We worked our boys hard when they were growing up, weeding and picking the garden in the heat of a Florida summer, standing in a hot kitchen working the assembly line of produce canning and freezing, mowing an acre’s worth of our five with a push mower—not a walk-behind, but a push mower—splitting and stacking wood for the wood stove, hauling brush, raking leaves, and dumping them for mulch.  After hours of hard labor and buckets of sweat, nothing thrilled them more on a hot summer afternoon than a refreshing dip in a nearby spring.
            Springs, even in Florida, are cold.  It is almost painful to step into one--they will literally take your breath away.  I was one who gradually eased my way in to avoid the shock, but the boys wanted to “get it over with,” and usually jumped off the pier, the floating dock, or the rope swing, whatever that particular spring had as a point of entry, and if I was standing too close I “got it over with” too. 
            One of their favorites was Ichetucknee, probably because that one took up a whole day as we rented tubes and floated down the river from the spring head, leaving the water three hours later when we reached the picnic pavilions.  Even by that point in the float, the river was still close enough to the spring that we could chill a homegrown watermelon in its cool shallows while we ate tomato sandwiches and leftover fried chicken; and we never had to worry about snakes or alligators.
            We were always the only ones around clothed from our necks to our knees so we got a lot of strange looks.  The clothes did not help a bit with the cold.  They were for modesty only.  Nothing about a freezing wet shirt sticking to your body will keep you warm, even in a patch of sunlight.  Yet when I finally got wet enough that a mere splash did not make me squeal, the water was a refreshing respite from the sauna we call summer down here. 
            Peter told the people of Jerusalem that if they repented they would receive “seasons of refreshing” in Acts 3:19.  I am told that the word actually means “breathing,” as in catching one’s breath after hard labor or exercise.  That indicates to me that God is not promising us a life of ease.  Yes, we have blessings that others do not have, and that only those who are spiritually minded can even recognize and enjoy, but we will still experience heartache, persecution, illness, and other trials of life.  We are expected to wear ourselves out with service to any in need, as long as there is life in us.  God has no truck with laziness.
            But we have this promise—as surely as ice cold spring water lapping against an overheated body can refresh and renew, we will have refreshment from above that soothes our aches and heals our hurts, that rests our souls with the peace of fellowship with God, and that bestows grace on our tortured spirits.  Repent therefore, and turn again, that your sins may be blotted out, that so there may come seasons of refreshing from the presence of the Lord; and that he may send the Christ who has been appointed for you, Jesus, Acts 3:19,20.



