Tomorrow's Garden

 

“How was your garden this summer?”  My patient asked me.

“Pretty bad,” I said.  “It was so hot and dry that nothing except the tomatoes seemed to do well.  We got maybe half of the green beans we normally would and just about everything withered up and did badly.”

“Mine was actually pretty good,” the man talking to me said.  “Of course, I watered it.  I’ve got a creek that runs close to the garden and until it dried up, I could put a decent amount of water on the garden.  I think that gave it a good start.”

“Probably so,” I said, gloomily.  “I gave up watering after a week in June when the temperature stayed in the 90s without a sign of rain in the forecast.  I really didn’t want our well to give out or to burn up the well pump.”

“I’ve seen that happen,” my patient agreed.

“I guess it’s the bad garden years that let you appreciate the ones where you have a surplus,” I said, philosophically.  “I see that all of the time with health – it is when people get sick that they realize what a blessing good health is.”

“That’s so true.  I didn’t realize how much my wife did till she got pneumonia.  For a week I was trying to be her and me at the same time and that didn’t work well at all.”

I suppose this is human nature – few people really appreciate what they have till its gone.  The young seldom realize the blessing they have.  They may not have the latest iphone, but they have energy to do the things they want to and joints that don’t hurt when they get out of bed in the morning. 

This tendency, to not value what we have today, means that more often that not we are wishing for the things we used to have rather than being grateful for the things we do have.

“In the day of prosperity be joyful, and in the day of adversity consider: God has made the one as well as the other, so that man may not find out anything that will be after him.” (Ecclesiastes 7:14)

It is a huge challenge to rejoice in each moment, rather than wishing for what you don’t have.  Tomorrow’s blessings will bring with them tomorrow’s challenges and yesterdays gifts had as well a generous helping of yesterday’s woes.  As it is said, today is a gift.  That’s why we call it the present.

If we can simply give thanks for today’s garden, even if all we get is a bumper crop of tomatoes, that would be good.  Tomorrow’s garden maybe better, but then again, tomorrow’s garden will take an awful lot of weeding and care too.

Drought Times in Virginia

 

"It sure has been dry," my patient said to me.

"I know what you mean," I said in return.  "I mowed my lawn last weekend and it was the first time that it had been mowed since July."

"I heard the lake down on the edge of South Boston is really low," he said. "They had a bunch of fish die down there.  Buggs Island and Smith Mountain are down about ten feet from where they should be.  We're cutting our beans and the crop isn't worth harvesting.  We're just going to bale them for feed."

"That's terrible," I sympathized.  "I know my garden didn't do very well at all this year."

So go the conversations in a small town during a really dry spell.

"Send some rain, would You send some rain?

'Cause the earth is dry and needs to drink again

And the sun is high and we are sinking in the shade

Would You send a cloud, thunder long and loud?

Let the sky grow black and send some mercy down

Surely You can see that we are thirsty and afraid..."

So begins a song by Nicole Nordeman.  

It is a beautiful song, with lyrics that speak of trusting and thanking God, even when we don't receive all of the things we ask for.

The song comes to me now because Virginia is parched.  The summer has brought very little rain and south-central Virginia is over 10 inches behind in rainfall from where we normally would be for this time of year.

Most of the summer, when I walked in my yard, the grass crunched under my feet.  The garden didn't do well and about the only bright spots were my wife's flowers -- mainly because she continued to water them through the hot dry days.

Droughts were common in Bible times.  In the Middle Eastern heat, grain fields would wither and crops fail.  Widows and children would perish in the devastation that followed.

The prophet Amos spoke of a coming time when there would be a different kind of famine.  "Behold, the days come, saith the Lord God, that I will send a famine in the land, not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord: and they shall wander from sea to sea, and from the north even to the east, they shall run to and fro to seek the word of the Lord, and shall not find it." (Amos 8:11,12)

I wonder if we have reached that era.  There are plenty of people who claim to know what God desires and speak it, but often the words sound more like their own thoughts and beliefs.  The God who is revealed sounds more like a God of culture than the God who has shown Himself in Scripture.

We may be behind in rain but more important than water from the sky is for us to hear the voice of God, speaking to us of His desire to pursue Him above all else.  Only then will spiritual drought relinquish its hold on this nation and the world

Peace and Suffering

 

“King David sure had a hard life,” Otto said to me.  “I was just reading in I Samuel and Saul seemed as though he was out to get him.”

