The first in a five part series that will appear every morning this week.

When you live in Florida, and probably anywhere in the Caribbean and along the Gulf Coast, you keep an eye on the weather from June 1 till November 30—hurricane season.  My earliest memory of hurricanes was Donna in 1960.  The next was Alma in 1966.  I know there were others that made a Florida landfall, Cleo and Dora, for instance, in 1964, Betsy in 65, and Inez in 66, but they must not have affected my very young life.  After that, we lived in Tampa which did not have a major hit for nearly 100 years, or so I recently heard.

              As a newlywed, we lived out of state for five years so I was hardly aware of Agnes in 72 and Eloise in 75, which created a 12-16 foot storm surge from Panama City to Ft Walton Beach.  Then we moved back to Florida and suddenly hurricanes were a fact of life again, one made more real because of the two little boys we now had to protect. 

              There was Elena in 85, which sent us to our first evacuation shelter.  Andrew in 92 was the one that really opened our eyes to the danger of hurricanes.  Good thing because Florida landfalls picked up suddenly after his arrival.  Gordon in 94 whipped around and made a U-turn, hitting Florida twice.  Erin in 95 followed suit with two landfalls in the state and then Opal arrived only a few weeks afterward with catastrophic damage.  Georges wiped out the Keys in 98 and Floyd came along the east coast in 99, giving us all a good scare.  Then 2004 brought four hurricanes over the state in only a few weeks—Charlie, Frances, Jeanne, and Ivan, which actually made its first landfall in Alabama, wiping out the Florida panhandle which sat on its dangerous eastern side, then crossing the southeast, heading back into the Atlantic, and traveling down to cross South Florida.  And those are just the highlights.

              So when Irma came rolling off the coast of Africa we kept an eye on her all the way across the Atlantic and into the Caribbean.  We watched as she grew from a tropical wave into a depression into a storm and finally into a hurricane.  We watched while her winds increased daily, peaking out at 185 mph—category 5.

              They kept telling us it would turn north—first, in time to miss the mainland altogether, then in time to miss Florida and bounce off the Carolinas, then in time to plow into Georgia.  Then we were told that Miami would take a direct hit and Irma would skirt our eastern coast and off to the northeast Atlantic.  Then the forecast moved west a bit, with this recalcitrant hurricane forecast to come straight up the spine of the state as a category 5.  By then she was really close, so that is what we had to plan for.

              If you have seen those Saffir-Simpson animations, you know what a category 5 will do to a house—destroy it.  That's what a category 2 will do to a mobile home.  We have lived in a doublewide "manufactured home" for 35 years.  Obviously we've taken care of it—a roofover, siding, skirting, hurricane tie-downs that were up to code at the time.  The inside has been practically rebuilt as the years passed and we saved enough money to do so.  But we were still facing the real possibility—probability—of losing it all.  That only took into consideration the winds, not the massive live oaks that spread their branches over us and make our air conditioning bill manageable.  Any one branch of those trees could destroy the house.

              And so we had some decisions to make.  What if we lost it all?  What would we try to save?  It surprised me how little it was.

              We packed a suitcase each of basics:  jeans, tees, underwear and socks, and a couple pairs of shoes.  After a hurricane there is neither time nor inclination for dressing up.  We packed photo albums, bank account ledgers and checks, 2 back-up thumb drives of files on the computer.

              We filled a box with our Bibles and all the notes from every class either of us has ever taught.  I added the September schedule for this blog in case I could find a way to keep it going.  Then we added probably a dozen books that were special to us, less than 5% of the total number we own.

              We are experienced campers.  If the house was destroyed, we planned to use the tent as housing until something permanent could be arranged.  So we packed a cooler, paper plates, paper towels, and cloth towels—things that needed to stay dry.  We figured we could find the rest of our camping gear in the debris.

              Everything we packed fit into the covered bed of the pickup, the trunk of the car, and its backseat. 

              I remember thinking, "We know that someday we will have to leave this place and downsize and we wondered what we would keep.  I guess we just found out."

              Keith nearly echoed my thoughts after our day of packing.  "We started from scratch 43 years ago.  We can do it again."

