A few years ago when we were babysitting, the first afternoon that we picked up Silas from kindergarten, he came rushing out to the car shouting, “I got purple!  I got purple!”
  
               In his school every child starts the day on green, and his behavior moves him either up the color chart to blue and ultimately purple, or down the chart to yellow, orange, or red.  Red means mom and dad have to come in for a serious talk.  Usually all the obedient, well-behaved students end up on blue, and everyone is perfectly satisfied with it.  But purple?  Purple takes something extra-special.  It is the height of achievement for a student.  No wonder he came out running, shouting, and grinning a smile as wide as our windshield as we watched him through it.

              Why is it that I can’t have the same glee, the same sense of accomplishment and exhilaration when I overcome a temptation or grow out of a bad attitude?  Why don’t we all come running to share the good news with one another?  I’ll tell you why—because we are a bunch of judgmental grumps that’s why.  Two things are going to happen if anyone opens his mouth about these things.

              First, someone is going to gasp and whisper to another, “You mean he has trouble with that sin?”  We can’t share our accomplishments when we are afraid people will look down on us, will lose respect for us, and will probably gossip about us at the first chance they get.  “Did you hear about so-and-so?  Did you know he has these problems?”

              Second, someone else will puff out his chest and say, “Tsk, tsk.  Let him who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall!”  We can’t share our successes without someone thinking they have to knock us down a peg because of our “pride,” as they so hastily judge it. 

              In both of these cases, shame, shame, shame on us!  Those are unscriptural, even sinful attitudes.  Gossip, which is nothing less than slander, is included in that horrible list of sins at the end of Romans 1.  And what in the world do we think it means to “Encourage one another?”  It means when a pat on the back has been earned, give it!  Don’t hoard it with the self-righteous notion that we are doing what is best for the person’s soul—“wouldn’t want him to get the big head.”  Would you do that with your children?  Would you never praise them for their successes, but only criticize their mistakes? 

              AA doesn’t do it, and God doesn’t do that either.  And the LORD said to Satan, “Have you considered my servant Job, that there is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil?”  Job 1:8.

              The Psalms are full of statements by people of God who know they have done right.  The LORD dealt with me according to my righteousness; according to the cleanness of my hands he rewarded me. For I have kept the ways of the LORD, and have not wickedly departed from my God. For all his rules were before me, and his statutes I did not put away from me. I was blameless before him, and I kept myself from my guilt. So the LORD has rewarded me according to my righteousness, according to the cleanness of my hands in his sight, Psalm 18:20-24.

              Don’t tell me it’s because the Old Testament people did not understand grace and were all about “earning” their salvation by keeping the Law.  “Do not say in your heart, after the LORD your God has thrust them out before you, ‘It is because of my righteousness that the LORD has brought me in to possess this land,’ whereas it is because of the wickedness of these nations that the LORD is driving them out before you. Not because of your righteousness or the uprightness of your heart…Deut 9:4,5.  O my God, incline your ear and hear. Open your eyes and see our desolations, and the city that is called by your name. For we do not present our pleas before you because of our righteousness, but because of your great mercy, Dan 9:18.

              Those people knew they had not earned God’s love and mercy, but they also knew when they had done well in keeping His commandments.  Why do we think it’s a sin to recognize that?  The apostles didn’t.  I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing, 2 Tim 4:7,8.

              When my grandson came running out that day I could easily have told the difference between arrogance and joy.  Why can’t we tell the same thing about one another?  Why can’t we share victories over Satan and expect others will be just as happy about it as we are?  God wanted us to know we are saved; he wanted us to be confident in our destiny. I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God that you may know that you have eternal life, 1 John 5:13.

              I’ll tell you this, if we are going to “become as little children” and so inherit the kingdom of heaven, we had better stop acting like peevish, petty grown-ups.  With that sort of behavior we will never be able to run down the streets of Heaven shouting, “I got purple!”
 
Let them shout for joy, and be glad, that favor my righteous cause: Yea, let them say continually, Jehovah be magnified, Who hath pleasure in the prosperity of his servant, Psalm 35:27.
 