Dene Ward

A couple of times when I was young my family, together with my aunt, uncle, and cousins, shared the rent on a house in New Smyrna Beach for a week.  It was an ordinary cement block house, probably built in the 1940s, two bedrooms, one bath, a living room and kitchen.  What made it worth renting was its location—right on the beach, which was not nearly so crowded in those days.  Every morning we four girls were out building sand castles and playing tag with the waves, floating on the undulating water just past the sandbar or diving below to play shark attack on one another.  We all smelled of suntan lotion and seaweed, coconuts and salt, and only came in for lunch and an afternoon of card games and board games during the worst of the heat, and were back out again in the evening when the sea breeze cooled enough to give us a shiver after once again dunking ourselves in the brine.
            Our parents got the two bedrooms, but we girls didn’t mind sharing the floor in the small living room, the gray, white-streaked linoleum tiles covered with quilts, the floor beneath crunching with a little grit despite all the sweeping our mothers did every day.  You live on the beach, you WILL have sand.  At 8 I was the oldest and usually the last one asleep.  No air conditioning in those days meant the windows stayed open wide and I loved listening to the roar of the ocean.  Over and over and over, the steady pounding of the surf gave me a feeling of security.  I did not have to guess if the next wave would roll in; all I had to do was wait for it, and eventually it lulled me to sleep.
            Fast forward to a time thirty years later.  We were camping on Anastasia Island, a beach 60 miles further north.  The state campground was still small back then, only one section just a few feet off the dirt trail to the beach, acres of palmetto groves separating it from the bridge to the city streets of old St Augustine.  The boys had their own tent, and as we lay in ours once again I listened to the surf crashing onshore, just as it had all those years before.  Over and over, as steady as a ticking clock, as a piano teacher’s metronome, as a heartbeat on a hospital monitor.  All those years and it had not stopped.
            And then another twenty years passed and we two spent a weekend on Jekyll Island.  This time we were too far from the beach to hear it in the night, but after a wonderful meal at the Driftwood Bistro we stopped on the beach for a walk and there it was.  The wind whipped around our legs and plastered my hair across my face, gulls screamed over us in the waning light, and the waves were still coming in, again and again and again, just as they have since the dawn of time.  They never stop.  Some days they may be rougher than others.  Some days the sea may look almost calm.  But check the water’s edge and that lacy froth still creeps onshore in its never-ending cycle.
            Thus says the LORD, who gives the sun for light by day and the fixed order of the moon and the stars for light by night, who stirs up the sea so that its waves roar— the LORD of hosts is his name: ​“If this fixed order departs from before me, declares the LORD, then shall the offspring of Israel cease from being a nation before me forever.” Jer 31:35-36
            Jeremiah tells the people that God will restore his nation and establish a new covenant in the verses just preceding those, a covenant in which their sins will be “remembered no more.”  He uses the stability of the natural phenomena that God created as a guarantee of His promise.  Only if the sun stops rising, if the moon stops shining, if the waves stop rolling in, can you discount my promises, He says.  That guarantee counts for all of God’s promises.  He never changes, we are told.  He is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow, so yes, He will keep the promises He has made to us of redemption, of protection, of spiritual blessings and a final reward.
            Are you a little blue today?  Has your life been upended in a way you never expected, in a way you can hardly bear?  The sea God made is still roaring.  Those waves are still rolling in just as they have for generation after generation after generation.  The white caps you see are the same your parents saw and your grandparents and your great-grandparents on back to your earliest ancestors.  And God is still faithful to His people.  Close your eyes, listen to that perpetual roar, and breathe a little easier tonight.
 
I am the LORD your God, who stirs up the sea so that its waves roar— the LORD of hosts is his name. ​And I have put my words in your mouth and covered you in the shadow of my hand, establishing the heavens and laying the foundations of the earth, and saying to Zion, ‘You are my people.’” Isa 51:15-16
 
Dene Ward
 

I will apologize in advance.  I am going to have a little rant this morning.  About white boards.
            I have despised the things ever since they began to be used by most churches.  What I don't like about them may not bother you a bit, but please hear me out.  You may never have considered some of these things, and while I understand that my vision is completely different from 95% of the rest of you, I do know that other people have these issues to some extent.
            First there is often a glare as they reflect the overhead lighting.  That glare can obliterate parts of the board completely, a different part for each person, depending upon where he sits in the room.  You must admit, a blackboard doesn't do that.
            Second, there is another glare issue involved in a white background.  If the letters are not thick and bold, the white part of the board will "bleed over" and cover them entirely, especially as we sore-eyed people have to squint against all that bright, uncompromising WHITE.  This time, I admit that may only be my problem because of the many hours of surgery I have endured with my eyes taped open under bright lights.  For me and maybe others who have had even a couple of eye surgeries, white letters on a black background (like a blackboard) is the easier way for me to see what you have written because the background isn't so glaring.  And I assume you do want me to see it since you took the trouble to write it down.
            Third, the dry erase markers produce such a narrow line that they can only be seen a few feet away—unless you have excellent vision.  For me, white chalk on a blackboard adds a good five or six feet to my vision.  In a classroom that's a lot.
            Fourth, those pretty colored markers diminish the ease of seeing the letters by about 50%.  Don't ask me why, but colored chalk on a blackboard doesn't cause the same issue.  If you simply must use a white board, please throw away those colored markers!  I don't care how pretty it is—I care if I can see it.
            And fifth, erasing those markers takes a lot of elbow grease sometimes.  If you use the colored ones, sometimes they will never disappear.  A blackboard?  Well, you will occasionally have to go beat the erasers out and rinse off the board, but most of the time you can never tell what was written before once it has been erased.
            But that brings up the lesson for today.  The white board I have to use at the Ladies' Class these days is no longer white.  I can even tell what a teacher wrote last year because I see the faint shadow of the letters.  Yes, we have cleaned it.  Three of us have sprayed on that special cleaner and scrubbed till our arms ached, each trying to show the other one it can be done.  Guess what?  It can't!
            When we forgive, we have a tendency to forgive like a white board erases.  That faint little marking is still clear enough in our minds to keep the memory fresh and easily brought back to life.  "I'll never forget when she…" some might say, and there you see it—the shadows on the white board that are still there.  "There he goes--again…" others might say, and we see that their so-called forgiveness was a sham.
            God doesn't forgive that way.  When he wipes the slate clean, it is completely bare—no faint markings or shadowy blurs, no chalk dust, nothing remaining at all.  Except when we don't forgive.  Then we have this promise:  For if you forgive people their wrongdoing, your heavenly Father will forgive you as well. But if you don’t forgive people, your Father will not forgive your wrongdoing (Matt 6:14-15). 
            White boards—I hate them!  But they do this one thing very well—they teach me how to forgive.
 
