We live under a couple of huge live oaks, trees so big it would take half a dozen people holding stretched out hands to reach around them.  That means when I planted a flower bed on the west side of the house under one of those trees, the lee side so to speak, I had to be careful what I put there.  Anything with a “full sun” tag wouldn’t make it.  But it also means that I can grow things outside that others might need to take inside on a frosty morning.  The tree protects them with both the extra degree or two of heat it gives off and its shelter from the settling dew that crisps into frost on a winter morning.

              Isn’t that how we raise our children, on the sheltered side of life, and even on the sheltered side of the church?  That is as it should be.  Children shouldn’t need to worry about where their next meal is coming from.  They shouldn’t be concerned with the office politics their parents must put up with.  They certainly shouldn’t hear about church squabbles.  Your job as a parent is to protect them from those things. 

              But you can’t do that forever.  Sooner or later they need to learn about people, about their imperfections, maybe even the danger they pose to others.  That’s why we teach them that no one should touch them in certain places, that they should never get in the car with a stranger, or accept candy, or look for lost puppies.  It’s unfortunate, but we do it because we love our children.

              I am afraid we are not that smart about teaching our children about problems among brethren.  It isn’t just the false teaching wolves we need to teach them about, though more of that would be helpful.  We seem to have raised a generation that thinks everyone out there is harmless and means well because they speak in syrupy tones and sentimental mush-mouth.  No, the thing we must be most careful about is how they see us handling the disappointments with our brethren.  What they see us do and say can make or break their spiritual survival.

              When Keith was preaching full time, we saw people who claimed to be Christians acting in every way but that.  We saw couples at each other’s throats.  We saw family cliques.  We received physical threats.  We were tossed out on our ears more than once for his preaching the truth.  It may be that the only thing that kept us both faithful was realizing how these things might affect our children if we didn’t handle them carefully. 

              When they were old enough to understand what was happening, we never blamed the church.  We never blamed God.  We told them that sometimes people were not perfect, even good people--sometimes they just made a mistake.  I was NOT going to let what those people had done to us cost my children their souls.  They were what mattered. 

              As they grew older, we talked often about being faithful to God, not to a place or a group.  We reminded them about Judas.  What would have happened if the other apostles had let Judas’s monumental failure run them off?  What about Peter, their erstwhile leader?  If everyone had given up because of his denial there would have been nothing for him to return to upon his repentance.  The mission of the church depended upon those men staying faithful regardless.  God was counting on them.  We told them over and over, you never let what someone else does determine your faithfulness.  God expects you to do the right thing no matter what those people do.  I had to learn to control my depression and discouragement and not give my children cause to leave the Lord. 

              We planted our children on the sheltered side of the house, but then we moved them slowly one foot at a time to a place where the sun would beat down on them and the cold would leave frost on their leaves.  Finally they were as inured as possible from the effects of other people’s failures, including our own.  If they ever fall away, they know better than to blame someone else.

              Be careful what your children hear you say about your brethren.  Be careful what they see in your actions and attitudes.  Sooner or later they will need to stand the heat of the noonday sun and the bitter cold of a spiritual winter.  Don’t give them an easy excuse not to.
 
For there must be also factions among you, that they that are approved may be made manifest among you. 1 Corinthians 11:19
 
Dene Ward

Love looks to the ultimate good, rather than the present pleasure, of the one loved. 
(Robertson Whiteside, Doctrinal Discourses) 

And Jesus looking upon him loved him, and said unto him, One thing thou lackest…(Mark 10:21)

On December 9, 1973 Marshall Efron’s Illustrated Simplified Painless Sunday School began on CBS.  Seeing that little tidbit of information brought back words I hadn’t thought of in years.  “That’s just asking too much.”