Dene Ward

The last time we went to visit our grandsons, they had acquired a miniature Foosball game.  About two feet long, each player had only two rods to handle instead of the usual four apiece.  And that was plenty for rookie player Grandma.  Both boys beat me soundly, but by the end of the weekend I was at least holding my own.  Once I lost 9-7 instead of the customary shutout.  Being older and thus, more coordinated and better able to use strategy, 9 year old Silas always beat 6 year old Judah.  So I imagine it did Judah's little ego a world of good to beat up on Grandma!

              Later that first day, I also helped with piano practice.  (Nice to have a former piano teacher as a grandmother.)  Silas is far more advanced than any student his age I ever had, and it is a joy to listen to him.  The way his little mind picks up instruction is another pleasure.  After just a couple of thirty minute sessions, his playing was cleaner and his interpretation more mature.

              Judah has just begun.  His problem is confidence in his left hand.  He showed me his method book and went through about 8 pages lickety-split, but always using only his right hand, even when the top of the page clearly showed the left hand fingers needed to play the bass clef notes.  He even had to think backwards to get the correct notes played because, if you haven't noticed, your hand is a mirror image of the right.  Your thumb is your first finger on each hand and the finger numbers go from there.  So playing a note with the fourth finger of the left hand requires playing that note with the second finger of your right hand in order to play the correct note.  Thinking backwards was easy for him, but he steadfastly refused to use his left hand.  He may not have said it this way, but he clearly understood that his right hand was dominant and his left the off hand.

              Whenever I suggested he try it with the left hand, he compressed his lips and shook his little head.  Finally, this teacher of nearly forty years' experience figured out what to say.

              "Do you remember how hard it was to play with your right hand the first time you started?  But now that you have practiced it, your hand is stronger and you can do it much more easily, right?"  I finally got an oh-so-slight nod.  "So if you start using your left hand, it will get stronger, right?"  No nod this time, but he was still listening.  "And when your left hand gets strong too, you will be able to play Foosball better and maybe beat your big brother." 

              Now you could see the wheels spinning.  "How about giving it a try?" I asked.

              "I will sometime."

              "How about if I leave for a minute?"

              I didn't really get a nod, but I left the room and before five seconds had elapsed I heard the piano.  He might have played a little more hesitantly than with the right hand, but that left hand played every single piece whether it was written for right or left hand.  Do you know why that worked?  I gave him some motivation that meant something to him.

              Do you think God doesn't give us the same thing?  You can find what my college Behavior Modification class called positive and negative reinforcement on practically every page of the Bible.  From "in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die" (Gen 2:17) to "and he shall wipe away every tear from their eyes…" (Rev 21:4). 

           God finds the motivation that means the most to the people he is dealing with.  Sometimes we seem to think that we should be doing things "just because" and that will make us better than anyone else.  Please find for me any place that says that.  Even when it seems that way, there is an unspoken prod somewhere in the context—gratitude, fear, love, something that will help us accomplish the task.  Even Jesus was given motivation:  "…who for the joy set before him endured the cross…" (Heb 12:2).

        Sometimes we misinterpret the motivation.  All those descriptions of Heaven as a place of magnificent wealth?  God is not appealing to our greed.  Remember who he spoke to.  Those people understood what it meant to pray for their "daily" bread.  They didn't have well-stocked pantries, grocery stores on the corner, bank accounts, life insurance, stock portfolios, or any other of the things we have.  He was appealing to their desire for security.  A place so wealthy that gold and jewels were used as building materials and pavement meant they would never have to worry about keeping their families fed and cared for.  Walls so high meant they did not have to worry about Barbarians coming over the mountains to raid their villages.

         As with all motivations, we hope to mature so that someday we can motivate ourselves with something a little less mundane.  As our spirituality grows, so should the incentives we use to succeed.  Someday I hope Judah will use his left hand at the piano so he can be a better pianist, and not just so he can beat his brother at Foosball.  But for now?  Whatever works.

           Find what works for you.  Don't be ashamed when you need a little help along the way.  If you need a metaphorical Mt Gerizim, find it.  If you need a Mt Ebal, give yourself a little tough love.  Motivation is not a dirty word.
 