              There was a sadness about it, yes, and I shed a few tears, but that was all the time I had for that nonsense.  Irma was coming and time was short.  We had prayed for her demise for weeks and continued to for 24 more long hours.  But there was also a sense of acceptance as she came closer and closer.  When you pray, "Thy will be done," there must be, or it isn't really faith.
 
I hear, and my body trembles; my lips quiver at the sound; rottenness enters into my bones; my legs tremble beneath me. Yet I will quietly wait for the day of trouble to come... Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, ​yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. GOD, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer's; he makes me tread on my high places... (Hab 3:16-19). 

Dene Ward

We eat a lot of soup.  It’s cheap, filling, and healthy.  Even a 400 calorie bowlful is a good meal, and most are far less fattening, coming in at about 200 per serving.  You won’t get tired of it because of the nearly infinite variety. 

              We have had ham and bean soup, navy bean soup, and white bean and rosemary soup.  We’ve had cream of potato soup, baked potato soup, and loaded baked potato soup.  I’ve made bouillabaisse, chicken tortilla, pasta Fagioli, and egg drop soups.  For more special occasions I have prepared shrimp bisque, French onion, and vichyssoise.  We’ve warmed our bones with gumbo, mulligatawny, and clam chowder.  I’ve made practically every vegetable soup there is including broccoli cheese soup, roasted tomato soup, and lentil soup.  And if you want just plain soup, I have even made chicken noodle.  You can have soup every week for a year and not eat the same one twice.

              Not only is it cheap to make, it’s usually cheap to buy.  Often the lowest priced item on a menu is a cup of soup.  I can remember it less than a dollar in my lifetime.  Even now it’s seldom over $3.50.  So why in the world would I ever exchange a bowl of soup for something valuable?

              By now your mind should have flashed back to Jacob and Esau.  Jacob must have been some cook.  I have seen the soup he made that day described as everything from lentils to kidney beans to meat stew.  It doesn’t really matter.  It was a simple homespun dish, not even a gourmet concoction of some kind.

              Usually people focus on Jacob, tsk-tsk-ing about his conniving and manipulation, but think about Esau today.  Yes, he was tired and hungry after a day’s hunt.  But was he really going to starve?  I’ve had my men come in from a day of chopping wood and say, “I could eat a horse,” but not only did I not feed them one, they would not have eaten it if I had.  “I’m starving,” is seldom literal.

              The Bible makes Esau’s attitude plain.  After selling his birthright—his double inheritance—for a bowl of soup, Moses writes, Thus Esau despised his birthright, Gen 25:34.  If that inheritance had the proper meaning to him, it would have taken far more than any sort of meal to get it away from him.  As it was, that was one expensive bowl of soup!

              The Hebrew writer uses another word for Esau—profane--a profane person such as Esau, who for one mess of meat sold his own birthright, Heb 12:16.  That word means “unholy.”  It means things pertaining to fleshly existence as opposed to spiritual, things relevant to men rather than God.  It is the exact opposite of “sacred” and “sanctified.”  Jacob understood the value of the birthright, and he also understood his brother’s carnal nature.  He had him pegged.  So did God.

              What important things are we selling for a mess of pottage?  Have you sold your family for the sake of a career?  Have you sold your integrity for the sake of wealth?  Have you sold your marriage for the sake of a few “I told you so’s?”  Have you sold your place in the body of Christ for a few opinions?  Have you sold your soul for the pleasure you can have here and now?

              Examine your life today, the things you have settled for instead of working for, the things you have given up and the things you gave them up for.  Have you made some really bad deals?  Can you even recognize the true value of what you have lost?  Don’t despise the blessings God has given you.  Don’t sell your family, or your character, or your soul for a bowl of soup.
 
Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us. For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, Phil 3:17-20.
 
Dene Ward
 

I was doing research for a recent Bible class, wondering how a polygamous family arranged its living quarters, when I made a discovery.  Fred Wight in his Manners and Customs of Bible Lands, quoting George Scherer, said that there was no Hebrew word for “home.”  The closest thing is a word we would translate “house,” but which simply indicates “shelter” or “refuge.”  To them a house is nothing more than a place to stay warm and dry. 

