Everyone knows about Babe Ruth, but did you know that in his first year as a Major Leaguer—1914--he didn't hit a single home run?  Granted he only played in five games, but this is Babe Ruth we're talking about.  The second year he hit 4 home runs, including his first in the major leagues as part of the Boston Red Sox.  On May 6, 1915, in the third inning at the Polo Grounds against the New York Yankees, he hit a solid pop that made the entire crowd gasp as it sailed into the second tier of the right field grandstands.  As his career continued, he improved even more, setting the record for most home runs in a season (29 in 1919), and then breaking his own record twice.  Improvement should be expected in a professional and Babe Ruth certainly lived up to it.
            It happens in other areas as well.  We have always had a large garden, mainly to keep the grocery bill affordable.  An 80 by 80 foot plot has been planted in three different places through the years as we came to know our land and which areas of it were best suited for what.
            But the past few years, we have downsized.  Half the original garden, now 40 by 80, is plenty of room for the little the two of us need, and we still have extra to give away on Sunday mornings.  But since the other half was already tilled, it seemed a shame to waste it.  So that first year Keith planted an entire pound of wildflower seeds in it.  If that does not impress you, consider that those seed packets you buy in the store containing 25 seeds are less than a tenth of an ounce.  In fact, most of the weight, should you put them on a scale small enough to weigh ounces, is the paper packet itself.  So a pound of flower seeds is an enormous amount.
            As the spring and summer passed by, nothing came up.  What a disappointment.  Planting those seeds was a lot of work—tilling, sowing, rolling with a fifty gallon barrel, hauling hoses and setting up sprinklers to water it.  Too much work, Keith decided, to try it again. 
            Then one spring morning during the second year, he looked out on that side of the old garden space and saw what he had expected to see the year before.  Bright yellow fleabane in huge clumps, fire engine red, deep pink, and fuchsia phlox, orange gaillardia, yellow and maroon tickseed, and tall stems of black-eyed Susans and cone flowers.  It has been a delight all year long.  We just had to wait for it longer than expected.
            I planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase. (1Cor 3:6)
            Planting for the Lord is hard work.  It may be natural to want to see results immediately.  It may be understandable to become discouraged when we do not.  Stop whittling on God's end of the stick.  Our job is to plant.  Period.  God will give the increase in His own good time—maybe the second year, maybe not until the fifth or tenth or even the twentieth. 
            So keep sowing that seed.  You sow it with your words, with your offers to hold a Bible study, with the example you set when life goes awry as it will sooner or later for everyone.  You sow it on purpose and you sow accidentally when you do not realize someone else is watching and listening.  You sow it formally with written invitations and flyers and you sow when you just happen to think to invite out of the clear blue.  One of these days you might see a few results.  But then again, you may never see one.  That does not mean they won't happen in a heart years removed from the time you sowed, long after you are gone.  Even Babe Ruth had to wait a while.
            But when those seeds bloom, they will be some of the most beautiful blooms on the face of the earth—a heart where the gospel has taken root and formed a servant of the Lord.  Sow something today, on purpose, and think about my wildflowers as you do.  God will give that increase--sometime.  We must learn to stop counting and see it by faith.
 
For as the rain comes down and the snow from heaven, and returns not there, but waters the earth, and makes it bring forth and bud, and gives seed to the sower and bread to the eater; so shall my word be that goes forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it. (Isa 55:10-11)
 
