We have recently discovered phoebes on our property, seven inch gray birds with light olive bellies and a slightly darker head.  Even though we have been birding for twelve years now, this is the first we have seen of these.  Being insect eaters, seed-filled feeders hold no interest for them, so I have never seen one from my chair by the window.  They are strictly carnivores.

              Their behavior is what gives them away—their “hawking.”  They sit on a bare tree branch and watch the ground below.  When a bug catches their eye, they swoop down for the kill, then fly right back to the same branch, and wait for another.  Sort of bloodthirsty for such a cute little bird.

              They have been using the trees on the edge of the garden, a place where insects abound and we are happy to have their help ridding the plants of them.  Now we have a much smaller fall garden, a few peppers and tomatoes, and the cooler temperatures mean fewer bugs.  Maybe that is why they have moved in closer, sitting atop tomato posts, waiting for their prey to creep by.

              And last week we saw yet another new bug eater.  Keith planted about 70% of the garden in sorghum.  The huge seed heads on these plants attract both wildlife and birds.  That was his main intention—to help feed the seed-eating birds and perhaps attract even more to the feeders closer to the house.  That sorghum patch is where we saw the new bird, a five inch olive green bird, with a yellow throat, a black mask, and a long thin beak.  My bird books tell us he is a yellowthroat, one of the many varieties of warbler.  He, too, practices hawking and being smaller and lighter he can perch on the head of those thin-stemmed sorghum plants without bending them over.  He is not there for the seeds but, like the phoebes, to watch for any bugs that crawl by.  Sometimes he is lucky and one will be deeply imbedded in the seed head itself.  All he has to do is lean over and probe with that long thin beak deep between those seeds.  Lunch, without even having to dive for it.

              That is not why we planted sorghum.  It is not why we put posts by the tomatoes.  Yet right now, the phoebes and the yellowthroats are getting more out of the garden than we are.

              Sometimes Satan gets more use out of the good things we try to do than God does.  How many times has a healthy pastime become more important to us than our spiritual health?  I’ve seen women so concerned about their figures that they would no longer offer or accept meal invitations from other Christians, nor cook and take a meal to the needy.  I’ve seen Christian men spend more time toning up their physical muscles than studying to tone up their spiritual ones.  They won’t miss a work-out, but personal Bible study is a sometime thing.

              How many times has the job which was meant to support the family become an all-consuming career that robbed a home of involved parents or a spouse of a supposedly committed and devoted mate?  How many times has the money earned led to greed instead of generosity, and a dependence upon self rather than God?

              Just because something is not inherently sinful, doesn’t mean evil cannot come from it.  Just because you intend good from it, doesn’t mean the Devil can’t find a way to produce the opposite.

              One thing about those phoebes and yellowthroats—they make an excellent example of careful watching; their lives depend upon it.  Take a moment today to sit still and quiet and really look at the things in your life and what they are producing.  Your spiritual life depends upon it.
 
His beautiful ornament they used for pride, and they made their abominable images and their detestable things of it. Therefore I make it an unclean thing to them, Ezek 7:20.
 
Dene Ward

Twenty years ago I saw a dress in a catalogue that I adored.  My style tends to be plain, tailored, and dark.  I generally like a blousy waistline because it makes me look like I have one, which I haven’t had since I was about two years old.  Every time that catalogue came, I salivated over that dress, a black shirtwaist with long button-cuff sleeves and a broad, white collar embroidered on the edges.  At that time we just couldn’t afford it.  Feeding two teenage boys and paying a mortgage on a state salary and music studio tuitions was almost more than we could handle.

              A couple of years ago I was wandering through a second hand clothing store.  You would be surprised the bargains you can find if you are careful.  I have bought name brands for literally one-tenth their original price, some of them with the original price tags still on them, the extra buttons still sealed in plastic. 

              That day I saw the black arms hanging out from the press of the rack; I saw the white collar.  Could it be?  I checked the neckline for the label and found the old catalogue name.  So I pulled it out and felt a thrill.  This was the dress I had wished for.  Twenty years ago it was a $45 dress.  This store wanted $6.00!  Then came the moment of truth:  I checked the size.  Yes!  Just to make sure, I tried it on, and then quickly shelled out my $6 and change for tax.  It almost made me believe in fate.