Come now, let us reason together, says the LORD: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool  (Isa 1:18).
 
Dene Ward

When we have trouble finding our blessings:

The prayer of Matthew Henry, after being robbed:  I thank Thee first because I was never robbed before; second, because although they took my purse they did not take my life; third, because although they took my all, it was not much; and fourth because it was I who was robbed, and not I who robbed.

Courtesy of Warren Berkley, berksblog.net

On February 14, 2018, a young man who had recently been expelled from the school, opened fire at the Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, and killed 17 people, injuring 17 others as well.  That night several prayer vigils were held in the area.  At one of them, people were asked to list one good thing they would do in the near future to help turn the anger, shock, and grief of the gathered crowd into something positive.  According to the New York Post, as a result of that challenge in the next few days prayers were read for the murderer, Nikolas Cruz.  What kind of prayers?  "We ask that you would intervene in his disturbed mind and show him the hope that can only be found in you," was only one of several of that attitude prayed.  Perhaps we all need to ask ourselves if we could have prayed such a thing after our child had been slaughtered by this man.  It might not be such a stretch to think that one day we may be called upon to do the same.

Jesus told a story that even the most Biblically ignorant people in the world have heard.  We call it “The Good Samaritan.”  Most of us have never actually been in the shoes of either of these men.  Oh, we may have been on the side of the road with a flat tire or a broken fan belt or an overheated radiator, and maybe someone even stopped and helped us, but I doubt we have ever filled every variable of this example.

A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. He went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him. And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.’ Luke 10:30-35.

Understand this:  the relationship between Jew and Samaritan was even worse than black and white, and maybe even Jew and Gentile.  “On all public occasions, Samaritans took the part hostile to the Jews, while they seized every opportunity of injuring and insulting them…they sold many Jews into slavery…they waylaid and killed pilgrims on their road to Jerusalem.  The Jews retaliated by treating the Samaritans with every mark of contempt; by accusing them of falsehood, folly, and irreligion; and…by disowning them as [being] of the same race or religion, and this in the most offensive terms of assumed superiority and self-righteous fanaticism” (Edersheim, The Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah). 

These two men not only disagreed politically, they disagreed religiously as well.  Their people hated one another, mistreated one another; they were violent and malicious in every way possible.  Yet here is one who finds himself in need and his “enemy” takes care of him.  And not just minimally.  The Samaritan left “two denarii” to care for the Jew.  A denarius was a day’s wage for a skilled laborer—think carpenter, plumber, or mason in our day, and the wage those men make an hour, then multiply it out for two days’ worth of wages.  That is the equivalent of what the Samaritan left for a complete stranger, and an enemy at that.

Now think today of someone who fits that description—a stranger who is a member of an enemy nation, one that is violent, who hates us, and who is also of a different religion.  Do I have to spell it out?

So you drive by and see someone on the side of the road who is obviously one of those people by his looks and dress—or maybe at the last rest area you saw him on his prayer rug looking to the east so you know exactly what he is.  What are you going to do?  If Jesus’ story does not apply here, it applies nowhere.