“It is kind of odd,” I agreed.  “If Saul had simply let David command his armies, he would have had all kinds of success and Saul’s end would have been different.”

“It makes you wonder why God lets things happen the way He does,” Otto said.  “Surely He could have brought David to the throne faster without all of the suffering on the way.”

“Maybe so,” I said.  “But maybe David was the king he was because of the suffering he had experienced before he reached the throne.”

“It hardly makes sense,” Otto continued. 

“I guess I go on the idea that King Saul had choices – God allowed him to choose well or poorly and unfortunately, the decisions he made affected not only himself, but also his family, David, and lots of other folks – after all, he was king.  God didn’t make David suffer, but He was able to use that suffering to build his character into a man after God’s own heart.”

It seems as though one of the biggest arguments that people make who don’t believe in God is the argument about suffering.  If there is a good God who rules over all and is in control of all, why should people suffer?

The answer, simply, is that this is a broken world.  It is a world in which bacteria cause disease and in which a coronavirus can cause millions of deaths.  It is a world in which dictators can wage genocide, even as they launch attacks on neighboring nations.  It is a world full to the brim with abuse and hunger and disease.

None of that is God’s plan nor does He instigate it.  He has promised His people that He will stand with them in these moments of suffering.  Before His own suffering on the cross, Jesus told His followers, “I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

It is such a blessing that we can have peace, even in a world that is full of trials and sorrows.  Perhaps the best example of this was the Apostle Paul who told the Philippians that if he was executed he would go to be with Jesus, whereas if he was freed, he could continue his ministry.  “I’m a winner either way!”  He told the church at Philippi – and he believed it.

I don’t have Paul’s faith, at least not all of the time, but I know that I can have peace because the Savior I serve has overcome the world.

Shut Up!?

 

"You know," I said to the denizens sitting around the supper table.  "I think I should write a book in which the main character has a crazy wife who he has shut up in a separate wing of his manor house.  I think that would be a grand idea for a story!"

"Too bad someone already came up with that idea, Dear," my wife said, sweetly.  

"Really?"  I asked.  "I'm always a bit too late on my wonderful ideas..."

It was at this point, our six-year-old entered the conversation.  "DAD!"  She said.  "You need to think twice before you speak once!  You said a Bad Word and that isn't good."

I attempted to review everything I had said.  I'm not prone to saying bad words or profanities -- not even wooden swearing -- and I certainly didn't think I had done so recently.

"Dad didn't say a bad word, Elise," my wife said.  

"He did too," Elise said firmly.

"What did he say?"  Elaine asked.

"He said, 'shut up' and that's a bad word!  He shouldn't say things like that."  Elise said.

"I don't think he said, 'shut up,'" Elaine said dubiously.

I began to laugh.  "I did say 'shut up.'  I said that the main character has a crazy wife shut up in his house."

At this, we attempted to explain that there are two ways to use the phrase, "Shut up!" one of which is bad and the other is not a problem.

I am glad that our children learn from an early age not to say bad words.  There are an awful lot of folks in this world who never learn this lesson and those around them are the worse for their interactions with them due to their inability to control their tongues.

"The tongue can bring death or life; those who love to talk will reap the consequences." (Proverbs 18:21) Sticks and stones may break bones, but words can wound much deeper, leaving scars on the soul.  If we only learned this simple lesson the world would be a better place.

The tongue really does have the power of life and death.  For those who have not learned to use it wisely, it would be better to shut it up in a separate wing of a manor house to cause the people around them to suffer.

Where There is Smoke

 

“It sure is hazy,” I said.  “If anything, it is worse than it is back home.”  The sun floated like an eerie orb, decorating a haze filled sky.

“I guess it’s the forest fires up in Canada,” Elaine said.  “I heard that some lawmakers from Michigan sent a letter to Canada telling them to stop the fires up there so that there was less smoke in Michigan.”

I laughed.  “That’s silly,” I said.  “I’m sure they are doing what they can, but a lot of Canadian forests aren’t really accessible by road and if you have to fly hundreds of miles to reach them, that will limit how much you can do to halt them as well.  It’s probably better just to pray for rain.”

We were driving and when we stopped at a gas station and got out, we discovered that the haze wasn’t simply in the atmosphere.  The air smelled strongly of smoke and would irritate your throat after just a little while of breathing it.