             You’d think that I could remember who said that to us one evening while we sat studying the Bible in his home.  You’d think I could remember where he drew the line that kept him from serving the Lord.  It isn’t often you find someone that honest.  Most people offer excuses instead.  They understand that they are telling God they are not willing to sacrifice for him.  In fact, they will usually make a list of everything they have done before adding, “But that’s just asking too much.”  What they fail to see is that if they are willing to give it up, it isn’t a sacrifice.  The sacrifice comes when you don’t want to give it up; the sacrifice comes when it hurts. Serving God is not supposed to be “painless.” 

              Too many of us believe that just because we got up, dressed up, and drove to another location instead of sitting there watching some sort of “Painless Sunday School” on television that we are sacrificing for the Lord.  We will sit in the meetinghouse on Sunday morning.  We will even sit for the full two or three hours, whatever our group has chosen.  Just exactly what have we given up?  Sleep?  Another day of fishing?  A little more yard work?  Doesn’t sound like much of a sacrifice.

              Many will alter their lifestyles a bit.  What have they given up?  Hangovers?  Gambling debts?  STDs?  If you aren’t stupid, that’s another easy sacrifice to make.  It only becomes difficult when the dependency has developed.

              What we steadfastly refuse to give up is ourselves. 

              Can we admit wrong?  Can we yield to others?  Can we toe the line, even when the thing in question affects us individually?  It’s much easier for the non-music lover to give up instrumental music in the worship.  Trust me.  I know.  It’s much easier to abide by the Lord’s words concerning marriage when you have a solid relationship, and when your children have also chosen well.  It’s much easier to serve when you actually like the people you are serving.  Yet ease is the very thing that makes it not much of a sacrifice.  The true sacrifice comes when, instead of twisting scriptures to suit ourselves and frantically searching for loopholes, we do what hurts.

              The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise, Psalm 51:17.  Pain is what makes a sacrifice sincere.  Humble repentance that involves giving up selfish desires and yielding to others who do not deserve it are the most difficult sacrifices to give, and therefore, the ones that God wants most to see in us.  Until we manage that, anything else we do in service to God is a sham, no matter how beautifully we sing, how generously we donate, or how knowledgeably we teach.

              When Jeroboam became king of the northern 10 tribes of Israel, in spite of God’s promise to him of a lasting dynasty if he only obeyed, he looked at those fickle people and said, “I know exactly how to keep them here.”  He made it easy to serve God.

              And Jeroboam said in his heart, Now will the kingdom return to the house of David: if this people go up to offer sacrifices in the house of Jehovah at Jerusalem, then will the heart of this people turn again unto their lord, even unto Rehoboam king of Judah; and they will kill me, and return to Rehoboam king of Judah. Whereupon the king took counsel, and made two calves of gold; and he said unto them, It is too much for you to go up to Jerusalem: behold your gods, O Israel, which brought you up out of the land of Egypt. 1 Kings 12:26-28.

              “It’s asking too much,” he told them.  “Let me make it easy for you.”  And just like that, the people in the north left the God who had delivered them from slavery, defeated their enemies, and provided all their needs. 

              What is it that Jeroboam would offer you?

But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ, Philippians 3:7-8.
 
Dene Ward

Excuses fool no one but the one who makes them.  (Robertson Whiteside, Doctrinal Discourses) 

But he said unto him, A certain man made a great supper; and he bade many:and he sent forth his servant at supper time to say to them that were bidden, Come; for all things are now ready.And they all with one consent began to make excuse...And the lord said unto the servant, Go out into the highways and hedges, and constrain them to come in, that my house may be filled. For I say unto you, that none of those men that were bidden shall taste of my supper.  (Luke 14:16-18, 23-24)

Have you found yourself doing it lately?  Especially in the past ten years or so?  When people start vilifying the Bible with accusations about irrelevance, hate-mongering, misogyny, and homophobia, have you tried to make excuses for God?  Especially when it comes from people who claim to believe that Bible but come right out and say it's wrong, do you feel the need to apologize for God?

              I think I may have done that.  I think I may have said things that sounded like I was embarrassed by what I believed.  Finally, it hit me like a brick.  If someone were embarrassed to admit they knew me, I would just leave.  Wouldn't you?  So how do you suppose our Father feels? 