Bring the full tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. And thereby put me to the test, says the LORD of hosts, if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you a blessing until there is no more need. (Mal 3:10).
 
Dene Ward

One time when we kept our grandsons, twenty-month-old Judah usually climbed into my lap every evening as we sat at the table for a final cup of coffee.  It took me a minute the first time his little hand reached out in the air, but finally I realized he was trying to catch the steam wafting over my mug, and was completely mystified when it disappeared between his chubby little fingers.

              A lot of people spend their lives trying to catch the steam, vapors that seem solid but disintegrate in their grasping hands.  They do it in all sorts of ways, and all of them are useless. 

              Do they really think they can stop time?  Over 11,000,000 surgical and nonsurgical cosmetic procedures were performed in this country in 2013, and we aren’t talking medically necessary procedures.  The top five were liposuctions, breast augmentations, eyelid surgeries, tummy tucks, and nose surgeries.*

              Then there are the folks chasing wealth and security.  Didn’t the recent Great Recession, as it is now called, teach them anything?  Others are striving to make a name for themselves.  These are usually the same folks who tell Christians how pathetic we are to believe that some Higher Power would ever notice we even exist on this puny blue dot in the universe.  Yet there they all go looking for fame, fortune, notoriety, beauty, or even their version of eternal life.  All of it is nothing more than a dream.  It will disappear, if not in a natural disaster or an economic meltdown, then the day they die—and they will die no matter how hard they try not to.  They are the ones grasping at dreams which are only a vapor that disappears in a flash.

              Our dream isn’t a dream at all.  It is a hope, which in the Biblical sense means it is all but realized.  Sin and death have been conquered by a force we can only try to comprehend, by a love we can never repay, and by a will we can but do our best to imitate.  Yet there it is, not a wisp of white floating over a warm porcelain mug, but a solid foundation upon which we base our faith.  Heb 6:19 calls it “an anchor.”  Have you ever seen a real anchor?  If there is anything the opposite of a wisp of steam, that’s it—solid and strong, able to hold us steady in the worst winds of life.  Tell me how a pert nose and a full bank account can do that!

              The world thinks it knows what is real while we sit like a toddler grasping at steam.  When eternity comes, they will finally see that they are wrong.  Spiritual things are the only things that last, the only real things at all.

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal, 2 Cor 4:6-8.

*Information from the American Society for Aesthetic Plastic Surgery

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     
 
Dene Ward

The last in the series. 

After I read the book to my grandsons, I took it and looked on every page, up and down, backwards and forwards and could not find her.  I knew He-Did-It Harriet was in there somewhere.  Then I began looking for torn out pages.  Nope.  The book was intact.  Finally, I remembered where she was—in my class's imagination.  They told me the book was incomplete, that several people were missing.  So I told them to come up with the missing children themselves, and they did.  After all these years, Harriet is the only one I remember.
 
             He-Did-It-Harriet has several problems.  First, she's the tattletale.  It isn't that she cares about people and whether they might get hurt—she wants them to get in trouble.  Do you think adults don't think the same way sometimes?  Usually after you point out a problem they have.  "Maybe what I did was wrong, but you…"  Or "brother so and so," Or "sister whatsis."  Tattling on anyone to divert the attention of the elders, the preacher, or any other kind soul who is simply trying to help.  Harriet needs to be told in no uncertain terms that what anyone else did does not make her sins okay.

              Harriet's other problem, especially as an adult, is to blame everyone else for her sin.  "But I'm a victim," she says of poor parenting, of a violent culture, or abuse of one sort or another.  And especially, "He was mean to me.  That's why I quit going to church."  You mean, you allowed someone else to cause you to abandon the Lord who gave his life for you?  That same Lord said, "If the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch."  He said through his prophet Ezekiel, "The soul that sins, he shall die."  My sin is my fault because I let it happen, not because of anything anyone else did.  Never in the Bible will you find a place where someone else's failings actually excused the sin of another.