I have read many times the idea of Chaos theory and the difficulty of predicting the effect of tiny things on large systems.  A butterfly flaps its wings in North America and somehow this triggers a cascade of events that leads to a typhoon in the South Pacific.

Conceptually, this makes sense to me, but my feeling is that most of the time, the correlation is a lot clearer.  Forest fires in Canada lead to a smoky atmosphere in northern Virginia. 

The Apostle Paul wrote about the challenge of food offered to idols in I Corinthians 8.  In this passage, he spent very little time talking about whether or not it was sinful to eat this meat, focusing rather on the question of how eating such food would affect our brothers and sisters within the church.

The point clearly is that our actions affect others walk with God.  In an individualistic society it is easy to ignore this.  Many people believe that they should be able to do whatever they want and the people around them will just have to deal with it.

None of us lives in a vacuum.  We live in community.  We live with family.  The way we live our lives affects all of these people and – even if we don’t intend it to affect them. 

Even more challenging is the fact that our children will reap what we sow.  Whatever short comings we have in our lives will crop up in their lives to a higher degree.

Just as the smoke from forest fires in Canada doesn’t stay in Canada, but drifts as far south as Virginia, so too, our actions will touch and help (or harm) the lives of those around us.  Let them experience deeds of kindness and love that will encourage them to lives of faithfulness, not a mixture of anger and bitterness that block the sun and lead them to live with discouragement.

Sunrises and Early Mornings

 

 

The air was humid and a gentle breeze floated over the sand as we reached the beach.  The sky to the east was rose colored, touching the sea foam and dyeing it a light pink color.  The time was 5:50 am and almost no one was standing or walking on the beach.

Aly and I pulled our bikes across the sand and began to ride.  After about fifteen minutes of steady biking, we stopped and took pictures as the brightness increased and the sun began to edge its way above the eastern horizon.

There is something special about sunrises.  Sunsets are pretty too, but I prefer sunrises – even if it means missing some sleep in order to be there for the event.

I turned to Aly.  “Is it worth missing some sleep to watch the sun come up?”

“I like my sleep,” she answered after a moment’s thought, “But I wouldn’t miss it!”

I have talked to many people who say that conceptually they would love to watch sunrises.  They have heard about the amazing things that happen in the sky at daybreak.  They have read glowing accounts of how the birds sing and the world wakes up in these early hours.  There’s only one problem – the concept of sunrise versus the reality of the comfort of their early morning pillow seems like not much of a contest.

We know that Jesus woke up early in the morning.  “And in the morning, rising up a great while before day, he went out, and departed into a solitary place, and there prayed.” (Mark 1:35)

Of course, some of us are morning people and some are evening people and perhaps there is no changing that.  It is easy for someone, like myself, who wakes up at 5 am every morning to look down on those who are still sawing logs at 7 am, but I do think there is a blessing to rising early in the morning.

It isn’t just to see the sun climb above the level of the beach on Kiawah Island, but also in the quiet of the morning hours to pray and connect with our Heavenly Father.

The blessing is that even though we may struggle to get out of bed, He is the one who never does. He doesn’t sleep and is always ready to hear our prayers and cries for help – even on a sandy spot off the coast of South Carolina.

250 Years

 

“Can you believe it’s been 250 years since this country was founded?”  The lady sitting across from me asked me.  “I remember 1976 when it was the 200^th year anniversary and that seems like yesterday.  I have a 50 cent piece from that year and I want you to have it.”

“Thanks,” I said, taking the half dollar she offered me.  It had John F. Kennedy’s image engraved on one side along with the dates 1776-1976.  “250 years does seem like a long time, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” she paused thinking.  “I suppose I won’t be here for the next 50 year anniversary.  That’ll be in 2076 and I’ll have long been in the ground by that time.”

“I don’t suppose I’ll be around either,” I said.  “I don’t imagine we’ll be celebrating anniversaries like that in heaven – although maybe they have fireworks there.”

It has been 250 years since a bunch of men in Philadelphia signed a piece of paper that listed a bunch of complaints against King George III (never mind that it was really the British parliament that was the culprit).  Of course, the United States’ Constitution wasn’t ratified until over a decade later in 1789.

