The Great Fire of London began on the morning of September 2, 1666 in the home of King Charles II's baker.  By September 6, when the fire was finally put out, 80% of London had been destroyed.  You can read a lot about that fire on history sites, but I want to focus on this today:  In that fire they used something called a "squirt," a device similar to a bicycle pump that was first used on fires in the Middle Ages.  A nozzle was placed in a container of water and a plunger pulled to suck water up into the "well" of the squirt.  It was then directed toward the fire and sprayed out.  Sort of slow going for a real fire, don't you think?  Imagine if the king's baker had had a modern fire extinguisher in his home.  London might have been saved.

             We have two fire extinguishers in the house, one behind the woodstove at the edge of the kitchen and one in a back bedroom.  They have been there so long that I don’t even notice them any more.  In fact, when I think to look at them at all, it’s to dust them because “suddenly” they look like they have grown white fur.

              Fire extinguishers are great to have around, but let’s face it, they aren’t part of a beautiful decor.  They aren’t a handy item we use everyday like a coffee pot or a can opener.  They aren’t even a once a year need like my pressure canner—at least we hope not.  The only reason we have them is “just in case,” and we want that “just in case” to never happen.  We treat fire extinguishers more like necessary evils than anything else.

              I noticed something when we studied Psalm 99 in Bible class the other day.  [Speaking of Moses, Aaron, and Samuel] In the pillar of the cloud [God] spoke to them; they kept his testimonies and the statute that he gave them. O LORD our God, you answered them; you were a forgiving God to them, but an avenger of their wrongdoings, vv 7-8.

              Those two verses contain everything we need to know about who can pray to God and expect an answer.  First God spoke to them.  They listened by keeping His testimonies and statutes.  Then God answered them.

              Those three righteous men did not treat God like a fire extinguisher.  He wasn’t there just for emergencies.  He was part of their lives on a daily basis as they followed His laws and prayed for help and forgiveness.

              The psalmist is careful to point out that these men were among those “who call upon His name” (v 6).   They were not the only ones chosen to receive this blessing.  Many others “called upon His name.”  That goes for us as well.  We possess His testimonies and statutes in the written form.  All we have to do is keep them, making God a daily part of our lives, and He will hear us just like He heard them.

              The problem comes when we try to make a relationship out of one phone call, so to speak.  If we never talk to God otherwise, or more to the point, listen, He won’t listen either.  If we ignore His law with impunity, going our own headstrong way, He won’t answer—not according to Psalm 99, and several other passages (Prov 15:29; 28:9; Isa 59:2; John 9:31, etc).  We’ve seen too many heart-tugging made-for-TV movies where the old reprobate turns around at a crisis and promises God he will be good if God will just hear him this once.  God does not bargain, unless you think you are a man of the stature of Abraham, who talked with God regularly instead of treating Him like a fire extinguisher.  More often than not, old reprobates stay that way.

              Now is the time to begin that relationship, or deepen it if you already have.  If we keep God behind the woodstove until He grows some dusty fur, we needn’t think He will pay a bit of attention when we holler.
 
As I called, and they would not hear, so they called, and I would not hear, says the LORD of hosts, Zech 7:13.