              And Harriet will never see her own failures.  I have lived long enough to know that practically every problem between two people has two sides.  Harriet, though, sees only her side.  She will judge the motives of others and criticize their actions and words, demanding an apology.  When the other side does this too, things will never be straightened out.  But what often happens is the other side will read in their Bible, "Love covers a multitude of sins," and though they, too, were hurt, they will be the first to proffer the demanded apology, hoping for one in return, and when they don’t get it from the self-absorbed Harriet, just go along for the sake of unity and peace in the family or the church rather than make their own demands.  Harriet is so wrapped up in herself that she will never recognize this fact:  one apology almost always demands one in return because no one is perfect.

              Our entire culture is full of He-Did-It Harriets, people who refuse to take accountability for their actions and blame everything and everyone they can for their failings.  When we let that invade the church, even taking up for the Harriets out there who try to blame it on the preachers, teachers, elders, and caring brothers and sisters who dared to tell her she was wrong, we give the Devil a victory.  He has won Harriet, but he has also won anyone else who sees her get away with sin and still be accepted as a part of what should be a holy brotherhood.  Now they know exactly how they can get away with it, too.

              The children did not know when they made up Harriet that this one might be the most important one of all.  Or maybe they did.  Maybe they have seen it too long among their playmates and while they cannot see from experience the evil that is wrought by them, something in them saw a problem.

              If you should use this book with your children or your Bible classes, try this simple exercise.  Have them come up with characters they do not like to be around and do not want to grow up to be like.  Children are far wiser than we sometimes think.
 
He said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten of the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” The man said, “The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate.” Then the LORD God said to the woman, “What is this that you have done?” The woman said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.” (Gen 3:11-13).
 
And Moses said to Aaron, “What did this people do to you that you have brought such a great sin upon them?” And Aaron said, “Let not the anger of my lord burn hot. You know the people, that they are set on evil. For they said to me, ‘Make us gods who shall go before us. As for this Moses, the man who brought us up out of the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him.’ So I said to them, ‘Let any who have gold take it off.’ So they gave it to me, and I threw it into the fire, and out came this calf.” (Exod 32:21-24).
 
And Saul said to Samuel, “I have obeyed the voice of the LORD. I have gone on the mission on which the LORD sent me. I have brought Agag the king of Amalek, and I have devoted the Amalekites to destruction. But the people took of the spoil, sheep and oxen, the best of the things devoted to destruction, to sacrifice to the LORD your God in Gilgal.” And Samuel said, “Has the LORD as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the LORD? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to listen than the fat of rams. For rebellion is as the sin of divination, and presumption is as iniquity and idolatry. Because you have rejected the word of the LORD, he has also rejected you from being king.” (1Sam 15:20-23).
 
Dene Ward

Silas and Judah stay with for a few days nearly every year, and they always leave me with great stories to tell and lessons to learn.  This one was several years ago.
 
             The first morning we gathered up swimsuits, towels and water toys for a trip to their great-grandmother’s (“Gran-Gran”) in a subdivision with a pool at the community center.  We nabbed the pool pass off her wall and headed down the shady lane with mounting excitement only to find a sign posted on the gate to the pool:  “The pool is temporarily closed due to health concerns.”

              They did as well as they could, for a five-year-old and a two-year-old, at hiding their disappointment, but on the trip home Keith and I were desperately trying to come up with a solution.  Finally we hit upon one.  Our neighbor owns a veterinary supply business.  Many of his products come in bright blue plastic barrels slightly larger than 55 gallon drums, which he empties as he fills smaller bottles for his customers.  He often gives us the empties which we wash out and use for all sorts of things.  We happened to have two that were cut down to about two feet deep.

              Granddad rolled those tubs out to the yard in the shade of the huge live oaks on the west side of the house and filled them with water.  Then we divvied up plastic cups and water guns and plopped a little boy in each tub along with all the paraphernalia.  As children will, especially kids as bright as these, they soon had a good game or two going, and we grandparents managed to stay out of the way of most of the water, if not all of it, especially those extra long squirts from the water guns.

              Then Silas, the older boy, came up with the best game, the one that splashed the most water and got him the wettest.  He stood up as tall as he could, and to the cry of “Cowabunga!” lifted both feet in a big jump and landed on his seat in the tub.  The water displacement alone was awesome, especially for such a skinny little boy.  He usually wound up with his head barely above the water, even choking on it occasionally.  Good thing those tubs were well-washed.