            The Hebrews did not believe any place on this earth was their home; they were “sojourners” as long as they lived.  They spent as much time as possible outdoors with the God they worshipped and went inside only when necessary.  Even the exterior of their houses was seldom inviting.  They simply saw no need in spending money on anything transitory and unspiritual.

            What a difference in their culture and ours, and it certainly colored a lot of my reading afterward.  Notice these passages of scripture.

            I am a sojourner in the earth: hide not your commandments from me. Your statutes have been my songs in the house of my pilgrimage Psa 119:19,54.

            For we are strangers before you, and sojourners, as all our fathers were: our days on the earth are as a shadow, and there is no abiding. 1 Chron 29:15.

            These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth, Heb 11:13.

            Beloved, I beseech you as sojourners and pilgrims, to abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul; having your behavior seemly among the Gentiles; that, wherein they speak against you as evil-doers, they may by your good works, which they behold, glorify God in the day of visitation, 1 Pet 2:10,11.

            Have you noticed the first thing many newly rich people do?  They build themselves a fine house.  Have you noticed what people do when they get older and feel that they have “finally arrived?”  They buy themselves a bigger, better house, even after they no longer have a family to fill it with.  Why is it that a “dream house” appeals to so many of us?  It certainly cannot be security because nothing will draw thieves like a house that promises even more fine things inside it to steal, and the recent spate of storms proves that even big houses can be destroyed in the wink of an eye.

            I think it’s about attachment to this world and the pride that says we should have certain things “befitting our station in life.”  Since when is a Christian worried about such things?  We need to have a little more of the Hebrew mindset.  It really shouldn’t matter to us what we live in or where.  This world is not our home, we so often sing.  Are we lying when we do so? 

            I think back on the Garden of Eden, the perfect home God made for his children.  Do you realize nothing is said about a beautiful house there?  The garden was the perfect place, the place where in the evening God walked with his children. 

            Wherever God is, that is our true home.  When we really believe that, so much that happens here will no longer matter.  That perspective will help us overcome sin, bear trials, and serve others.  That realization will keep us from coveting another’s wealth, including his fancy house, and it will keep us from wrecking our stewardship trying to buy things we cannot afford, and make us content with what we can.

            Home is where the heart is, we say.  Where is your heart this morning?
 
"Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also, Matt 6:19-21.
 
Dene Ward

I am sure you have heard it too.  “God wouldn’t want me to be unhappy.”

              We have completely misunderstood the purpose of God when we think our happiness here has anything to do with it.  If it is possible, I believe he wants it so, but if it isn’t, if I have gotten myself into a fix that cannot be unraveled, if my being miserable in this life will accomplish his purpose, I know which matters more to him.  He is in the position to see the end, while I am stuck here seeing only the here and now and, far too often, neither learning from the past nor considering the future.  God knows what is best, and what is best is eternal salvation—the next life, not this one. 

              God has been saying this for thousands of years, but just like the ones who did not want to hear what Jesus had to say about his kingdom, we don’t want to hear what God has had to say about our physical lives. 

              Think of Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and others who suffered long and hard to accomplish their missions.  Think of Josiah who, because of his diligence in restoring the worship of Jehovah among his people, was given the reward of an early death—he would not have to see their punishment.  Think of John the Baptist who lived a short life precisely because God wanted it that way.  He had accomplished what was necessary—preaching repentance and preparing the people for the Messiah.  That mattered more than living a long, “happy” life.   He even came to realize it when he told his disciples, “He must increase and I must decrease.”  In this case, his “decrease” meant he had to be removed so the conflict, and even the jealousy, between his disciples and Jesus’ disciples would disappear.  Imagine what that would have done to God’s plan.  God used the machinations of a wicked woman to do it, but his purpose was accomplished, and John, the greatest ever born at the time (Matt 11:11), never had a normal “happy” life. 

              When did Paul say that David died?  Not after he got old and had lived a full life, but after “serving the purpose of the Lord,” Acts 13:36.  That’s what he was here for, and nothing else.  If you could talk to him now, I bet you he would say that the sorrows he bore were well worth it. 