               Just what are we claiming to be, people?  Disciples of Christ or not?  Servants of God or not?

              If you love me, you will keep my commandments, Jesus said in John 14:15.  Well, do you love him?

                By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments. (1John 5:2)  The world will try to tell you just the opposite—that keeping God's commands means you do not love people.  Who do you believe?

              For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments: and his commandments are not grievous. (1John 5:3)  Or do you disagree with John?  Are God's commands too embarrassing to profess, too difficult in our culture's anti-morality, and too polarizing for our own comfortable lifestyles?

              Until someone else comes along who will empty himself of Deity to become a man, suffer through the undignified life of humanity and die an ignominious death for me, who am I to say I don't agree with God's morality, with commands that affect what I can and cannot do in service to him, and how much I must put up with in other people?  I will do as I am told because no one else loved me that much and no one else created me; no one else has the power to blink us all out of existence with a thought.  Just what in the world are you thinking when you go around apologizing for God and his Word as if it were something embarrassing we have to put up with?  If you hate having to live by God's rules, you may as well quit pretending. 

              This is what God told Jeremiah when he faced a group of arrogant, hard-headed, disobedient, unfaithful people, people who would ridicule and persecute him, and it would serve us well to remember it as we face that same group several thousand years later:

              Then I said, “Ah, Lord GOD! Behold, I do not know how to speak, for I am only a youth.” But the LORD said to me, “Do not say, ‘I am only a youth’; for to all to whom I send you, you shall go, and whatever I command you, you shall speak. ​Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, declares the LORD.” (Jer 1:6-8)
 
Dene Ward

The car hummed along the highway as we carried our two grandsons to our home while mommy and daddy were away for a few days.  They slept away most of the two plus hour long trip, waking in time to see the unfamiliar countryside sweep past on the last road “over the river and through the woods to grandma’s house.”

              They played the rest of the afternoon away, digging in the sand, chasing bubbles, and swinging on the old oak tree (the same one Daddy fell out of and broke his arm).  Dinner came only after a bath for those two dirty-faced, dirty-footed little fellows, a tub full of bubbles and cups and pitchers to pour over each other.  After their favorite mac and cheese, chicken nuggets and applesauce, it wasn’t long until their eyes were drooping and they were ready for bed.  “The tired-er the better,” we thought, especially for that first night. 

              They fell asleep quickly, twenty-month-old Judah in the “Pack and Play” and four year-old Silas by his own choice next to his little brother on the twin-sized airbed.  We listened through the rest of the evening, but never heard a peep. 

              However, at 4:52 a.m. I sensed something by my bed and woke to a small figure standing there in the starlight filtering through the curtains.  Dark in the country is not like dark in the city.  We have no streetlights—unless you live entirely too close to an uprooted city slicker who thinks he needs one, and we don’t.  We have no concrete to reflect the moonlight either.  When it’s dark, it’s dark, and if you are not used to navigating by God’s natural night lights, you think you woke up in a tomb.

              “Silas,” I whispered, “what’s wrong?”

              “All this dark is keeping me awake,” he said quite seriously, and even though I was sleepily thinking, “All this dark is supposed to keep you asleep!” I knew exactly what he meant.  Even though we had left a nightlight right by his bedroom door, it was far darker than he was used to, and when he woke it troubled him.

              By then Granddad had wakened as well, and he took him back to bed and lay with him until he was once again snoring his soft little boy snores, not much more than five minutes afterward.  He slept another three hours with no problem at all.

              I thought sometime later that week that this little boy had it right.  The dark should be keeping us awake.

              Even the Old Testament faithful understood the concept of walking in the light.  O house of Jacob, come let us walk in the light of Jehovah, Isa 2:5.  It seemed natural, then, for the Son to claim to be the light as well.  I am the light of the world.  Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life, John 8:12.  And so, as children of God, we, too, are lights.  For you are all children of light, children of the day.  We are not of night or of darkness, 1 Thes 5:5.