Dene Ward

On our last camping trip to Blackwater River State Park we had reserved an especially good site, along with its neighbor for Lucas, three months in advance.  We arrived and after three hours were nearly set up when the ranger arrived to tell us that the next day a controlled burn was scheduled right on our edge of the campground and we would have to move.  It was not a happy event.  Not only would we have to tear down and start again less than an hour before sunset, but none of the other sites were as private. 
            Privacy is not that important when you sleep in a trailer or RV, but in tents with paper-thin walls it makes a difference.  Our new sites were smack dab in the middle of the campground and so small and close together that I could hear Lucas snoring in his tent next site over.  In fact one night, he and Keith were snoring in rhythm, and the night after Lucas started a snore on the inhale and Keith finished it on the exhale, perfectly synchronized.  Yet when the controlled burn passed the campground we were glad we had moved.  Even with the wind blowing in the opposite direction, the ash would have fallen on our equipment and melted holes in it.
            This is one of the things you must be ready to deal with in a State Park.  The point of a state park is conservation.  There will be more rules than a commercial campground, rules that when broken actually make you a lawbreaker.  But state parks have the nicest facilities for the money that you will find, along with well-maintained hiking trails, nature walks, and all sorts of other free amenities.  We do our best to follow those rules because those parks are part of God's Creation, and we want them to last. 
            Florida has one of the best, and most awarded, state park systems in the country.  The idea was proposed during the Twenty-Sixth Regular Session of the State of Florida House of Representatives on May 2, 1935, and we are thrilled that it was later passed.  In our thirty years of camping, we have certainly made good use of the resulting parks.
            And on that particular trip we learned a lot about controlled burns.  There are two reasons for controlled burns.  When the underbrush is allowed to spread unchecked, all that extra fuel makes wildfires more destructive.  Also, in a pine forest, the controlled burns keep the hardwoods from taking over.  The day after the burn every small hardwood was smoking and burned to a crisp while the pines stood tall and strong, if a little charred on the bottom.
            As Christians we must experience times exactly like these controlled burns.  Perhaps the most difficult “burns” to understand are the problems among God’s people.  If the church is the body of Christ, why do people behave badly?  Why do divisions happen and heresies lead people astray?  The Proverb writer tells us that God will use the wicked, whether they want to be used or not, Prov 16:4.  Paul says in 1 Cor 11:19, For there must be factions among you in order that those who are genuine among you may be recognized. 
            The question is not will there be problems in the church?  The question is, when there are problems will we be able to “recognize” those who are not genuine believers?  I fear that too many of us look to the wrong things. 
            Do I believe one side because they are my friends, never even questioning their words, while automatically dismissing the other if among them is a brother I don’t like too much?  Does “family” make the decision for me?  Am I relying on how I “feel” about it, instead of what the Word actually says?  Does it matter more to me who can quote the Big-Name Preachers instead of the scriptures?  Is one side more popular than the other?  Will it give me more power if that side wins the fight?  When I rely on those types of things, I am the one who is showing myself to be a less than genuine believer.
            While these things are necessary, it doesn’t mean God likes them, any more than he liked the Assyrians who fulfilled their purpose in punishing his wayward people. 
            Ho Assyrian, the rod of my anger, the staff in whose hand is my indignation! I will send him against a profane nation, and against the people of my wrath will I give him a charge, to take the spoil, and to take the prey, and to tread them down like the mire of the streets. Howbeit he means not so, neither does his heart think so; but it is in his heart to destroy, and to cut off nations not a few... Wherefore it shall come to pass, that, when the Lord has performed his whole work upon mount Zion and on Jerusalem, I will punish the fruit of the stout heart of the king of Assyria, and the glory of his high looks, Isa 10:5-6,12. 
            Jesus presents a similar viewpoint when he says in Matt 18:7, Woe unto the world because of occasions of stumbling! For it must needs be that the occasions come; but woe to that man through whom the occasion comes!  These things have their place and their purpose, but God will punish the ones responsible. 
            Now the hard part:  The apostles did not tell the early church that it was understandable to become discouraged and leave because their idea of the blissful, perfect institution was often marred by sin.  They said to use that experience to double check where we stand, to make sure we are among the true believers, the tall pines that withstand the blaze instead of the scrub brush and interloping hardwoods who try to destroy Christ’s body.
            Those controlled burns in the pine forests happen every three years.  Who knows how often the church needs cleansing but God himself? For me to give up on the Lord and his body because someone causes trouble, because peace among God’s people sometimes seems hard to come by, means I am giving up on God, failing to trust that he knows best. You may get a little singed, but it is a cleansing burn, far better than the eternal burn that awaits the factious.
 
Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are ravening wolves. By their fruits you shall know them. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good tree brings forth good fruit; but the corrupt tree brings forth evil fruit…Therefore by their fruits you shall know them, Matt 7:15-17, 20.
 
Dene Ward
           
 