              Paul makes a distinction between walking “in the flesh” and “according to the flesh,” 2 Cor 10:2,3.  He talks about people who make decisions “according to the flesh,” 1:17; he mentions those who live their entire lives not as people interested in their spiritual lives, but only in their physical lives, 1 Cor 3:1-3.  We may have to live as physical beings, but God expects us to keep our minds on the spiritual not the physical; on his purpose, not our selfish aims; on the eternal, not the temporal. 

              It is not my plans that matter.  Do I think that because I was only a Eunice I had no hand in the salvation of the souls Timothy’s preaching produced?  Do I think that because I was a Zebedee I had nothing to do with what my sons accomplished for the kingdom?  Those two people certainly fulfilled an important part of God’s plan.  To have tried to have been something other than they were because of their own selfish ambitions would have been to second guess God’s plan.

              Sometimes we don’t get what we want.  Sometimes God does want us to be unhappy in this life, if it means the salvation of souls.  Yes, he does mean for some to remain unmarried if they have ruined their chances for a scriptural marriage.  Yes, he does mean for some to remain in miserable marriages as long as possible.  Yes, he does mean for some to remain celibate if their “natural” tendency is to gravitate toward a sinful relationship.  Yes, he does mean for some to spend years of their lives paying society for their crimes even though they have repented.  Yes, he does mean for us to give up our life plans for the sake of his Eternal Plan.  Yes, he does mean for us to suffer illness and die, to be victims of accidents and calamities and perish, “for time and chance happen to all.”  If I think being happy in this life on this earth is the aim, I have missed the point of my existence altogether. 

              So whether or not I become blind in this life, whether you live long or die early, whether your marriage is good or bad, whether you feel fulfilled in your chosen occupation, none of those is the issue.  The question is, what can I do for God?  What can I do for others?  What can I do to ensure my own soul’s salvation?  Until I can accept God’s plan for me with joy, especially when it is something I do not want and had not planned on, I am not yet living the attitude “thy will be done.”
 
For none of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself. For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's. For to this end Christ died and lived again, that he might be Lord both of the dead and of the living, Rom 14:7-9.
 
Dene Ward

Growing tomatoes can be easy, but if you must deal with poor soil instead of rich loam, it isn’t.  If you have bacteria-infected soil, it isn’t.  If blights, mildews, and fungi abound, it isn’t.  If the insects rise in swarms every time you bump a plant, it isn’t.  We have all of the above, so growing tomatoes here in our sub-tropical “paradise” is certainly not easy.

            Every year we have a handful of plants that grow to about a foot’s height, then stop.  Their leaves curl and they never set a bloom.  They remain green and don’t die outright, but they don’t grow and they don’t produce fruit.  We call them the “frizzled plants” because of the curled leaves and the stunted growth.  If we are not careful, our spiritual growth can be stunted in the same way.

            Listening and considering new ideas is imperative to spiritual growth, to improving our attitudes and characters.  Keith has actually come across a couple of people who have told him, “Even if you could show me in the Bible where I’m wrong, I wouldn’t change.  I’m comfortable where I am.”  A comfort zone is prime territory for stunted growth.  What do you do but sit there and watch their leaves curl?

            Others have a pride issue.  They can’t possibly be wrong about anything.  Hear the sarcasm in Job’s voice as he deals with his so-called friends: “No doubt you are the [only wise] people, and wisdom will die with you,” 12:2.  When people will not listen to anyone else, they will only grow as far as their own knowledge will reach, and then stop.

            Parents can stifle growth when they view differing opinions as disrespect.  Even parents who don’t mean to do so are used as an excuse not to listen.  “But my daddy said…”  Don’t you think Daddy had enough personal integrity to change his mind if someone showed him he was in error?

            Indifference can stunt your growth.  In fact, it is a wonder some people managed to germinate a seed at all, much less grow enough to look at least a little like a Christian.  Their apathy prevents them from getting any farther.

            Wealth can strangle you so that the seed never receives the nourishment it needs. They are those who hear the word, but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches and the desires for other things enter in and choke the word, and it proves unfruitful. Mark 4:19.