I know that many pin their hopes on the success of the United States, seeing in it the “Hope of the Free World.”  Scripture makes it clear that there is a different future for the world.

King Nebuchadnezzar had a dream and in his dream, he saw an amazing statue with parts of made of various metals.  As Daniel eventually explained to him, each part of the statue represented a different earthly empire.  Some of those empires would last for a few decades, others for hundreds of years, but all would eventually fall, superseded by a different people group.

Then, at the end of his dream, “Thou sawest till that a stone was cut out without hands, which smote the image upon his feet that were of iron and clay, and brake them to pieces.  Then was the iron, the clay, the brass, the silver, and the gold, broken to pieces together, and became like the chaff of the summer threshing floors; and the wind carried them away, that no place was found for them: and the stone that smote the image became a great mountain, and filled the whole earth.” (Daniel 2:34,35)

The stone is the kingdom of God, as represented by the church.  It is a kingdom that knows no boundaries and has spread throughout the world – regardless of governments and languages.  While kingdoms rise and fall, its goal remains constant, to bring the good news of Jesus’ victory over sin and death people who live in darkness.

Unlike earthly kingdoms, this one will know no end.  While no one has made pieces of money to celebrate its anniversaries or set off fireworks for it, it truly is the hope of the world – the only kingdom that brings peace and light into a world full to the brim with kingdoms of darkness.

Model A

 

“You know what car I’d really like?”  The older man sitting across from seemed fairly animated, as though this car of his dreams was something special.

“I don’t know,” I said.  Vehicle makes and models aren’t a strong point of mine.  I seem to have missed that day in Medical School and none of the medical conferences I have attended since have had a lecture on the subject.  “A Chevy?”  I guessed.  “Maybe an electric vehicle?”

“No!”  The other man grimaced as though he had stepped on a shard of glass.  “Definitely not!”

“A pickup truck?”

“I’ve already got one of those,” Art told me.  “Don’t really need another one.”

“I give up,” I said. 

“A Model A Ford!”  Art said, triumphantly.  “My Daddy owned one until the 1950s and he sold it to my uncle who ran it till near 1960, but that was a beautiful car.”

“I imagine they’re expensive,” I commented.

“Oh, no,” Art said.  “Ten or fifteen thousand for one in good condition.  But they hold so many memories for me – I suppose that’s why I find them so attractive.”

As I left the room, I was thinking about old things and new things.  I have reached the age where I am considered vintage, although not quite old enough to be an antique.

I have realized that just because something is new doesn’t mean that it is better.  There are plenty of items from the past that were simply better constructed and had more craftsmanship put into them than the assembly line, mass produced objects of today.

I’m not sure that I would want to drive a Model A car, but of course, I don’t have a lot of memories about that line of vehicles either.

“It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.” (Lamentations 3:22,23)

Jeremiah wrote the book of Lamentations in the midst of one of the darkest periods for the Jewish people.  Foreign invaders had defeated Israel’s army and eventually the city of Jerusalem and even God’s temple would be completely destroyed.

All of this begs the question, why do we need new mercies?  Weren’t yesterday’s mercies adequate? 

The answer is clearly that yesterday’s mercies and compassion were for yesterday’s woe.  Today’s challenges are new, even if they are similar to yesterday’s challenges, and they bring with them a need for new mercies.

God doesn’t listen to us for a couple of minutes after we begin to pray and then cut us off with a short, “You told me all this yesterday.  Just get over it!”  Instead, He gives us new mercies and sufficient grace for today and tomorrow, He will repeat the process – even if the problems and our response to them remain the same.

Even if a Model A is sufficient to get you to work and back, God doesn’t make us rely on yesterday’s mercies.  Instead, He renews them every morning, loving us, even when we find ourselves – and our troubles -- frustratingly the same.

A Folding Chair

 

A metal folding chair sat on the edge of the field, looking out across the tiny soybeans that were just poking their way up into the spring sunshine.  It was an odd place for a folding chair, but I had seen it for several mornings on my way to work and so it clearly served some purpose.

Typically, the reason that folding chairs (or any other type of chair for that matter) exist is to sit in and I supposed this one was no different.  I never did the reason behind this chair's location.  I saw it for another week or two and then, as suddenly as it first appeared, it was gone.

Maybe, it had gone to the beach -- or to a family reunion, but if so, I never found out.