Dene Ward

About thirty years ago, we awoke one Saturday morning to ominous gray skies and strong winds.  The forecast for the day made it dangerous to be out, so we called those we had invited for a singing that afternoon and canceled.  Instead of walking to the paper box, about a quarter mile down our driveway, Keith drove the car, and as huge, plopping raindrops began falling, parked it next to the front door when he returned.
            A few minutes later, he looked out the window by the table where he sat reading the paper and sipping a cup of coffee.  Something in his manner made me look too, but I didn’t see anything. 
            “Get the boys,” he said very quietly, “and go crouch down in the middle of the house.  Cover your faces.”  I did exactly as he said, unquestioningly.  He grew up in the Arkansas mountains, and he knew about things I had no experience with.  A few minutes later it was all over with.  What “all” was, I still did not realize.  The power had gone out, but we were still intact. 
            We stepped out of the house, and the hay barn across the field no longer had a roof.  Several water oaks and wild cherry trees were down on the long drive to the highway.  A large chinaberry had fallen right where the car had originally been parked before he decided to drive for the paper instead of walking.  It would have been flattened.
            Then we edged around the corner of the house on our bedroom side, and saw the worst of it.  A huge live oak had split.  Half had fallen on the power lines, but the line was still alive, wiggling and sparking on the ground.  The other half, its roots mostly out of the ground, leaned right over our bedroom.  We had no idea how long it would hold before it too fell and demolished our house.
            We called the power company immediately and they rushed out to take care of the live wire, but they had too many other calls to send someone to handle the tilting tree.  We would have to wait our turn.  Word gradually spread down the highway, and within an hour, two men who worked timber drove up with cables and chainsaws, and those two men, who were complete strangers to us, took the tree down safely and with no damage.  We thanked them profusely.  “That’s what neighbors are for,” they said, and off they went.
            A preacher friend who had been invited to the sing never got the message to cancel.  He showed up amid the raucous roar of chainsaws, and heard the whole story.  It impressed him enough to include it in a lesson on prayer and providence.  The people in the audience were not impressed.  Afterward they took him aside and scolded him.  “God does not act in the world today,” they reminded him.  He was astounded, and so were we.
            When we become so intent on exposing false doctrine that we blatantly ignore the truth, swinging the pendulum so far back that we miss it entirely, something is wrong with our perspective.  If God had no hand in what happened that day, then why do we bother to pray at all?  Do we not believe James? 
            “The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much,” 5:16. 
            Do we not believe the book of Esther or the last 14 chapters of Genesis?  “God sent me,” Joseph told his brothers who had thought it was all their idea, and God continued to “send” Joseph through Potiphar’s wife, the baker and butler, and eventually Pharaoh himself.
            God spent much of the prophets talking about how He would work through the enemies of Israel.  “Ho Assyrian! The rod of my anger!  The staff of my fury is in his hand,” Isa 10:5.  God sent those Assyrians to punish Israel, just as certainly as He sent those two lumberjacks to save my home.  He did it because of the prayers I started the moment I saw that look in my husband’s eye, the moment I crouched on the floor trying to shield my little boys with my own body, the moment we saw that tree clinging to the pitifully few clods of dirt left on its roots.
            I will never believe otherwise.  In fact, why do we bother if we don’t believe it?
 
The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth. He fulfills the desire of those who fear him; he also hears their cry and saves them. Psalms 145:18-19

We first encountered a coreopsis when we planted several packets of wildflowers and a few sprang up along the edge of our mown field.   These two foot high plants held bright yellow ray flowers on bare stalks above lance shaped leaves.  “Tickseed” I found as its colloquial name because its hard flat black fruit resembles a tick.
 
             Although they still spring up here and there nearly fifteen years after that original planting, they are sparse and tend to congregate on the southern edge of the field, shining like the occasional light bulb in a sea of green grass and weeds.  They had just started blooming in early May when I spent my entire morning walk with Chloe talking to God about a particularly thorny issue.  I had just asked for what seemed impossible. 

              It has taken me years to reach this point.  The church of my day spent nearly its entire existence fighting false doctrines, certainly a noble cause.  False teaching can steal souls as easily as the temptations of an increasingly carnal culture.  But we often forgot to balance those teachings with the truth, jumping far beyond it to a place of certain safety, where we were so far from the ravenous wolf in sheep’s clothing that we fell into the pit of despair instead.  Yes, miracles have ceased, but that doesn’t mean that God no longer works in the world or that my prayers will not be answered.  Yes, the Holy Spirit operates through the Word He inspired, but that doesn’t meant that I will not receive help from an avenue He has set in motion.  Providence, we call all of those things—normal natural occurrences that seem to come at the most opportune times.

              And so I was walking along the path, pulling my way with those now ubiquitous trekking poles of mine, along the back fence, probably fifty feet from the nearest--and loneliest--coreopsis, turning on its southwest side by a stretch where we had sown none of them, and none had ever before appeared.  When things do spread, they always go north-northwest, certainly never south, especially in the summer.  Yet suddenly, right there before me stood a bright yellow beacon where it should not have been.  It was so unexpected I came to a complete halt and called Chloe over, as if she too should have cared.  Coming as it did so surprisingly, just after that impossible request, I was instantly reminded that God can do the impossible, and my spirits soared.