              This dress is long sleeved and a fairly heavy knit so it was just after Thanksgiving before I could wear it here in Florida.  I wore it to church that Sunday.  One of the first people I saw, a sweet five year old, came running up and exclaimed, “Mrs. Dene!  You look just like a pilgrim!”  I laughed a little, gave her a hug and thanked her.  Before I was halfway down the hall, another child came running up and said the same thing, word for word. 

              Okay, I thought.  I look like a pilgrim.  Maybe it’s too close to Thanksgiving to wear this.

              In the middle of January I wore it again.  A third sweet child gave me the same compliment.  It was enough to make me wonder, do they teach this phrase in the Bible classes these days?  But I suppose what capped it all was a good friend who came up to me and laughed, saying, “You look like a pilgrim!”

              I donated the dress to another thrift store.  All I could see when I looked in the mirror were the missing white cap, buckled shoes and white stockings.  It certainly isn’t what I thought of when I used to moon over that catalogue.

              I wonder if Abraham and Sarah had in mind the pilgrim life God had planned for them when they answered the call to “Go to a land I will show you.”  That doesn’t necessarily sound like they would always be nomads.  It doesn’t sound like they would never have an earthly home again.  When someone tells me to go, usually they have a specific destination in mind.

              Even if they didn’t understand that in the beginning, they finally did.  By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God, Heb 11:8-10.  Eventually they knew they would never have a home on this earth, that the real one was waiting beyond the border of physical life and death.

              We must eventually, and as soon as possible, learn the same thing.  Our culture is too caught up in the here and now, in instant gratification, in “if it feels good do it.”  We think this is what matters.  That’s why we let it bother us so much when things do not go right.  That’s why we become angry over the inconsequential and throw away the truly valuable, including our hope.  They made me mad and they are going to know it!  They took what’s mine, and I have a right to take it back.  They hurt me and now I am going to hurt them—usually in exactly the same low way they hurt me. 

              If I know what it means to be a pilgrim in this world, none of that matters.  I don’t need to throw a tantrum.  I don’t need to get even.  I don’t need to have more and more and more because everyone else has it.  I don’t even need an easy, carefree life with no trials.  It will never compare to Heaven no matter how wonderful it is, and it certainly isn’t worth giving up Heaven for.

              Maybe I should have kept the “Pilgrim” dress.  Maybe it would have reminded me of things I need to remember, when I need to remember them most.  Maybe you need to wear it, too.
 
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. 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 11:13,15.
 
Dene Ward

Most families have just returned from a road trip of some variety this past summer.  You may not realize it, but this is a fairly recent development.  We seem to think that the Declaration of Independence lists our inalienable rights as “life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and a thousand dollar (or more) family vacation every year.”  When I was growing up we might have gone on two or three “vacations.”  The rest of the time we visited family, and that involved nothing but visiting—the adults talking and the children playing together.  Anywhere we might have gone while there was a free day trip—no admission fees—and lunch was usually a picnic we packed ourselves. 

              If it hadn’t been for discovering tent camping, my boys would not have had vacations either.  In those days you could pitch a tent in a state park for $7.00 a night, and cook your own meals over the campfire instead of eating out.  We also did our share of family visiting.  Although you hate to view your family as a “free motel,” it was the only way we could see them at least once a year.

              I like to think of this life as a road trip.  Too many people consider it the destination and that will skew your perspective in a bad way.  If you think this life is supposed to be the good part, you will sooner or later be severely disappointed.

              As we go along the road a lot of things happen.  We will be faced with decisions that are not easy to make, and which may turn out badly.  Sometimes we are too easy on ourselves, making excuses and rationalizing.  But other times we are entirely too hard on ourselves.  If you look back on a decision you made years ago, and find yourself wishing you had done things differently, that doesn’t necessarily mean you were wrong then.  Sometimes it simply means you were without experience, a little naïve, a lot ignorant.

