The day after a camping trip is my least favorite.  It isn’t just that the fun is over.  It isn’t just the unpacking and the piles of extra-dirty laundry.  It’s the complete lack of order in the house.
            The linens box, the pots and dishes box, the two food boxes, the tent and sleeping bag box, the boxes of gas canisters, batteries, light bulbs, extension cords, insect repellent, clothesline and clothespins, books and Bibles, along with the tool box, first aid kit, two suitcases and two coolers lie stacked or scattered on the carport and porch, in the kitchen and living room.  Although the linens are all camp linens, no longer used on an everyday basis, they must all be washed—and bleached—before I can put them away.  Everything else must be sorted through.  Some stay packed with the camping gear and others are returned to their regular homes in the pantry, on a shelf, in a cabinet, or in the shed.  The tent must be set up in the field to finish drying and sleeping bags hung to air out.  It is often two or three days before my home is back in order.
            Over the past few years, I have learned to accept a little less order.  Keith’s idea of order does not match mine, but he has had to take over the housekeeping several times so guess whose sense of order reigns then?  But when I go into the shed looking for the garden trowel, I can never find it while he knows exactly where it is.  In fact, he wants the item put right back where I got it, even if it doesn’t make sense to me because of his sense of order.  I learned a long time ago not to touch the top of his dresser, no matter how much it aggravates me.
            We each have a sense of order—no matter how messy others might think it—and we don’t want people rearranging things.  Why do we think God wants us messing with His sense of order?
            God’s sense of order has always had a reason, and while my sense of order is nothing but a selfish desire to keep things the way I want them, God’s sense of order is always for our good.
            The order he imposes upon our assemblies is for the ease of edification.  Camp awhile in 1 Corinthians 14.  If there is no interpreter, don’t speak in tongues because no one will be edified (vv 15-19), and visitors will simply be confused (v 23).  If more than one of you has a revelation, take turns so people can be edified rather than confused by the chaos of more than one speaking at a time (vv 27-28).  Women should not be asking questions to put their husbands forward, when some other topic might be more important to the group at that time (vv 34-35).  Surely we can see applications to today’s assemblies in all of that.  God’s sense of order isn’t about who gets the most floor time, or how much we are entertained—it’s about how much edification occurs.
            God’s sense of order for our lives helps us live happier, safer, and healthier.  We take better care of our bodies, our relationships, and our minds when we follow His order.  Even the ordinances that seemed to have nothing to do with us reinforce the goodness, the righteousness, and the holiness of God—things that are important to making us fit for an eternal life with a spiritual and holy Deity.
            “Surely God wouldn’t mind” presumptuously ignores the fact that the Creator is the only one with the right to impose order in our worship of Him and in our lives of service to Him.  “But I like it this way,” is simply selfishness and a slap in the face to God who has given everything to make it possible to be with Him forever.
            God doesn’t really care if I keep my spare items on the bottom shelf of the pantry and the things actively in use at eye level.  It doesn’t matter to Him that Keith keeps all the garden sprays and powders to the left of the middle pillar on the third shelf.  But the order He does care about, should be my first concern too.  In those things, God’s sense of order is the only one that matters.
 
And by this we know that we have come to know him, if we keep his commandments. Whoever says "I know him" but does not keep his commandments is a liar, and the truth is not in him, 1 John 2:3-4.
 
