we have this:  But as for me I know that my Redeemer lives, And at last he will stand up upon the earth: And after my skin, even this body, is destroyed, Then without my flesh shall I see God; Whom I, even I, shall see, on my side, And my eyes shall behold, and not as a stranger… (Job 19:25-27).  Martha obviously knew those verses, and that's not the half of it.
            She said to him, Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world (John 11:27).  What had Jesus been trying without much success to do for about three years at that point?  Prove he was the Messiah.  Martha got it, even when the most "religious" and "spiritual" among that generation did not.  I dare anyone to look at this conversation with her Lord and tell me seriously that she was not a spiritual person.
            Yes, Martha had a problem, but it was not what everyone says it was.  If you notice the first incident in Luke 10, Jesus did not rebuke her until she complained about her sister.  Then in the last incident recorded about this remarkable woman in John 12, what is she doing?  "…and Martha served…" John 12:2.  There she is again, doing exactly what she was doing in Luke 10 except for one thing—she was not complaining about her sister, who was once again at Jesus's feet, this time anointing both his head and his feet (check Matthew 26).  Martha had the same problem that a lot of strong spiritually-minded people have—she looked down on others who did not serve in the same way she did. 
            Paul takes on this attitude in the famous Romans 14 controversy and quashes both sides with this statement:  Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls…(Rom 14:4).  It wasn't Martha's business to decide what Mary needed to be doing.  It isn't my business to look across the building on Sunday morning and decide that since someone isn't doing the same sort of serving I am doing, then they are wrong and need to get up and help me.  For one thing, none of us really knows how much another is doing, and sometimes the things others do would have never crossed my mind to do.  We are all different people with different abilities and different offerings to make to the Lord.
            Let's not misdiagnose Martha.  She was indeed a spiritual woman.  She knew her scripture even though as a girl she would not have been sent to the synagogue schools beyond age 12, if that far.  (My sources vary on this.)  She learned it at home from her parents, at the synagogue on the Sabbath where the Scripture was read, and for those years she followed Jesus.  But Martha was impatient and, perhaps, judgmental.  With the Lord's help, she dealt with those things and seems to have conquered them for he did not rebuke her at the second occasion.  Do you suppose we could do the same?
 
There is only one lawgiver and judge, he who is able to save and to destroy. But who are you to judge your neighbor? Jas 4:12).
 
Dene Ward
 

I sat by the window the other morning watching the birds flit and fly as they visited my various feeders, sometimes sharing perches, other times chasing other birds away.  Eight to ten cardinals, over thirty-five sparrows, half a dozen titmice, a couple of wrens, eight goldfinches, a yellowthroat, and a red-bellied woodpecker flew in and out and around the feeders, somehow missing each other without the aid of the FAA and their air traffic controllers.  Even on the ground, the traffic grew thick as seven doves waddled in from the vine bed, weaving in and out of the birds who had given up on a seat at the feeders and sat below, feasting on the fallen birdseed.
            It was the middle of the coldest week of winter we have had here in North Florida in years, night time temperatures in the mid-teens, highs in the low forties.  The water in their water pans on top of the feeder posts froze solid.  Occasionally a cardinal landed, gazing at what used to be drinkable with a bereft look.  Eventually Keith, the big softie, took a boiling tea kettle outside and poured it on top of the frozen water.  At first, it just sluiced right off the ice, but finally began to melt it enough to give the birds something to drink, "on the rocks."  Times were hard for the bird population, and they needed our offer of birdseed, suet, and water, so they came freely and eagerly.
            Guess what happens in the summer?  The bird numbers dwindle significantly.  I only load the feeders once a week instead of every day.  I replace suet in the cages every month instead of every week.  When times are good, the seed eaters can find their own easily.  The carnivores don't need my block of suet so much.  And with the summer rains, puddles lie everywhere, and creeks run full.  Only three or four cardinals fly in with any regularity, and them just once a day.  Only the stodgy old doves come out of habit in the evenings.  I might see a titmouse or two at odd times, or maybe the new baby wrens who have been taught where to find an easy meal, but who will just as likely forsake us as soon as their wings are strong enough to take them further away. 
             And we, like the birds, fall prey to the good and easy times.  When we prosper, it's because of us, not because of God.  It's for us to use for ourselves, not for us to share with those less fortunate.  It's all about getting bigger and better, more and more, and God takes last place in any decision we make.  And sacrifice is for everyone else, all those fanatics who actually talk about God and make sacrifices proving their faith and devotion to Him.
             But when times are hard, boy, do we come running!  Now we pray, now we attend services so we can praise God and ask for help, for sustenance, for solutions to all our problems, in exactly the way we want them.  Not because we have suddenly become devoted servants of God, but because we need Him now.  When the good times return, we will be gone again, just like my birds.
          But here is one problem with that.  God does eventually run out of patience.  When we only want Him when times are rough, when we or someone we love has a grave illness, when the economy threatens the lifestyle we have grown accustomed to, someday, He will not give us the answer we want.  Instead He will say, as He did about the faithless Jews, As I called, and they would not hear, so they called, and I would not hear, says the LORD of hosts (Zech 7:13).
           I would love for my birds to throng my feeders all year long.  And I am sure that God would love for his children to do the same.  Perhaps we would do better to eat the seed of poverty than the seed of prosperity.  At least it looks that way out my window.
 
Take care lest you forget the LORD your God by not keeping his commandments and his rules and his statutes, which I command you today, lest, when you have eaten and are full and have built good houses and live in them, and when your herds and flocks multiply and your silver and gold is multiplied and all that you have is multiplied, then your heart be lifted up, and you forget the LORD your God… (Deut 8:11-14).
 
Dene Ward