The posts I have seen by some of my brethren on Facebook appall me.  I do not see a kind people who would care even for those we disagree with, as Jesus did when he healed Malchus’s ear, but an angry people who would wish them harm.  What are we thinking?  “Stop this!” Jesus told Peter when he drew his sword.  “Any who take the sword will perish by the sword" Matt 26:52.
​
Jesus also described the citizens of his spiritual kingdom this way:  You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, ​so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. ​For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? ​You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect. Matt 5:43-48  

I never thought that passage would actually mean something to me someday.  I don’t have enemies, at least none who might wish me harm, but that possibility is becoming more and more real, and that means that passage is becoming one we may have to use one of these days.  Do not become like the unbelievers who ignore the entire Bible by ignoring this one verse in your own life.  The same God wrote it all.

In the Roman Empire Christians often gave themselves away because they were kind not only to their own, but also to their pagan neighbors, even those who had been unkind to them.  Everyone knew, “Only Christians do that.” 
Is that what they would say about you?
 
Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them… Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” To the contrary, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. Rom 12:14-21
 
Dene Ward
 

I’m sitting in my camo-mesh lounge chair in front of a campfire, the flame whirling up in a mini-tornado, the smoke wafting down the hillside away from the tent site.  The sun peeks through the leaf canopy dappling the brown, red, orange, and yellow foliage-strewn ground just enough to moderate the cool air into [long] shirtsleeve weather.  Pieces of crystal blue sky show here and there, grayed occasionally by a patch of camp smoke.  The titmice nag at us from the saplings and bushes at the foot of tall pines, hickory, beeches, and red oak, while a woodpecker alternates his door-knock pecking and his manic laugh.
            The campsite could not have been laid out any better.  A long back-in approach left us plenty of room to unpack boxes, coolers, and suitcases, and still have room to stack firewood and set up tents on a perfect length tent site, something not always easy to find for a 16 x 10 tent.  The table fit nicely inside the screen and the fire ring is far enough from both the tents to avoid sparks.
            The park itself is beautiful, lakes, valleys, mountain tops to hike—no hike longer than three to four hours, some appreciably shorter.  The bathhouses are clean with plenty of hot water and strong sprays from large showerheads.  The campsites afford as much or as little privacy as one wants—take your pick.  It is quiet and peaceful, yet only ten minutes from grocery, gas, and pharmacy.
            We’ve been here six days now—perfect park, perfect campsite, perfect weather.  We haven’t even had our customary day of rain, nor even an overcast morning.  So this is not the trip to test our mettle as campers.  It’s all been way too perfect.  But you know what?  We won’t have many stories to tell from this trip.  Oh wait!  Our forty year old electric blanket did give out on us the first—the coldest—night.  And don’t you see?  That’s the story we’ll be telling—and that’s when we found out we were seasoned campers.  We shrugged our shoulders and snuggled a little closer together in the double sleeping bag.
            Peter tells us that God will test our mettle as His servants.  Wherein you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been put to grief in manifold trials, that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold that perishes though it is proved by fire, may be found unto praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ, 1 Pet 1:6-7.
            Too often, instead of passing the test, we use it as an excuse.  We say, “I know I didn’t do well, but after all, I was dealing with such difficult circumstances.”  Instead of growing and getting better and stronger, we blow up as usual and then apologize yet again.  If we were really improving, the apologies would become less frequent, and one day, perhaps, unnecessary.  That’s what God expects of us.
            He doesn’t look down and say, “Well, I know they can handle this trial.”  Why should He bother sending it?  Instead, the test comes and after we pass He looks down, as He did on Mt Moriah and says, “Now I know.”
            And it’s those tests that give us the experience to help others and the strength to endure more.  God never promised us perfect lives here on this sin-cursed world.  He did not promise you fame and fortune (no matter what Joel Osteen says).  He did not promise perfect health, perfect families, or even perfect brethren.  What He did promise is a perfect reward after we successfully navigate what amounts to, in the perspective of Eternity, a moment or two of imperfection.
            But only if you have the mettle.
 