I can remember my mother bringing the laundry in from the clothesline and filling up a long-necked green bottle with a top that looked a little like the pour spout of the sprinkling can she used on her flowers.  She carefully sprinkled water over the clothes she had already spent several hours washing and drying, turning them over to get both sides, and then stuffed them in a large zippered plastic bag.  Not a Ziploc, but something the size of a kitchen garbage sack with a real clothing zipper on it.  Then she put the bag in the refrigerator.  A few days later, she opened her ironing board, preheated her electric iron and spent several more hours ironing those clothes.  Every week.  Me?  I spend a couple hours every 2 months and that only because my boys and my husband love cotton shirts.  Lucky for me they only had a few of them, and now I am down to just a husband.
            I looked up the invention of permanent press fabric and must have found half a dozen dates.  Chemical companies, fabric companies, and clothing manufacturers all seem to claim a share of the glory all the way back to the 1930s.  Then in 1956 there was a patent that simply claims to be the invention of permanent press.  The problem was the way it was produced.  The resin on the cloth made the cloth stiff, uncomfortable to wear, and easily split when it was sewn.  Koret of California finally received a patent on March 14, 1961, for an improved method of manufacturing press-free crease-retained garments made with smooth, comfortable fabric that held up.  I barely remember the first time my mother bought my father a permanent press dress shirt so that date is just about right.  And all that brought something to mind.
            Maybe this is one of those urban legends that everyone has heard from someone.  I am really not certain, but Keith’s mother once told us about a young woman who began attending services with them back in the 1950s with her three young children, the oldest about 6.  She arrived just on time and left quickly.  But unlike many of those types, she was always there, her children knew the basic Bible stories, and she herself was attentive to both class and sermon.  In fact her keeping to herself seemed to be more a product of embarrassment than anything else.
            My mother-in-law, astute observer that she was, had noticed something.  The children were always neat, clean, and combed except for one thing—their clothes were always wrinkled.  This was back before the day of permanent press and polyester.  There is nothing quite as wrinkled as old-fashioned cotton—except maybe wrinkled linen—which was way beyond this woman’s means.
            I forget now how she managed to ask.  Maybe it was the offer of an iron, which I know she was generous enough to do.  Knowing my mother-in-law though, she probably just came out and asked.  However she did it, she got an answer.
            The woman’s husband was not a Christian.  He not only refused to attend services with her, he refused to get up and help her get the children ready.  So every week after their Saturday evening bath, she dressed them for church and then put them to bed.  The next morning it was easier to get the three tykes up and fed and herself dressed for church.
            After all these years, I’ve heard nearly every excuse in the world for missing Bible classes or the morning services altogether.  This young woman could have easily pulled two or three off the list and used them.  So why didn’t she?  I can think of three good reasons.
            First, she loved the Lord.  Nothing and no one was going to come between her and her Savior.  She knew the perils of allowing excuses to keep her away from the spiritual nutrition her soul needed, and she was not so arrogant as to think she could feed herself with no help at all.  “I can have a relationship with God without the church,” I have heard more times than I can count.  She knew better.
            And because she had her first priority correct, the others fell right in line.  She loved her children, but more than that she loved her children’s souls.  She had to combat not only the usual onslaught of the world, but the huge impact of a father’s bad example.  She was still in her early 20s so she had probably married quite young, too young to really understand the challenges of this “mixed” marriage, maybe even so naïve that she thought “love would conquer all” and he would change easily.  Now she knew better, but she was more than ever determined to save her children.
            And despite it all, she loved her husband and his soul too.  She knew that any little chink in her armor would allow him the rationale he needed to remain apathetic to her faith.  She understood Peter’s command in 1 Pet 3:1,2,  Likewise, wives, be subject to your own husbands, so that even if some do not obey the word, they may be won without a word by the conduct of their wives, when they see your respectful and pure conduct.  The more he resisted, the stronger she needed to be, and if taking her children to church in wrinkled clothes did the trick, then that’s what she would do.
            This young woman shows us all that excuses can be overcome by pure will.  Certainly we are not talking about the truly old, ill, and otherwise unable to go out either regularly or on occasion when there is truly a “bad day.”  We are talking about people who allow a little, or even a lot of trouble to become too much trouble to serve God.  I know many who work around the hurdles and snags that Satan throws in our paths.  It costs them time, money, and a whole lot of extra energy, but they have their priorities straight.  They know who comes first, and they understand that our modern “sacrifices” are an insult to the word. 
         If finding excuses comes easily for me, maybe I need to consider throwing out my permanent press and wearing some wrinkled clothes.
 
And when one of them that sat at meat with him heard these things, he said unto him, Blessed is he that shall eat bread in the kingdom of God. 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 servant came, and told his lord these things. Then the master of the house being angry said to his servant, Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor and maimed and blind and lame.  And the servant said, Lord, what thou didst command is done, and yet there is room.  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 14:15-24.
 