              Let’s put it this way.  I live almost an hour north of Gainesville, Florida.  If I leave for Atlanta at 8 AM, it’s no shame if I am not even to Macon by 10 AM.  On the other hand, if I leave at 5 AM and haven’t even made Macon yet, something is wrong.  I’ve been dawdling over gas pumps, stopping for snacks too many times, or wandering through tourist traps that have nothing to do with the trip itself.  The question, then, is not where you are on the road, but when you left in the first place.  You can’t expect yourself to know what to do in every situation of life when you haven’t even experienced much life.  The decision you make today may be completely different than the one you made in the same situation twenty years ago, but twenty years ago if you did the best you could do with what you knew, you did well.

              And what are we doing on our road trip?  Are we wasting too much time at tourist traps?  Life is full of distractions, things not necessarily wrong, but which may not help us on the trip at all, or may even do harm by skewing our perspective.  It really isn’t important where you live and what kind of car you drive in this life.  If you think it is, you’ve forgotten where you’re headed—the here and now has become your goal instead. 

              If you want to keep your mind on the goal, ignore the billboards life puts out for you and spend time with your atlas.  Nothing helps me get through a long trip more than watching the towns go by and following them with my finger on the map.  Every time I check the mileage we are a little further on, and soon, sooner than you might think, the destination is in sight.  That’s why you started this trip in the first place—not for the World’s Largest Flea Market, or the Gigantic Book Sale, or even the Only Locally Owned Canning Facility and Orchard (with free samples). 

              Watch the road, use the map, avoid the tourist traps.  Make the best decisions you can at every intersection.  This is the only road trip you get.  Don’t mess it up.
 
Let your eyes look directly forward, and your gaze be straight before you. Ponder the path of your feet; then all your ways will be sure. Do not swerve to the right or to the left; turn your foot away from evil. Proverbs 4:25-27
 
Dene Ward
 

Have you fallen prey to it yet?  You post something on Facebook and then sit back and wait.  You check it every five minutes at first, then maybe stretch it out a bit, and before you know it, you have sat there for an hour or two and what have you been doing?  Waiting to see if someone “likes” you.  Yes, the quest for popularity affects the masses, and many make use of that pathetic craving of ours. 

              Political pundits say that the first really obvious affect of popularity was the Kennedy-Nixon debates.  On September 26, 1960, Senator John F. Kennedy and Vice-President Richard M. Nixon participated in the first televised presidential debates in American history.  Suddenly election strategy changed.  A carefully manufactured public image and media exposure became essentials for every candidate. 

              Kennedy had only a single and unexceptional term as a Senator on his resume.  Nixon had eight years as vice-president, following a career in the Senate in which his domestic and foreign experience trumped anything Kennedy had.  He was a great opponent of Communism in a time when that really mattered, and even helped uncover the alleged traitor Alger Hiss.  By the summer of 1960, Nixon had gained a lead in the polls.  Then he landed in the hospital with an infection in August and came out pale and 20 pounds underweight.  And so on debate day, a young, bronzed Kennedy confronted a gray Nixon, who was still running a low fever from the tag end of the flu as well.  He had just come off an exhausting campaign trail while Kennedy holed up in the hotel the whole weekend resting.

              After the first of four debates, the pundits scored their politics even, or Nixon slightly ahead.  On Election Day, though, Kennedy won and exit polls showed that politics is not what won the election.  Kennedy was more telegenic.  Over half the voters said the two disparate images during the debate had influenced their vote.  Historians say this was the first time popularity struck a blow in politics.   They are wrong about that.

              After this Absalom got himself a chariot and horses, and fifty men to run before him. And Absalom used to rise early and stand beside the way of the gate. And when any man had a dispute to come before the king for judgment, Absalom would call to him and say, “From what city are you?” And when he said, “Your servant is of such and such a tribe in Israel,” Absalom would say to him, “See, your claims are good and right, but there is no man designated by the king to hear you.” Then Absalom would say, “Oh that I were judge in the land! Then every man with a dispute or cause might come to me, and I would give him justice.” And whenever a man came near to pay homage to him, he would put out his hand and take hold of him and kiss him. Thus Absalom did to all of Israel who came to the king for judgment. So Absalom stole the hearts of the men of Israel, 2 Sam 15:1-6.

              Absalom made everyone feel “liked” and that “stole their hearts.”  But Absalom wasn’t even the first.  In Judges 9:3 the people of Israel had “hearts inclined to follow Abimelech.”  Both of these men were wrong for God’s people and were eventually killed, but that didn’t stop the people from falling prey to what was “popular.”