When they had preached the gospel to that city and had made many disciples, they returned to Lystra and to Iconium and to Antioch, strengthening the souls of the disciples, encouraging them to continue in the faith, and saying that through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God, Acts 14:21-22.
 
Dene Ward

Have you had a child, or perhaps an older relative, do this?  They notice a sore on their arm or leg and they sit there and pick at it over and over until suddenly they hold out the offending appendage and cry, "Look! It's bleeding!!"
            "Of course it's bleeding!" you want to shout back at them.  After all, they are the primary reason for that.
            We are a complaining people, but if something is bothering you, if it nags at you again and again and again, maybe the fault is your own.  Maybe you've sat there picking at it in your mind, over and over, until it finally bleeds.  Now you have something real to worry about.
            I do realize that all anxiety is not quite that simple.  Some of us do have issues in that regard.  But others just can't seem to leave well enough alone.  Nothing suits us until the blood flows.  And that is exactly the basis for all whining and complaining, for if it is truly something serious that is worth discussing and being concerned about, something you can actually fix, then that's what you do—fix it.  And that is far less satisfying to some people than seeing a problem worsen by constantly picking at it.
            We don't just do this to others.  We often do it to ourselves, wondering "what if" until all possibilities have been exhausted and then starting over again.  Pick, pick, pick.
            You know what the vet does when a dog has a sore spot or a surgery incision or something else he is likely to lick and worry at all day?  He puts a plastic cone around the dog's neck, the "cone of shame" some have taken to calling it humorously.  Maybe we need one of those too.  Leave it alone.  If it takes picking at to make it bleed, it probably isn't that serious to begin with.
            Put an imaginary cone around your neck today.  Christ came to give us peace.  We will never have it until we stop all the picking.
 
Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honorable, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. The things which ye both learned and received and heard and saw in me, these things do: and the God of peace shall be with you. (Phil 4:8-9).
 
Dene Ward

Psalms 74 and 79, along with the books of Lamentations and Habakkuk, are national psalms of lament for the people of God.  In light of the year 2020, it seems like a good idea to explore them and make some application to our own country.
         Those two psalms will make you cringe in their horrific detail of destruction.  Women and young girls raped, leaders' bodies hung up for all to see, the Temple in ruins, mutilated corpses lying everywhere, far too many for the few left alive to bury.  Psalm 74 lists sacrilege after sacrilege:  God’s enemies standing in the meeting place; the intricate and artistic carvings of the Temple chopped to pieces by heathen axes, the sanctuary on fire, the dwelling place of God razed to the ground.  Psalm 79 uses opposites to the same effect:  the holy defiled; Jerusalem, the city of God, in rubble; God’s servants as carrion; and blood flowing like water in the streets.  Imagine seeing all this one horrible morning and then speaking to God these words:  Help us, O God of our salvation, 79:9.
         God of our salvation?  How could the psalmist possibly use that description?  Where in all this nightmare does he see salvation?
            The poet understood this basic truth:  even in this dreadful event, God is still seeking the salvation of His people.  He could still see a Father’s love behind the most severe discipline.
            Again in Psalm 74, the psalmist says, Yet God is my King of Old, working salvation in the midst of the earth.  Not just in the midst of the earth, but in the middle of all this horror, he can still see the true nature of God.
            Habakkuk in his lament ends with the same thoughts:  For though the fig-tree shall not flourish, Neither shall fruit be in the vines; The labor of the olive shall fail, And the fields shall yield no food; The flock shall be cut off from the fold, And there shall be no herd in the stalls: Yet I will rejoice in Jehovah, I will joy in the God of my salvation. Hab 3:17-18.
            What do we see when evil befalls us?  If all we feel is the pain, if all we see is the sorrow, Satan already has a foothold.  We must learn to use what happens in our lives as a steppingstone to Heaven, a lift to a higher plane of spirituality. 
            A single trial isn’t always punishment from God as it was for those people, but if not, it becomes even more important to see events in the correct way.  We are in a world that is temporary, that is tainted with sin.  Of course we will have problems.  Are we so naïve as to think that something Satan has poisoned will ever be good?  Jeremiah tells us in his lament, that if it weren’t for God there wouldn’t be anything good left in this world at all, Lam 3:22, and we have no right to expect it to be any different because "all have sinned." 
            If I cannot see the salvation of God even in the midst of trials as Jeremiah did, I am blind to who He is.  He is there, helping us prepare for a world where those things will be no more.  If I rail against Him when the trials come, I do not know Him.  Illness and death are the tools of Satan to lure us away, but with faith and the proper perspective--seeing the God of our salvation instead of the God of our pain--we can use Satan’s own tools against him as a road to triumph. 
            It is better to depart and be with the Lord, Paul said, Phil 1:23.  To die is gain for a Christian, v 21.  “O death where is thy victory, O death where is thy sting?  The sting of death is sin and the power of sin is the Law, but thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” 1 Cor 15:55-57)  If I see death as the victor, I am giving myself away—showing that my perspective is indeed unspiritual, immature, and faithless. 
            Is it easy to have this perspective, especially in the middle of a traumatic life event?  If this past year has cost you a job, a home, a lifestyle you have grown so accustomed to you almost consider it deserved, or the lives of loved ones, no, reading through a psalm will not make the bad things go away and your mattress suddenly be filled with roses.  We are still in this flesh and suffer that way.  But while in this flesh the Lord Himself conquered all these feelings and temptations, and expects us to follow His example, as difficult as it may be.  And He gives us the means to do it. 
            In the midst of trials such as the year we have just had, and which will not go away just because the calendar page turns to 2021, may we have the same insight that gave those ancient brothers and sisters of ours hope in the middle of a horror we can scarcely imagine:  He is, and always will be, the God of our salvation.
 