              Unfortunately, the light has come into the world and the people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil, John 3:19.  As “children of light” we should be opposite the world.  We should not love the darkness; we should hate it. 

              This will come more naturally if we mature to the point that we don’t just walk in the light and not walk in the darkness.  Look at Eph 5:8:  for at one time you were darkness, but now are light in the Lord.  Do you see that?  Light isn’t just something you walk in, it is something you become.  Just as at one time you didn’t just walk in the darkness, you were darkness.  We have completely changed our essence.  No wonder we are supposed to hate the dark.  No wonder the mere presence of it in the world, among our neighbors, our friends and even our family, should be keeping us awake at night.

              All this dark is keeping me awake Lord, should be a lament on every Christian’s tongue.  Not only that, we should be actively trying to rid the world of that very darkness.  Have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, Yes, rather, reprove them, Eph 5:11. 

              If the darkness in the world isn’t enough to keep a “child of light” awake, perhaps he has become something else.
 
Arise, shine; for your light is come, and the glory of Jehovah is risen upon you. For, behold, darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the peoples; but Jehovah will arise upon you, and his glory shall be seen upon you. And nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your rising. Isa 60:1-3.
 
Dene Ward

Keith was fiddling with the campfire while I stood behind him shivering.  A pile of twigs lay over two slivers of lighter wood to which he held a match.  Black smoke curled up from the charred wood, which flared briefly then died out—over and over and over.  Suddenly one of the twigs caught and began to burn.  A few minutes later the lighter wood beneath finally began to burn, its thick oily flame blazing brightly.

             “Now that’s something,” he muttered, “when the twigs catch faster than the lighter.”

              Not many are familiar with lighter wood any more.  Also known as pitch pine, this wood contains a high concentration of resin.  The smell is often overpowering, as if you had soaked it in lighter fluid.  When you watch one of those old movies, the torches the mob carries are pieces of lighter wood.  You can’t light a piece of wood with a match—not unless it’s lighter wood, which lights up instantly, like a kerosene-soaked corn cob.

              Except the piece Keith was using that morning.  We had left behind the warmth of an electric-blanket-stuffed double sleeping bag and crawled out into a crisp morning breeze on an open mountaintop, the thermometer next to the tent barely brushing the bottom of thirty degrees.  We needed a fire in a hurry, but what should have been reliable wasn’t, what should have been the first to solve the problem had itself become the problem.

              As I pondered that the rest of the day, my first thought was the Jews’ rejection of Christ.  Sometimes we look at Pentecost and think, “Wow!  Three thousand in one day!  Why can’t we have that kind of success?” 

              Success?  I’ve heard estimates of one to two million Jews in Jerusalem at Pentecost.  Even if it were the lesser number, out of a specially prepared people, 3000 is only three-tenths of one percent—hardly anyone’s definition of “success.”  Here are people who had heard prophecies for centuries, who then had the preaching of John, and ultimately both the teaching and miracles of Jesus, people who should have caught fire and lit the world.  Instead the apostles had to eventually “turn to the Gentiles” who “received them gladly.”

              And today?  Does the church lead the way, or are we so afraid of doing something wrong that we do absolutely nothing?  Have we consigned Christianity to a meetinghouse?  Do our religious friends out-teach us, out-work us (yes, even those who don’t believe in “works-salvation”), and out-love us?  Do we, who should be setting the world on fire, sit and wait for someone else to help the poor, visit the sick and convert the sinners, then pat ourselves on the back because we didn’t do things the wrong way, while ignoring the fact that we didn’t do anything at all?

              And, even closer to home, do we older Christians lead the way in our zeal for knowing God’s word, standing for the truth, yielding our opinions, and serving others, or must we be shamed into it by excited young Christians who, despite our example, understand that being a Christian is more about what we do than what we say?

              It’s disgraceful when the twigs catch fire before the lighter wood.
 
And let us consider how to stir one another up to love and good works, Heb 10:24.
 