              Do you think that hasn’t happened to you?  Why do you wear what you wear?  Why do you watch the television shows you watch?  Why do you go to the restaurants you do?  Whatever is popular at the time steals our hearts because we think that by doing the popular thing we will become popular.  The problem comes when that affects us spiritually.  If I am wearing clothing I shouldn’t because everyone else is, I need a stronger character.  If I am watching inappropriate entertainment, I need to remember who I claim to follow. 

              The people of Israel were taken in by what was popular over and over again.  Ezekiel tells us “their hearts went after their idols” and “covetousness,” 20:16; 33:31.  Jeremiah talks about them “going after the imagination of their hearts,” 9:14; 13:10.  And why did they do those things?  Not only because they were the popular things to do, but because falling in with the crowd made them popular too.  Simply put, you can’t be different and popular in the world at the same time.

              What is your heart going after?  If it’s popularity and wanting to be “liked,” then you are prey to popular evils just like 99% of the rest of the world.  God calls us to be different.  A Christian doesn’t need to be “liked” on Facebook or anywhere else as long as God “likes” him.
 
For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ, Gal 1:10.
 
Dene Ward

Sooner or later it will rain, especially when you choose a season and place so popular you must reserve your spot months in advance and, thus, will not know the forecast.  So at least one day of every camping trip we sit inside the screen we set up over our picnic table waiting it out. 

              On our latest trip we had the highest site in the campground, a thirty degree incline up to a spot carved out of the mountainside, fifty feet higher than the nearest site, overlooking the campers to the south and the small town in the valley east of us.  We had set up the day before and watched the clouds roll in that night, obliterating the bright three-quarter moon, wrapping around us like a shroud.

              The rain began in the night, an intermittent drizzle that found its way through the dense forest canopy in a steady barrage of loud heavy plops on the taut nylon of the tent roof, keeping me awake half the night.  The next day we spent back in the screen in the middle of a mountain top cloud, its mist swirling around us and dripping off the saturated limbs and leaves even between the sporadic showers.  Inside and under cover, the benches we sat on grew cold and dank, seeping into the denim on our legs.  The sweatshirts on our backs felt damp and our shoulders chilled in the air.  The pages in the books we read thickened and curled at the corners in the cool humidity.  The top of the green propane stove at the end of the table beaded with moisture.

              By nightfall it was a pleasure to crawl into a warm dry sleeping bag, to lay our backs on a firm air mattress instead of leaning against the edge of a hard wooden table, facing outward to a smoky campfire we could hardly feel through the screen, that sputtered and sizzled from raindrops and wet wood.  The next morning dawned clear with a blue that can only mean “cold,” and air so crisp it sucked the damp out of everything, including our hands and lips.

              For a few days everything was perfect—hikes in pristine forests, clear views of twinkling lights in the valley below, food cooked over a wood fire, and a sky full of stars over us as we read at night, the red, orange, blue and purple flames of a crackling campfire toasting our toes and legs. 

              But as perfect as it was, do you think I didn’t want to go home eventually?  That I wanted to live out of boxes forever?  That there wouldn’t come another day, or even week of rain, or maybe a real storm to blow our tent completely off the mountain?  I was happy to go back home, to have electric lights and windows that would shut against the rain and cold, a bathroom just a few feet away instead of a quarter mile, a shower I didn’t have to share with strangers, and a washer and dryer I didn’t have to feed quarters into.  I enjoy my camping vacations, but I wouldn’t if I had to live that way forever.  In fact, would you even enjoy living in a hotel forever?

              The scriptures call our lives here a sojourn, a short stay away from our real home.  Why do we act like this is all that really matters, like we want to stay here forever, and why are we so surprised when it rains on us occasionally?  This isn’t Heaven after all, and faith doesn’t expect Heaven now.

              “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also,” Jesus said.  Too many of us have our treasures heaped up on a mountaintop campsite or a beachfront condo, and lose our faith when the clouds roll in to spoil our vacation.  If you think this life and this world are all God had in mind for you, you have set your sights far too low.
 
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. Hebrews 11:13-16.
 