Dene Ward

It’s happened twice now.  I leave my campsite loaded down with shower gear and clean clothes, only to walk into what should be a sanctuary for women only and find a couple of little boys running around—not three year olds, mind you, but boys who are well into grade school, probably 8 or 9.
            A campground bathhouse is a bit like a locker room.  Yes, there are shower stalls with curtains, but often the dressing area in those stalls becomes nearly as wet as the tiles behind the shower itself.  Sometimes you have to open the curtain so you can step out and put on your jeans without dragging them through a puddle.  On our last trip a woman came marching out of the stall in her jeans and bra, flapping her arms and exclaiming how hot it was.  What would have happened if those two little boys had been in there then?
            Even the little boys cared.  They were showering when I came in to brush my teeth late one night.  Their mother had all their clothes piled in a far corner of the room. 
            “Come on out,” she called through the shower curtain.
            “But there’s a woman out there,” the older boy said.
            “I’m sure she’s seen it before,” she hollered back, and suddenly in the mirror I saw a naked child streaking behind me.  For his sake I kept my eyes averted from the embarrassed little boy crouching behind the sinks.  If it bothers the boys, surely that’s the time to put them in the men’s bathhouse, isn’t it?
            Then I got an even bigger shock.  “I’ll be right back,” the mom told the boys.  “I have to take this to your dad.”
            Dad?  Why didn’t Dad have them in the men’s bathhouse to begin with?  No, dad was absent, as so many are these days, watching TV in the trailer by the satellite dish he had hauled along on a two night camping trip on top of a beautiful mountain.  I wonder if he ever noticed the scenery, much less his sons. 
            My boys were blessed to have a father who took his role seriously.  He didn’t leave everything to me until they got “bigger.”  He changed diapers.  He rolled around on the floor with them.  He played every ball game in season, even when they weren’t very good at it yet.  He read the Bible to them every morning while they ate breakfast, and a Bible story every night before bed, even before they were able to understand what he was reading.  Nearly every night he was the one who gave them their baths so I had time to clean up the supper dishes.  And yes, he took them into the men’s bathhouse whenever we camped, which began when Nathan was only four.
            For awhile Keith worked nights.  He would not have seen the boys except right before school and on weekends, but he got up early every morning, despite his late hours, to walk them to the bus stop.  He left them notes in the middle of the table every day, pieces of advice, Bible verses to memorize before the weekend, and always an “I love you.”  They usually ran straight for the table when the bus dropped them off, and I still have a notebook with those little yellow notes taped to the pages.  It wasn’t long before he changed jobs, taking one at far less salary because being with his boys was more important than money.
            Fathers, you have a more important calling than the one that pays your bills.  Boys need to know what it takes to be a man of God.  Girls need to see the kind of man they should look for one day.  If all you do is let mama handle things till they get a little bigger, you are missing the most precious years of their lives.  You still won’t have a relationship with your child, because you didn’t build one when the building came naturally.  They won’t trust you to really care, and no one will much blame them.
 
And you fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord, Ephesians 6:4.
 
Dene Ward

Imagine for a minute that you are vacationing in a five star resort for which you have paid big money, more than you probably should have.  The flimsy shower curtain doesn’t quite reach side to side in the bathtub, the shower stream is thin and continues to drip after you turn it off.  The room is so cold you have to dress at the speed of light.  There is no television, telephone, refrigerator, or microwave, and the bed is hard.  No toiletries are offered, no room service, and you even have to carry your own linens with you.  How happy would you be?  You would probably not have lasted one night before you demanded your money back.
            Campers put up with all of that, particularly tent campers, and they have a fine old time.  They understand going in what to expect, especially since they are paying a fraction of the amount of even a moderately priced motel.  Even when the weather is dismal, they seldom complain.  You take your chances when you live outdoors for a week.  Isn’t it interesting that the same circumstances can produce both happy people and unhappy people?
            We only wrote one letter of complaint in over 30 years of camping.  Even campers in a state park campground have every right to expect a well-drained campsite.  When it rained our last night there, not only did the site not drain well, it collected water from all the surrounding sites.  We woke up in a pool of water.  The tent floor billowed up around us when we took a step.  At least it was waterproof, or the thousands of dollars worth of Keith’s hearing paraphernalia that we keep charging in the floor overnight (since there is no furniture in a tent) would have been ruined.
            But we didn’t complain because of the rain.  We didn’t complain because it was cold enough for a foot high icicle to form under the water spigot.  We didn’t complain because the wind blew our light pole over, or the bathhouse only had two shower stalls for the whole campground.  That’s what you expect when you camp.  At least there was a bathhouse with hot running water and a heater in it!
            It doesn’t take much to be a happy camper.  Maybe that’s why God has always warned his people about a life of ease.  Take care 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…(Deuteronomy 8:11-14).
            Our lives on this earth are often depicted as camping.  We are sojourners.  We are just passing through.  Or are we?  How much do we take for granted in these days of luxury?  Every so often I remind myself to thank God for the running water, for the electricity, for the air conditioning.  I have lost them often enough, and for long enough at times, to remember that they don’t just happen; they aren’t “inalienable rights”—they are blessings.
            Ask people today what is on their list of necessities and it will scare you to death.  An easy life makes a soft people.  Self-discipline disappears.  The ability to endure hardship is practically non-existent.  Complaining becomes an art form, and my problems are always someone else’s fault.  The worst result is the pride that causes us to forget God, Prov 30:8,9.
            The results of trials and afflictions, on the other hand, are good, Deut 8:15,16; Psa 126:5,6; 1 Pet 1:6-8; 4:13,14. They make us stronger; they remind us who is in control, and build our faith and dependence upon God.  They remind us of the love God has for his children.  I know, O Lord, that your rules are righteous, that in faithfulness you have afflicted me, Psa 119:75. 
            A parent who never says no, who never makes his child earn anything with his own hard work, who always gets him out of trouble instead of allowing him to reap the consequences of his mistakes, is not a faithful, loving parent.  These things build character.  Wealth doesn’t.  Luxury doesn’t.  Anyone who “needs” that to be happy will never in this life be a happy camper.
 