              Judah adores his big brother.  If Silas does it, he does it.  If Silas says it, he says it too.  Or at least tries.  But he is not without at least some measure of caution.  I watched as he considered his brother’s maniacal call and monumental splash.  He seemed to weigh things for a moment and then finally came to a decision.  “Cowabunda!” he cried, which was a little easier to say, then jumped up in the air, landing on his feet and squatting carefully in his own little blue tub.  Even being several inches shorter, more of him stayed out of the water and the splash was much less.  He may have imitated his brother’s actions, but he had not made the same commitment.

              And that is often where our Christianity stops.  We make a good show of it, but the heart isn’t there.  When the time of sacrifice comes, when we might end up floundering in deep water, it’s asking too much.  Which is exactly what the Lord does ask for—everything.

              In those classic commitment passages of Luke 9 and 14, he makes it plain that nothing can be more important to you than he is.  Not comfort and convenience (9:57,58); not family (9:59,60; 14:20); not business (14:18); not possessions (14:19); nothing can get in the way.  Then we have one that I had a hard time figuring out.

              Yet another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.”  Luke 9:61.  We already have several references to family relationships, especially when you add “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me,” and the like.  Then I remembered the call of Elisha.  He too asked Elijah if he could go home and kiss his parents goodbye, and yes, Elijah allowed him to not only do that, but to prepare a feast with the very oxen he had been plowing with at his call (1 Kgs 19:19-21).  Surely Jesus was referring to this well-known bit of Jewish history when he said, “No, you cannot go home and say goodbye.”

              So perhaps it means, “I am even more important than a great prophet like Elijah,” the one most Jews considered the greatest prophet of all.  To make such an assertion was astounding, and to follow Jesus as he required meant one accepted that claim too.  Yes, Jesus asked for it all, even placing your social and religious life on the line by accepting his teaching and claims.

              You can’t dip your toes in the water and claim to be his disciple.  You have to take the plunge, even if it means landing hard and choking on the water when you do.  If you’re scared of making waves in your little blue tub of a world, chances are you have never made the commitment you should have.
 
And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.  For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself? For whoever is ashamed of me and of my words, of him will the Son of Man be ashamed when he comes in his glory and the glory of the Father and of the holy angels, Luke 9:23-26.
 
Dene Ward

Picky Pete is another character from the book in the table manners section.  He is the child who will only eat about 5 things—if you are lucky—and it must be the correct brand prepared in the correct way or it doesn't count.  If you have a Picky Pete—and I did—you must eventually teach him to gratefully accept what is placed before him.  Unless he has a certifiable illness or allergy, it is rude not to.  In the first place, someone has worked long and hard to prepare that meal.  In the second, and most important, God has provided it, and that is the only reason he is not starving.  (But parents, cleaning your plate is not predicated on the children in China, okay?)
 
             We had a rule in our house.  You try everything once.  And if you ever say, "Yuk!" (or "Eeew" or any other such word of disgust) you have to eat a double serving.  At least I was never embarrassed at someone else's house that way, and they did discover that some things they thought might be awful actually tasted pretty good.

              The problem with Picky Pete is that the more he is catered to, the worse he gets.  And when he grows up, it will show in ways that are much more of a problem. 

              Remind them of these things, and charge them before God not to quarrel about words, which does no good, but only ruins the hearers.  (2Tim 2:14 )

              Have nothing to do with foolish, ignorant controversies; you know that they breed quarrels.  (2Tim 2:23 )

              As I urged you when I was going to Macedonia, remain at Ephesus so that you may charge certain persons not to teach any different doctrine, nor to devote themselves to myths and endless genealogies, which promote speculations rather than the stewardship from God that is by faith. (1Tim 1:3,4 )

              Pay special attention to that last one.  Folks, we are not talking about doctrine.  God expects exact obedience.  You cannot honestly study the whole Bible and come up with any other conclusion.  But some things are just not worth bringing up, especially in a mixed group of beginners and older Christians.  They will cause more confusion than clarity.  And you know exactly what I am talking about.  Picky Pete loves these things, and he doesn't care whose faith he ruins, just so he can get a good argument going.  Wise, considerate people who enjoy discussing those trickier things, and whose faith is mature enough to handle it, know that is it better to get together privately to do so.