              No, I am not a mystic, or a believer in such things.  But I am reminded of a sermon Jesus preached once, where it seems he glanced up and surely must have seen a flock of birds on the wing, so he said, “Behold the birds of the heavens,” and a few minutes later when he surely must have seen a nearby patch of flowers and said, “Consider the lilies of the field.”  Jesus had no problem at all using the natural world to teach His lessons.  Why can’t I use the natural world to remind me of lessons I need at a particular time?

              I have a friend who loves butterflies.  As she endures cancer treatment she often says, “God sent me a butterfly today.”  She had looked outside and seen one flitting around in her flowerbeds.  That butterfly reminded her that God cares for her, just as Jesus reminds us, Look at the birds of the heavens, that they sow not, neither do they reap nor gather into barns, and your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are not you of much more value than they? Matt 6:26. 

              God has created an amazing natural world to teach us if we will but pay attention.  Solomon used that natural world in the wisdom God gave him.  And he spoke three thousand proverbs; and his songs were a thousand and five. And he spoke of trees, from the cedar that is in Lebanon even unto the hyssop that springs out of the wall; he spoke also of beasts, and of birds, and of creeping things, and of fishes. 1 Kings 4:32-33.  If we deny this creation of God its ability to edify and encourage, how are we any different from the pagan who denies that it proves God’s very existence in the first place?

              Pay attention to what lies outside your door today, the birds and lilies, the butterflies and the out of place, bright yellow coreopsis.  As it turns out, God did answer my impossible prayer that day, in almost exactly the way I had asked.  Who am I to try to explain that away?
 
Jesus looked at them and said, "With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God," Mark 10:27
 
Dene Ward
 

We resisted as long as we could.  No cell phones for us.  It was not in our budget and we could live without one.  Then suddenly it became more important for me to be able to reach someone should I have an eye emergency, should I have an unexpected procedure at the clinic that made me unable to drive, or should I find myself unable to see well enough to get home, as often happens these days, especially in the afternoon.  Phone booths had virtually disappeared, and even that remedy was no longer available.  So we bought the cheapest flip phone we could find with a prepaid card for 60 minutes.  When I see these "wonderful" prices on TV for family plans that still run several hundred dollars a month I shake my head in confusion.  Ours costs us about $6.67 a month.

              Cell phones have come a long way.  The first phone call ever made from a handheld mobile phone happened on April 3, 1973.  Dr. Joel S Engel, a Motorola executive, made that call using a phone that was 23 cm long, 13 deep, and weighed 1.1 kg.  For those who are like me, that's 9+ inches long, 5+ inches deep, and about 2 ½ lbs, a little bigger and heavier than two one pound boxes of brown sugar fastened together.  But even as far as they have come, there are still issues.

              I tried to call Keith from the doctor’s office the other day.  I had just stepped out of the elevator and was standing in an enclosed “breezeway” between the bank of elevators and the eye clinic, lined with windows and a view of the city from four floors up.  The little screen on the phone showed “Calling work,” then suddenly switched back to the home screen.  I never did hear it ring on the other end.  I tried twice more but both times the phone stayed silent. 

              I knew I had called from that site before, so I stepped a few paces to the left and tried again.  This time I got a rough ring on the other end and Keith picked up.   We still had a difficult conversation between the phone connection losing every other word of his and him being so deaf that even an amplifier is not an instant cure, but at least we communicated the necessities—I had managed to make another trip into town without running over anyone or anyone running into me.

              Sometimes we have difficulty making connections with God, and usually that is our fault—we are standing in the wrong place. 
 
But your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you, so that he will not hear. Isa 59:2
If I regard iniquity in my heart, The Lord will not hear, Psa 66:18.
And he said, I will hide my face from them, I will see what their end shall be: For they are a very perverse generation, Children in whom is no faithfulness, Deut 32:20.
 