It is possible that the farm who had planted the field of beans had sat out and watched his beans grow.  Finally, he gave up when they didn't grow fast enough.  Maybe, it served some more mysterious purpose.

I would like to think that the chair was simply assisting someone in enjoying the beauty of Creation.

We know that after each day of Creation, God looked on the things that He had made and pronounced them "good."  Then, after the sixth day, when He finished making humans and saw the completed product He called it, "Very good."

The word good can imply many things.  A lot of use the term to mean "good enough" or adequate.  If someone asks you how you are and you reply "good" (the grammarians among us say that you'd be better to answer "well"), you simply mean that things are OK and could be worse.

Obviously, that is not what God meant.

Good meant harmonious and interconnected.  More than that, good meant beautiful.  God could have created a drab flavorless Universe in which everything tasted like either chicken or week old bread.  Instead, He created worlds that are full of colors and scents and flavors.

It is all very good.  Perfect you might and beautiful enough that a farmer might sit on the edge of his field soaking it all in -- even while his beans don't grow.

The Picky Eater

 

“You are so picky when it comes to food,” I told my younger son.  “And a lot of your food likes and dislikes seem arbitrary.”

“What do you mean?”  Elliot asked, a little defensively.

“Well, you like cupcakes, but won’t eat muffins,” I said.

“That’s because cupcakes are better than muffins,” he said.

“It should depend on the ingredients,” I said.  “But once you make a statement like that, you can’t really argue about it.  Another example is that you won’t eat pancakes unless they have blueberries in them.  Plain pancakes need not apply.  But waffles are OK.”

“Pancakes without blueberries are just gross,” Elliot said.

“They’d probably taste better if you put some syrup on them,” I suggested.

“Why would I do that?  I don’t like syrup,” he countered.

Checkmated at last, I fell silent.  Apparently, my son’s dietary idiosyncrasies were completely reasonable.

Now, I am as aware as anyone that the old Roman proverb, “de gustibus non est disputandum” applies in these sorts of situations.  That is to say, there is no arguing over taste.  The fact that I don’t like the taste and texture if eggs is a fact of life and no amount of debate will convince me otherwise.

That said, I am convinced that many of my son’s dietary decisions have more to do with weird mental blocks he has with certain foods rather than with actual taste.

I am afraid that many times we are locked into poor paths, not because of actual restrictions, but because of things we just don’t want to do.  The sad thing is that we often miss out on much that is beautiful because we aren’t willing to make the effort to break out of the pattern set before us by our rigid thinking.

A life well lived is one in which people are willing to try things outside the box of their expectations.  For, the man who chooses not to eat muffins, simply because they aren’t cupcakes will miss out on an awful lot of breakfast goodness.

Friendship and Hamsters

 

“What are you researching, Victoria?”  I asked my daughter.

“Nothing, really,” she answered me, even as she pulled up a webpage entitled, “5 Tips on how to encourage your hamster to love and trust you.”  As she scrolled down, numerous linked articles showed up – most of which had to do with dogs – “What happens when your dog eats sweet potatoes” and “3 foods your dog needs to avoid!”

“Doesn’t Pip like you?”  I asked her.

“No – or rather, I’m not sure, but he bit me and even though it didn’t hurt, it makes me think he doesn’t like me,” Victoria answered in a rush.

“Maybe you need my new perfume that makes you smell like a hamster,” I said.  “It could be really helpful.”

“Dad!”  Victoria was not amused.

Aly started laughing.  “That would be funny to be sitting in church, and you start sniffing and ask yourself, ‘I wonder who it is that smells like a hamster?’”

It is an amusing thought, but Victoria takes her relationship with Pip pretty seriously – more seriously than her relationship with her siblings.  Getting him to like her and let her hold him is near the top of the list of things she wants to do this summer.

“A man who has friends must himself be friendly…” (Proverbs 18:24) The idea is that if we want people with whom we can share life and connect deeply, we must be willing to make some effort. 

I often hear people complain that some group isn’t friendly or doesn’t reach out the way they would like.  I am sure there is some truth to this, but there is also a sense in which we need to be willing to start a conversation, listen to someone else, and try to get to know them.

Even when it is outside our comfort zone, we can take a first step to friendship.

Just like it is not enough simply to smell like a hamster, so too, it is not enough to wish for connection with others.  As we make ourselves into good friends, we will find these connections grow and our circles expand as a result.