Dene Ward

Aspirin may be the most widely used over- the- counter drug in the world.  In fact, it has been a commonly used drug for thousands of years.  Acetylsalicylic acid (aspirin) comes from salicin, which is derived from various natural sources including willow bark and the spirea plant.  Ancient Sumerians and Egyptians knew about this substance as far back as 3000 BC and used it for pain and inflammation.  Hippocrates used it for fever and pain, including childbirth pain.  I have news for him.  Aspirin won't even come close for that!  Native Americans were known to chew on willow bark to relieve their aches and pains.  But most all these people also knew that too much of it would harm the stomach.  They had to know how to use it so that wouldn't happen.  They also knew which ailments it would not help.
            On March 6, 1899, Bayer was able to patent aspirin.  It isn't a package of powdered willow bark or spirea, but actual tablets, which did not appear until after the turn of the twentieth century.  And over the years, chemists have learned various ways to "buffer" its effects on the stomach.  They have also learned new uses for it.  A "heart attack aspirin" is only steps away in my home and maybe in yours as well.  But I do not use it for my various eye maladies and I doubt it has ever been used for serious illnesses such as leukemia or ALS.  It may have been labeled a "wonder drug" but it doesn't fix everything.
The other morning I noticed Chloe’s left ear sagging to the side.  No matter what was going on or how excited she was, that ear would not stand up as it normally did, over half as tall as her head in the manner of all Australian cattle dogs’ ears.  She reminded me of the antenna that sat on top of our television when I was a child, one leg of it straight up in the air, and the other at nearly ninety degrees.
            Then she started scratching at it and shaking her head and I knew—ear mites.  So we searched through the cabinet until we found the white squeeze bottle of ear mite treatment.  We had never used it on her so she came willingly, even when she saw us with the bottle.  In fact, we had not used it in so long that it took a while to get any out of the bottle, and then when it came, it came with a rush, completely filling her ear canal.  We held her long and massaged it in, but it was still too much.  As soon as we let go she shook her head and slung a big glop of it right into my eye.
            Canine ear mite medicine is not made for human eyeballs.  I rushed inside half blinded and flushed my eye for several minutes, then used up several vials of saline completely clearing the stuff out of my burning eye.  I think the contact lens helped shield it, or it might have been much worse.
            Some things don’t need medicating, especially with the wrong medicine, and some things we think need our ministrations just need to be left alone.
            John said unto him, Teacher, we saw one casting out demons in your name; and we forbade him, because he followed not us. But Jesus said, Forbid him not: for there is no man who shall do a mighty work in my name, and be able quickly to speak evil of me. For he that is not against us is for us, Mark 9:38-40.
            Many times we disagree with a brother about a subject that makes no difference at all in our ability to worship together.  Many times we disagree with each other about things that seem fairly important, but we can still sit on the same pew and worship our God in complete harmony.  The disharmony is caused only when we make something out of it.  As long as your beliefs do not hinder me from mine, where is the problem?  As long as I do not force mine on you as a condition of fellowship when it shouldn’t be, why can’t we get along?  You say you see something you believe might lead to a problem?  As long as it isn’t one, don’t force the issue.  Don’t deliberately do something that will bring discord into the family of God and call it “fighting for the truth,” when it is only wrangling about words or, at its heart, bickering about power.
            Sometimes we need to remember the Lord’s reply to his overzealous disciples:  “He that is not against us is for us.”  And we especially need to remember his absolute loathing of anything and anyone who disrupts the unity of his body.  Paul tells us in Ephesians 2 that Christ came to create unity, and that we are “one new man,” “one body,” “fellow citizens,” and “a family.” Why did he do that?  So that we might “grow into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together for a habitation of God.”  The God of peace cannot dwell in a temple that is not at peace.  We destroy the mission of Christ when we make it so.
            Be careful about diagnosing others’ beliefs.  Be careful about making things matters of spiritual life and death, when they are simply non-life-threatening “bugs.”  Maybe by our sitting together every Sunday, studying together with respect for one another instead of accusations, we can come even closer to agreement on those very bugs, and they will run their course and disappear.
 
One man esteems one day above another; another esteems every day alike.  Let each man be fully assured in his own mind…Why do you pass judgment on your brother? Or you, why do you despise your brother? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God; for it is written, "As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall confess to God." So then each of us will give an account of himself to God, Rom 14:5, 10-12.
 
Dene Ward
 

On February 26, 2008, the Svalbard Global Seed Vault first opened.  In case you are mystified, this seed vault holds samples of as many seeds in the world as the operators can lay hands on.  The point is to have a way to restore plant life if some cataclysmic event destroys it all on this planet.  Maybe I remember my biology class wrong, after all it was over fifty years ago, but I thought that if there were no plants, there would be no humans either so who will plant those seeds?  Well, actually, that's not the only point.  It seems someone who is supposed to know about these things and probably knows far more than I, says that 90% of the plant life that has ever existed on this planet is now extinct so they are also trying to keep the rest from becoming extinct.
            Many seed banks exist in the world, but all the others exist in places where the building itself can be destroyed—and then what happens to all those seeds?  This one is located in the side of a mountain in an archipelago in the Arctic Ocean, about halfway between continental Norway and the North Pole.  Even if the machinery that runs the freezers were to break down, the seeds would stay frozen because the temperature in that mountain is below zero.  Which also makes me wonder why they need the machinery, but I'll be nice and move on.
           Inspired by this amazing structure and its mission, Nabisco has built a Global Oreo Vault (no, I am not making this up) just down the road from the seed vault in which they have placed their famous recipe along with a large stockpile of Oreos "in case of asteroids" or other doomsday event on Planet Earth.  We may all be dead, but there will always be Oreos.  Who will make more of them with that recipe no one has said.
            I should mention that those Oreos are wrapped in Mylar that will protect them from moisture, air, and chemical reactions, and from temperatures ranging from -80 degrees to 300 degrees Fahrenheit.  And yet someone will still be alive and caring whether or not they have Oreos?  In the interests of fairness, Nabisco did this with a bit of tongue in cheek humor, but still it was done and it does make for a good lesson today.
            We are just as silly, and actually mean it, about our material wealth.  Silly enough that Jesus reminds us, Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon the earth, where moth and rust consume, and where thieves break through and steal: but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth consume, and where thieves do not break through nor steal (Matt 6:19-20).  We might think we would never build a Global vault of our own, but the truth of the matter shows when we spend more on our own pleasure and entertainment than on spiritual matters, when those in the world who know us personally would never think to describe us as generous and charitable, and when a downturn in the stock market scares us more than a sermon about Hell.
            I recently found a passage in Job that blew me away.  If I have made gold my hope, And have said to the fine gold, You are my confidence; If I have rejoiced because my wealth was great, And because my hand had gotten much; If I have beheld the sun when it shined, Or the moon walking in brightness, And my heart has been secretly enticed, And my mouth has kissed my hand: This also is an iniquity to be punished by the judges; For I should have denied the God that is above (Job 31:24-28).  Many of us are so ignorant of scripture that we miss the references here.  Idols were "kissed" (1 Kings 19:18; Hos 13:2), and here we have someone kissing his own hand, the hand that "had gotten much" or in our words, was responsible for all this person's material blessings.  His wealth was his "confidence" instead of God, and therefore he was worthy of judgment—for idolatry.  He was his own idol.
            If you had one of those Global Vaults, what would you put in it?  Even if you did have one, it won't do a bit of good when the True Cataclysmic Event takes place.  You might as well have put Oreos in it.
 