Dene Ward

"[Just as the Israelites did during the period of the Judges] evidence of the Canaanization of the church are everywhere:  our preoccupation with material property, which turns Christianity into a fertility religion (fertility religions are concerned to secure for the worshiper a large family, large flocks and herds, and abundant crops, the ancient equivalent to the modern health and wealth gospel); our syncretistic and aberrant forms of worship; our refusal to obey the Lord's call to separation from the world; our divisiveness and competitiveness; our moral compromises, as a result of which Christians and non-Christians are often indistinguishable; our [male] exploitation of women and children; our reluctance to answer the Lord's call to service, and when we finally go, our tendency to displace "Thy kingdom come" with "My kingdom come"; our eagerness to fight the Lord's battles with the world's resources and strategies; our willingness to stand up and defend perpetrators of evil instead of justice."  (Daniel J. Block, The New American Commentary, Judges and Ruth) 

Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world.” (John 18:36)

Every August the grapes come in, muscadines and scuppernongs in this part of the country.  Strong flavored, thick-skinned, acidic, and seedy, they are best for jelly and juice, though true Floridians enjoy noshing on them as is.  With the boys grown now, I go through fewer peanut butter and jelly sandwiches so the jelly production has dwindled and the juice making increased, and I have discovered the easiest method for making and canning grape juice.

              Put a generous cup or so of clean grapes in each sterilized quart jar.  Add some sugar and fill the jars with boiling water.  Process and once the lids have sealed, put them on your shelf for at least two months.  The liquid and the sugar will leach the goodness right out of those grapes.  When you open the jar, strain them out and enjoy what’s left behind.  Perhaps not as much fun as jumping into the vat with Lucy and Ethel, but far cleaner and easier.

              One day I decided to taste one of those strained-out grapes just to see what was left in it.  I should have known—it was duller and several shades paler than its original shiny purple-black, and loose as a deflated balloon.  How did it taste?  Like sour nothingness.   Maybe that’s what happens to us when we steep ourselves in the world. 
 
             Is wealth consuming your thoughts?  “Just let me have enough,” is a lie we tell ourselves.   He who loves money will not be satisfied with money, nor he who loves wealth with his income, Eccl 5:10.  If you allow thoughts of riches to flood your life—even if you don’t have them--anything spiritual will be washed out of your heart.  Notice the prediction God made about Israel:  But [they] waxed fat, and kicked: you have waxed fat, you have grown thick, you are covered with fatness; then he forsook God which made him, and lightly esteemed the Rock of his salvation, Deuteronomy 32:15.  Their wealth (“fatness”) covered them so that it was all they could think about.  Any notion of serving God was completely forgotten.  If you think we aren’t at risk, just take a minute and look around.  What used to be a God-fearing nation has become a people who worship wealth, power, and celebrity instead.

              Other times we allow the pleasures and conveniences of this world to permeate our lives so that the mere thought of sacrificing anything, whether comfort, ease, or even opinion, will be smothered out of us.  “Self” will leach the good out of hearts and minds, and leave nothing but the emptiness of indulgence.  If your “rights” spring to your lips every time someone crosses you, you have stifled the spiritual character of yielding to others, whether your neighbors, the man in the car in front of you, or the brother who sits next to you on the pew.  You have suffocated the spirit of mercy that marks us as His children.  For they that are after the flesh do mind the things of the flesh... For to be carnally minded is death… Because the carnal mind is enmity against God: for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be. So then they that are in the flesh cannot please God, Romans 8:5-8.

              But sometimes we simply drown in “stuff.”  What do you do all day long?  Run from this to that to another event, none of which is evil, but none of which is spiritual either.  How do you feel at the end of the day?  Drained, probably, and maybe even quicker to fall into the sins of impatience and intolerance simply because you are so tired.  And he that was sown among the thorns, this is he who hears the word; and the care of the world, and the deceitfulness of riches, choke the word, and he becomes unfruitful, Matthew 13:22.

              What are you floating in today?  Will it make you sweet and useful to the Master, or will it leave you an empty, useless hull of a servant, one who will be strained out and thrown away?  Let me know if you need a jar of my grape juice to sit on your shelf as a reminder.
 
My foot has held fast to his steps; I have kept his way and have not turned aside. I have not departed from the commandment of his lips; I have treasured the words of his mouth more than my portion of food…For zeal for your house has consumed me, Job 23:11-12, Psa 69:9.
 