              Picky Pete is not about details—God expects us to faithfully follow the pattern.  No, Picky Pete is about causing a ruckus regardless the collateral damage.
 
He is puffed up with conceit and understands nothing. He has an unhealthy craving for controversy and for quarrels about words, which produce envy, dissension, slander, evil suspicions, and constant friction among people who are depraved in mind and deprived of the truth... 1 Tim 6:4,5
 
Dene Ward

In the book, Messy Bessy is a brown-haired, pigtailed cutie--until you look closer.  She is leaning over her plate at the table, both arms splayed out, cramming food in her mouth two-fistedly.  Her cheeks are smeared and the table is strewn with food. 
 
             It's one thing for a one year old to end up with half his meal on his cheeks.  I have a cute picture of Lucas after his first plate of spaghetti.  He is red from fingertips to shoulders, and ear to ear.  The only reason it wasn't worse is that I had the sense to tie, not a bib, but one of my kitchen aprons around his neck.  But by the time he was Bessy's age, he could eat neatly, if still voraciously.

              It is an absolute shame that we need to mention grown up Messy Bessys in the church, but they are there.  Have you ever looked at a theater floor after a movie, or the grandstand after a ball game?  Spilled drinks, scattered popcorn, empty boxes, sunflower seed hulls, and a few things I hate to even ask about lie there for the cleaning crew to take care of.  Unfortunately, some church meetinghouses look nearly as bad.  All sorts of papers litter the pews from lesson sheets to bulletins to candy wrappers, cough drop wrappers, cookie and cracker crumbs, and spilled Cheerios.  The bathrooms aren't much better, with soiled paper towels thrown everywhere but the trash can, toilets unflushed, and water dripping off the counters. 

              No one should have to clean up my mess but me.  A mature adult knows that.  What kind of impression are we leaving on visitors?  And just what do we think we are teaching our children?  Where is the spirit of "Lord, Make Me a Servant" that we sing so sincerely?  No, we expect some other servant somewhere to come in and pick up after us the way our Mama used to.  Do we still need her to tag along?

               And what does grown up Messy Bessy do?  She still has little concern for how the church looks to outsiders.  She will trash it with her complaints about how it is run, with the slander she spreads about her brothers and sisters, and with her ridicule of the preacher and his work.  She will spread its dirty laundry for all to see, even that which has been cleaned "white as snow" by the Lord through repentance.  Then when none of her friends are interested in coming to church with her, she is ready to accuse them of a lack of spirituality. 

            All of the things we have talked about in this series may start with a simple childhood fault, but every one of them has led to something far more sinister spiritually.  If I cannot keep my space neat literally, what will happen to my heart?  If the first comes from a don't-care attitude and a lack of personal responsibility, so will the second—a mess of a life that breaks hearts and ruins souls.
             
              Clean up your act, Bessy.  Grow up and be accountable.
 
Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person. (Col 4:5-6)
and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, so that you may walk properly before outsiders…(1Thess 4:11-12).
 
Dene Ward
 

My grandniece has Spinal Muscular Atrophy Type 1.  SMA1 is a disease that causes progressive loss of motor neurons, leading to muscle weakness and atrophy.  Type 1 usually shows in babies 6 months and under.  The infants will have difficulty moving, eating, breathing, and swallowing.  They will be unable to lift their heads on their own and unable to sit up on their own.  Most victims of this disease do not survive past age 2 due to respiratory failure.  Abigail has already survived the odds, having turned four this year, but her life is not an easy one.
 
             Abigail must often be rushed to the hospital.  Even a simple cold could be the end.  She recently gave us a fright as she was once again loaded into an ambulance and carted off first to an ER and then a PICU.  Abigail takes it all in stride, and today she is going to teach us a lesson we all need to hear. 