As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty, nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life. 1 Timothy 6:17-19
 
Dene Ward

Last year we made a distressing discovery—the seam sealing tape on the rain fly to our tent had come loose.  Unfortunately, we made this discovery in the middle of the night during a driving rainstorm when water suddenly began pouring on us as we lay in our sleeping bags.
            So before our latest camping trip, we pulled out the fly and set about resealing the tape.  We found out that not all the tape had come undone, just the places where more stress was put on the fly—at the staking points and over the top where it stretched tightly across the tent poles.  I suppose that makes sense.  After all, where is it that your pants are more likely to rip but where and when you stretch those seams the most?  In the back when you bend over.
            That brought to mind the disciples’ request for the Lord to “Increase our faith.”  I had always thought of this as a simple request, sort of a “Help me get better” generic prayer.  Suddenly I thought to check the context.  Maybe there was a reason for the request, maybe those men were under some sort of stress.  So I looked up Luke 17:5 and checked the verses immediately ahead of that one.
            Stress?  Jesus had just given them a laundry list of commands that would have stressed anyone out.
            “Temptation is sure to come,” he begins in verse 1.  Not “may come” or even “will probably come,” but “sure to come.”  If ever a Christian feels stress it is during temptation.  Yes, I think I might need increased faith to handle those times. 
            Then he goes on to talk about those who cause others to stumble.  I suppose nothing stresses me out more than worrying about how what I say or do may affect others, especially since I teach and write so much.  Yes, I need more faith to keep teaching and keep writing, especially when I receive negative reactions or hear of someone who misused what I have said, and even more when I realize I have made a careless word choice.
            Then Jesus tells them to forgive, even if the same person does the same thing over and over and over and over.  This is where, in an almost comedic outcry, we hear them shout, “Lord!  Increase our faith!”  As often as those same men misunderstood and failed to comprehend Jesus’ teaching, they certainly understood the need for faith when it comes to mercy and forgiveness.  We really haven’t reached the pinnacle of that Divine trait until we can say, “I forgive you,” without adding or even thinking, “Again.”
            Look up the other places where we are told to strengthen or increase or add to our faith and you will discover other areas of stress that could trip you up—times when divisions occur, when sinful desires rear their ugly heads, when we need to love the unlovable, when we are told to obey whether we understand it or not.  All of these things can create stress in our lives, and endanger our souls.
            “Pay attention to yourselves,” Jesus told those men in the midst of his teaching (v 3).  Don’t be caught unawares in the middle of a storm.  “Increase your faith” and so be prepared. 
 
We ought always to give thanks to God for you, brothers, as is right, because your faith is growing abundantly, and the love of every one of you for one another is increasing. Therefore we ourselves boast about you in the churches of God for your steadfastness and faith in all your persecutions and in the afflictions that you are enduring. This is evidence of the righteous judgment of God, that you may be considered worthy of the kingdom of God, for which you are also suffering-- 2 Thessalonians 1:3-5.   
 