            Immaturity, which Paul repeatedly calls carnality in 1 Corinthians, can stunt your growth.  When you are concerned about the wrong things and your perspective is distorted, when you can’t see beyond the instant gratification of things, status and the opinion of others, you will never comprehend the true necessities of spiritual life.  You certainly won’t grow in the grace and knowledge of the Lord.

            We need to look at ourselves and the things that matter most to us.  Examine your spiritual growth in the past year or two.  Can you see a difference, or are you still sitting in exactly the same place with curled leaves and no fruit on your limbs?  Are you stretching those limbs upward, or do they droop to the earth, where the only things that matter to you happen to be?

            What is getting in the way of your growth?  Don’t be a frizzled tomato plant.
 
The righteous flourish like the palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the LORD; they flourish in the courts of our God. They still bear fruit in old age; they are ever full of sap and green, Psa 92:12-14.
 
Dene Ward

Wrens are known for making their nests in strange places.  On the carport, the old exercise bike has become the place to hang things, including the old coffee can we use to scoop Chloe’s feed from the fifty pound bag, and then shove sideways on one handle bar until the next morning.  One Saturday afternoon, after Keith had used the can in the morning, a wren couple went to work right under our noses and built a nest inside it in less than an hour.  When we discovered it, Keith grabbed some duct tape and ran a piece along the side of the can onto the handlebar to hold it steady.  We both hated the thought of the wind or a jostle by one of us knocking the can to the ground, especially after the eggs were laid.

            We have been checking the nest every few days, bending down with a flashlight to look inside.  That mother is obviously devoted, sitting there staring at us through the beam, not moving a muscle though we are only a few feet away from her.  We try to make our intrusions short and no more than once every other day or so.  Last Saturday we looked in and saw a mouth.  An hour or so later there were three more--a fuzzy gray mound of down and four wide open mouths, swaying back and forth, eagerly searching for whatever we might have brought.  I hated to disappoint them.

            From time to time we see the parents flying back and forth.  They come with a mouthful and leave just a few seconds later—over and over and over.  The only time those tiny mouths are closed is when the babies are asleep.  While they are awake, mama and daddy get no rest for they are never satisfied.  It is never enough.

            That is exactly what God should see from us—wide open mouths.  If you think attending every service and even extra Bible studies makes you one who “hungers and thirsts after righteousness,” you have missed the point.  Certainly we need the nourishment provided when the flock is fed the word of Life, but that isn’t even half of it.  Like newborn infants, long for the spiritual milk that by it you may grow up unto salvation, Peter tells us in his first epistle, 2:1.  The point is the longing for the spiritual instead of the physical; understanding that the point of this life is training for the next.

            Yes, you need a good background in the scriptures.  I am often appalled at how poorly my brethren know them.  But where there is no desire for righteousness there will be no spirituality.  Where there is no longing for God, learning facts will simply be an intellectual exercise.  We must be like baby birds—nothing but a wide open mouth that will not be satisfied until the bread of life has completely filled it. 

            What are you longing for today?  Wealth will not satisfy.  Health will not satisfy.  Status and fame, not even our fifteen minutes’ worth, will satisfy.  The only true satisfaction can come from God. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore…For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water…, Rev 7:16-17.

            The only way to receive that promise—for your hunger and thirst to be filled--is to be hungry and thirsty in the first place. We should all be nothing less than another hungry mouth to feed.
 
As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like the bread the fathers ate and died. Whoever feeds on this bread will live forever." John  6:57-58.                    

Dene Ward

The way we camp now is considerably different than the way we started.  The first year, when the boys were 3 and 5, we left on a 10 day trip with two suitcases, one tent, a camp stove, a propane lantern, and a couple of pots stuffed into our car trunk.  What we have now fills the back of a camper-topped pickup to the brim.  When Lucas went with us for the first time in nearly 20 years, he smirked and said, “You guys don’t rough it.  You camp in style.”

            Yes, we put a screen over the table now so we can eat without bugs, and even in the rain.  We have a larger tent, and pull an extension cord in through one of the zipped windows to plug into an electric blanket and stuff it inside the double sleeping bag.  Since we camp in the fall and winter that only makes good sense.  So does the queen-size eighteen inch high air mattress—getting up off the ground is not so easy any more.