              My niece, Abigail's mother, recently posted the following on Facebook:

             "Abigail's full name is Abigail Andreia (on-DRAY-uh) Saltz.
          [Her father] was very partial to "Abigail," and I...was not. He always wanted purely Biblical names for our children and I told him we could use Abigail IF he could think of a middle name that had three syllables, accent on the second syllable. He stretched his Biblical names rule by choosing a Greek word for her middle name meaning "brave," because it seemed a fitting descriptor for the queen we were naming her after and an admirable quality to live up to.
              Wow. The things you don't know.
            I have told Abigail what her middle name means so many times now that she thinks her *actual name* is Abigail Andreia Brave Saltz. When she has to do something scary she says, 'Gimme a minute. I' takin' away da Andreia and da Saltz so all I have is da Brave. Brave means being still even when you're scared.'
             Today the IV techs marveled at how still she was while putting in her IV.
           And this is what people mean when they say their children teach them far more than they teach their children."

              Abigail has always been the happiest child I have ever known.  I always suspected she was brave—children who have physical difficulties often are because of the things they experience from early on.  Now I know exactly how she does it.  She "takes away" the names that might be in the way so she can make use of the name that counts--Brave.
 
             Can I ask you this morning, what names do you need to take away?  The only name that should count for you is Christian—a child of God, a disciple of Christ.  That name will give you strength when temptations arise.  It will give you peace and contentment when you don't understand.  It will give you courage and steadfastness when trials beset your soul. 

            And why is that?  Because through that name we have life (John 20:31), we have hope (Matt 12:21), we have justification (1 Cor 6:11), we have remission of sins (Acts 10:43) and salvation (Acts 4:12).  We also have absolutely no excuse for failure because the one who wore that name left the example for us to follow, and said it was possible to do so.

              Four year old Abigail knows the power of a name.  Remember the name you wear.  Take away all the others and use that one to be faithful to the end.
 
Let them praise your great and awesome name! Holy is he! (Ps 99:3).

Dene Ward
 

Sulky Sue is a cute little blond, whose angelic expression can turn ugly in an instant.  Whenever she doesn't get her way, she screams, pouts, holds her breath, or otherwise makes the entire family miserable.  Mom and Dad have given in to her tantrums so often that she has come to expect everything to go as she wishes.  They are now just plain scared of her.

              So what happens when Sue grows up?  She still expects to get everything she wants, and whoever is in the way will be sorry if she does not.  Complaining has become her way of life.  She is not happy unless there is something to gripe about.  And gripe she will, even to the point of public scenes.  Preachers, teachers, elders and deacons instantly tense up when they see her approaching.  Is Sue happy today, or did I do something else to upset her?

              Grown-up Sue has never outgrown the egocentrism of a child.  She sits back and watches, gathering more and more "righteous" anger each day that passes because, you see, everyone is out to get her.  Even family and friends are guilty of treating her unfairly, and with "malice aforethought."  Nothing is ever accidental, and everyone always has her in mind when they say or do anything.  

              I once sat and talked with an older woman for about thirty minutes.  In that short amount of time, she said, "_______ didn't like me and wanted to cause me trouble," three different times about three different people.  I so badly wanted to ask, "And what did those three have in common?  Having to deal with YOU."  But I did not.  Maybe I was scared of her, too.

              Sue has let bitterness soak into her soul.  She is never happy, at least not for long.  She is looking for trouble everywhere.  She takes everything personally, makes mountains out of molehills, and blames God for giving her a miserable life.  For some reason, it never crosses her mind that she has pouted and moaned herself into becoming a crabby, peevish, irritable old woman (or man), and she cannot understand why people stay away from her.  Tell her to count her blessings and you will be counting the days, months, or years until she speaks to you again.  But it will probably be a great relief!
 
              Life never goes the way we plan.  Get your child used to the fact that he will have to patiently put up with drivers he thinks are idiots, bosses he can hardly stand, teachers he thinks are unfair, and neighbors who are nuisances.  Tell him to "Get over it!"  It happens to everyone and he is not so special that it will not happen to him too. 

             God's people have hope even in the midst of sorrow.  Sulky Sue is too wrapped up in herself to see beyond this world to the glory of the next.
 
For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.  2 Cor 4:17,18
 
Dene Ward