Dene Ward

Several years back we camped at Cloudland Canyon one autumn week, enjoying the new varieties of bird, the mountains carpeted with fall colors, and the spectacle every morning of clouds wafting through the campground from the cliffs just beyond it, cliffs high enough to look down on hawks as they soared by. 
            The neighbors twenty yards away were a small family, a man, his wife, and two little boys, the older about 7 or 8, and the younger just barely past the toddler years.  This was obviously a planned family outing, one that probably didn’t happen very often but that the parents were determined to make a good experience.  They did everything in a planned and almost regimented fashion.  “It’s time to light the fire.”  “Now it’s time to tell ghost stories.”  “Now it’s time to roast marshmallows.”  In between all this, the mother was on her cell phone every hour or so, sometimes for as long as a half hour, seeing to her business. 
            And both parents became impatient at the drop of a hat.  If the boys didn’t react to every activity as they thought they should, they became frustrated and almost angry.  (Who should be surprised if a ghost story terrified a four year old?)  They had mistaken the stereotype of a camping trip for the spontaneous fun of the real thing.  They had probably fallen for that “quality time” myth.
            And because we can’t seem to stop helping out, we offered them a few things, like some lighter wood to help get those campfires going more easily, and we occasionally stopped by on the way back and forth from the bathhouse, to talk and reminisce with them about the times when our two boys were that age.  They seemed appreciative, especially the father, who, we discovered when we got closer, was about 20 years older than the usual father of boys that age, and quite a few years older than the mother.
            As we talked we noticed that the older boy always wore Baylor tee shirts and sweat shirts and had a Baylor hat, so Keith talked to him some about football and asked how Baylor was doing.  The father sighed and said, “He doesn’t know anything about Baylor football.  He just likes the color green.”
            They left after just a weekend, and it sounded like they were leaving one night early, perhaps disappointed that this hadn’t turned out quite like they had expected. 
            You can learn a lot yourselves, just considering this family.  It’s always easier to judge from a distance.  But that little boy can teach us all something today.  Why is it that you assemble where you do?  Why did you choose that place?
            We would all understand the fallacy of going to the handiest place, regardless what they taught.  But how about this:  Do you go where you are needed, or to the place considered the most popular in the area, the most sociable, the one where you wouldn’t mind having people see you standing outside hobnobbing?  Do you go where the work is hard or where the singing is good?  Do you go where the preaching is entertaining or where the teaching is scriptural and plain?  Do you go expecting the church to do for you, or because you want to do for them?
            Too many Christians look upon a church in a proprietary way, as if they had the right to judge everything about it and everyone in it, especially the superficial things—the singing, the preaching, the way the people dress and their occupations and connections in the world.  The way some people choose congregations, they might as well go because they like the color green. 
            The church belongs to Christ, that’s what “church of Christ” means.  It belongs to God, that’s what “church of God” means.  Christ’s church is there to give me an outlet for my service and a source of encouragement toward doing that service.  It is not there to serve me and my preferences. 
            Someday that little boy will grow up and learn to examine the football programs he roots for, choosing them for their character and integrity instead of their colors.  Maybe it’s time we grew up with him.
 
Show hospitality to one another without grumbling. As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace: whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies—in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen. 1 Pet 4:9-13  