Dene Ward

On May 8, 1902, Mt Pele erupted on the island of Martinique.  A few days earlier, birds had fallen from the sky covered in ash and one of the rivers along its slopes rose and fell as if a giant plunger were being used on it.  On another day, gigantic centipedes and deadly vipers came slithering down the mountain, disturbed by the rumbling and the tremors.  At least 50 people died from those.  Yet the citizens were all assured by authorities as high as the governor that St Pierre, the cultural center of the island, which sat about 7 km from the mountain, was safe.  In fact, the governor brought his entire family to that town to show his confidence in all the experts. 

             Then on May 8, a flash like lightning exploded from the mouth of the volcano and a cloud of poisonous gas reaching temperatures estimated at 350-400 degrees Celsius formed and fell on the city of St Pierre so quickly that no one could escape, killing 30,000 in an instant, most from suffocation or scalded lungs.  All the expert opinions in the world did not keep them from dying, and it happened in a flash, before they could do anything to save themselves.
 
             For them it was the end of the world, but I doubt it held a candle to the fiery cataclysm in Genesis 19:  Jehovah rained upon Sodom and Gomorrah brimstone and fire from Jehovah out of heaven, and he overthrew those cities and all the Plain, and all the inhabitants of the cities and that which grew upon the ground, vv 24,25.
 
             We know how Lot wound up in Sodom, but did you ever wonder where his wife came from?  When Lot left Ur with Abraham, Abraham’s wife is mentioned, Lot’s wife is not.  Is that because she was not important to the story, or because she wasn’t there yet? 
    
           Although Lot moved to the plain of Jordan in Gen 13:11, he was actually living in Sodom by 14:12.  We have first mention of “the women” in 14:16, but that could have referred to servants—remember, at one point he had quite a few.  Lot’s wife is not specifically mentioned until he is actually living in Sodom.  Between 12:4 and 18:10, twenty-four years have elapsed, plenty of time to marry and have marriageable daughters, especially in a day where marrying them off at puberty was the custom.  Since Sodom is not actually destroyed until chapter 19, it is quite possible that Lot’s wife was a native of Sodom.  It would certainly make her attachment to the city, and her looking back, much more understandable. 
  
           Jesus utters the words of the title above when he is warning his followers about the destruction of Jerusalem in Luke 17.  When the time came, they were to flee, giving no thought to the life they were leaving behind.  Any delay caused by the desire for that life would cause them to lose any hope of a future life.  The warning, Remember Lot’s wife, also carried with it the idea of regretting what was left behind.  As a matter of fact, the next morning Abraham looked at those same cities Lot and his family were told not to look at, Gen 19:27,28, but he did not turn into a pillar of salt.  He was not sorry these wicked places were destroyed; he was probably wondering if Lot and his family had made it out alive.  Lot’s wife, on the other hand, was looking back like the man who put his hand to the plow and looked back.  God wants a real commitment from us, with no lingering attachment to the old way of life.

              So no, we do not really know where Lot’s wife came from, but it is safe to assume she loved her life in Sodom.  If she came from there, that might explain it—family, friends, and familiar surroundings.  But if she did not, she still might be the reason he finally made the actual move into the city.  She left only because she was forced to, Gen 19:16, and because she so plainly regretted it, God counted her with the Sodomites and destroyed her too.  Being in Sodom was not the crux of the matter, but rather, being like Sodom, and liking that place all too well.

              How about me?  Do I live the Christian life because I love it, or because I feel forced into it, regretting the loss of my old life and wishing I were there?  Do I put my hand to the plow and look back?  Do I get along so well with the world that no one sees a difference between me and them?  If God were still in the salt business, what would I look like today?
 
Being filled with all unrighteousness, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness, full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, malignity, whisperers, backbiters, hateful to God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents, without understanding, covenant-breakers, without natural affection, unmerciful, who, knowing the ordinance of God, that they that practice such things are worthy of death, not only they who do the same, but who take pleasure in them that do them.  Rom 1:28-32
 
Dene Ward

I walked out to turn off the sprinkler the other morning, and Chloe ran up to me as she always does, looking for a pat on the head.  I reached down out of habit, but all I felt was a cold, wet nose.  That wasn’t enough for her, so she kept right on bumping my leg until I stopped and actually got hold of fur, rubbing her back and chest hard and fast just as she likes.