And he said to them, “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.” And he told them a parable, saying, “The land of a rich man produced plentifully, and he thought to himself, ‘What shall I do, for I have nowhere to store my crops?’ And he said, ‘I will do this: I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.”’ But God said to him, ‘Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So is the one who lays up treasure for himself and is not rich toward God  (Luke 12:15-21).
 
Dene Ward

It is winter, even here in Florida, and we are once again drinking our last cup of coffee by a fire in the mornings, instead of under a fan.  Florida is not always hot.  It's not always even warm, especially in the northern parts.  On February 13, 1899, a Canadian cold front pushed a blast of arctic air into our state in what became known as the Great Arctic Outbreak.  Tallahassee woke to the coldest temperatures ever recorded in Florida, -2 degrees F.  Yes, that's a minus in front of that single digit number.  We have been here in north Florida for other amazing things, like an inch or two of snow on the ground and a white Christmas both in 1989, but never a negative temperature.  I hope we don't experience it any time soon.
            With the first front this winter, I was reminded of a basic fact.  Cool, crisp air behaves differently than hot, humid air.  Hot humid air is also hazy air.  You cannot see as far and the sky is a duller, almost muted, shade of blue.  Cool air is clear.  Even my weak eyes can see farther.  And a clear winter sky is one of the prettiest blues you will ever see.
            Hot humid air will also mute sound.  Not enough that you will notice it in the summer.  You only notice it on a cold morning when suddenly the traffic on the highway a quarter mile through the woods sounds like it might just be coming through the trees right at you.  You can always hear better in the winter.
            And that may very well mean that we need to keep a cool head about us in spiritual matters.  When your spiritual vision is clouded by the heat of emotion, you will inevitably make the wrong decision.  In almost every Bible narrative you will see the difference between wrong-headed emotion and cool, clear logic.  Look at Joseph and Potiphar's wife as a simple example.  Which one was guided by hot, wanton desire and which by a decision based on a cool, careful consideration of right and wrong?  And that process plays out over and over, not only in the Bible, but in our own lives.
            The difficult part of this, at least in a culture so steeped in emotionalism, is teaching these things to our children.  I told mine over and over, you have to be a little cold-blooded when it comes to choosing a spouse.  You have to be willing to ask yourself the hard questions.  Will she be a good mother to my children?  Will she be a help or hindrance in my chosen career?  Are her aims in life the same as mine?  Does she understand a lifetime commitment in the same manner I do?  Will she help me get to Heaven, and will she let me help her?  Too many times I see young ladies who are blinded by love, falling for exactly the wrong guy, and who will not listen to their friends who quite clearly see an emotional, and possibly physical, abuser.  And I see young men who refuse to understand that attraction should come from knowing one another and sharing spiritual ideals, not good looks and shapely figures.
            There are any number of decisions we make in life, some having nothing to do with right and wrong, and some everything, that require clear thinking.  Some things hurt, and hurt badly, but must be done for the good of oneself, one's family, and people we are trying to serve.  Some of those things are things God has said to do.  You would be surprised how many times I have heard God's commands completely dismissed because someone might be "hurt."
            And so, as you notice how clear things appear this winter, remember that a little cold logic can be an excellent thing.  You will see better.  You will hear better.  And you will make far better decisions both for this life and the next.
 