The way we camp now is considerably different than the way we started.  The first year, when the boys were 4 and 6, we left on a 10 day trip with two suitcases, one tent, a camp stove, a propane lantern, and a couple of pots stuffed into our car trunk.  What we have now fills the back of a camper-topped pickup to the brim.  When Lucas went with us for the first time in nearly 20 years, he smirked and said, “You guys don’t rough it.  You camp in style.”
            Yes, we put a screen over the table now so we can eat without bugs, and even in the rain.  We have a larger tent, and pull an extension cord in through one of the zipped windows to plug into an electric blanket and stuff it inside the double sleeping bag.  Since we camp in the fall and winter that only makes good sense.  So does the queen-size eighteen inch high air mattress—getting up off the ground is not so easy any more.
            Keith designed and rigged up a PVC-pipe light pole from which we hang a couple of trouble lights, and we sit in our outdoor lounge chairs by the fire now, instead of always at the table.  We carry a couple of wooden tray tables to hold our coffee cups and the books we are reading.
            We have two stoves now instead of just one, but since they are only two burner stoves and you run out of room when breakfast includes pancakes and sausage on a two burner griddle and a stovetop coffeepot, that has become a necessity too.  I also found a folding rack that hooks to the side of the picnic table to hold things like paper towels, antibacterial wipes, dishwashing liquid, and salt and pepper so we have more room on the table itself.
            Yes, we camp “in style” now, but I would still never leave my modest home to do it all the time.  Eight to ten days a year is fun because it is different, but every day would be a pain in the neck, especially considering the relative luxury I am used to.
            I think we miss the first, and huge, sacrifice Abraham and Sarah made.  Our arrogance tells us they were primitive people anyway, so what was the big deal when God called them?  Here is the big deal:  God called them out of Ur, a thriving metropolis for its time.  One book I read said the city had its own educational system and some form of running water. 
            Abraham was a wealthy man.  He had an entourage of servants that included an army of 318 trained men (Gen 14:14).  Whenever he arrived at a new place with his thousands of flocks and herds and hundreds of servants, the kings wanted to meet him.  Undoubtedly, they were anxious to know why he was there, and not a little afraid of the possible reason.  Especially in a small city-state like Gerar, Abimelech had reason to worry—Abraham’s army might actually have been bigger than his!  Imagine the home they must have lived in, and the status that wealthy couple must have enjoyed before they left Ur.
            Yet when God said go, Abraham and Sarah went.  They left a fine home in a then-modern city to wander in places they were only promised and often unwelcome.  I imagine they “camped in style” for the time, far better than the desert nomads because of their wealth, but it was still camping.  No more running water--even the kind they had back then--constantly subject to the weather, sand in your clothes and probably in your food if the wind blew wrong.  Can you imagine Bill Gates leaving his various homes to live in an RV for the rest of his life, much less a tent?  Do you think they would do it even if it were the best RV money could buy?  Even if he had a caravan of RVs behind him, holding his most important employees?  And especially if he had to do it in a foreign country less advanced than ours?
            I don’t see that happening.  Even with your less than Gates-esque dwelling, would you give up your own cozy bedroom, where you could walk a few steps to the bathroom in the middle of the night should you need to?  Where you could stay warm and dry regardless the weather?  Where you have places to store all your “stuff?”  Where you have a job and financial security, and a place in a community that accepts you?
            Abraham and Sarah had a long way to go in more ways than one when God called them.  Yet God saw in them a faith that would grow and a trust that would never give up.  He believed that with his tender cultivation, Abraham would become “the father of the faithful,” and Sarah the mother of all godly women and the “princess” through whom the King of kings would eventually be born.
            What do you think God sees in you?  Do you have that potential?  He thinks so or he never would have sent his Son to die for you.  Here is the test for today:  would he have even bothered to tell me to pick up and go, or am I too tied to this world and its luxuries?  He may never ask you to give it all up, but he must see in you a willingness to do so if the need arises. 
            If he does call and you go, God may allow you, like Abraham and Sarah, to camp in style, but it’s still camping.  He expects you to understand that the real home is ahead of you.
 