But as for me, I will look unto Jehovah; I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me, Mic 7:7.
 
Dene Ward
 

Then Shemaiah the prophet came to Rehoboam and to the princes of Judah, who had gathered at Jerusalem because of Shishak, and said to them, “Thus says the LORD, ‘You abandoned me, so I have abandoned you to the hand of Shishak.’” Then the princes of Israel and the king humbled themselves and said, “The LORD is righteous.” When the LORD saw that they humbled themselves, the word of the LORD came to Shemaiah: “They have humbled themselves. I will not destroy them, but I will grant them some deliverance, and my wrath shall not be poured out on Jerusalem by the hand of Shishak. Nevertheless, they shall be servants to him, that they may know my service and the service of the kingdoms of the countries,.” 2Chr 12:5-8.
            It’s easy, when you find yourself in a trying situation, to make excuses for your behavior; to say, “Woe is me,” and expect everyone to sympathize with you and pat you on the back, not just occasionally or even often, but almost as if it were a daily penance on their part because you have to deal with the difficult and they don’t—at least in your mind.
            “Why is this happening to me?” can become a mantra if you aren’t careful.  Maybe God, in the passage above, answers that question.
            Judah repented when they learned the consequences of their disobedience and God repented their destruction.  But He did not stop their servitude to the king of Egypt.  “This way they will learn how to serve me,” he told the prophet.
            Did you ever think that maybe that “unjust” master (boss) was there to teach you service?  Or that difficult spouse? 
            Servants, be subject to your masters with all respect, not only to the good and gentle but also to the unjust. For this is a gracious thing, when, mindful of God, one endures sorrows while suffering unjustly, 1Pet 2:18-19.
            Likewise, wives, be subject to your own husbands, so that even if some do not obey the word, they may be won without a word by the conduct of their wives, when they see your respectful and pure conduct, 1Pet 3:1-2.
            Did you ever think that maybe that obnoxious neighbor or ornery brother in the Lord might be there to teach you patience and forbearance?
            Do not repay evil for evil or reviling for reviling, but on the contrary, bless, for to this you were called, that you may obtain a blessing, 1Pet 3:9.
In fact, doesn’t God expect us to use every situation, whether blessing or trial to improve as His servant?  The sufferings we endure are meant to be opportunities for growth, not merit badges on a boastful sash.
            Suffering does not make us exempt to the call to service.  People in all situations of life have been serving God as hard as they can for as long as they can, whether rich or poor, sick or healthy, hungry or full, old or young, even in slavery, for thousands of years.  The place God puts us is the test of our faith.  Will you pass the test? 
 