“Come now, let us reason together, says the LORD… (Isa 1:18)
 
Dene Ward

350 years ago America had no holidays.  Go through your calendar and count them all.  Not one of those dates was a holiday back then.  In fact, in New England, celebrating Christmas was illegal.  Go read about Christmas in England that long ago and you will find out why.  It was considered a time to feast, drink, gamble, and fornicate, a holiday based more on Saturnalia than anything focused on family values.  When the Puritans left England, they left all that behind and declared Christmas a day of fasting. 
            By 1800 Christmas was no longer illegal, but it was just as rowdy, or more, as it had been in long ago England, sort of halfway between Spring Break and Mardi Gras, one authority I read said.  The poor, probably egged on by a criminal element, demanded entrance into the homes of those in better financial shape, along with money and food, often stooping so far as vandalism, looting, assault, and rape.  It was evidently like this all through the area.  On Christmas Day 1828, the rioting was so bad that the residents of New York City called for the formation of their first police force.  It wasn't until later in the nineteenth century that Christmas evolved into the family-focused holiday we know it as today.  In fact, it wasn't even declared a federal holiday until 1870. 
           We may think that earlier behavior is beyond us, but let me ask you, have you ever been to a Black Friday Sale?  "Between 2006 and 2018…44 Black Friday incidents in America left 11 dead and 109 injured" (nypost.com).  And sometimes we aren't much better in our own homes.
            I have only seen it once and hope to never again.  We were guests of others on Christmas Day and their method of passing out gifts went like this:  One person starting picking up presents, read the name, passed it to its recipient and continued, about one every five seconds.  In five minutes it was over with.  Everyone else was sitting there panting with exertion amid piles of crumpled wrapping paper and snarled up ribbon, and no one knew who got what from whom.  Meanwhile, my poor boys were still opening up what were far fewer, far less expensive presents, and looking up at the folks around them with a look of befuddlement.  "That's not how it's supposed to be," was clearly written on their faces.
            So how was it supposed to be?  We never had much money growing up, but my mother was still careful to teach us the point of gift-giving—it was to do kind things for others, not amass things for oneself.  She taught us to listen to one another all year long, to make note—sometimes literally—of things different ones of us needed or mentioned wanting, usually something that would make life a little easier.  None of us ever wished for the expensive and unattainable.  What was the point?  And then a couple of weeks before Christmas, the four of us went to the Mall, my sister and I with money carefully saved from our allowances and birthday gifts.  We divided up and I went with my father to buy for my mother and my sister, while she went with our mother to buy for me and our father.  Then we met in the middle of the concourse at a predetermined time and switched companions in order to finish our shopping.  We were usually so excited about what we had gotten each other it was difficult to keep the secret.
            Then on Christmas morning each one in turn got to choose a gift to give to another.  We all sat and watched that person open the gift.  The joy, the excitement, the pleasure on the other person's face was as much a part of the gift to us as the gift to the receiver.  We had very few gifts under that tree, but that gift giving process lasted far longer than our neighbors' who were soon out riding new bikes or scooters and hauling out boxes of trash while we were still sitting there enjoying the process of giving as well as receiving.
            I passed that on to my boys.  We were in the same boat as my parents in their early days—not much money and few gifts.  But they have both told me that choosing the gifts and watching their opening was always their favorite part of Christmas.  I still see that in them as mature adults, looking to give, looking to see to the needs of others, looking for ways to share what they have.  My mother did that for me and she has now done it for them, too, through me.  I think I see it in my grandchildren as well.
            Christmas does not have to be about materialism.  What it does have to be about is this:  It is more blessed to give than to receive, (Acts 20:35).  Don't let your Christmas morning be a feeding frenzy of piranha in the river "Gimme."  Make it a point to take time and savor your gifts to others.  My mother thought that was what it was all about, and that is a gift I truly treasure.
 