Extra Hot

 

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.  It was also eighty degrees, and someone was wearing his winter coat on the beach.  Something clearly wasn’t right.

“Why do you still have on your coat?”  I asked my younger son.

“I’m just trying to enjoy the beach,” he said.  “I’d enjoy it a lot more if random people stopped asking me about my coat.”

“It just seemed a little warm for a coat,” I said.  “We could have it surgically removed if that would be helpful.”

“It wouldn’t be helpful,” Elliot said.  “I’m not hot all and it’s a nice coat.”

“Maybe we need to get him checked to see if he has a thyroid condition,” Elaine put in.  “He does seem to be cold all of the time.”

I looked around but couldn’t spy a minute-clinic site to get blood drawn anywhere on this particular stretch of sand.  “Maybe we can wait till we get back home,” I said.  “Although I’m guessing his thyroid level is OK.  I think he decided to wear his coat and so taking it off would be admitting he made a mistake.  It’s better to bake than to admit error.”

It is hard to live life unable to make mistakes.  Of course, no one can actually live a completely mistake-free existence, but some people act as they do.  They seldom admit to any errors on their part – people around them are to blame for misunderstandings.  It might even turn out that though others thought that a mistake was made, there really wasn’t one.

“For a just man falleth seven times, and riseth up again…” (Proverbs 24:16a) When the righteous man makes mistakes, he gets up, dusts himself off, and confesses his failure, learning from them to do better. 

On the other hand, it is those who never make mistakes who repeat them most.

Murder He Wrote

 

“Dad,” Elliot asked me the other evening.  “If someone was shot through the neck, could you tell what gun had shot them just from the size of the bullet hole if you didn’t have the bullet?”

“Probably not,” I said.  “Although depending on how close to their neck the gun was held, there would certainly be blood and DNA on the gun.”

“Sure,” Elliot agreed, “but they didn’t know about DNA in the 1920s in England.”

“This is a weird conversation,” I said.  “Why are you wanting to know all this stuff?  Are you time traveling back to try to murder someone because murder is murder, even if a time machine is involved.”

“I’m writing a detective story,” Elliot said.  “It is set in the 1920s in England and it involves the detective’s cousin being shot in the neck and the detective coming to solve the crime.”

“That’s interesting,” I said.  “I thought you were supposed to write about things that you know about.  You don’t know anything about England, particularly not during the 1920s – nor much about murders, for that matter.  Why not set your story in a small Mennonite school in the 2020s?”

(Even as I said this, I realized it wasn’t totally true.  An awful lot of authors write stories about dragons and magic and not a single one of them that I have found owns a pet dragon or can do magic beyond using an iPhone.)

“That would be boring,” my younger son replied.  “Beyond which, I’ve read enough Agatha Christie stories that I think I know how to write this sort of thing.  My only problem is that my chapters are too short – most of them are only a page and a half long, but I figure after I do my research, I can expand them.”

“Well, I’ll enjoy telling people that I knew Elliot Waldron, back before he was a famous crime novelist,” I said.

“It’s amazing to me that I thought of this perfect crime.  I think it will surprise most people,” Elliot told me seriously.  “I figure I’ll have the book done by the end of the summer.”

“And further, by these, my son, be admonished: of making many books there is no end; and much study is a weariness of the flesh.” (Ecclesiastes 12:12)

If Solomon thought that there were a lot of books written in his day, I wonder what he would have thought about the 21^st century.  In doing a tiny bit of research, it seems as though (if you include self-published books) there are some 2 million new books written every year, just in the United States.

That means that there are more people writing books than are actually reading them!

I have read enough of these books to know that many of them have no particular reason for their existence.  I suppose it takes some level of self-importance to believe that you have an important story tell or light to shed on some subject that has been shrouded in mystery until the present.

I suppose more important than the writing of numerous books is the reading of THE book – God’s message to humans.  More than that, the goal in reading Scripture is not simply to read or even memorize the words, but to apply them to our lives.

An awful lot of people who claim to follow Christ stalk through their lives, hurting their friends and family with their words and actions. 

Too many of us believe that we have much to say and some of us even sit down and cobble together books or blogs as a result.  But only one book truly sheds light on the path we are to take.  All other books fall short – even a crime novel written by a 15-year-old about someone shot through the neck in England in the 1920s.