              We overstate the matter, and miss the point entirely, when we say God only hears Christians.  He heard Cornelius’s prayer before he was converted, Acts 10:4.  God answered that “prayer of a sinner,” not with the instant forgiveness promised by televangelists today, but by sending Peter to preach the gospel, Acts 11:14, “words whereby you shall be saved.”

              The passages listed above were all said of people who claimed to be children of God, “children in whom there is no faithfulness,” yet people we would have called “believers” today.  Faithfulness involves dependent trust.  When God’s people in the Old Testament began relying on the gods of their pagan neighbors, participating in their worship, while at the same time claiming to worship him, he had them carried into captivity as a punishment.

              What are you relying on besides God?  Whatever it is, it stands between you and the connection you so badly need to help you handle life’s difficulties.  If you pray and pray and pray, yet still feel deserted by God, look around.  Are you standing behind a pillar of self-reliance?  Do you count your financial preparations as the ultimate security?  Do you look at the life you have led thus far and find yourself so completely satisfied with your efforts that you think you have salvation “in the bag?”  Security in the promises of God is one thing—arrogance and self-righteousness is quite another.  When we trust in anything besides God, we have become the same faithless children as those ancient Jews.

              God never tells us that life will be easy.  He never says that nothing bad will happen to us as long as we are faithful.  What he does tell us, is that as long as we rely on him alone, he will not forsake us.  He will give us the help we need to get through the tough times, and ultimately to the eternal salvation that will make this life look like a mere blink of the eye.

              Are you having a difficult time making a connection with God these days?  Take a step or two in the right direction, and suddenly the signal will become loud and clear.
 
And Asa cried unto Jehovah his God, and said, Jehovah, there is none besides you to help, between the mighty and him who has no strength: help us, O Jehovah our God; for we rely on you…Oh Jehovah you are our God, 2 Chron 14:11.
 
Dene Ward

I used to wonder why Mary, Queen of Scots, was beheaded.  I never knew the whole story and to me she was always a victim, never a criminal.  Now I know better.
              Mary ascended to the throne of Scotland in 1549 when she was 6 days old.  She was educated in the courts of France and returned to resume her place as monarch at the age of 17, already a widow.  In 1565 she married her English cousin in order to reinforce her claim to the English throne after Elizabeth's death.  But over the next couple of years she became a focal point in several plots to overthrow Elizabeth, and Elizabeth was forced to put her under house arrest, even though she counted her a friend.
              In 1586 a major plot to kill Elizabeth was uncovered and Mary was found complicit and beheaded on February 8, 1587, thanks to the discovery of a coded letter she sent to her co-conspirator Anthony Babington. 
              Codes have been used at least as far back as Julius Caesar, who used a simple alphabetic code.  Mary's code was the type called "frequency analysis."  It depends upon the number of times certain letters are used in the language.  In English, E is the most common letter, T the second most, and A the third, etc.  By looking at the message, the cryptologist can crack the code when he sees how many times certain symbols are used.  They tell me it's simple math.  Well, math maybe, but not necessarily simple to me.
              On the other hand…  
            Before he was a year old, Silas started talking.  Sometimes I knew what he was saying and sometimes I didn’t.  For some reason he said, “Bear,” over and over and over.  He and another toddler at church carried on quite a conversation across the aisle with just that one word.  But there was no question at all what he meant when he looked across the room, spied Brooke, then smiled, held out both arms and said, “Mamamamamamama,” as he toddled across the floor.  No, he was not saying, “Mama.”  He was saying, “There is the most important person in the world.”  Then he looked at Nathan, pointed to the ceiling and said, “Up!”  No, that didn’t mean, “Pick me up.”  It meant, “Throw me up in the air as high as you can,” something he loved for his daddy to do.
              Mothers can decode better than anyone.  When Lucas was eleven months old, he had already been walking five or six weeks.  He often padded to the refrigerator, hung on to the door, and said, “Dee.”  That meant, “I want a drink, please.”  Nathan, at thirteen months, would hold out his biscuit half and say, “Buuuuh.”  (Pronounce that like the word “burr” but without the “r,” and draw the “u” out as long as possible.)  That meant, “Please put more butter on my biscuit so I can lick it off again.”  Needless to say, he only got a little dab of butter at a time.
              Marriages have special codes too.  “Are you wearing that?” could mean a lot of different things, depending upon the marriage.  In some it means, “I don’t like that outfit.”  In ours it means, “Oh, so I guess I can’t wear my blue jeans, huh?”  Relationships may be about communication, but that does not mean they are about hearing; they are about knowing what the words you hear mean.  Sometimes people decide they mean what they want them to mean instead of what they really do mean, and that can lead to all sorts of problems.
              Jesus is a specialist in decoding our words.  “He who searches the reins and the hearts” (Rev 2:23) can figure it out, no matter how awkwardly we phrase things.  We don’t have to worry about being eloquent in our prayers, about saying something that might be misunderstood or taken the wrong way.  People may do that, but our Lord never will.  He partook of humanity so he would understand the stresses we undergo and the turmoil they create in our minds.  He knows that things sometimes come out wrong, not because we are selfish or mean, but because we are anxious and distressed.  Isn’t that when we find ourselves talking to Him the most?
              Make a relationship with Him that will calm your worries.  Know that He is listening to your heart, not the inept words you sometimes utter.  Don’t worry about eloquence, just talk.  Let your prayers be a comfort to you today, not another source of worry.  That’s how a real relationship works.
 