Dene Ward

Due to Keith's profound deafness, we have had more than the usual interest in cochlear implants.  The first one was invented by Andre Djourno and Charles Eyries in 1957.  William House also invented one in 1961.  That one was first implanted at Stanford University in 1964.  But these early implants were of limited use.  They could not stimulate different areas of the ear at different times to allow for different frequencies.  Research continued.  The resulting modern multi-channel cochlear implant, which fixed the multiple frequency issues, was first implanted on December 16, 1977, in Vienna by Professor Kurt Burein.  As of 2012, the FDA states that over 324,200 patients have received them. 
          The advantages claimed are improved (though not perfectly normal) hearing, decrease in depression, anxiety and social isolation, and improved verbal communication.  While that sounds great, these things are not for everyone.  Anyone whose deafness is caused by injury to or absence of the auditory nerve cannot be helped.  In addition, it limits things like MRIs on the implant patient's head, which can only be done under very strict guidelines.  And then there is the issue of cost, since not all insurance companies will cover the bill, or will cover only a part of it, leaving a hefty portion for the patient.  Since Keith has already had neurological issues which have required MRIs, it would seem the implant is not for him even if no other problems existed.
          While we might wish things were different for us, did you realize that not everyone wants one of these miracle inventions?  Some of those in the deaf culture consider these things oppression by the hearing world, a form of discrimination, and assault on their personhood.  They are certainly entitled to their own feelings, and I would not for a minute try to tell any one of them what to do and how to live their lives.  None of us should.  But there is another issue—spiritual deafness, people who refuse to listen to God.  Now that needs to be fixed.
           I was thinking about all these things one day last spring as Chloe and I walked out to Magdi’s grave for a few minutes.  The mums we planted there were coming back from the winter’s frost, and the grass around it greening up as well.  As we headed back to the house, I stopped and listened.  I heard crows, wrens, titmice, cardinals, hawks, woodpeckers, chickadees, blue jays, and sparrows, as well as a few I haven’t yet learned to recognize.  The world seemed completely full of tweets, chirps, whistles, warbles, and trills.  These are the things that my poor husband cannot hear, which is even worse than just being deaf, because I consider them another way to hear God, just as surely as if He had spoken out loud.  Who else could have created such diverse and beautiful sounds?  Everything else was manmade and ugly—a semi roaring out on the highway, the neighbor’s leaf blower whining away, another’s raucous lawn mower spitting and sputtering, and still another’s old pickup truck loudly revving.  Now a few of those Keith can actually hear!  Poor guy.
            Then I stopped to think of all the other times I have heard God in my life—the incessant pounding of the waves on the beach; the scream of a hawk diving for its prey; the sound of a little boy’s voice who, less than thirteen years ago, did not exist; my mother’s final breath as she left for a better place.  Anyone who has not heard God in those things, probably does not hear Him in the place where He speaks plainest—His word, for God does not leave His children wondering just exactly what that metaphysical moment they experienced meant for them to do.  He tells them plainly.
            Remember the Day of Pentecost?  Everyone heard “a sound as of a rushing mighty wind” that “filled all the house,” a sound they all recognized as having come “from heaven,” Acts 2:2.  Yet when did they finally know what God wanted them to do?  Only after the apostles spoke.  “Then when they heard this,” they were told exactly what to do, 2:37. 
            When an angel spoke to Cornelius in a vision—an angel, mind you—he certainly heard God, but he was told to send for Peter who would speak “words whereby you shall be saved” 11:14.
            Paul told the Romans “faith comes by hearing and hearing through the word of Christ” 10:17, the same word, the same gospel he proclaimed “the power of God unto salvation” 1:16.
            Yes, it is possible to hear God in the world around you.  If you don’t, you have a remarkably unspiritual mind.  If the roar of the wind and crack of thunder in a storm doesn’t fill you with wonder at the power of an Almighty Creator, you need a few pointed reminders as to the brevity and fragility of life and the temporal nature of the world around you.  But if you really want to know what God wants of you, get out His Word and read it.  Only those who are ready to listen can really hear, and you don't need any sort of implant to do so.
 
Whoever is of God hears the words of God. The reason why you do not hear them is that you are not of God. John 8:47.
 
Dene Ward
 

Boundary disputes once helped win an American presidential election. 
            In 1818, we signed a treaty with Great Britain agreeing to joint ownership of the Oregon Territory.  Citizens from both countries had settled there.  They eventually agreed to a boundary between America and Canada at the 49th parallel.  Then they both got greedy.  The British claimed anything north of the 42nd parallel.  Along came American expansionists who were willing to go to war in order to claim the disputed area up to the 54th 40 parallel for America. 
            Franklin Polk ran on the expansionist platform with the slogan "Fifty-four forty or fight," referring to what is now the southern border of Oregon, fifty four degrees, forty minutes north latitude.  On Dec 4, 1844, after an election that had run since November 1, he won the presidency.  However, he abandoned the fight and left the Oregon Territory boundary at the original line of agreement, the 49th parallel, where it still is today.
            We've had some boundary issues ourselves.  When we first moved onto this land, no one else lived on the parcels anywhere around us.  Everyone else bought for the investment and planned to sell later, and with the titles unclear (except for ours) the plots remained empty for a long time.  With no fences in place, the boys literally had their own version of the Hundred Acre Woods to play in. 
            When the first hard rains showed us how the land around here drained, and that we would soon be washed away if something weren’t done, the owners to the north of us plowed a ditch along that side to help us out.  It was required by law, but they were compliant and even stopped to make sure we were satisfied before their rented equipment went back to the store.  Yes, we were.  The ditch worked fine and we stayed dry.
            We assumed the ditch ran right along the northern edge of the property and used all the land up to it for our garden, for our yard, for flower beds, even for a post to hold guywires for our antenna.  When the land around us began to sell and people moved in, we finally had to put up a fence.  Imagine our surprise when we discovered that we had been using as much as five feet more land along the north boundary than was actually ours.  But of course, the surveyors were correct.  They had sighted along the boundary markers, white posts set on all four corners of our five plus acres.  I even had to dig up half of a lily bed one morning and transplant them elsewhere so they could put the fence along the correct line.
            The Israelites were aware of boundaries and the landmarks that outlined them.  “You shall not move your neighbor's landmark, which the men of old have set, in the inheritance that you will hold in the land that the LORD your God is giving you to possess. Deut 19:14.  It was a matter of honesty and integrity.  “‘Cursed be anyone who moves his neighbor's landmark.’ And all the people shall say, ‘Amen.’ Deut 27:17.  And this is just talking about land.  Imagine if someone moved a landmark that showed something even more important than that.
            The princes of Judah have become like those who move the landmark… Hos 5:10.  The wicked kings of God’s people had blurred the lines between right and wrong, between good and evil.  The standard became which will make me wealthier or more important among my peers, rather than which is right in the eyes of God.  Which is more convenient, which is easier, which do I like the best, which appeals to my lusts?  All of these have been used to move the boundaries of right and wrong in people’s lives for thousands of years.  When the government does it too, we have an instant excuse.  After all, it’s not against the law, is it?
            Do you think it hasn’t happened to us?  What do you accept now that you would never have accepted thirty years ago because you knew that the Bible said it was wrong?  Now people come along and tell you the Bible is a book of myths or the Bible only means what you want it to mean.  They have moved the landmark, and many have accepted it.
            God does not move landmarks.  What He says goes—then and now.  He may have changed the rituals we perform in each dispensation, but basic morality—right and wrong--has not and will not change.  Even Jesus used the argument, “But from the beginning it was not so…” (Matt 19:8). 
            We can move the landmarks all we want, but we will still wind up on the Devil’s property, and God will know the difference, whether we accept it or not.
 