So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple. Luke 14:33
 
Dene Ward

Our last camping trip sent me home with legs chapped to a medium rare pink, an abrasion ring around both ankles from my trail shoes rubbing on the heavy wool socks, and dry, crackly lips and nostrils.  Did I say it was cold?  The rangers told us to leave the spigot dripping and the first morning we came out of tent to find a foot tall column of ice beneath it. 
            The forecast the week before did not prepare us for that weather.  It was only when we were on our way that it changed.  So why did we keep going rather than turning back?  Because if we hadn’t I would have missed waking to a couple of wrens serenading one another in the trees over our tent every morning.  I would never have marveled at a dry floodplain studded with knobby cypress knees, and carpeted in white rain lilies and patches of bright yellow marsh marigolds.  I never would have seen the family of deer traipsing through the woods ahead of us, then literally hightailing it off when they caught sight of our movements, white flag tails bouncing in the woodland shadows.
            Sometimes being a Christian, like camping, is filled with all sorts of trials, everything from the triviality of abrasion rings on the ankles to greater problems of becoming lost in the woods and wondering if you will find your way out before you freeze to death in the cold night.  But God tells us over and over that it is worth it.  You will never have the experiences you have as a Christian any other way.
            There is something almost magical about walking into a meetinghouse a thousand miles away from home and meeting people who instantly care about you and your problems.  Does anyone else in the world have this blessing?  Anywhere you go, you find people who will help you, even if they have never heard your name before.
            Jesus said, "Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for my sake and for the gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children…(Mar 10:29-30).
            Many times I have been made to feel uncomfortable, even disliked, because of my faith.  I haven’t yet experienced what we think of as full-blown persecution, but even small things can weigh on your mind and cause you to waver when they happen again and again.  Yet Christians are blessed with Divine help and comforting knowledge when that happens.
            So we can confidently say, "The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?" (Heb 13:6)
            And now as I grow older and face trying times I still have something that others do not.  How can they face serious illnesses thinking this is all there is?  How can they face the death of loved ones thinking they will never see them again?  How can they look death in the eye with dignity and grace when in their minds they will simply cease to exist?
            But we would not have you ignorant, brethren, concerning them that fall asleep; that you sorrow not, even as the rest, who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also that are fallen asleep in Jesus will God bring with him. (1Th 4:13-14)
            For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. But when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy victory? O death, where is thy sting? The sting of death is sin; and the power of sin is the law: but thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (1Co 15:53-57)
            So yes, the trip was a little uncomfortable this time, especially when the rain started the morning we had to pack up and created a puddle two to four inches deep over half the campsite—including under the tent!  But we experienced plenty to offset the bad memories.  Far beyond that, if you remain faithful to God, I have no doubt that, regardless how unpleasant your life or your exit from it, when you wake up in eternal glory, you will shout from on high, “It was worth it!”
 
For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory which shall be revealed to us (Rom 8:18).
 
Dene Ward
 

Our last camping trip was typical—it rained on Tuesday.  However, the rain came with a slight variation this time. 
            We managed to get through all the daylight hours with clear sunny skies as we tramped all over Lookout Mountain and Chickamauga battlefield.  In fact, if it had not been for the exorbitant parking meters, we could have made any of the 2-7 mile hikes featured on the brochure we picked up without getting wet.
            So we headed back to the campsite for grilled half-pound burgers, potato salad, and baked beans.  We even managed to wash the dishes and get our evening showers.  Then, as we sat by the fire, the lightning lit up the sky, silhouetting the trees around us.  Fifteen minutes later the first raindrop fell and we scampered into the screen tent to finish our evening at the picnic table, reading, studying for Bible classes, and doing crossword puzzles.
            The next morning the rain had stopped, but it was still gray and damp.  By afternoon the wind picked up and cooled off, but the front had not yet passed.  The gray skies continued and a mist, too heavy for sitting by the fire with a book, filled the air around us.  Once again we were relegated to the screen, and as we sat at the table in the cold, damp wind, we became more and more miserable.  Ordinarily, sitting by the fire will keep you warm enough, along with the several layers of clothing we pile on, but the mist made that solution impossible.  We were soon wrapped in blankets struggling to keep our minds on our studies.  Before long, we gave up and crawled into the tent and sleeping bags.  Finally we were warm enough.
            The next morning we woke to more gray skies, but after breakfast, the sun peeked through.  As I walked to the bathhouse to brush my teeth, I took a moment to look straight up between the treetops—a bright cerulean sky everywhere!  I did my own version of Snoopy’s happy dance, holding out my arms and twirling in a circle—yessssss!!!!
            Funny how such a simple thing can make you so happy.  I had been reduced to living at the mercy of nature instead of climate controlled technology, and had suddenly developed a deep appreciation for something as simple as a sunny day.  The temperatures plummeted that night, the coldest we had all week, but we were able to sit by a fire and appreciated it far more than we would have a hotel room because of what we had endured the night before.  In fact, when we got home, our humble dwelling seemed a palace.
            I have contemplated this phenomenon often, usually right after we return from a camping trip. Have we let our technologically advanced, richer-than-ever society spoil us to the appreciation of the necessities of life God has granted us?  Would anyone ever do a “happy dance” for a blue sky, or does it have to be a trip to Disneyworld, a new Mercedes, or a new gadget that keeps us from having to think too hard, organize our lives for ourselves, or pick up a phone book?
            The early Christians rejoiced in things we would complain about, or even lose our faith over.  For you had compassion on those in prison, and you joyfully accepted the plundering of your property, since you knew that you yourselves had a better possession and an abiding one. Heb 10:34.  They therefore departed from the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the Name. Acts 5:41.  Would we be able to do a happy dance about those things?
            Those Christians, very new Christians in fact, knew that trials were a good thing.  They made them stronger, they made priorities obvious, they made them notice and appreciate their blessings as they should.  Those people understood that sin never satisfies, that the sinner will only “wax worse and worse,” as he seeks to find joy in debauchery, selfishness, and the fulfillment of every lust.  But the joy of being in Christ will fulfill the soul no matter what is happening on the outside, no matter what the body must put up with, no matter the pain, suffering, or even death that awaits us.
            Have you done a happy dance lately?  Should I ask what made you so happy?  How long has that happiness lasted, and what other feelings did that “thing” eventually bring?  Sin, or even material things that are not necessarily sinful, will only satisfy for a moment.  Wouldn’t you like to be doing a happy dance forever?
 