            Keith designed and rigged up a PVC-pipe light pole from which we hang a couple of trouble lights, and we sit in our outdoor lounge chairs by the fire now, instead of always at the table.  We carry a couple of wooden tray tables to hold our coffee cups and the books we are reading.

            We have two stoves now instead of just one, but since they are only two burner stoves and you run out of room when breakfast includes pancakes and sausage on a two burner griddle and a stovetop coffeepot, that has become a necessity too.  I also found a folding rack that hooks to the side of the picnic table to hold things like paper towels, antibacterial wipes, dishwashing liquid, and salt and pepper so we have more room on the table itself.

            Yes, we camp “in style” now, but I would still never leave my modest home to do it all the time.  Eight to ten days a year is fun because it is different, but every day would be a pain in the neck, especially considering the relative luxury I am used to.

            I think we miss the first, and huge, sacrifice Abraham and Sarah made.  Our arrogance tells us they were primitive people anyway, so what was the big deal when God called them?  Here is the big deal:  God called them out of Ur, a thriving metropolis for its time.  One book I read said the city had its own educational system and some form of running water. 

            Abraham was a wealthy man.  He had an entourage of servants that included an army of 318 trained men (Gen 14:14).  Whenever he arrived at a new place with his thousands of flocks and herds and hundreds of servants, the kings wanted to meet him.  Undoubtedly, they were anxious to know why he was there, and not a little afraid of the possible reason.  Especially in a small city-state like Gerar, Abimelech had reason to worry—Abraham’s army might actually have been bigger than his!  Imagine the home they must have lived in, and the status that wealthy couple must have enjoyed before they left Ur.

            Yet when God said go, Abraham and Sarah went.  They left a fine home in a then-modern city to wander in places they were only promised and often unwelcome.  I imagine they “camped in style” for the time, far better than the desert nomads because of their wealth, but it was still camping.  No more running water--even the kind they had back then--constantly subject to the weather, sand in your clothes and probably in your food if the wind blew wrong.  Can you imagine Bill and Melissa Gates leaving their various homes to live in an RV for the rest of their lives, much less a tent?  Do you think they would do it even if it were the best RV money could buy?  Even if they had a caravan of RVs behind them, holding their most important employees?  And especially if they had to do it in a foreign country less advanced than ours?

            I don’t see that happening.  Even with your less than Gates-esque dwelling, would you give up your own cozy bedroom, where you could walk a few steps to the bathroom in the middle of the night should you need it?  Where you could stay warm and dry regardless the weather?  Where you have places to store all your “stuff?”  Where you have a job and financial security, and a place in a community that accepts you?

            Abraham and Sarah had a long way to go in more ways than one when God called them.  Yet God saw in them a faith that would grow and a trust that would never give up.  He believed that with his tender cultivation, Abraham would become “the father of the faithful,” and Sarah the mother of all godly women and the “princess” through whom the King of kings would eventually be born.

            What do you think God sees in you?  Do you have that potential?  He thinks so or he never would have sent his Son to die for you.  Here is the test for today:  would he have even bothered to tell me to pick up and go, or am I too tied to this world and its luxuries?  He may never ask you to give it all up, but he must see in you a willingness to do so if the need arises. 

            If he does call and you go, God may allow you, like Abraham and Sarah, to camp in style, but it’s still camping.  He expects you to understand that the real home is ahead of you.
 
So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple. Luke 14:33
 
Dene Ward

Our last camping trip was typical—it rained on Tuesday.  However, the rain came with a slight variation this time. 

            We managed to get through all the daylight hours with clear sunny skies as we tramped all over Lookout Mountain and Chickamauga battlefield.  In fact, if it had not been for the exorbitant parking meters, we could have made any of the 2-7 mile hikes featured on the brochure we picked up without getting wet.

            So we headed back to the campsite for grilled half-pound burgers, potato salad, and baked beans.  We even managed to wash the dishes and get our evening showers.  Then, as we sat by the fire, the lightning lit up the sky, silhouetting the trees around us.  Fifteen minutes later the first raindrop fell and we scampered into the screen tent to finish our evening at the picnic table, reading, studying for Bible classes, and doing crossword puzzles.