​Do not move an ancient landmark or enter the fields of the fatherless, for their Redeemer is strong; he will plead their cause against you. Prov 23:10-11
 
Dene Ward

I can remember my daddy uttering those very words every time we pulled up to what was then called a “service station,” a glassed-in office with two service bays and usually two gas islands, sporting regular, premium and mid-grade pumps, the older models rounded on the top and the newer ones square-cornered and squat.  An attendant came out of one of the bays, summoned to us by the double-ding of the bell hoses we ran over with both front and rear tires, usually wiping his hands with a greasy blue rag, and did the honors while we sat in the car waiting.  He also checked the water in the radiator and battery, and cleaned the windshields.  When the pump kicked off, he carefully finished filling the tank and then bent his head to the open window to tell us the amount we owed.  If we paid cash, he brought back change.  If we used our gas company credit card, he took it and ran it, bringing back a dark blue clipboard with slip attached and a pen for a signature.
            The first drive-in gas station similar to that one, opened in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, on December 1, 1913.  According to Smithsonian Magazine it sat on the corner of Baum Boulevard and St Clair Street.  Before that drivers pumped gas from curbside pumps beginning in 1905, or bought gasoline in cans from pharmacies and blacksmith shops.  This new full service station in Pittsburgh offered free air and water, and a few basic maintenance services for crankcases and tires.  This station was opened by the Gulf Refining Company, which would have made my daddy proud to know since he worked for that company most of his adult life.
            Back to the station I sat in as a child, we never left the car, never lifted a finger.  It was all done for us.  Maybe that’s why we seem to expect God to “fill ‘er up” without having to make any effort at all ourselves.  Maybe that’s what we’re thinking when we sit in our pews on Sunday morning—we’re expecting the teachers, song leaders, and preachers to “fill ‘her up.” 
            “I didn’t get anything out of services this morning,” we say, as if that were the only purpose to our being there, to allow others to wait on us just like an attendant at an old-fashioned service station; as if that were the only possible way to fill oneself up spiritually.
            Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled, Matt 5:6.  Do we really think that righteousness can be poured in like gasoline, that we can sit passively while it happens?
            John tells us, Whoever practices righteousness is righteous, 1 John 3:7.  Being filled with righteousness has far more to do with what I do anywhere else besides a church building than it does with listening to a sermon and expecting to walk away holy because of it.
            God also expects us to fill ourselves with knowledge.  Anyone who thinks that comes from osmosis on Sunday mornings as we doze in our pews or play with the babies in front of us had better not apply for a school teaching job any time soon. You won’t keep it long.
            Paul says, And so, from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God, Colossians 1:9-10.  Becoming knowledgeable takes work far above and beyond listening to a couple hours a week of sermons and Bible classes.  Making it stick means applying what you learn, “bearing fruit” as you put that knowledge into practice.
            But others have the problem of which tank to use.  They seem satisfied with “regular.”  Since my daddy worked for Gulf, we always went to Gulf stations.  “Regular” was called “Good Gulf” and premium was called “Gulftane,” a play on the fact that the octane was higher.  A soul created in the image of God requires nothing less than premium.
            I read a book once in which the writer was at a loss to know how to refill herself after giving so much to marriage, children, and society.  Her problem was thinking she could do it herself, with things that have no eternal existence and purpose.  She was trying to fill up on “regular.”   Christians know better.
            May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope, Romans 15:13.
            “Fill ‘er up,” we used to say to the gas attendant.  Far more important, we should say it to God, and then do our part as He fills us to the brim.  It’s the only way to keep your life from running on empty.
 
And it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God, Philippians 1:9-11.
 
Dene Ward