And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you, 1Pet 5:10.
 
Dene Ward

Today's sobering post is by guest writer, Keith Ward.
 
I’ve seen it on Facebook more than once: “I can’t wait for 2020 to be over.” But there is no magic in the turning of a page on the calendar.  Maybe it is time to take stock carefully from a biblical perspective.  Maybe the times we face are partially the result of, “Be careful what you pray for because you might get it.”

We look around us and everywhere there is wickedness.  When was the last time we voted, whichever party, for a person we believed in rather than the lesser of two evils? And speaking of two, now man has proclaimed there are 5 or 6 or more sexes.  Homosexuality is not just accepted but imposed.  Murder goes unpunished, victims do not count.  Abortion destroys millions of new lives every year.  Violence runs riot in the streets.  Lies and deception are the currency of both politics and business.  Hatred and racism explode.  Truly, things have become so bad that no one can conceive of a solution: there is no way back.  God is a foolish myth and crutch in the minds of the majority and the Bible is a collection of myths that were only needed by more primitive societies.   Religion is mocked, immorality praised, pornography runs rampant and a “relationship” is sex with the same person exclusively for at least a week.  When was the last time there was a nuclear family on TV that was not a 50s re-run? How can we repent when we “call evil good and good evil” (Isa 5:20)?

I have prayed about it, as have you.  I am not even sure what to say anymore when I pray for our country because everything has become so wicked. 
So, now, what if God has heard all our voices and this is the beginning of His reckoning with our nation, the beginning of “the day of the Lord, a day of darkness and not light” (Amos 5:18-20)?  If 2020 is the best year of the rest of our lives, how do we as Christians prepare?

Priority has to be to build our faith and that of our families.  I have served God fifty years and I am not sure I am ready for days like those of Habakkuk and Jeremiah and Ezekiel and Daniel: days of persecution from “the people,” uprooted and cursed and hated.  I like to think I could do it, but I will be upping my level of preparation.

How can one stand such trials when he has never put himself in the trial of opposing abortion openly? Or homosexuality? Or immorality?  How can one stand up with a faith prepared to die for the Lord when he rarely opens his Bible between services and never stands up for Jesus by declaring the truth of the gospel to fishing or football buddies?

We want our children to go to heaven in spite of such trials, but we have not helped them with questions about the reliability of the Bible, or the science that supports the Bible, or the history and archaeology that do the same because we have not learned these things ourselves.  We have not opposed the arguments against God with sound reasoning for God, so how do we or our children “stand your ground on the evil day, and having done everything, to stand?”  (Eph 6:13).
 
We want to stand the trials, but have not exercised spiritually to prepare for a hard race.  We have not memorized scriptures to call to our minds for strength, we have not studied and meditated to strengthen our confidence in our tie with God, we have not prayed the hours necessary to strengthen our holiness before God. 

When we do an honest analysis, many of us in many ways have not done all that well with the moderate trials of 2020.  We bicker whether the one wearing a mask or the one not wearing one has the most faith rather than loving brethren more than our opinions.  We complain about restrictions.  We are not picking up the slack in our ability to assemble by studying more, praying more, growing more.  Instead, many have become comfortable with TV church in our pajamas.

2020 may be, in fact, God’s grace, God’s “not willing that any should perish” warning, and time to face the judgment on our nation in our times.  If so, have you missed the opportunity?
 
"And they have healed the hurt of the daughter of my people slightly, saying, Peace, peace; when there is no peace.  " (Jer 8:11).
 
"For the hurt of the daughter of my people am I hurt: I mourn; dismay hath taken hold on me.  Is there no balm in Gilead? is there no physician there? why then is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered? " (Jer 8:21-22).
 
"For if these things are yours and abound, they make you to be not idle nor unfruitful unto the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ….  Wherefore, brethren, give the more diligence to make your calling and election sure: for if ye do these things, ye shall never stumble: " (2Pet 1:8-10).
 
"I know thy works, that thou hast a name that you live , and you are dead.  You be watchful, and establish the things that remain, which were ready to die: for I have found no works of yours perfected before my God.   " (Rev 3:1-2).
 
Keith Ward