Do you not know this from of old, since man was placed on earth, that the exulting of the wicked is short, and the joy of the godless but for a moment? He will fly away like a dream and not be found; he will be chased away like a vision of the night. Because he knew no contentment in his belly, he will not let anything in which he delights escape him. There was nothing left after he had eaten; therefore his prosperity will not endure. In the fullness of his sufficiency he will be in distress…The possessions of his house will be carried away, dragged off in the day of God's wrath. This is the wicked man's portion from God, the heritage decreed for him by God. Job 20: 4,5,8,20-22,28-29.
 
Dene Ward
 

I think maybe I have discovered something that will help me a lot.
            The best cup of coffee is not the four-dollar, imported-from-some-exotic-place, freshly roasted, even more freshly ground cup you get at that boutique coffee shop.  The best cup of coffee is the one you drink from a cracked ceramic cup in front of a campfire on a chilly morning, the smell of bacon mingling with the smoke from that same wood fire and the vapors of the coffee, maybe even a few drops of bitter oils floating on top of it because the propane camp stove is harder to control and sometimes the coffee comes just a little too close to a simmer.  When you are cold, nothing tastes better than something warm. 
            Even tomato soup from that red and white can tastes pretty good.  It doesn’t matter if the seasoning is not well-balanced (too much sugar and salt and little else).  It doesn’t matter if there is no complex depth of flavor, just candied tomatoes and tin can.  Those niggling little details make no difference to you at that moment.  It’s warm and you appreciate that.  If you have never been truly cold, so cold that your insides quiver and you can hardly make your hands work and keep your mind functioning, you have never tasted a truly good cup of coffee or a good bowl of soup, no matter how much either cost you, or how many gourmets raved about it.
            So why will that help me get through life?  Just think about this:  How do people who have a terrible disease, or who have experienced one calamity after the other, or who are unfairly oppressed for their beliefs, or who come within inches of death, still smile and laugh, still enjoy life and keep their faith?  Because when you have a REAL problem, suddenly you understand what is important.  You are able to find pleasure in the little things.  You can feel joy in watching a sunset.  You can find happiness in seeing children play.  You can experience contentment in even just one moment of normalcy. You can enjoy peace in the company of those who love you, even if they are not perfect.  Suddenly their imperfections become insignificant.
            I cannot think of any instance where griping is anything but a sign of ingratitude.  When we whine about the inconsequential things, when we complain about the traffic, the weather, the petty grievances against others and the annoyances of life, then maybe we need a catastrophe to wake us up to what really matters.  Sadly, that is often what it takes to get our priorities in order.  Some things are just more important than others but, just as it takes a nearly hypothermic person to enjoy what he might ordinarily consider a mediocre cup of coffee, it often takes a disaster to force us to recognize how blessed we truly are. 
            We could be even happier if we did not always have to learn that the hard way.
 