Who shall lay anything to the charge of God’s elect? It is God who justifies, who is he who condemns?  It is Christ Jesus who died, yes rather, who was raised from the dead, who is at the right hand of God, who also makes intercession for us…For there is one God, one mediator between God and man, himself man, Christ Jesus, Rom 8:33,34; 1 Tim 2:5.
 
Dene Ward

Getting old is the pits or, as is popular to say among my friends, it isn’t for wimps. 

              I remember when I used to run 30 miles a week and exercise another 5 hours besides.  I lifted light weights and did aerobics and the standard floor exercises for abs and glutes and those floppy chicken wings on the back of your arms—triceps, I think they’re called.  I didn’t like the notion of waving hello to the people in front of me and having those things wave goodbye to the people behind me at the same time.

              Now, due to doctor’s orders, I have to limit how much I pick up, how long I bend over, and how much and how strenuous the activity I participate in.  Good-bye slim, svelte body (as much as it ever could be with my genes), and hello floppy chicken wings.  Now I can only do a little and boy, does it show—and hurt!

              I was doing a little step work the other day (very little) when a knife-sharp stab stopped me in my tracks.  Yeow!  What was that?  So I stepped up again and found out immediately—it was something deep inside my knee.  I stopped and thought.

              In all that exercising over the years I have learned at least a little bit about it.  For example, if you change the angle of your body, suddenly you feel the work in a different muscle, sometimes on a completely different part of your body.  When I took that step up, I was using nothing but my knee, a very fragile joint—how many professional athletes have had their careers cut short with a knee injury?  Lifting that much weight over and over and over, even for just the ten minutes I allowed it, was too much for that little joint to bear alone. 

              So I focused on changing the working muscle.  All it took was putting the entire foot on the step instead of just my toes, and pushing up from my heel on each repetition.  Suddenly, the large muscle mass from my legs and up through the small of my back was doing all the work (especially that extra large muscle), and my knee scarcely hurt at all.  Ha!  I finished my allotment of sweating for the day with no pain, and only a mild ache where it really needed to be aching in the first place.

              That’s exactly what happens to us when we try to bear our burdens alone.  All we are is a fragile little knee joint, when what we need is a huge mass of muscle.  Cast your burden on the Lord and he will sustain you, David said in Psa 55:22.  Do you think that strong warrior didn’t need help at times?  But David was greatly distressed…[and he] strengthened himself in the Lord his God, 1 Sam 30:6.  David was not too macho to know when he needed help and where to get it.

              Too many times we try to gain strength from everything but God--money, portfolios, annuities, doctors, self-help programs, counseling, networking, anything as long as we don’t have to confess a reliance on God.  It isn’t weak to depend upon your Almighty Creator—it’s wisdom and good common sense.  The Lord is my helper, I will not fear; what can man do to me? asked the Hebrew writer in 13:6.  Indeed, not only is what man can do to you nothing compared to the Lord’s power, what he can do for you is even less. 