              I chuckled to myself when I realized what that cold, wet nose meant:  she was doing fine.  A warm, dry nose would have had me stopping in my tracks to check her out, but a cold wet one kept me headed for my destination without a second thought.

              Funny the things that signal to us that everything is all right.  Out here in the country we lose our power so often that as we near home after a long trip I start looking at the neighbors’ houses to make sure their lights are on.  Nothing worse than coming home dog-tired and finding no power and no water.  The warmly lighted windows along the highway ease my mind.

              Did you ever think what must have been the signal to God that things were not fine in Eden?  Yes, God knew it the moment it happened, but for a moment give me a little poetic license.  God looks down and what does He see?  Fig leaves where there should be nothing.  Even Genesis remarks on that first. She took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked and they sewed fig leaves together…

              God looked at His children in their perfect home and knew that they were no longer fit to live there—those fig leaves gave them away.  “Who told you you were naked?” He asked Adam, and the jig was up.  I wonder if now He isn’t saddened by seeing us this way, if the very clothes we wear aren’t a constant reminder of His original intentions for us, and the sin we so willfully brought into this world.  Now He sees us and sighs for what could have been. 

              Even worse, those very clothes that He made to cover the sign of our iniquity, have become objects of sin themselves—apparel that causes men to lust with its lascivious intent, attire that brings division to His Son’s body when the self-righteous try to legislate what is right and wrong to wear in the group worship, more or finer clothing that causes envy in others.

              I wonder what God thinks when He looks down on our brimming closets, where we stand moaning that we “have nothing to wear?”  Surely when He sees our clothes he must think of what it cost Him and His Son.  Surely those piles of shoes remind Him of the piles of sin His children have committed.

              Who would have thought that, just like those aprons of fig leaves, the dress I wore Sunday morning, and the suit my husband chose and the tie he so carefully knotted would be a sign that everything is not all right?  Dressing every morning should remind us of what we have lost and the price tag attached to those clothes. 

              How much does that designer label matter to you now?
 
Do not let your adorning be external--the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear-- but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious, 1 Peter 3:3-4.
 
Dene Ward

Over the holidays I finally used up several votive candles.  That's "several" as in half a dozen.  Now I have six empty little jars, none of which have lids.  The budget-conscious woman in me wondered what to do with them.  With no lids they are fairly useless, and I have no more shelf space to accommodate them. 

So I went looking for Keith.  "Can you use these for nails or screws or something?"  He looked skeptical but took them with him to the shed anyway. 
Very shortly he was back inside with those same jars.  "I already have a shelf full of them."

Still it was difficult to make myself throw them away.  We are so used to saving and "re-purposing" because we have had to for so long, that it felt like I was being sinfully wasteful to even considerate it.  But I took a deep breath and did so.

I wonder if we don't have the same problem with our spirituality.  Habits, hobbies, even family traditions can get in the way of the time we need for spiritual things.  Those things are not usually wrong.  A smattering of them can even be healthy, not just to our bodies, but also to our weary minds.  But what goes undone because I just can't let go of a trivial pursuit of mine in order to pursue something not trivial at all? 

Perhaps it is time for some careful consideration.  How might I rearrange things so that I can spend more time on spiritual endeavors?  Sometimes it is as simple as changing the order of things or just getting up 10 minutes early.  Can I do those simple things for God, for my relationship with Him, for my spiritual health?

Here's a thought.  Family night is important.  I would never even consider asking someone to give it up.  But maybe once or twice a month you could use that time of togetherness to cook and take a meal to someone who needs it.  Or take your children with you to visit at the hospital, then stop for ice cream on the way home.  (How do you think they will learn visiting otherwise?)  Or spend the first half hour of family night on a devotion and accompanying discussion.  It isn't that difficult to figure these things out when you really want to.

Stop saving useless "votive jars" when you already have a shelf full of them.  At some point it is no longer good stewardship.  At some point, even good things can become sinful.
 
​And that which fell among the thorns, these are they that have heard, and as they go on their way they are choked with cares and riches and pleasures of this life, and bring no fruit to perfection. (Luke 8:14)                                                                                          
Dene Ward