Behold, what I have seen to be good and fitting is to eat and drink and find enjoyment in all the toil with which one toils under the sun the few days of his life that God has given him, for this is his lot.  Everyone also to whom God has given wealth and possessions and power to enjoy them, and to accept his lot and rejoice in his toil -- this is the gift of God.  For he will not much remember [brood about] the days of his life because God keeps him occupied with joy in his heart Eccl 5:18-20.
 
Dene Ward

A landmark is defined as an artificial or natural object or feature of a landscape that stands out, is visible from a distance, and helps establish one's location.  If ever a landmark does that it is the St Louis Arch.  Officially called the Gateway Arch as part of the Gateway Arch National Park, it stands 630 feet high along the banks of the Mississippi River.  It was designed by Eero Saarinen, begun on February 12, 1963, and completed on October 28, 1965.
            Also called, "The Gateway to the West," it was designed to memorialize the pioneers who traveled to and civilized the West, and to denote St Louis as their official jumping off point.  Other notable events are also commemorated in the entire park, which stretches to the Old Courthouse—brave explorers, women's rights, and civil rights among them.  The arch is the most visited tourist attraction in the world.  All in all, the St Louis Gateway Arch amply qualifies as a landmark.
          Landmarks are important.  When we go on a one week camping vacation, we always stay Saturday night in a hotel in the closest town we can find with a church.  There are seldom any groups of God’s people within 50 miles of a mountain campground, and many of these are small groups.  A couple of times Keith has even preached for them.
            One time we were returning to the same area two years in a row and he was able to make those preaching arrangements ahead of time.  We wanted to be sure we were on time so those poor brethren would not be frantic, but we had accidentally left the directions at home.  So we asked the hotel desk clerk to Google the church website for the address and meeting times.  When he did, all three of us were in for a surprise.
            He gave us the address then said, “6429?  I grew up at 6425 on the same street.  I know where that church is.  It’s two doors down from my dad.”
            Yet he had not recognized the “name.”  He did not know the service times, which were posted on the sign when we got there.  He didn’t know they had a website, though a large banner promoting it hung outside the building.  So much for the importance of “signs.”  He was in his mid-20s, had grown up practically next door, and knew none of those things.  Do you know why?  Because he didn’t know the names of any who assembled in that building.
            The building does not draw people.
            The sign does not draw people.
            The website does not draw people.
            All those things are for people who are already looking, many of whom even know what they are looking for--like Christians traveling through on vacation.  Since when is the mission of the church to make sure that traveling brethren can find us? 
            The gospel is what draws people, but as Paul asks in Romans 10:14, how shall they hear without a preacher?  Since we no longer have miracles to “confirm the word,” the world has to know us and know our lives before they will listen.
            It took me years to learn to talk about my wonderful brothers and sisters instead of just spouting scriptures or waiting for someone to ask me a Bible question.  I have invited many to services and to Bible studies, but forgot to tell them that being with these people was half the reason for going and in the beginning, it might be their main reason for wanting to come back.  And I forgot to tell them how much better my life was simply for allowing the Lord to lead my way.  I was too busy making sure I had some scriptures memorized for appropriate occasions and waiting for those circumstances to somehow pop up on their own.
            What does your meetinghouse mean to the neighborhood it sits in?  Do they know anything about you?  Even if all they think is, “Those people believe you have to follow the Bible exactly,” that’s better than nothing.  It means they have had contact with a person, not just a sign or a building.
            Don’t let your meetinghouse be nothing more than a landmark.  The church is supposed to show people the way.  “Go past the church and we are the second house on the right,” is not what the Lord had in mind.
 
 From you has sounded forth the word of the Lord, not only in Macedonia and Achaia, but in every place your faith to God-ward is gone forth…1 Thes 1:8.   
The righteous is a guide to his neighbor…Prov 12:26.  
 
Dene Ward