              When life starts stabbing you in the heart with pain, anxiety, and distress shift your focus.  Remember who best can bear the weight of sin and woes, and let Him make that burden easy enough for you to handle.  I still had to use my knees that day, but they certainly felt a lot better than they did before, and even better the next morning.  By yourself, you will do nothing but ruin your career (Eph 4:1) with a knee injury, but you and the Lord can handle anything.
 
Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:6-7
 
Dene Ward

What do you do when someone you love is in the middle of a crisis?  Prayer is probably the first thing that comes to mind, but after considering this awhile, I realize that a few other things must come before that.

              First we need to get our lives in order.  The effectual fervent prayer of the righteous avails much, we are told in James 5:16.  If you really care about the ones you are praying for, nothing will keep you from making sure you live a righteous life.  None of us can be righteous by being perfect, but we can all be made righteous by forgiveness.  Usually the only thing standing in the way of that is pride, and pride will form a ceiling past which your prayers cannot travel.  If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear, David wrote in Psa 66:18.  Whatever needs fixing in your life, first get on your knees and fix yourself before you even try to pray for anyone else.

              That one was obvious.  This one not so much.  God will never hear the prayers of a grudge-holder.  So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift, Matt 5:23-24.  Adam Clarke says, “A religion, the very essence of which is love, cannot suffer at its altars a heart that is revengeful and uncharitable, or which does not use its utmost endeavors to revive love in the heart of another.” 

                Do you know the easiest way to fix this problem?  Stop wearing your feelings on your coatsleeves.  Stop being so easily offended and insulted.  Stop seeing the worst in everything anyone says or does toward you.  Love “does not keep account of evil,” Paul says in 1 Cor 13:5.  “Love covers a multitude of sins,” Peter reminds us in 1 Pet 4:8.  If we weren’t so quick to make something out of every little thing that comes along, maybe more of our prayers would be heard.  “First be reconciled,” Jesus said.  There is a definite order to these things. 

              And the last thing I thought of?  I need to stop distracting those who are praying about this huge crisis with my own petty problems.  I know that it is impossible to overwhelm God—He can handle as many problems as we feel compelled to send his way.  But his people can be overwhelmed.  They can be distracted.  Feeling emotionally swamped can paralyze you, and keep you from the service that others desperately need.  The shepherds shouldn’t have to take time putting band-aids on boo-boos when a couple of other sheep need CPR. 

              So, just for now, while the crisis looms, you and God handle your problems, and God and I will handle mine.  God and even just one of his children are more than a match for any one or any thing.  When any crisis is at hand--I must be aware of priorities, and do my best not to cause other problems.  “Act like a man!” Paul told the Corinthians.  “Man up!” is the current way of putting it, or just, “Grow up!”  During a crisis the last thing the people of God need is someone raising a fuss or whining for attention. 

              I have a friend whom I have known since before I was even old enough to know her.  She needs the prayers and the undivided attention of the saints right now.  I do not want to be the one who fails her.
 
Then Hezekiah turned his face to the wall and prayed to the LORD, saying, "Now, O LORD, please remember how I have walked before you in faithfulness and with a whole heart, and have done what is good in your sight." And Hezekiah wept bitterly. And before Isaiah had gone out of the middle court, the word of the LORD came to him: "Turn back, and say to Hezekiah the leader of my people, Thus says the LORD, the God of David your father: I have heard your prayer; I have seen your tears. Behold, I will heal you…2 Kings 20:2-5.
 
Dene Ward

Three year old Silas has learned to pray, and often sits at the table, eagerly clasping his little hands together, looking back and forth at his parents, hoping they will ask him to say the blessing. 

              “Do you want to say the prayer?” his daddy asks, as if it weren’t obvious, and he gets a big nod and off we go.  It’s never about the meal.  To him it’s about talking to God and saying thank you for something, for anything, for whatever happens to be on his mind.