            The next morning the rain had stopped, but it was still gray and damp.  By afternoon the wind picked up and cooled off, but the front had not yet passed.  The gray skies continued and a mist, too heavy for sitting by the fire with a book, filled the air around us.  Once again we were relegated to the screen, and as we sat at the table in the cold, damp wind, we became more and more miserable.  Ordinarily, sitting by the fire will keep you warm enough, along with the several layers of clothing we pile on, but the mist made that solution impossible.  We were soon wrapped in blankets struggling to keep our minds on our studies.  Before long, we gave up and crawled into the tent and sleeping bags.  Finally we were warm enough.

            The next morning we woke to more gray skies, but after breakfast, the sun peeked through.  As I walked to the bathhouse to brush my teeth, I took a moment to look straight up between the treetops—a bright cerulean sky everywhere!  I did my own version of Snoopy’s happy dance, holding out my arms and twirling in a circle—yessssss!!!!

            Funny how such a simple thing can make you so happy.  I had been reduced to living at the mercy of nature instead of climate controlled technology, and had suddenly developed a deep appreciation for something as simple as a sunny day.  The temperatures plummeted that night, the coldest we had all week, but we were able to sit by a fire and appreciated it far more than we would have a hotel room because of what we had endured the night before.  In fact, when we got home, our humble dwelling seemed a palace.

            I have contemplated this phenomenon often, usually right after we return from a camping trip. Have we let our technologically advanced, richer-than-ever society spoil us to the appreciation of the necessities of life God has granted us?  Would anyone ever do a “happy dance” for a blue sky, or does it have to be a trip to Disneyworld, a new Mercedes, or a new gadget that keeps us from having to think too hard, organize our lives for ourselves, or pick up a phone book?

            The early Christians rejoiced in things we would complain about, or even lose our faith over.  For you had compassion on those in prison, and you joyfully accepted the plundering of your property, since you knew that you yourselves had a better possession and an abiding one. Heb 10:34.  They therefore departed from the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the Name. Acts 5:41.  Would we be able to do a happy dance about those things?

            Those Christians, very new Christians in fact, knew that trials were a good thing.  They made them stronger, they made priorities obvious, they made them notice and appreciate their blessings as they should.  Those people understood that sin never satisfies, that the sinner will only “wax worse and worse,” as he seeks to find joy in debauchery, selfishness, and the fulfillment of every lust.  But the joy of being in Christ will fulfill the soul no matter what is happening on the outside, no matter what the body must put up with, no matter the pain, suffering, or even death that awaits us.

            Have you done a happy dance lately?  Should I ask what made you so happy?  How long has that happiness lasted, and what other feelings did that “thing” eventually bring?  Sin, or even material things that are not necessarily sinful, will only satisfy for a moment.  Wouldn’t you like to be doing a happy dance forever?
 
Do you not know this from of old, since man was placed on earth, that the exulting of the wicked is short, and the joy of the godless but for a moment? He will fly away like a dream and not be found; he will be chased away like a vision of the night. Because he knew no contentment in his belly, he will not let anything in which he delights escape him. There was nothing left after he had eaten; therefore his prosperity will not endure. In the fullness of his sufficiency he will be in distress…The possessions of his house will be carried away, dragged off in the day of God's wrath. This is the wicked man's portion from God, the heritage decreed for him by God. Job 20: 4,5,8,20-22,28-29.
 
Dene Ward
 

This time of year we see a lot of birds passing through on their migration back north.  Sandhill cranes fly right over us following the same flight path as the jets, helicopters, and blimps, from our southeast corner to our northwest boundary post.  You can hear them coming from miles away.  A couple of goldfinches visit our feeder for two or three days in the spring and fall.  Their bright yellow is hard to miss, even for me.  A painted bunting thrills us with his lightning quick “here and gone” visits.  A blue grosbeak couple spent a few weeks with us last spring.  They actually take the time to nest and breed before moving on.