Dene Ward
 

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.
 
"Or else" was something Mama rarely said twice. When we heard that tone and those words, we stopped arguing, stopped what we were doing, stopped dawdling and got to it. Now!

People who spend time in the prophets rarely have difficulty understanding the meaning or urgency of repentance. On the other hand, preachers can line up all the Greek words and definitions and illustrations of the way people used those words in New Testament times and still some will find room to quibble. Then, some go into long discussions about "walking in the light" and how one slip does not negate all the years of walking....But hear Ezekiel:

"And thou, son of man, say unto the children of thy people, The righteousness of the righteous shall not deliver him in the day of his transgression; and as for the wickedness of the wicked, he shall not fall thereby in the day that he turns from his wickedness; neither shall he that is righteous be able to live thereby in the day that he sins. When I say to the righteous, that he shall surely live; if he trust to his righteousness, and commit iniquity, none of his righteous deeds shall be remembered; but in his iniquity that he has committed, therein shall he die. Again, when I say unto the wicked, Thou shalt surely die; if he turn from his sin, and do that which is lawful and right; ... he shall surely live, he shall not die. None of his sins that he has committed shall be remembered against him: he has done that which is lawful and right; he shall surely live. (Ezek 33:12-16, ASV).

This seems hard to misunderstand. Just as Mama never wanted to execute the unspoken, "or else," neither did God. "Rend your heart, and not your garments, and turn unto Jehovah your God; for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abundant in lovingkindness, and repents him of the evil. (Joel 2:13) Mama had to bring the "or else" down upon us a few times before we learned to properly react.  God does not want to punish, He wants to send mercy and lovingkindness, but we must react when He says, "Or else."

We do not like to think of the "little sins" we do as being "evil ways." We come up with all sorts of arguments and excuses and dawdle about making the changes that God prescribed. We think that maybe all the things we get right will make everything turn out all right. Meanwhile, Paul said, "Or else" to the Corinthians and they exhibited "earnest care" in the matter of their weaknesses and sins, they cleared themselves of the problems, they feared God and were indignant against their sins. Thus, they approved themselves to be pure (2 Cor 7:9-11).
 
To be a child of God in imitation of Jesus, we must STOP SINNING. It can be done. Satan excuses; God will help. "God will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will make the way of escape, that ye may be able to endure it." (1Cor 10:13 selected).
 
Even so reckon ye also yourselves to be dead unto sin, but alive unto God in Christ Jesus. Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal body, that ye should obey the lusts thereof: neither present your members unto sin as instruments of unrighteousness; but present yourselves unto God, as alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness unto God. (Rom 6:11-13)
 
Keith Ward

Keith grew up in an old farmhouse on a hill in the Ozarks--no running water, a light bulb dangling in each room, and for heat, a woodstove in the kitchen and a fireplace in the living room.  The kids slept in the unfinished (and un-insulated) attic.  In the winter they shoved the foot of each bed against the brick chimney that rose through the attic to the roof so they could get whatever warmth might seep out, and they always made sure they were comfortable before his mother laid on the quilts.  She piled so many on he couldn’t move from the weight of them afterward.  So he knows a lot more about getting the heat out of a fire than I do. 
 
             We had a fireplace once in our married life, three years which were also our worst financial span.  We used that fireplace as much for heat as beauty and atmosphere, and to keep the winter fuel bill down. 

              One especially cold evening he stood two large oak logs on end behind the fire, something he remembered from his childhood.  Immediately the heat began pouring into the room instead of shooting up the chimney, and within an hour those logs had coaled up on their fronts, radiating yet more warmth, like the coils of an electric heater.  Because they weren’t actually in the fire, they stood all night long without burning up, and we were much warmer than before.  Backlogs, he called them, reflectors of the heat in front of them, and eventually of the heat they had absorbed.

              We began using them when camping too, once the boys left home and we were no longer consigned to summer camping only.  In October the temperature can drop precipitously in the mountains and even in Florida in January.