              “Hey God!”  Read that the way an excited child would greet his grandparents, not the way a New Yorker would yell, “Hey Mac!”

              “Thank you for sisters,” although he has none, but one of his little friends does, so he wants to mention it.

              “Thank you for blue, and red, and yellow,” the colors of the containers he puts his blocks in.  He doesn’t complain about having to pick up his toys.  He thanks God for something to put them in, and that’s the one that really made me think.

              I wonder how many of our complaints could be expressed as thanks with just a little thought.  Dealing with rush hour traffic?  Thank God you have a car to drive through it in.  Complaining about the stack of ironing?  Thank God you have that many clothes to wear.  Griping a little about picking up your husband’s shoes?  Thank God he is alive and well enough to leave them in the middle of the floor.

              I thought about this again yesterday when I was blowing off the carport.  We didn’t have one for years, and sometimes I think that all it did for me was give me something else to keep clean.  But last week when one of our usual summer gully washers came through, I could unload the groceries and stay dry. 

              Then I came in and heaved a sigh at the extra dirty floor.  That happened because we saved enough money to buy a new vanity for the bathroom and the plumber tracked in sand going in and out. 

              Stop and think today about the things you complain about.  How many are caused by blessings you could have thanked God for instead?  How many extra chores do you have because God has provided you a home and a family?  I never had to wash diapers until I had babies.  Do you think for one minute I would have given them back? 

              If ever anyone had something to grumble about, it was Daniel when the other two presidents and the 120 satraps tricked the king into making the law against praying to anyone other than him.  How did he react instead?  And when Daniel knew that the writing was signed, he went into his house (now his windows were open in his chamber toward Jerusalem) and he kneeled upon his knees three times a day, and prayed, and gave thanks before his God, as he did aforetime. Daniel 6:10.  Surely if Daniel could say thank you at a time like that, we can in this relatively easy time in history.

              God is patient with us as we daily grumble our way through a life He has blessed in thousands of ways.  You have to go to work?  These days especially, be grateful for a job.  Gas prices too high?  You’re still buying it, aren’t you? 

              Maybe we should be a little more like a three year old.  “Hey God!  (I’m so excited to talk to you!)  Thank you for all you have done for me, for the things you have given me that I don’t deserve and forget to be grateful for.  For all those extra chores, because they mean you have blessed me beyond measure.  For all my pet peeves, because it means I am able to be up and around and go to those places where they happen.  For the fact that I have to work so hard to lose weight, because it means I have plenty to eat.  For people who get on my nerves, because it means I have friends and family and neighbors and brothers and sisters in Christ—I am not alone.”

              Today look at everything you gripe about and find the blessing.  You will be amazed--and probably a little ashamed.  And maybe those gripes will go away, for at least a little awhile.
 
Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you, 1 Thes 5:18.
 
Dene Ward

I did a little research one day and discovered that the Liberty Bell, the bell that rang on July 4, 1776 when this country declared its independence from England, received its celebrated crack on July 8, 1835, while tolling the death of Chief Justice John Marshall.  Then I did a little more research and found nine more stories about what caused the crack, and even evidence that this was not the first one.  I do have a small model of that bell among my dinner bell collection and there is the crack for all to see.  It’s probably more famous for that crack than it is for celebrating freedom.
 
           I thought then of another “crack,” one far more important.  And Jesus cried again with a loud voice, and yielded up his spirit. And behold, the veil of the temple was rent in two from the top to the bottom…Matt 27:50-51.  The veil in the Temple that separated the holy place from the most holy place also separated men from God.  Only one man could go through that veil and that only once a year, the high priest, Lev 16.  God “dwelt” behind that veil and man was not allowed access under penalty of death.

            Rather than nine different stories about how the veil of the Temple tore, only one is recorded.  The fact that it tore “from top to bottom” means someone had to be in the anteroom to see it, perhaps several “someones,” and that would have been the regular priests going about their daily duties.  Imagine their feelings as the accompanying earthquake began, and they watched an unseen hand rip that sacred curtain.  Imagine their terror as they wondered if they would die now that it hung open and they could see inside.  I think it is likely they were the very ones who later accepted the new teaching.  And the word of God continued to increase, and the number of the disciples multiplied greatly in Jerusalem, and a great many of the priests became obedient to the faith. Act 6:7.  It would have taken something monumental for those men to give up their livelihoods, their heritage, and their sacred privilege as priests of Jehovah.