              A few weeks ago we had another two day visitor—a woodcock.  He’s an odd-looking fellow, a foot long or less, with a chunky body, a striped head and a long thin bill.  He looks a bit like a bent old man with a cane.  I watched as he walked around the foot of the feeder, poking that bill into the ground again and again like a baker checking for the doneness of her cake.  Suddenly he plunged his beak to the hilt, then began pumping away.  He’s found something, I thought, and sure enough he began to pull up a long black worm.  The worm did its best to hold onto the last clod of dirt, stretching like melted cheese on a pizza, but eventually he popped out and the woodcock downed him in the blink of an eye.  The next day the woodcock was gone too, another sojourner on his way home.

              We sing a song:  “This world is not my home, I’m just a-passing through.”  Is that how we really feel?  Those migrating birds have no problem leaving behind feeders full of seeds that magically replenish themselves.  They’re here and gone without a thought for what’s left behind.  Even the grosbeaks who stay long enough to build a nest and raise a few chicks will up and leave as soon as the task is accomplished.

              And what do we do but spend our time, money, and effort on the temporary with little thought for the eternal.  We don’t just build a nest, we build a monument.  “This is where someone like me ought to be living and this is the type of house I ought to have in the neighborhood I ought to have it.”  Would we spend that much time, money, and effort on a motel room?  Because that’s all this world is.  How about spending that much time, money, and effort on the treasure in heaven?

              You’re just a goldfinch passing though for a couple of days.  Even the birds know where home really is.

These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city. (Heb 11:13-16)

Dene Ward

I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. Phil 4:11
 
            As many times as I have read that verse it has only been recently that I noticed something about it.  Some people seem content whereas others are never satisfied, always ambitious, trying to fly higher, live higher, and be higher than they are at any given moment.  It’s just a basic personality difference, right?  No, Paul says that contentment is something you learn.
 
           Paul was certainly on the fast track that day as he walked toward Damascus.  He had had a prestigious education and was highly esteemed by the Jewish leadership even as a young man.  He almost certainly would have wound up on the Sanhedrin and lived life in at least the upper middle classes if not the aristocratic upper class.  And he gave it all up.  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 and be found in him, Phil 3:7-9.
 
           So how did he learn to be content with less money, less comfort, less esteem, less of just about everything than he had planned and expected out of life?  He tells us himself.
 
           Paul rejoiced, not in fame and fortune, but in the Lord (3:7; 4:4).  He found happiness in his relationship with God and Christ, and with the knowledge of his salvation.  That is also why he considered dying to be “gain” (1:21).  Is there anything that should cause us more joy than knowing we will live with our God for eternity?  And being happy is perhaps the greatest key to contentment.
 
           He used the avenue of prayer (4:6,7).  That prayer gave him peace of mind because he was no longer anxious.  He had turned everything over to God and trusted him to provide.  It is easier to be content when you know someone else is in control.
 
           He was careful what he thought about (4:8).  I learned a long time ago to avoid looking at house plans and stop walking through model homes.  I never window shop for things I cannot afford anyway.  I never indulge in “What if I won a million dollars?” daydreams.  Those things don’t bother some people, but they are exactly the kinds of things that make me discontent.  As long as I avoid doing those things I am perfectly happy with my life.  What kinds of things do you need to avoid thinking about?   Fill your mind instead with Paul’s list:  whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
 
           Paul learned the lessons that life had to teach him (4:12).  Too many times we go through situations and events, completely missing the abundance of wisdom we could be learning and stowing away for the future.  We may be going through a particular trial for exactly that reason—God wants us to learn something.  Maybe it’s learning the relative importance of things.  Maybe it’s how to handle a problem so we can help others later on who have the same trial.  Pay attention to what’s happening and use it to grow, not to fail the test of faith.  When you know there’s a reason, even if you cannot figure out exactly what it is, it is much easier to be content.

            Paul also took advantage of the help he was given, not just any help, but Divine help.  I can do all things through him who strengthens me, (4:13).  With that kind of help you can learn to handle anything, or don’t you believe Christ is more powerful than the devil?  It’s one or the other.

            Paul tells us that we can learn the same contentment he had.  What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me--practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you, (4:9).  He says you can do it.  He says I can do it.  We can all learn to be content no matter what life throws at us, and in that learning, gain the peace that only the God of peace can give.
 
Now there is great gain in godliness with contentment, for we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world. But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content, 1 Tim 6:6-8.
 
Dene Ward