              Paul says, Seeing it is God, that said, Light shall shine out of darkness, who shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ, 2 Corinthians 4:6.  He and the other apostles reflected the glory of God to their listeners.  He called it “a treasure in our earthen vessels…of God and not from ourselves,” v 7.  God must have seen in those men a clean and shining surface to reflect His glory or He never would have chosen them.

              Earlier in the chapter Paul speaks about people who are so blinded by “the god of this world” that they cannot see the light.  Do you think God can be reflected in people who are materialistic and unspiritual?  Do you think His love will be emanated by those who are unkind and impatient, unforgiving and lacking in compassion?  Can we mirror His glory when we are tarnished by an impure lifestyle?

              The back logs we used did nothing in an empty fireplace or fire ring.  They only functioned when they stood behind the fire, soaking up its heat, turning the same colors as the coals themselves, and exuding their warmth from all they had absorbed.  We will never truly be “the image of God” if we are not standing next to Him, soaking up His word and the glory it reveals about Him. 

              We must become back logs, reflecting God’s glory just as those apostles did, realizing it is not we who shine, but He who shines forth from us.  Like those logs, we should eventually change, so that the reflection becomes truer and the image clearer in every word and every deed, and in every place.
 
But we all, with unveiled face beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are transformed into the same image from glory to glory, even as from the Lord the Spirit, 2 Corinthians 3:18.                                                                                    

Dene Ward

I saw him first in the early spring, the days still cool and breezy, the sun only barely warming the greening grass.  I am not sure exactly how he reached the feeder next to my window, but later I saw him hopping down one limb at a time to the ground.  His right wing was broken, dragging on whatever surface he stood; he was unable to lift it at all.  Yet by hopping upward one limb at a time, I surmised, he had managed to get to a plentiful food supply and ate as much as he needed.

              All spring he came, usually after the other birds had eaten their fill and left.  I made sure he had plenty and he seemed to appreciate it, eying me from the safety beyond the window where I sat as he pecked the seed.  Finally his wing began to mend.  After a couple of weeks he was able to pull it up a bit.  Gradually he pulled it closer and closer to his body, and suddenly one afternoon he gave it a try and flew to the feeders out in the yard, the ones on straight poles that he couldn’t reach before.  His flight was wobbly, swooping down toward the grass in a dive I thought would crash-land, but then he managed to flap a bit and rise to land on the red plastic perch.

              His wing and his maneuvers have both improved.  I can still tell which one he is, though, because that wing healed crookedly and still bows out from his body as if he has his hand in his pocket, elbow stuck out, but his flying is straight and sure now.  He survived what might have brought death to any other bird probably because of the free and easy meal he could still manage to reach while he healed.

              Isn’t that why God put us here together?  When one of us has a broken wing, the rest of us do what we can to help.  It may be physical—taking meals to the ill or injured or those recovering from surgeries.  But far more often it is a spiritual break, a soul in jeopardy from the pitfalls of life that have left him maimed and unable to care for himself.

              And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all. 1 Thessalonians 5:14

              We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Romans 15:1

              Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. Galatians 6:2.

              In this way we follow the example of our Lord:  a bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not quench…Matt 12:20.  Just as he healed so many broken souls, he expects us to do the same.

              Sometimes it is difficult to deal with these broken souls.  It takes time, it takes effort, sometimes it even takes heartache and tears. It means we might miss a planned outing, a meal, or maybe some sleep.  Taking care of those in pain can take up your life—but then, isn’t service supposed to be our life when we give it all to the Suffering Servant?  Service by definition is never convenient. 

              Look around for those broken wings.  God expects you to be His agent in taking care of His ailing children.  Feed them, care for them, listen, advise, and if necessary, correct.  Above all, be patient—healing takes time.  If you aren’t willing to do that, then maybe the broken wing is yours.
 
Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who have an anxious heart, "Be strong; fear not! Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God. He will come and save you." Isaiah 35:3-4
 
Dene Ward