            We all know that the rip in that veil symbolized the new access we now have to God.  Since we then have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God… let us draw near with boldness to the throne of grace…Heb 4:12,14.  This access was not given only to the Jews but also to the Gentiles, as prophesied in Isa 25:6,7.  “The veil that is over all nations” is “swallowed up.” 

            The Liberty Bell bears this inscription:  “Proclaim liberty throughout the land,” Lev 25:10.  We have a far more important liberty, the right to approach God when we need him, the privilege to call him Father and enjoy his care and protection and company! Adam lost that privilege a long time ago, and man suffered for it for thousands of years.  Don’t take it for granted now.
 
Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy place by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Heb 10:19-22
 
Dene Ward

One of the prettiest views of our property is coming down the shady lane late in the afternoon as the western sun sets behind the tall pines.  The live oaks spread their arms over the house and carport and most of the yard, dripping with Spanish moss and providing an even deeper shade over the lush green grass.  It isn’t fancy by any means.  It isn’t the grandeur of mountains and valleys that dwarf the human spirit.  It isn’t the sculptured and manicured lawn of a great mansion.  But it’s homey and comfortable and inviting.
              All that moss is part of the charm.  We’ve had people try to tell us to remove it.  “It’s a parasite,” they tell us, a common misconception.  Actually, it’s a bromeliad, related to the pineapple.  According to the Sarasota County Forestry Division, Spanish moss, the beard of ancient live oaks, does not jeopardize the trees.  It does not steal nutrients.  It is an air plant that prefers to perch on horizontal limbs like those of live oaks, which provide more access to sunlight and water than vertical limbs.  It processes its food from the rainwater that runs off the leaves and limbs of the trees.  Nothing is stolen from the tree.  Just look around.  Moss even hangs from power lines and fences, and it seems to prefer dead trees to live ones.  So much for the myth that it’s a parasite.
              However, the moss can become so thick that it shades the leaves of the trees from the sunshine, the thing necessary for photosynthesis.  During the rainy season, thick moss can become so heavy that it breaks branches. 
              I think Spanish moss must be a little like worry.  Let’s dismiss the notion that any worry at all is a sin.  Paul talks about “the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches,” 2 Cor 11:28.  He may not use the word “worry,” but that is exactly what he is talking about—anxiety, care, concern, the “daily pressure.”  Sometimes that emotion is legitimate and we become petty when we start forbidding certain words while accepting the feelings as long as we call it something else.
              Yet worldly care and worry can rob us of our spirituality and our usefulness to God.  It can make us “unfruitful,” Mark 4:19.  It can “entangle” us in worldly pursuits, 2 Tim 2:4.  It can tell tales about our hearts with misplaced priorities, Luke 12:22,23, doubt, Luke 12:29, and lack of faith, Matt 6:30.  All of that can choke the word right out of us and when trials come, instead of trusting a God who loves us and provides our needs, we may break from the stress.
              If you have trouble with worry, camp awhile in Matthew 6.  Don’t you understand, Jesus asks, that life is more than food and clothing, v 25?  Don’t you know that God loves you even more than he loves the birds and the flowers, vv 26,30?  Are you so arrogant that you think your worry will fix anything, v 27?  Don’t you have more faith than the heathens, vv 30,32?  Jesus always has a way of laying it on the line, doesn’t he?
              While there may be legitimate concerns, things we pray about even in agony as Jesus did in Gethsemane, and there may be good things that occupy our minds, like our care for the spread of the gospel and the growth of the church and the spiritual progress of our children, don’t let the trivial things, the things of this life that you can’t do anything about anyway, become such a heavy burden that you break under its weight.  Rid yourself of the moss that robs you of the Light.  “Let not your hearts be troubled,” Jesus said, John 14:27.  He came to bring us peace instead.
 
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. John 14:27
 
Dene Ward